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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/20754-8.txt b/20754-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f76e68 --- /dev/null +++ b/20754-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6107 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blunders of a Bashful Man, by +Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Blunders of a Bashful Man + +Author: Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +Release Date: March 6, 2007 [EBook #20754] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + +The author of this book is Metta Victoria Fuller Victor writing under the +Pen name of Walter T. Gray. But the Author's name is not given in the +original text. + + The Table of Contents is not part of the original text. + + + + THE BLUNDERS + + OF A + + BASHFUL MAN. + + + _By the Author of_ + + "A BAD BOY'S DIARY" + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1881, BY STREET & SMITH. + + + + + NEW YORK: + + J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY. + + 57 ROSE STREET. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I. HE ATTENDS A PICNIC. + +II. HE MAKES AN EVENING CALL. + +III. GOES TO A TEA-PARTY. + +IV. HE DOES HIS DUTY AS A CITIZEN. + +V. HE COMMITS SUICIDE. + +VI. HE IS DOOMED FOR WORSE ACCIDENTS. + +VII. I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE. + +VIII. HE ENACTS THE PART OF GROOMSMAN. + +IX. MEETS A PAIR OF BLUE EYES. + +X. HE CATCHES A TROUT AND PRESENTS IT TO A LADY. + +XI. HE GOES TO THE CIRCUS. + +XII. A LEAP FOR LIFE. + +XIII. ONE OF THE FAIR SEX COMES TO HIS RESCUE. + +XIV. HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT. + +XV. HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW. + +XVI. AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE. + +XVII. HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL. + +XVIII. HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR. + +XIX. DRIVEN FROM HIS LAST DEFENCE. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE + +BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN. + +CHAPTER I. + +HE ATTENDS A PICNIC. + + +I have been, am now, and shall always be, a bashful man. I have been +told that I am the only bashful man in the world. How that is I can +not say, but should not be sorry to believe that it is so, for I am of +too generous a nature to desire any other mortal to suffer the mishaps +which have come to me from this distressing complaint. A person can +have smallpox, scarlet fever, and measles but once each. He can even +become so inoculated with the poison of bees and mosquitoes as to make +their stings harmless; and he can gradually accustom himself to the +use of arsenic until he can take 444 grains safely; but for +bashfulness--like mine--there is no first and only attack, no becoming +hardened to the thousand petty stings, no saturation of one's being +with the poison until it loses its power. + +I am a quiet, nice-enough, inoffensive young gentleman, now rapidly +approaching my twenty-sixth year. It is unnecessary to state that I am +unmarried. I should have been wedded a great many times, had not some +fresh attack of my malady invariably, and in some new shape, attacked +me in season to prevent the "consummation devoutly to be wished." When +I look back over twenty years of suffering through which I have +literally stumbled my way--over the long series of embarrassments and +mortifications which lie behind me--I wonder, with a mild and patient +wonder, why the Old Nick I did not commit suicide ages ago, and thus +end the eventful history with a blank page in the middle of the book. +I dare say the very bashfulness which has been my bane has prevented +me; the idea of being cut down from a rafter, with a black-and-blue +face, and drawn out of the water with a swollen one, has put me so out +of countenance that I had not the courage to brave a coroner's jury +under the circumstances. + +Life to me has been a scramble through briers. I do not recall one +single day wholly free from the scratches inflicted on a cruel +sensitiveness. I will not mention those far-away agonies of boyhood, +when the teacher punished me by making me sit with the girls, but will +hasten on to a point that stands out vividly against a dark background +of accidents. I was nineteen. My sentiments toward that part of +creation known as "young ladies" were, at that time, of a mingled and +contradictory nature. I adored them as angels; I dreaded them as if +they were mad dogs, and were going to bite me. + +My parents were respected residents of a small village in the western +part of the State of New York. I had been away at a boys' academy for +three years, and returned about the first of June to my parents and to +Babbletown to find that I was considered a young man, and expected to +take my part in the business and pleasures of life as such. My father +dismissed his clerk and put me in his place behind the counter of our +store. + +Within three days every girl in that village had been to that store +after something or another--pins, needles, a yard of tape, to look at +gloves, to _try on shoes_, or examine gingham and calico, until I was +happy, because out of sight, behind a pile high enough to hide my +flushed countenance. I shall never forget that week. I ran the +gauntlet from morning till night. I believe those heartless wretches +told each other the mistakes I made, for they kept coming and coming, +looking as sweet as honey and as sly as foxes. Father said I'd break +him if I didn't stop making blunders in giving change--he wasn't in +the prize-candy business, and couldn't afford to have me give +twenty-five sheets of note paper, a box of pens, six corset laces, a +bunch of whalebones, and two dollars and fifty cents change for a +two-dollar bill. + +He explained to me that the safety-pins which I had offered Emma Jones +for crochet-needles were _not_ crochet-needles; nor the red wafers I +had shown Mary Smith for gum-drops, gum-drops--that gingham was not +three dollars per yard, nor pale-blue silk twelve-and-a-half cents, +even to Squire Marigold's daughter. He said I must be more careful. + +"I don't think the mercantile business is my _forte_, father," said I. + +"Your fort!" replied the old gentleman; "fiddlesticks! We have nothing +to do with military matters. But if you think you have a special call +to anything, John, speak out. Would you like to study for the +ministry, my son?" + +"Oh, no, indeed! I don't know exactly what I would like, unless it +were to be a Juan Fernandez, or a--a light-house keeper." + +Then father said I was a disgrace to him, and I knew I was. + +On the fourth day some young fellows came to see me, and told me there +was to be a picnic on Saturday, and I must get father's horse and +buggy and take one of the girls. In vain I pleaded that I did not know +any of them well enough. They laughed at me, and said that Belle +Marigold had consented to go with me; that I knew her--she had been in +the store and bought some blue silk for twelve-and-a-half cents a +yard; and they rather thought she fancied me, she seemed so ready to +accept my escort; should they tell her I would call for her at ten +o'clock, sharp, on Saturday morning? + +There was no refusing under the circumstances, and I said "yes" with +the same gaiety with which I would have signed my own death-warrant. +Yet I wanted to go to the picnic, dreadfully; and of all the young +ladies in Babbletown I preferred Belle Marigold. She was the +handsomest and most stylish girl in the county. Her eyes were large, +black, and mischievous; her mouth like a rose; she dressed prettily, +and had an elegant little way of tossing back her dark ringlets that +was fascinating even at first sight. I was told my doom on Thursday +afternoon, and do not think I slept any that or Friday night--am +positive I did not Saturday night. I wanted to go and I wanted to take +that particular girl, yet I was in a cold sweat at the idea. I would +have given five dollars to be let off, and I wouldn't have taken +fifteen for my chance to go. I asked father if I could have the horse +and buggy, and if he would tend store. I hoped he would say No; but +when he said Yes, I was delighted. + +"I'll take the opportunity when you are at the picnic to get the +accounts out of the quirks you've got 'em into," said he. + +Well, Saturday came. As I opened my eyes my heart jumped into my +throat. "I've got to go through with it now if it kills me," I +thought. + +Mother asked me why I ate no breakfast. + +"Saving my appetite for the picnic," I responded, cheerfully; which +was one of the white lies my miserable bashfulness made me tell every +day of my life--I knew that I should go dinner-less at the picnic +unless I could get behind a tree with my plate of goodies. + +I never to this day can abide to eat before strangers; things _always_ +go by my windpipe instead of my ęsophagus, and I'm tired to death of +scalding my legs with hot tea, to say nothing of adding to one's +embarrassment to have people asking if one has burned oneself, and +feeling that one has broken a cup out of a lady's best china tea-set. +But about tea and tea-parties I shall have more to say hereafter. I +must hurry on to my first picnic, where I made my first public +appearance as the Bashful Man. + +I made a neat toilet--a fresh, light summer suit that I flattered +myself beat any other set of clothes in Babbletown--ordered Joe, our +chore-boy, to bring the buggy around in good order, with everything +shining; and when he had done so, had the horse tied in front of the +store. + +"Come, my boy," said father, after a while, "it's ten minutes to ten. +Never keep the ladies waiting." + +"Yes, sir; as soon as I've put these raisins away." + +"Five minutes to ten, John. Don't forget the lemons." + +"No, sir." But I _did_ forget them in my trepidation, and a man had +to be sent back for them afterward. + +It was just ten when I stepped into the buggy with an attempt to +appear in high spirits. As I drove slowly toward Squire Marigold's +large mansion on Main Street, I met dozens of gay young folks on the +way out of town, some of them calling out that I would be late, and to +try and catch up with them after I got my girl. + +As I came in sight of the house my courage failed. I turned off on a +by-street, drove around nearly half a mile, and finally approached the +object of my dread from another direction. I do believe I should have +passed the house after I got to it had I not seen a vision of pink +ribbons, white dress, and black eyes at the window, and realized that +I was observed. So I touched the horse with the whip, drove up with a +flourish, and before I had fairly pulled up at the block, Belle was at +the door, with a servant behind her carrying a hamper. + +"You are late, Mr. Flutter," she called out, half gayly, half crossly. + +I arose from the seat, flung down the reins, and leaped out, like a +flying-fish out of the water, to hand the beautiful apparition in. In +my nervousness I did not observe how I placed the lines, my foot +became entangled in them, I was brought up in the most unexpected +manner, landing on the pavement on my new hat instead of the soles of +my boots. + +This was not only embarrassing, but positively painful. There was a +bump on my forehead, the rim of my hat was crushed, my new suit was +soiled, my knee ached like Jericho, and there was a rent in my +pantaloons right opposite where my knee hurt. + +Belle tittered, the colored girl stuffed her apron in her mouth, and +said "hi! hi!" behind it. I would have given all I had in life to give +if I could have started on an exploring expedition for China just +then, but I couldn't. The pavement was not constructed with reference +to swallowing up bashful young men who wanted to be swallowed. + +"I hope you are not hurt, Mr. Flutter, te-he?" + +"Oh, not at all, not in the least; it never hurts me to fall. It was +those constricted reins, they caught my foot. Does the basket go with +us? I mean the servant. No, I don't, I mean the basket--does she go +with us?" + +"The hamper does, Mr. Flutter, or we should be minus sandwiches. Jane, +put the hamper in." + +Miss Marigold was in the buggy before I had straightened my hat-rim. + +"I hope your horse is a fast one; we shall be late," she remarked, as +I took my place by her side. "Here is a pin, Mr. Flutter; you can pin +up that tear." + +I was glad she asked me to let the horse go at full speed; it was the +most soothing thing which could happen at that time. As he flew along +I could affect to be busy with the cares of driving, and so escape +the trials of conversation. I spoke to my lovely companion only three +times in the eight miles between her house and the grove. The first +time I remarked, "We are going to have a warm day"; the second, "I +think the day will be quite warm"; the third time I launched out +boldly: "Don't you think, Miss Marigold, we shall have it rather warm +about noon?" + +"You seem to feel the heat more than I do," she answered, demurely, +which was true, for she looked as cool as a cucumber and as +comfortable as a mouse in a cheese, while I was mopping my face every +other minute with my handkerchief. + +When we reached the picnic grounds she offered to hold the reins while +I got out. As I lifted her down, the whole company, who had been +watching for our arrival, burst out laughing. Miss Belle looked at me +and burst out laughing, too. + +"What's the matter?" I stammered. + +"Oh, nothing," said she; "only you dusted your clothes with your +handkerchief after you fell, and now you've wiped your face with it, +and it's all streaked up as if you'd been making mud pies, and your +hat's a little out of shape, and--" + +"You look as if you'd been on a bender," added the fellow who had +induced me to come to the confounded affair. + +"Well, I guess I can wash my face," I retorted, a little mad. "I've +met with an accident, that's all. Just wait until I've tied my horse." + +There was a pond close by--part of the programme of the picnic was to +go out rowing on the pond--and as soon as I had fastened my horse, I +went down to the bank and stooped over to wash my face, and the bank +gave way and I pitched headlong into twelve feet of water. + +I was not scared, for I could swim, but I was puzzled as to how to +enjoy a picnic in my wet clothes. I wanted to go home, but the boys +said: + +"No--I must walk about briskly and let my things dry on me--the day +was so warm I wouldn't take cold." + +So I walked about briskly, all by myself, for about two hours, while +the rest of them were having a good time. Then some one asked where +the lemons were that I was to bring, and I had to confess that they +were at home in the store, and dinner was kept waiting another two +hours while a man took my horse and went for those lemons. I walked +about all the time he was gone, and was dry enough by the time the +lemonade was made to wish I had some. But the water had shrunk my +clothes so that the legs of my pantaloons and the arms of my coat were +about six inches too short, while my boots, which had been rather +tight in the first place, made my feet feel as if they were in a +red-hot iron vise. I couldn't face all those giggling girls, and I +got down behind a tree and the tears came in my eyes, I felt so +miserable. + +Belle was a tease, but she wasn't heartless; she got two plates, +heaped with nice things, and two tumblers of lemonade, and sat down by +my side coaxing me to eat, and telling me how sorry she was that I had +had my pleasure destroyed by an accident. + +I had a piece of spring chicken, but being too bashful to masticate it +properly, I attempted to swallow it whole. It stuck!--she had to pat +me on the back--I became purple and kicked about wildly, ruining her +new sash by upsetting both plates. She became seriously alarmed, and +ran for aid; two of the fellows stood me on my head and pounded the +soles of my feet, by which wise course the morsel was dislodged, and +"Richard was himself again." + +After the excitement had partially subsided, the punster of the +village--there is always one punster in every community--broke out +with: + +"Oh, swallow, swallow, flying South, fly to her and tell her what I +tell to thee." + +The girls laughed; I looked and saw Belle trying to wipe the ice-cream +from her sash. + +"Never mind the sash, Miss Marigold," I said, in desperation, "I'll +send you another to-morrow. But if you'll excuse me, I'll go home now. +I'm not well, and mother'll be alarmed about me--I ought not to have +left father alone to tend store, and I feel that I've taken cold. I +presume some of these folks will have a spare seat, and my boots have +shrunk, and I don't care for picnics as a general thing, anyway. My +clothes are shrinking all the time, and I think we're going to have a +thunder-shower, and I guess I'll go."--and I went. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +HE MAKES AN EVENING CALL. + + +It's very provoking to a bashful man to have the family pew only one +remove from the pulpit. I didn't feel like going to church the day +after the picnic, but father wouldn't let me off. I caught my foot in +a hole in the carpet walking up the aisle, which drew particular +attention to me; and dropped by hymn-book twice, to add to the +interest I had already excited in the congregation. My fingers are +always all thumbs when I have to find the hymn. + +"I do believe you did take cold yesterday," said mother, when we came +out. "You must have a fever, for your face is as red as fire." + +Very consoling when a young man wants to look real sweet. But that's +my luck. I'll be as pale as a poet when I leave my looking-glass, but +before I enter a ball-room or a dining-room I'll be as red as an +alderman. I have often wished that I could be permanently whitewashed, +like a kitchen wall or a politician's record. I think, perhaps, if I +were whitewashed for a month or two I might cure myself of my habit of +blushing when I enter a room. I bought a box of "Meen Fun" once, and +tried to powder; but I guess I didn't understand the art as well as +the women do; it was mean fun in good earnest, for the girl I was +going to take to singing-school wanted to know if I'd been helping my +ma make biscuits for supper; and then she took her handkerchief and +brushed my face, which wasn't so bad as it might have been, for her +handkerchief had patchouly on it and was as soft as silk. But that +wasn't Belle Marigold, and so it didn't matter. + +To return to church. I went again in the evening, and felt more at +home, for the kerosene was not very bright. I got along without any +accident. After meeting was out, father stopped to speak to the +minister. As I stood in the entry, waiting for him, Belle came out, +and asked me how I felt after the picnic. I saw she was alone, and so +I hemmed, and said: "Have you any one to see you home?" + +She said, "No; but I'm not afraid--it's not far," and stopped and +waited for me to offer her my arm, looking up at me with those +bewitching eyes. + +"Oh," said I, dying to wait upon her, but not daring to crook my elbow +before the crowd, "I'm glad of that; but if you are the least bit +timid, Miss Marigold, father and I will walk home with you." + +Then I heard a suppressed laugh behind me, and, turning, saw that +detestable Fred Hencoop, who never knew what it was to feel modest +since the day his nurse tied his first bib on him. + +"Miss Marigold," said he, looking as innocent as a lamb, "if you do me +the honor to accept my arm, I'll try and take you home without calling +on my pa to assist me in the arduous duty." And she went with him. + +I was very low-spirited on the way home. + +"As sure as I live I'll go and call on her to-morrow evening, and show +her I'm not the fool she thinks I am," I said, between my gritted +teeth. "I'll take her a new sash to replace the one I spoiled at the +picnic, and we'll see who's the best fellow, Hencoop or I." + +The next afternoon I measured off four yards of the sweetest +sash-ribbon ever seen in Babbletown, and charged myself with seven +dollars--half my month's salary, as agreed upon between father and +me--and rolled up the ribbon in white tissue paper, preparatory to the +event of the evening. + +"Where are you going?" father asked, as I edged out of the store just +after dark. + +"Oh, up the street a piece." + +"Well, here's a pair o' stockings to be left at the Widow Jones'. Just +call as you go by and leave 'em, will you?" + +I stuck the little bundle he gave me in my coat-tail pocket; but by +the time I passed the Widow Jones' house I was so taken up with the +business on hand that I forgot all about the stockings. + +I could see Miss Marigold sitting at the piano and hear her singing as +I passed the window. It was awful nice, and, to prolong the pleasure, +I stayed outside about half an hour, then a summer shower came up, and +I made up my mind and rang the bell. Jane came to the door. + +"Is the squire at home?" says I. + +"No, sir, he's down to the hotel; but Miss Marigold, she's to hum," +said the black girl, grinning. "Won't you step in? Miss will be +dreffle sorry her pa is out." + +She took my hat and opened the parlor door; there was a general +dazzle, and I bowed to somebody and sat down somewhere, and in about +two minutes the mist cleared away, and I saw Belle Marigold, with a +rose in her hair, sitting not three feet away, and smiling at me as if +coaxing me to say something. + +"Quite a shower?" I remarked. + +"Indeed--is it raining?" said she. + +"Yes, indeed," said I; "it came up very sudden." + +"I hope you didn't get wet?" said she, with a sly look. + +"Not this time," said I, trying to laugh. + +"Does it lighten?" said she. + +"A few," said I. + +Miss Marigold coughed and looked out of the window. There was a pause +in our brilliant conversation. + +"I think we shall have a rainy night," I resumed. + +"I'm _so_ afraid of thunder," said she. "I shall not sleep a bit if it +thunders. I shall sit up until the rain is over. I never like to be +alone in a storm. I always want some one _close by me_," she said, +with a little shiver. + +[Illustration: "I'M SO FRIGHTENED, MR. FLUTTER," SAID SHE; "I FEEL, IN +MOMENTS LIKE THESE, HOW SWEET IT WOULD BE TO HAVE SOME ONE TO CLING +TO."] + +I hitched my chair about a foot nearer hers. It thundered pretty loud, +and she gave a little squeal, and brought her chair alongside mine. + +"I'm so frightened, Mr. Flutter," said she: "I feel, in moments like +these, how sweet it would be to have someone to cling to." + +And she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. + +"Dear Belle," said I, "would you--would you--could you--now--" + +"What?" whispered she, very softly. + +"If I thought," I stammered, "that you could--that you would--that it +was handy to give me a drink of water." She sprang up as if shot, and +rang a little hand-bell. + +"Jane, a glass of water for this gentleman--_ice_-water," in a very +chilly tone, and she sat down over by the piano. + +Bashful fool and idiot that I was. I had lost another opportunity. + +After I had swallowed the water Jane had left the room. I bethought me +of the handsome present which I had in my pocket, and, hoping to +regain her favor by that, I drew out the little package and tossed it +carelessly in her lap. + +"Belle," said I, "I have not forgotten that I spilled lemonade on your +sash; I hope you will not refuse to allow me to make such amends as +are in my power. If the color does not suit you, I will exchange it +for any you may select." + +She began to smile again, coquettishly untying the string and +unwrapping the paper. Instead of the lovely rose-colored ribbon, out +rolled a long pair of coarse blue cotton stockings. + +Miss Marigold screamed louder than she had at the thunder. + +"It's all a mistake!" I cried; "a ridiculous mistake! I beg your +pardon ten thousand times! They are for the Widow Jones. _Here_ is +what I intended for _you_, dear, dear Belle," and I thrust another +package into heir hands. + +"Fine-cut!" said she, examining the wrapper by the light of the lamp +on the piano. "Do you think I chew, Mr. Flutter?--or _dip_? Do you +intend to willfully insult me? Leave the hou----" + +"Oh, I beg of you, listen! Here it is at last!" I exclaimed in +desperation, drawing out the right package at last, and myself +displaying to her dazzled view the four yards of glittering ribbon. +"There's not another in Babbletown so handsome. Wear it for _my sake_, +Belle!" + +"I will," she sighed, after she had secretly rubbed it, and held it to +the light to make sure of its quality. "I will, John, for your sake." + +We were friends again; she was very sweet, and played something on the +piano, and an hour slipped away as if I were in Paradise. I rose to +go, the rain being over. + +"But about that paper of fine-cut!" she said, archly, as she went into +the hall with me to get my hat; "do you chew, John?" + +"No, Belle, that tobacco was for old man Perkins, as sure as I stand +here. If you don't believe me, smell my breath," said I, and I tried +to get my arm about her waist. + +It was kind of dark in the hall; she did not resist so very much; my +lips were only about two inches from hers--for I wanted her to be sure +about my breath--when a voice that almost made me faint away, put a +conundrum to me: + +"If you'd a kissed my girl, young man, why would it have been like a +Centennial fire-arm?" + +"Because it hasn't gone off yet!" I gasped, reaching for my hat. + +"Wrong," said he grimly. "Because it would have been a blunder-buss." + +I reckon the squire was right. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +GOES TO A TEA-PARTY. + + +The Widow Jones got her stockings the next day. As I left them at the +door she stuck her head out of an upper window and said to me that +"the sewing society met at her house on Thursday afternoon, and the +men-folks was coming to tea and to spend the evening, and I must be +_sure_ an' come, or the girls would be _so_ disappointed," and she +urged and urged until I had to promise her I would attend her +sociable. + +Drat all tea-parties! say I. I was never comfortable at one in my +life. If you'd give me my choice between going to a tea-party and +picking potato-bugs off the vines all alone on a hot summer day, I +shouldn't hesitate a moment between the two. I should choose the bugs; +and I can't say I fancy potato-bugs, either. + +On Wednesday I nearly killed an old lady, putting up tartar-emetic for +cream-tartar. If she'd eaten another biscuit made with it she'd have +died and I'd have been responsible--and father was really vexed and +said I might be a light-house keeper as quick as I pleased; but by +that time I felt as if I couldn't keep a light-house without Belle +Marigold to help me, and so I promised to be more careful, and kept +on clerking. + +The thermometer stood at eighty degrees in the shade when I left the +store at five o'clock Thursday afternoon to go to that infallible +tea-party. I was glad the day was warm, for I wanted to wear my white +linen suit, with a blue cravat and Panama hat. I felt independent even +of Fred Hencoop, as I walked along the street under the shade of the +elms; but, the minute I was inside Widow Jones' gate and walking up to +the door, the thermometer went up to somewhere near 200 degrees. There +were something like a dozen heads at each of the parlor windows, and +all women's heads at that. Six or eight more were peeping out of the +sitting-room, where they were laying the table for tea. Babbletown +always did seem to me to have more than its fair share of female +population. I think I would like to live in one of those mining towns +out in Colorado, where women are as scarce as hairs on the inside of a +man's hand. Somebody coughed as I was going up the walk. Did you ever +have a girl cough at you?--one of those mean, teasing, expressive +little coughs? + +I had practiced--at home in my own room--taking off my Panama with a +graceful, sweeping bow, and saying in calm, well-bred tones: +"Good-evening, Mrs. Jones. Good-evening, ladies. I trust you have had +a pleasant as well as profitable afternoon." + +I had _practiced_ that in the privacy of my chamber. What I really did +get off was something like this: + +"Good Jones, Mrs. Evening. I should say, good-evening, widows--ladies, +I beg your pardon," by which time I was mopping my forehead with my +handkerchief, and could just ask, as I sank into the first chair I +saw, "Is your mother well, Mrs. Jones?" which was highly opportune, +since said mother had been years dead before I was born. As I sat +down, a pang sharper than some of those endured by the Spartans ran +through my right leg. I was instantly aware that I had plumped down on +a needle, as well as a piece of fancy-work, but I had not the courage +to rise and extract the excruciating thing. + +I turned pale with pain, but by keeping absolutely still I found that +I could endure it, and so I sat motionless, like a wooden man, with a +frozen smile on my features. + +Belle was out in the other room helping set the table, for which +mitigating circumstances I was sufficiently thankful. + +Fred Hencoop was on the other side of the room holding a skein of silk +for Sallie Brown. He looked across at me, smiling with a malice which +made me hate him. + +Out of that hate was born a stern resolve--I would conquer my +diffidence; I would prove to Fred Hencoop, and any other fellow like +him, that I was as good as he was, and could at least equal him in +the attractions of my sex. + +There was a pretty girl sitting quite near me. I had been introduced +to her at the picnic. It seemed to me that she was eyeing me +curiously, but I was mad enough at Fred to show him that I could be as +cool as anybody, after I got used to it. I hemmed, wiped the +perspiration from my face--caused now more by the needle than by the +heat--and remarked, sitting stiff as a ramrod and smiling like an +angel: + +"June is my favorite month, Miss Smith--is it yours? When I think of +June I always think of strawberries and cream and ro-oh-oh-ses!" + +It was the needle. I had forgotten in the excitement of the subject +and had moved. + +"_Is_ anything the matter?" Miss Smith tenderly inquired. + +"Nothing in the world, Miss Smith. I had a stitch in my side, but it +is over now." + +"Stitches are very painful," she observed, sympathizingly. "I don't +like to trouble you, Mr. Flutter, but I think, I believe, I guess you +are sitting on my work. If you will rise, I will try and finish it +before tea." + +No help for it, and I arose, at the same moment dexterously slipping +my hand behind me and withdrawing the thorn in the flesh. + +"Oh, dear, where is my needle?" said the young lady, anxiously +scrutinizing the crushed worsted-work. + +I gave it to her with a blush. She burst out laughing. + +"I don't wonder you had a stitch in your side," she remarked, shyly. + +"Hem!" observed Fred very loud, "do you feel sew-sew, John?" + +Just then Belle entered the parlor, looking as sweet as a pink, and +wearing the sash I had given her. She bowed to me very coquettishly +and announced tea. + +"Too bad!" continued Fred; "you have broken the thread of Mr. +Flutter's discourse with Miss Smith. But I do not wish to inflict +_needle_-less pain, so I will not betray him." + +"I hope Mr. Flutter is not in trouble again," said Belle quickly. + +"Oh, no. Fred is only trying to say something _sharp_," said I. + +"Come with me; I will take care of you, Mr. Flutter," said Belle, +taking my arm and marching me out into the sitting-room, where a long +table was heaped full of inviting eatables. She sat me down by her +side, and I felt comparatively safe. But Fred and Miss Smith were just +opposite and they disconcerted me. + +"Mr. Flutter," said the hostess when it came my turn, "will you have +tea or coffee?" + +"Yes'm," said I. + +"Tea or coffee?" + +"If you please," said I. + +"_Which_?" whispered Belle. + +"Oh, excuse me; coffee, ma'am." + +"Cream and sugar, Mr. Flutter?" + +"I'm not particular which, Mrs. Jones." + +"Do you take _both_?" she persisted, with everybody at the table +looking my way. + +"No, ma'am, only coffee," said I, my face the color of the +beet-pickles. + +She finally passed me a cup, and, in my embarrassment, I immediately +took a swallow and burnt my mouth. + +"Have you lost any friends lately?" asked that wretched Fred, seeing +the tears in my eyes. + +I enjoyed that tea-party as geese enjoy _pate de fois gras_. It was a +prolonged torment under the guise of pleasure. I refused everything I +wanted, and took everything I didn't want. I got a back of the cold +chicken; there was nothing of it but bone. I thought I must appear to +be eating it, and it slipped out from under my fork and flew into the +dish of preserved cherries. + +We had strawberries. I am very partial to strawberries and cream. I +got a saucer of the berries, and was looking about for the cream when +Miss Smith's mother, at my right hand, said: + +"Mr. Flutter, will you have some _whip_ with your strawberries?" + +Whip with my berries! I thought she was making fun of me, and +stammered: + +"No, I thank you," and so I lost the delicious frothed cream that I +coveted. + +The agony of the thing was drawing to a close. I was longing for the +time when I could go home and get some cold potatoes out of mother's +cupboard. I hadn't eaten worth a cent. + +Pretty soon we all moved back our chairs and rose. I offered my arm to +Belle, as I supposed. Between the sitting-room and parlor there was a +little dark hall, and when we got in there I summoned up courage, +passed my arm around my fair partner, and gave her a hug. + +"You ain't so bashful as you look," said she, and then we stepped into +the parlor, and I found I'd been squeezing Widow Jones' waist. + +She gave me a look full of languishing sweetness that scared me nearly +to death. I thought of Mr. Pickwick and Mrs. Bardell. Visions of suits +for breaches of promise arose before my horrified vision. I glanced +wildly around in search of Belle; she was hanging on a young lawyer's +arm, and not looking at me. + +"La, now, you needn't color up so," said the widow, coquettishly, "I +know what young men are." + +She said it aloud, on purpose for Belle to hear. I felt like killing +her. I might have done it, but one thought restrained me--I should be +hung for murder, and I was too bashful to submit to so public an +ordeal. + +I hurried across the room to get rid of her. There was a young fellow +standing there who looked about as out-of-place as I felt. I thought +I would speak to him. + +"Come," said I, "let us take a little promenade outside--the women are +too much for me." + +He made no answer. I heard giggling and tittering breaking out all +around the room, like rash on a baby with the measles. + +"Come on," said I; "like as not they're laughing at us." + +"Look-a-here, you shouldn't speak to a fellow till you've been +introduced," said that wicked Fred behind me. "Mr. Flutter, allow me +to make you acquainted with Mr. Flutter. He's anxious to take a little +walk with you." + +It was so; I had been talking to myself in a four-foot looking-glass. + +I did not feel like staying for the ice-cream and kissing-plays, but +had a sly hunt for my hat, and took leave of the tea-party about the +eighth of a second afterward. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HE DOES HIS DUTY AS A CITIZEN. + + +Babbletown began to be very lively as soon as the weather got cool, +the fall after I came home. We had a singing-school once a week, a +debating society that met every Wednesday evening, and then we had +sociables, and just before Christmas a fair. All the other young men +had a good time. Every day, when some of them dropped in the store for +a chat and a handful of raisins, they would aggravate me by asking: + +"_Aren't_ we having a jolly winter of it, John?" + +_I_ never had a good time. _I_ never enjoyed myself like other folks. +I spent enough money and made enough good resolutions, but something +always occurred to destroy my anticipated pleasure. I can't hear a +lyceum or debating society mentioned to this day, without feeling +"cold-chills" run down my spine. + +I took part in the exercises the evening ours was opened. I had been +requested by the committee to furnish the poem for the occasion. As I +was just from a first-class academy, where I had read the valedictory, +it was taken for granted that I was the most likely one to "fill the +bill." + +I accepted the proposition. To be bashful is a far different thing +from being modest. I wrote the poem. I sat up nights to do it. The way +candles were consumed caused father to wonder where his best box of +spermacetis had gone to. I knew I could do the poetry, and I firmly +resolved that I would read it through, from beginning to end, in a +clear, well-modulated voice, that could be heard by all, including the +minister and Belle Marigold. I would not blush, or stammer, or get a +frog in my throat. I swore solemnly to myself that I would not. _Some +folks_ should see that my bashfulness was wearing off faster than the +gold from an oroide watch. Oh, I would show 'em! Some things could be +done as well as others. I would no longer be the laughing-stock of +Babbletown. My past record should be wiped out! I would write my poem, +and I would _read it_--read it calmly and impressively, so as to do +full justice to it. + +I got the poem ready. I committed it to memory, so that if the lights +were dim, or I lost my place, I should not be at the mercy of the +manuscript. The night came. I entered the hall with Belle on my arm, +early, so as to secure her a front seat. + +"Keep cool, John," were her whispered words, as I left her to take my +place on the platform. + +"Oh, I shall be cool enough. I know every line by heart; have said it +to myself one hundred and nineteen times without missing a word." + +I'm not going to bore you with the poem here; but will give the first +four lines as they were _written_ and as I _spoke_ them: + + "Hail! Babbletown, fair village of the plain! + Hail! friends and fellow-citizens. In vain + I strive to sing the glories of this place, + Whose history back to early times I trace." + +The room was crowded, the president of the society made a few opening +remarks, which closed by presenting Mr. Flutter, the poet of the +occasion. I was quite easy and at home until I arose and bowed as he +spoke my name. Then something happened to my senses, I don't know +what; I only knew I lost every one of them for about two minutes. I +was blind, deaf, dumb, tasteless, senseless, and feelingless. Then I +came to a little, rallied, and perceived that some of the boy were +beginning to pound the floor with their heels. I made a feint of +holding my roll of verses nearer the lamp at my right hand, summoned +traitor memory to return, and began: + +"Hail!" + +Was that my voice? I did not recognize it. It was more as if a mouse +in the gallery had squeaked. It would never do. I cleared any +throat--which was to have been free from frogs--and a strange, hoarse +voice, no more like mine than a crow is like a nightingale, came out +with a jerk, about six feet away, and remarked, as if surprised: + +"Hail!" + +With a desperate effort, I resolved that this night or never I was to +achieve greatness. I cleared the way again and recommenced: + +"Hail!" + +A boy's voice at the back of the room was heard to insinuate that +perhaps it would be easier for me to let it snow or rain. That made me +angry. I was as cool as ice all in a moment; I felt that I had the +mastery of the situation, and, making a sweeping gesture with my left +hand, I looked over my hearers' heads, and continued: + +"Hail! Fabbletown, bare village of the plain--Babbletown, fair pillage +of the vain--. Hail! friends and fellow-citizens--!" + +It was evident that I had borrowed somebody else's voice--my own +mother wouldn't have recognized it--and a mighty poor show of a voice, +too. It was like a race-horse that suddenly balks, and loses the race. +I had put up heavy stakes on that voice, but I couldn't budge it. Not +an inch faster would it go. In vain I whipped and spurred in silent +desperation--it balked at "fellow-citizens," and there it stuck. The +audience, good-naturedly, waited five minutes. At the end of that +time, I sat down, amid general applause, conscious that I had made +the sensation of the evening. + +Belle gave me the mitten that evening, and went home in Fred Hencoop's +sleigh. + +We didn't speak, after that, until about a week before the fair. She, +with some other girls, then came in the store to beg for "scraps" of +silk, muslin, and so-forth, to dress dolls for the fair. They were +very sweet, for they knew they could make a fool of me. Father was not +in, and I guess they timed their visit so that he wouldn't be. They +got half a yard of pink silk, as much of blue, ditto of lilac and +black, a yard of every kind of narrow ribbon in the store, a remnant +of book-muslin, three yards--in all, about six dollars' worth of +"scraps," and then asked me if I wasn't going to give a box of raisins +and the coffee for the table. I said I would. + +"And you'll come, Mr. Flutter, won't you? It'll be a failure unless +_you_ are there. You must _promise_ to come. We won't go out of this +store till you do. And, oh, don't forget to bring _your purse_ along. +We expect all the young gentlemen to _come prepared_, you know." + +There is no doubt that I went to the fair. It made my heart ache to do +it--for I'd already been pretty extravagant, one way and another--but +I put a ten-dollar bill in my wallet, resolved to spend every cent of +it rather than appear mean. + +I don't know whether I appeared mean or not; I do know that I spent +every penny of that ten dollars, and considerable more besides. If +there was anything at that fair that no one else wanted, and that was +not calculated to supply any known want of the human race, it was +palmed off on me. I became the unhappy possessor of five dressed +dolls, a lady's "nubia," a baby-jumper, fourteen "tidies," a set of +parlor croquet with wickets that wouldn't stand on their legs, a +patent churn warranted to make a pound of fresh butter in three +minutes out of a quart of chalk-and-water, a set of ladies' nightcaps, +two child's aprons, a castle-in-the-air, a fairy-palace, a doll's +play-house, a toy-balloon, a box of marbles, a pair of spectacles, a +pair of pillow-shams, a young lady's work-basket, seven needle-books, +a cradle-quilt, a good many bookmarks, a sofa-cushion, and an infant's +rattle, warranted to cut one's eye teeth; besides which I had tickets +in a fruit cake, a locket, a dressing-bureau, a baby-carriage, a +lady's watch-chain, and an infant's wardrobe complete. + +When I feebly remonstrated that I'd spent all the money I brought, I +was smilingly assured by innumerable female Tootses that "it was of no +consequence"; but I found there _were_ consequences when I came to +settle afterward for half the things at the fair, because I was too +bashful to say No, boldly. + +Fred Hencoop auctioned off the remaining articles after eleven +o'clock. Every time he put up something utterly unsalable, he would +look over at me, nod, and say: "Thank you, John; did you say fifty +cents?" or "Did I hear you say a dollar? A dollar--dollar--going, gone +to our friend and patron, John Flutter, Jr.," and some of the lady +managers would "make a note of it," and I was too everlastingly +embarrassed to deny it. + +"John," said father, about four o'clock in the afternoon the day after +the fair--"John, did you buy all these things?"--the front part of the +store was piled and crammed with my unwilling purchases. + +"Father, I don't know whether I did or not." + +"How much is the bill?" + +"$98.17." + +"How are you going to pay it?" + +"I've got the hundred dollars in bank grandmother gave me when she +died." + +"Draw the money, pay your debts, and either get married at once and +make these things useful, or we'll have a bonfire in the back yard." + +"I guess we'd better have the bonfire, father. I don't care for any +girl but Belle, and she won't have me." + +"Won't have you! I'm worth as much as Squire Marigold any day." + +"I know it, father; but I took her down to supper last night, and I +was so confused, with all the married ladies looking on, I made a +mess of it. I put two teaspoonfuls of sugar in her oyster stew, +salted her coffee, and insisted on her taking pickles with her +ice-cream. She didn't mind that so much, but when I stuffed my saucer +into my pocket, and conducted her into the coal-cellar instead of the +hall, she got out of patience. Father, I think I'd better go to +Arizona in the spring. I'm--" + +"Go to grass! if you want to," was the unfeeling reply; "but don't you +ever go to another fair, unless I go along to take care of you." + +But I think the bonfire made him feel better. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +HE COMMITS SUICIDE. + + +Two days after the fair (one day after the bonfire), some time during +the afternoon, I found myself alone in the store. Business was so dull +that father, with a yawn, said he guessed he'd go to the post-office +and have a chat with the men. + +"Be sure you don't leave the store a moment alone, John," was his +parting admonition. + +Of course I wouldn't think of such a thing--he need not have mentioned +it. I was a good business fellow for my age; the only blunders I ever +made were those caused by my failing--the unhappy failing to which I +have hitherto alluded. + +I sat mournfully on the counter after father left me, my head +reclining pensively against a pile of ten-cent calicoes; I was +thinking of my grandmother's legacy gone up in smoke--of how Belle +looked when she found I had conducted her into the coal-cellar--of +those tidies, cradle-quilts, bib-aprons, dolls' and ladies' fixings, +which had been nefariously foisted upon me, a base advantage taken of +my diffidence!--and I felt sad. I felt more than melancholy--I felt +mad. I resented the tricks of the fair ones. And I made a mighty +resolution! "Never--never--never," said I, between my clenched teeth, +"will I again be guilty of the crime of bashfulness--_never_!" + +I felt that I could face a female regiment--all Babbletown! I was +indignant; and there's nothing like honest, genuine indignation to +give courage. Oh, I'd show 'em. I wouldn't give a cent when the deacon +passed the plate on Sundays; I wouldn't subscribe to the char---- + +In the midst of my dark and vengeful resolutions I heard merry voices +on the pavement outside. + +Hastily raising my head from the pile of calicoes, I saw at least five +girls making for the store door--a whole bevy of them coming in upon +me at once. They were the same rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, deceitful, +shameless creatures who had persuaded me into such folly at the fair. +There was Hetty Slocum, the girl who coaxed me into buying the doll; +and Maggie Markham, who sold me the quilt; and Belle, and two others, +and they were chatting and giggling over some joke, and had to stop on +the steps until they could straighten their faces. I grew +fire-red--with indignation. + +"Oh, father, why are you not here?" I cried inwardly. "Oh, father, +what a shame to go off to the post-office and leave your son to face +these tried to feel as I felt five minutes before, like facing a +female regiment. _Now_ was the time to prove my courage--to turn over +a new leaf, take a new departure, begin life over again, show to these +giggling girls that I had some pride--some self-independence--some +self-resp----" + +The door creaked on its hinges, and at the sound a blind confusion +seized me. In vain I attempted, like a brave but despairing general, +to rally my forces; but they all deserted me at once; I was hidden +behind the calicoes, and with no time to arrange for a nobler plan of +escaping a meeting with the enemy--no auger-hole though which to +crawl. I followed the first impulse, stooped, and _hid under the +counter_. + +In a minute I wished myself out of that; but the minute had been too +much--the bevy had entered and approached the counter, at the very +place behind which I lay concealed. I was so afraid to breathe; the +cold sweat started on my forehead. + +"Why! there's no one in the store!" exclaimed Belle's voice. + +"Oh, yes; there must be. Let us look around and see," responded +Maggie, and they went tiptoeing around the room, peeping here and +there, while I silently tore my hair. I was so afraid they would come +behind the counter and discover me. + +In three minutes, which seemed as many hours, they came to the +starting-point again. + +"There isn't a soul here." + +"La, how funny! We might take something." + +"Yes, if we were thieves, what a fine opportunity we would have." + +"I'll bet three cents it's John's fault; his father would never leave +the store in this careless way." + +"What a queer fellow he is, anyway!" + +"Ha, ha, ha! so perfectly absurd! _Isn't_ it fun when he's about?" + +"I never was so tickled in my life as when he bought that quilt." + +"I thought I would die laughing when he took me into the coal-cellar, +but I kept a straight face." + +"Do _you_ think he's good-looking, Hetty?" + +"Who? John Flutter! _good-looking_? He's a perfect fright." + +"That's just what I think. Oh, isn't it too good to see the way he +nurses that little mustache of his? I'm going to send him a +magnifying-glass, so that he can count the hairs with less trouble." + +"If you will, I'll send a box of cold cream; we can send them through +the post-office, and he'll never find out who they came from." + +"Jolly! we'll do it! Belle won't send anything, for he's dead in love +with _her_." + +"Much good it'll do him, girls! Do you suppose I wouldn't marry that +simpleton if he was made of gold." + +"Did you ever see such a red face as he has? I would be afraid to come +near it with a light dress on." + +"And his ears!" + +"Monstrous! and always burning." + +"And the awkwardest fellow that ever blundered into a parlor. You know +the night he waited on me to Hetty's party? he stepped on my toes so +that I had to poultice them before I went to bed; he tore the train +all off my pink tarlatan; he spilled a cup of hot coffee down old Mrs. +Ballister's back, and upset his saucer of ice-cream over Ada's sweet +new book-muslin. Why, girls, just as sure as I am standing here, I saw +him cram the saucer into his pocket when Belle came up to speak with +him! I tell you, I was glad to get home that night without any more +accidents." + +"They say he always puts the tea-napkins into his pocket when he takes +tea away from home. But it's not kleptomania, it's only bashfulness. I +never heard before of his pocketing the saucers." + +"Well, he really did. It's awful funny. I don't know how we'd get +along without John this winter--he makes all the fun we have. What's +that?" + +"I don't know, it sounded like rats gnawing the floor." + +(It was only the amusing John gritting his teeth, I am able to +explain). + +"Did you ever notice his mouth?--how large it is." + +"Yes, it's frightful. I don't wonder he's ashamed of himself with that +mouth." + +"I don't mind his mouth so much--but his _nose_! I never did like a +turn-up nose in a man. But his father's pretty well off. It would be +nice to marry a whole store full of dry-goods and have a new dress +every time you wanted one. I wonder where they have gone to! I believe +I'll rap." + +The last speaker seized the yard-stick and thumped on the counter +directly over my head. + +"Oh, girls! let's go behind, and see how they keep things. I wonder +how many pieces of dress-silk there are left!" + +"I guess I'll go behind the counter, and play clerk. If any one comes +in, I'll go, as sure as the world! and wait on 'em. Won't it be fun? +There comes old Aunty Harkness now. I dare say she is after a spool of +thread or a paper of needles. I'm going to wait on her. Mr. Flutter +won't care--I'll explain when he comes in. What do you want, auntie?" +in a very loud voice. + +My head buzzed like a saw--my heart made such a loud thud against my +side I thought stars! she wanted "an ounce o' snuff," and that +article was kept in a glass jar in plain sight on the other side of +the store. There was a movement in that direction, and I recovered +partially, I half resolved to rise up suddenly--pretend I'd been +hiding for fun--and laugh the whole thing off as a joke. But the +insulting, the ridiculous comments I had overheard, had made me too +indignant. Pretty joke, indeed! But I wished I had obeyed the dictates +of prudence and affected to consider it so. Father came bustling in +while the girls were trying to tie up the snuff, and sneezing +beautifully. + +"What! what! young ladies! Where's John?" + +"That's more than we know--tschi-he! We've been waiting at least ten +minutes. Auntie Harkness wanted some stch-uff, and we thought we'd do +it for her. I s'pose you've no objections, Mr. Flutter?" + +"Not the least in the world, girls. Go ahead. I wonder where John is! +There! you'll sneeze your pretty noses off--let me finish it. John has +no business to leave the store. I don't like it--five cents, auntie, +to _you_--and I told him particularly not to leave it a minute. I +don't understand it; very sorry you've been kept waiting. What shall I +show you, young lady?" and father passed behind the counter and stood +with his toes touching my legs, notwithstanding I had shrunk into as +small space as was convenient, considering my size and weight. It was +getting toward dusk of the short winter afternoon, and I hoped and +prayed he wouldn't notice me. + +"What shall I show you, young ladies?" + +"Some light kid gloves, No. 6, please." + +"Yes, certainly--here they are. I do believe there's a strange dog +under the counter! Get out--get out, sir, I say!" and my cruel parent +gave me a vicious kick. + +I pinched his leg impressively. I meant it as a warning, to betray to +him that it was I, and to implore him, figuratively, to keep silence. + +But he refused to comprehend that agonized pinch; he resented it. He +gave another vicious kick. Then he stooped and looked under--it was a +little dark--too dark, alas! under there. He saw a man--but not to +recognize him. + +"Ho!" he yelled; "robber! thief! burglar! I've got you, fellow! Come +out o' that!" + +I never before realized father's strength. He got his hand in my +collar, and he jerked me out from under that counter, and shook me, +and held me off at arm's length. + +"There, Mr. Burglar," said he, triumphantly, "sneak in here again +will--JOHN!" + +The girls had been screaming and running, but they stood still now. + +"Yes, _John_!" said I, in desperation. "The drawer came loose under +the counter, and I was nailing on a strip of board when those _young +ladies_ came in. I kept quiet, just for fun. They began to talk in an +interesting manner, curiosity got the better of politeness, and I'm +afraid I've played eavesdropper," and I made a killing bow, meant +especially for Belle. + +"Well, you're a pretty one!" exclaimed father. + +"_So they say_," said I. "Don't leave, young ladies. I'd like to sell +you a magnifying-glass, and some cold cream." But they all left in a +hurry. They didn't even buy a pair of gloves. + +The girls must have told of it, for the story got out, and Fred +advised me to try counter-irritation for my bashfulness. + +"You're not a burglar," said he, "but you're guilty of +counter-fitting." + +"Nothing would suit me better," I retorted, "than to be tried for it, +and punished by solitary confinement." + +And there was nothing I should have liked so much. The iron had +entered my soul. I was worse than ever. I purchased a four-ounce vial +of laudanum, went to my room, and wrote a letter to my mother: + +"Mother, I am tired of life. My nose is turn-up, my mouth is large; I +pocket other people's saucers and napkins; I am always making +blunders. This is my last blunder. I shall never blush again. +Farewell. Let the inscription on my tombstone be--'Died of +Bashfulness.' JOHN." + +And I swallowed the contents of the vial, and threw myself on my +little bed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +HE IS DOOMED FOR WORSE ACCIDENTS. + + +It may seem strange for you to hear of me again, after the conclusion +of the last chapter of my blunders. But it was not I who made the last +blunder--it was the druggist. Quite by mistake the imbecile who waited +upon me put up four ounces of the aromatic syrup of rhubarb. I felt +myself gradually sinking into the death-sleep after I had taken it; +with the thought of Belle uppermost in my mind, I allowed myself to +sink--"no more catastrophes after this last and grandest one--no more +red faces--big mouth--tea-napkins--wonder--if she--will be--sorry!" +and I became unconscious. + +I was awakened from a comfortable slumber by loud screams; mother +stood by my bed, with the vial labeled "laudanum" in one hand, my +letter in the other. Father rushed into the room. + +"Father, John's committed suicide. Oh! bring the tartar-emetic quick! +Make some coffee as strong as lye! Oh! send for a stomach-pump. Tell +Mary to bring the things and put the coffee on; and you come here, an' +we'll walk him up and down--keep him a-going--that's his only +salvation! Oh! John, John! that ever your bashfulness should drive you +into this! Up with him, father! Oh! he's dying! He ain't able to help +himself one bit!" + +They dragged me off the bed, and marched me up and down the room. +Supposing, as a matter of course, that I ought to be expiring, I felt +that I was expiring. My knees tottered under me; they only hauled me +around the more violently. They forced a spoonful of tartar-emetic +down my throat; Mary, the servant-girl, poured a quart of black coffee +down me, half outside and half in; then they jerked me about the floor +again, as if we were dancing a Virginia reel. + +The doctor came and poked a long rubber tube down and converted me +into a patent pump, until the tartar-emetic, and the coffee, and the +pumpkin-pie I had eaten for dinner had all revisited this mundane +sphere. + +They had no mercy on me; I promenaded up and down and across with +father, with Mary, with the doctor, until I felt that I should die if +they didn't allow me to stop promenading. + +The worst of it was, the house was full of folks; they crowded about +the chamber door and looked at me, dancing up and down with the hired +girl and the doctor. + +"Shut the door--they shall _not_ look at me!" I gasped, at last. The +doctor felt my pulse and said proudly to my mother: + +"Madam, your son will live! Our skill and vigilance have saved him." + +"Bless you, doctor!" sobbed my parents. + +"I will _not_ live," I moaned, "to be the laughing stock of +Babbletown. I will buy some more." + +"John," said my father, weeping, "arouse yourself! You shall leave +this place, if you desire it--only live! I will get you the position +of weather-gauger on top of Mount Washington, if you say so, but don't +commit any more suicide, my son!" + +I was affected, and promised that I wouldn't, provided that I was +found a situation somewhere by myself. So the excitement subsided. +Father slept with me that night, keeping one eye open; the doctor got +the credit of saving my life, and the girls of Babbletown were scared +out of laughing at me for a whole month. + +When we came to talk the matter over seriously--father and I--it was +found to be too late in the season to procure me the Mount Washington +appointment for the winter; besides, the effect of my attempt to +"shuffle off this mortal coil" was to literally overrun our store with +customers. People came from the country for fifteen miles around, in +ox teams, on horse-back, in sleighs and cutters, and bob-sleds, and +crockery-crates, to buy something, in hopes of getting a glimpse of +the bashful young man who swallowed the pizen. Now, father was too +cute a Yankee not to take advantage of the mob. He forgot his +promises, and made me stay in the store from morning till night, so +that women could say: "I bought this 'ere shirting from the young man +who committed suicide; he did it up with his own hands." + +"I'll give you a fair share o' the profits, John," father would say, +slyly. + +Well, things went on as it greased; the girls mostly stayed away--the +Babbletown girls, for they had guilty consciences, I suspect; and in +February there came a thaw. I stood looking out of the store window +one day; the snow had melted in the street, and right over the stones +that had been laid across the road for a walk, there was a great +puddle of muddy water about two yards wide and a foot deep. I soon saw +Hetty Slocum tripping across the street; she came to the puddle and +stood still; the soft slush was heaped up on either side--she couldn't +get around and she couldn't go through. My natural gallantry got the +better of my resentment, and I went out to help her over, +notwithstanding what she had said when I was under the counter. +Planting one foot firmly in the center of the puddle and bracing the +other against the curb-stone, I extended my hand. + +"If you're good at jumping, Miss Slocum," said I, "I'll land you +safely on this side." + +"Oh," said she, roguishly, "Mr. Flutter, can I trust you?" and she +reached out her little gloved hand. + +All my old embarrassment rushed over me. I became nervous at the +critical moment when I should have been cool. I never could tell just +how it happened--whether her glove was slippery, or my foot slipped on +a piece of ice under slush, or what--but the next moment we were both +of us sitting down in fourteen inches of very cold, very muddy water. + +[Illustration: THE NEXT MOMENT WE WERE BOTH OF US SITTING DOWN IN +FOURTEEN INCHES OF VERY COLD, VERY MUDDY WATER.] + +My best beaver hat flew off and was run over by a passing sled, while +a little dog ran away with Hetty's seal-skin muff. + +I floundered around in that puddle for about two minutes, and then I +got up. Hetty still sat there. She was white, she was so mad. + +"I might a known better," said she. "Let me alone. I'd sit here +forever, before I'd let _you_ help me up." + +The boys were coming home from school, and they began to hoot and +laugh. I ran after the little dog who was making off with the muff. +How Hetty got up, or who came to her rescue I don't know. That cur +belonged about four miles out of town, and he never let up until he +got home. + +I grabbed the muff just as he was disappearing under the house with +it, and then I walked slowly back. The people who didn't know me took +me for an escaped convict--I was water-soaked and muddy, hatless, and +had a sneaking expression, like that of a convicted horse-thief. Two +or three persons attempted to arrest me. Finally, two stout farmers +succeeded, and brought me into the village in triumph, and marched me +between them to the jail. + +"Why, what's Mr. Flutter been doin'?" asked the sheriff, coming out to +meet us. + +"Do you mean to say you know him?" inquired one of the men. + +"Yes, I know him. That's our esteemed fellow-citizen, young Flutter." + +"And he ain't no horse-thief nor nuthin'!" + +"Not a bit of it, I assure you." + +The man eyed me from head to foot, critically and contemptuously. + +"Then all I've got to say," he remarked slowly, "is this--appearances +is very deceptive." + +It was getting dusk by this time, and I was thankful for it. + +"I slipped down in a mud-puddle and lost my hat," I explained to the +sheriff, as I turned away, and had the satisfaction of hearing the +other one of my arresters say, behind my back: + +"Oh, drunk!" + +I hired a little boy, for five cents, to deliver Miss Slocum's muff at +her residence. Then I went into the house by the kitchen, bribed Mary +to clean my soiled pants without telling mother, slipped up-stairs, +and went to bed without my supper. + +The next day I bought a handsome seven-dollar ring, and sent it to +Hetty as some compensation for the damage done to her dress. + +That evening was singing-school evening. I went early, so as to get my +seat without attracting attention. Early as I was, I was not the +first. A group of young people was gathered about the great +black-board, on which the master illustrated his lessons. They were +having lots of fun, and did not notice me as I came in. I stole +quietly to a seat behind a pillar. Fred Hencoop was drawing something +on the board, and explaining it. As he drew back and pointed with the +long stick, I saw a splendid caricature of myself pursuing a small +dog with a muff, while a young lady sat quietly in a mud-puddle in the +corner of the black-board, and Fred was saying, with intense gravity: + +"This is the man, all tattered and torn, that spattered the maiden all +forlorn. _This_ is the dog that stole the muff. _This_ is the ring he +sent the maid--" + +"Muff-in ring," suggested some one, and then they laughed louder than +ever. + +I felt that that singing-school was no place for me that evening, and +I stole away as noiselessly as I had entered. + +I went home and packed my trunk. The next morning I said to father: + +"Give me my share of the profits for the last month," and he gave me +one hundred and thirty dollars. "I am going where no one knows me, +mother, so good-bye. You'll hear from me when I'm settled," and I was +actually off on the nine o'clock New York express. + +Every seat was full in every car but one--one seat beside a pretty, +fashionably-dressed young lady was vacant. I stood up against the +wood-box and looked at that seat, as a boy looks at a jar of +peppermint-drops in a candy-store window. After a while I reflected +that these people were all strangers, and, of course, unaware of my +infirmity; this gave me a certain degree of courage. I left the +support of the wood-box and made my way along the aisle until I came +to the vacant seat. + +"Miss," I began, politely, but the lady purposely looked the other +way; she had her bag in the place where I wanted to sit, and she +didn't mean to move it, if she could help it. "Miss," I said again, in +a louder tone. + +Two or three people looked at us. That confused me; her refusing to +look around confused me; one of my old bad spells began to come on. + +"Miss," I whispered, leaning toward her, blushing and embarrassed, "I +would like to know if you are engaged--if--if you are taken, I mean?" + +She looked at me then sharp enough. + +"Yes, sir, I _am_," she said calmly; "and going to be married next +week." + +The passengers began to laugh, and I began to back out. I didn't stop +at the wood-box, but retreated into the next car, where I stood until +my legs ached, and then sat down by an ancient lady, with a long nose, +blue spectacles, and a green veil. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE. + + +It is a serious thing to be as bashful as I am. There's nothing at all +funny about it, though some people seem to think there is. I was +assured, years ago, that it would wear off and betray the brass +underneath; but I must have been triple-plated. I have had rubs enough +to wear out a wash-board, yet there doesn't a bit of brass come to the +surface yet. Beauty may be only skin-deep; modesty, like mine, +pervades the grain. If I really believed my bashfulness was only +cuticle-deep, I'd be flayed to-day, and try and grow a hardier +complexion without any Bloom of Youth in it. No use! I could pave a +ten-thousand-acre prairie with the "good intentions" I have wasted, +the firm resolutions I have broken. Born to be bashful is only another +way of expressing the Bible truth, "Born to trouble as the sparks are +to fly upward." + +When I sat down by the elderly lady in the railway train, I felt +comparatively at ease. She was older than mother, and I didn't mind +her rather aggressive looks and ways; in short, I seemed to feel that +in case of necessity she would protect me. Not that I was afraid of +anything, but she would probably at least keep me from proposing to +any more young ladies. Alas! how _could_ I have any presentiment of +the worse danger lurking in store for me? How could I, young, +innocent, and inexperienced, foresee the unforeseeable? I could not. +Reviewing all the circumstances by the light of wiser days, I still +deny that I was in any way, shape, or manner to blame for what +occurred. I sat in my half of the seat, occupying as little room as +possible, my eyes fixed on the crimson plush cushions of the seat +before me, my thoughts busy with the mortifying past, and the great +unknown future into which I was blindly rushing at the rate of thirty +miles an hour--sat there, dreading the great city into which I was so +soon to plunge--when a voice, closely resembling vinegar sweetened +with honey, said, close to my ear: + +"Goin' to New York, sir?" + +"Yes, ma'am," I answered, coming out of my reverie with a little jump. + +"I'm real glad," said my companion, taking off her blue spectacles, +and leaning toward me confidentially; "so I am. I'm quite unprotected, +sir, quite, and I shall be thankful to place myself under your care. +I'm goin' down to the city to buy my spring stock o' millinery, an' +any little attention you can show me will be gratefully +received--gratefully. I don't mind admitting to _you_, young man, for +you look pure and uncorrupted, that I am terribly afraid of men. They +are wicked, heartless creatures. I feel that I might more safely trust +myself with ravening wolves than with men in general, but _you_ are +different. _You_ have had a good mother." + +"Yes, ma'am, I have," I responded, rather warmly. + +I was pleased at her commendation of me and mother, but puzzled as to +the character of the danger to which she referred. I finally concluded +that she was afraid of being robbed, and I put my lips close to her +ear, so that no one should overhear us, and asked: + +"Do you carry your money about you?--you ought not to run such a risk. +I've been told there are always one or more thieves on every express +train." + +"My dear young friend," she whispered back, very, very close in my +ear, "I was not thinking of money--_that_ is all in checks, safely +deposited in--in--in te-he! inside the lining of my waist. I was only +referring to the dangers which ever beset the unmarried lady, +especially the unsophisticated maiden, far, far from her native +village. Why, would you believe it, already, sir, since I left home, a +man, a _gentleman_, sitting in the very seat where you sit now, made +love to me, out-and-out!" + +"Made love to you?" I stammered, shrinking into the farthest corner, +and regarding her with undisguised astonishment. + +"You may well appear surprised. Promise me that you will remain by my +side until we reach our destination." + +She appeared kind of nervous and agitated, and I promised. Instead of +being protected, I found myself figuring in the _role_ of protector. +My timid companion did the most of the talking; she pumped me pretty +dry of facts about myself, and confided to me that she was doing a +good business--making eight hundred a year clear profit--and all she +wanted to complete her satisfaction was the right kind of a partner. + +She proposed to me to become that partner. I said that I did not +understand the millinery business; she said I had been a clerk in a +dry-goods store, and that was the first step; I said I didn't think I +should fancy the bonnet line. She said I should be a _silent_ partner; +all in the world I'd have to do would be to post the books, and she'd +warrant me a thousand dollars a year, for the business would double. I +said I had but one hundred and thirty dollars; she said, write to my +pa for more, but she'd take me without a cent--there was something in +my face that showed her I was to be trusted. + +She was so persistent that I began to be alarmed--I felt that I should +be drawn into that woman's clutches against my will. I got pale and +cold, and the perspiration broke out on my brow. Was it for this I +had fled from home and friends? To become a partner in the +hat-and-bonnet business, with a dreadful old maid, who wore blue +spectacles and curled her false hair. I shivered. + +"Poor darling!" said she, "the boy is cold," and she wrapped me up in +a big plaid shawl of her own. + +The very touch of that shawl made me feel as if I had a thousand +caterpillars crawling over me; yet I was too bashful to break loose +from its folds. I grew feverish. + +"There," said she, "you are getting your color back." + +The more attention she paid to me the more homesick I grew. I looked +piteously in the conductor's face as he passed by. He smiled +relentlessly. I glanced wildly yet furtively about to see if, +perchance, a vacant seat were to be descried. + +"Rest thy head on this shoulder; thou art weary," she said. "I will +put my veil over your face and you can catch a nap." + +But I was not to be caught napping. + +"No, I thank you--I never sleep in the day time," I stammered. + +Oh, what a ride I was having! How wretched I felt! Yet I was too +bashful to shake off the shawl and stand up before a car-load of +people. + +Suddenly, something happened. The blue spectacles flew over my head, +and I flew over the seat in front of me. Thank goodness! I was saved +from that female! I picked myself up from out of the _débris_ of the +wreck. I saw a green veil, and a lady looking around for her lost +teeth, and having ascertained that no one was killed, I limped away +and hid behind a stump. I stayed behind that stump three mortal hours. +When the train went again on its winding way I was not one of the +passengers. I walked, bruised and sore as I was, to the nearest +village, and took the first train in the opposite direction. That +evening, as father and mother were sitting down to their solitary but +excellent tea, I walked in on 'em. + +"No more foreign trips for me," said I; "I will stick to Babbletown, +and try and stand the consequences." + +About four days after this, father laid a letter on the counter before +me--a large, long, yellow envelope, with a big red seal. "Read that," +was his brief comment. + +I took it up, unfolded the foolscap, and read: + + "JOHN FLUTTER, SENIOR:--I have the honor to inform you that + my client, Miss Alvira Slimmens, has instructed me to + proceed against your son for breach of promise of marriage, + laying her damages at twelve hundred dollars. As your son is + not legally of age, we shall hold you responsible. A + compromise, to avoid publicity of suit, is possible. Send + us your check for $1,000 and you will hear no more of this + matter. + +"Respectfully, + +"WILLIAM BLACK, Attorney-at-Law, + +"_Pennyville, N. Y._" + +"Oh, father!" I cried, "I swear to you this is not my fault!" Looking +up in distress I saw that my parent was laughing. + +"I have heard of Alvira before," said he; "no, it is _not_ your fault, +my poor boy. Let me see, Alvira was thirty twenty-one years ago when I +was married to your ma. I used to be in Pennyville sometimes, in those +days, and she was sweet on me, John, then. I'll answer this letter, +and answer it to her, and not her lawyer. Don't you be uneasy, my son. +I'll tend to her. But you had a narrow escape; I don't wonder you, +with your bashfulness, fled homeward to your ma." + +"Then it wasn't my blunder this time, father?" + +"I exonerate you, my son!" + +For once a glow of happiness diffused itself over my much-tried +spirits. I was so exalted that when a young lady came in for a bottle +of bandoline I gave her Spaulding's prepared glue instead; and the +next time I met that young lady she wore a bang--she had used the +new-fangled bandoline, and the only way to get the stuff out of her +hair was to cut it off. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HE ENACTS THE PART OF GROOMSMAN. + + +"Out of the frying-pan into the fire!" This should have been my chosen +motto from the beginning. The performance of the maddening feat +indicated in the proverb has been the principal business of my life. I +am always finding myself in the frying-pan, and always flopping out +into the fire. My father's interference saved me from the dreadful old +creature into whose net I had stumbled when I fled from my native +village, only to return with the certainty that I was unfit to cope +with the world outside of it. + +"I will never put my foot beyond the township line again," I vowed to +my secret soul. I had a harrowing sorrow preying upon me all the +remainder of the winter. I was given to understand that Belle Marigold +was actually engaged to Fred Hencoop. And she might have been mine! +Alas, that mighty _might_! + + "Of all sad words of tongue or pen + The saddest are these--'It might have been!'" + +I am positive that when I first came home from school she admired me +very much. She welcomed my early attentions. It was only the +ridiculous blunders into which my bashfulness continually drove me +that alienated her regard. If I had not caught my foot in the reins +that time I got out of the buggy in front of her house--if I had not +fallen in the water and had my clothes shrink in drying--nor choked +almost to death--nor got under the counter--nor failed to "speak my +piece"--nor sat down in that mud-puddle--nor committed suicide--nor +run away from home--nor performed any other of the thousand-and-one +absurd feats into which my constitutional embarrassment was +everlastingly urging me, I declare boldly, "Belle might have been +mine." She had encouraged me at first. Now it was too late. She had +"declined," as Tennyson says, "on a lower love than mine"--on Fred +Hencoop's. + +The thought was despair. Never did I realized of what the human heart +is capable until Belle came into the store, one lovely spring morning, +looking like a seraph in a new spring bonnet, and blushingly--with a +saucy flash of her dark eyes that made her rising color all the more +divine--inquired for table-damask and 4-4 sheetings. + +With an ashen brow and quivering lip, I displayed before her our best +assortment of table-cloths and napkins, pillow-casing and sheeting. +Her mother accompanied her to give her the benefit of her experience; +and kept telling her daughter to choose the best, and what and how +many dozens she had before she was married. + +They ran up a big bill at the store that morning, and father came +behind the counter to help, and was mightily pleased; but I felt as if +I were measuring off cloth for my own shroud. + +"Come, John, you go do up the sugar for Widow Smith, her boy is +waiting," said my parent, seeing the muddle into which I was getting +things. "I will attend to these ladies--twelve yards of the +pillow-casing, did you say, Mrs. Marigold?" + +I moved down to the end of the store and weighed and tied up in brown +paper the "three pounds of white sugar to make cake for the +sewin'-society," which the lad had asked for. A little girl came in +for a pound of bar-soap, and I attended to her wants. Then another +boy, with a basket, came in a hurry for a dozen of eggs. You see, ours +was one of those village-stores that combine all things. + +While I waited on these insignificant customers father measured off +great quantities of white goods for the two ladies; and I strained my +ears to hear every word that was said. They asked father if he was +going to New York _soon_? He said, in about ten days. Then Mrs. +Marigold confided to him that they wanted him to purchase twenty-five +yards of white corded silk. + +If every cord in that whole piece of silk had been drawing about my +throat I couldn't have felt more suffocated. I sat right down, I felt +so faint, in a tub of butter. I had just sense enough left to remember +that I had on my new spring lavender pants. The butter was +disgustingly soft and mushy. + +"Come here, John, and add up this bill," called father. + +"I can't; I'm sick." + +I had got up from the tub and was leaning on the counter--I was pale, +I know. + +"Why, what's the matter?" he asked. + +Belle cast one guilty look in my direction. "It's the spring weather, +I dare say," she said softly to my parent. + +I sneaked out of the back door and went across the yard to the house +to change my pants. I _was_ sick, and I did not emerge from my room +until the dinner-bell rang. + +I went down then, and found father, usually so good-natured, looking +cross, as he carved the roast beef. + +"You will never be good for anything, John," was his salutation--"at +least, not as a clerk. I've a good mind to write to Captain Hall to +take you to the North Pole." + +"What's up, father?" + +"Oh, nothing!" _very_ sarcastically. "That white sugar you sent Mrs. +Smith was table-salt, and she made a whole batch of cake out of it +before she discovered her mistake. She was out of temper when she flew +in the store, I tell you. I had not only to give her the sugar, but +enough butter and eggs to make good her loss, and throw in a neck-tie +to compensate her for waste of time. Before she got away, in came the +mother of the little girl to whom you had given a slab of molasses +candy for bar-soap, and said that the child had brought nothing home +but some streaks of molasses on her face. Just as I was coming out to +dinner the other boy brought back the porcelain eggs you had given him +with word that 'Ma had biled 'em an hour, and she couldn't even budge +the shells.' So you see, my son, that in a miscellaneous store you are +quite out of your element." + +"It was that flirt of a Belle Marigold that upset him," said mother, +laughing so that she spilled the gravy on the table-cloth. "He'll be +all right when she is once Mrs. Hencoop." + +That very evening Fred came in the store to ask me to be his +groomsman. + +"We're going to be married the first of June," he told me, grinning +like an idiot. + +"Does Belle know that you invite me to be groomsman?" I responded, +gloomily. + +"Yes; she suggested that you be asked. Rose Ellis is to be +bridesmaid." + +"Very well; I accept." + +"All right, old fellow. Thank you," slapping me on the back. + +As I lay tossing restlessly on my bed that night--after an hour spent +in a vain attempt to take the butter out of my lavenders with French +chalk--I made a new and firm resolution. I would make Belle sorry that +she had given her preference to Fred. I would so bear myself--during +our previous meetings and consultations, and during the day of the +ceremony--that she should bitterly repent not having given me an +opportunity to conquer my diffidence before taking up with Frederick +Hencoop. The opportunity was given me to redeem myself. I would prove +that, although modest, I was a gentleman; that the blushing era of +inexperience could be succeeded by one of calm grandeur. Chesterfield +could never have been more quietly self-possessed; Beau Brummell more +imperturbable. I would get by heart all the little formalities of the +occasion, and, when the time came, I would execute them with +consummate ease. + +These resolutions comforted me--supported me under the weight of +despair I had to endure. Ha! yes. I would show some people that some +things could be done as well as others. + +It was four weeks to the first of June. As I had ruined my lavender +trousers I ordered another pair, with suitable neck-tie, vest, and +gloves, from New York. I also ordered three different and +lately-published books on etiquette. I studied in all three of these +the etiquette of weddings. I thoroughly posted myself on the ancient, +the present, and the future duties of "best men" on such occasions. I +learned how they do it in China, in Turkey, in Russia, in New Zealand, +more particularly how it is done, at present, in England and America. +As the day drew nigh I felt equal to the emergency I had a powerful +motive for acquitting myself handsomely. I wanted to show _her_ what a +mistake she had made. + +The wedding was to take place in church at eight o'clock in the +evening. The previous evening we--that is, the bride-elect, groom, +bridesmaid, and groomsman, parents, and two or three friends--had a +private rehearsal, one of the friends assuming the part of clergyman. +All went merry as a marriage bell. I was the soul of ease and grace: +Fred was the awkward one, stepping on the bride's train, dropping the +ring, and so forth. + +"I declare, Mr. Flutter, I never saw any one improve as you have," +said Belle, aside to me, when we had returned to her house. "I do hope +poor Fred will get along better to-morrow. I shall be really vexed at +him if anything goes wrong." + +"You must forgive a little flustration on his part," I loftily +answered. "Perhaps, were I in his place, I should be agitated too." + +Well, the next evening came, and at seven o'clock I repaired to the +squire's residence. Fred was already there, walking up and down the +parlor, a good deal excited, but dressed faultlessly and looking +frightfully well. + +"Why, John," was his first greeting, "aren't you going to wear any +cravat?" + +I put my hand up to my neck and dashed madly back a quarter of a mile +for the delicate white silk tie I had left on my dressing bureau. +This, of course, made me uncomfortably warm. When I got back to the +squire's I was in a perspiration, felt that my calm brow was flushed, +and had to wipe it with my handkerchief. + +"Come," said that impatient Fred, "you have just two minutes to get +your gloves on." + +My hands were damp, and being hurried had the effect to make me +nervous, in spite of four long weeks' constant resolution. What with +the haste and perspiration, I tore the thumb completely out of the +left glove. + +Never mind; no time to mend, in spite of the proverb. + +The bride came down-stairs, cool, white, and delicious as an orange +blossom. She was helped into one carriage; Fred and I entered another. + +"I hope you feel cool," I said to Fred. + +"I hope _you_ do," he retorted. + +I have always laid the catastrophe which followed to the first mistake +in having to fly home for my neck-tie. I was disconcerted by that, and +I couldn't exactly get concerted again. + +I don't know what happened after the carriage stopped at the church +door--I must take the report of my friends for it. They say that I +bolted at the last moment, and followed the bride up one aisle instead +of the groom up the other, as I should have done. But I was perfectly +calm and collected. Oh, yes, that was why, when we attempted to form +in front of the altar, I insisted on standing next to Belle, and when +I was finally pushed into my place by the irate Fred, I kept diving +forward every time the clergyman said anything, trying to take the +bride's hand, and responding, "Belle, I take thee to be my lawful, +wedded," answering, "I do," loudly, to every question, even to that +"Who gives this woman?" etc., until every man, woman, and child in +church was tittering and giggling, and the holy man had to come to a +full pause, and request me to realize that it was not I who was being +married. + +"I do. With all my worldly goods I thee endow," was my reply to his +reminder. + +"For Heaven's sake subside, or I'll thrash you within an inch of your +life when I get out of this," whispered Fred. + +Dimly mistrusting that I was on the wrong track, I turned and seized +Mrs. Marigold by the hand, and began to feel in my pocket for a ring, +because I saw the groom taking one out of his pocket. + +The giggling and tittering increased; somebody--father or the +constable--took me by the shoulder and marched me out of that; after +which, I suppose, the ceremony was duly concluded. I only know that +somebody knocked me down about five minutes afterward--I have been +told that it was the bridegroom who did it--and that all the books of +etiquette on earth won't fortify a man against the attacks of +constitutional bashfulness. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MEETS A PAIR OF BLUE EYES. + + +I kept pretty quiet the remainder of that summer--didn't even attend +church for several weeks. In fact, I got father to give me a vacation, +and beat a retreat into the country during the month of July, to an +aunt of mine, who lived on a small farm with her husband, her son of +fourteen, and a "hand." Their house was at least a mile from the +nearest neighbor's, and as I was less afraid of Aunt Jerusha than of +any other being of her sex, and as there was not another frock, +sun-bonnet, or apron within the radius of a mile, I promised myself a +month of that negative bliss which comes from retrospection, solitude, +and the pleasure of following the men about the harvest-field. Sitting +quietly under some shadowing tree, with my line cast into the still +pool of a little babbling trout-brook, where it was held in some +hollow of nature's hand, I had leisure to forget the past and to make +good resolutions for the future. Belle Marigold was forever lost to +me. She was Mrs. Hencoop; and Fred had knocked me down because I had +been so unfortunate as to lose my presence of mind at his wedding. +All was over between us. + +The course now open for me to pursue was to forever steel my heart to +the charms of the other sex, to attend strictly to business, to grow +rich and honored, while, at the same time, I hardened into a sort of +granite obelisk, incapable of blushing, faltering, or stepping on +other people's toes. + +One day, as the men were hauling in the "loaded wains" from the fields +to the great barn, I sat under my favorite tree, as usual, waiting for +a bite. Three speckled beauties already lay in a basin of water at my +side, and I was thinking what a pleasant world this would be were +there no girls in it, when suddenly I heard a burst of silvery +laughter! + +Looking up, there, on the opposite side of the brook, stood two young +ladies! They were evidently city girls. Their morning toilets were the +perfection of simple elegance--hats, parasols, gloves, dresses, the +very cream of style. + +Both of them were pretty--one a dark, bright-eyed brunette, the other +a blonde, fair as a lily and sweet as a rose. Their faces sparkled +with mischief, but they made a great effort to resume their dignity. + +I jumped to my feet, putting one of them--my feet, I mean--in the +basin of water I had for my trout. + +"Oh, it's too bad to disturb you, sir," said the dark-eyed one. "You +were just having a nibble, I do believe. But we have lost our way. We +are boarding at the Widow Cooper's, and came out for a ramble in the +woods, and got lost; and here, just as we thought we were on the right +way home, we came to this naughty little river, or whatever you call +it, and can't go a step farther. Is there no way of getting across it, +sir?" + +"There is a bridge about a quarter of a mile above here, but to get to +it you will have to go through a field in which there is a very cross +bull. Then there is a log just down here a little ways--I'll show it +to you, ladies"; and tangling my beautiful line inextricably in my +embarrassment, I threw down my fishing-rod and led the way, I on one +side of the stream and they on the other. + +"Oh, oh!" cried Blue-Eyes, when we reached the log. "I'll be sure to +get dizzy and fall off." + +"Nonsense!" said Black-Eyes, bravely, and walked over without winking. + +"I shall never--never dare!" screamed Blue-Eyes. + +"Allow me to assist you, miss," I said, in my best style, going on the +log and reaching out my hand to steady her. + +She laid her little gray glove in my palm, and put one tiny slipper on +the log, and then she stood, the little coquette! shrinking and +laughing, and taking a step and retreating, and I falling head over +ears in love with her, deeper and deeper every second. I do believe, +if the other one hadn't been there, I would have taken her right up in +my arms and carried her over. Well, Black-Eyes began to scold, and so, +at last, she ventured across, and then she said she was tired and +thirsty, and did wish she had a glass of milk; and so I asked her to +go to the house, and rest a few minutes, and Aunt Jerusha would give +them some milk. You'd better believe aunt opened her eyes, when she +saw me marching in as bold as brass, with two stylish young ladies; +while, the moment I met her sly look, all my customary confusion--over +which I had contrived to hold a tight rein--ran rampant and jerked at +my self-possession until I lost control of it! + +"These young ladies, Aunt Jerusha," I stammered, "would like a glass +of milk. They've got lost, and don't know where they are, and can't +find their way back, and I expect I'll have to show them the way." + +"They're very welcome," said aunt, who was kindness itself, and she +went into the milk-pantry and brought out two large goblets of +morning's milk, with the rising cream sticking around the inside. + +I started forward gallantly, took the server from aunt's hand, and +conveyed it, with almost the grace of a French waiter, across the +large kitchen to where the two beautiful beings were resting in the +chairs which I had set for them. Unfortunately, being blinded by my +bashfulness, I caught my toe in a small hole in aunt's rag carpet, the +result being that I very abruptly deposited both glasses of milk, +bottom up, in the lap of Blue-Eyes. A feeling of horror overpowered me +as I saw that exquisite toilet in ruins--those dainty ruffles, those +cunning bows the color of her eyes, submerged in the lacteal fluid. + +I think a ghastly pallor must have overspread my face as I stood +motionless, grasping the server in my clenched hands. + +What do you think Blue-Eyes said? _This_ is the way she "gave me +fits." Looking up prettily to my aunt, she says: + +"Oh, madam, I am _so_ sorry for your carpet." + +"Your dress!" exclaimed Aunt Jerusha. + +"Never mind _that_, madam. It can go to the laundry." + +"Well, I never!" continued aunt, flying about for a towel, and wiping +her off as well as she could; "but John Flutter is so careless. He's +_always_ blundering. He means well enough, but he's bashful. You'd +think a clerk in a dry-goods store would get over it some time now, +wouldn't you? Well, young ladies, I'll get some more milk for you; but +I won't trust it in _his_ hands." + +When Aunt Jerusha let the cat out of the bag about my bashfulness, +Blue-Eyes flashed, at me from under her long eyelashes a glance so +roguish, so perfectly infatuating, that my heart behaved like a +thermometer that is plunged first into a tea-kettle and then into +snow; it went up into my throat, and then down into my boots. I still +grasped the server and stood there like a revolving lantern--one +minute white, another red. Finally my heart settled into my boots. It +was evident that fate was against me. I was _doomed_ to go on leading +a blundering existence. My admiration for this lovely girl was already +a thousand times stronger than any feeling I had ever had for Belle +Marigold. Yet how ridiculous I must appear to her. How politely she +was laughing at me. + +The sense of this, and the certainty that I was born to blunder, came +home to me with crushing weight. I turned slowly to Aunt Jerusha, who +was bringing fresh milk, and said, with a simplicity to which pathos +must have given dignity: + +"Aunt, will you show them the way to Widow Cooper's? I am going to the +barn to hang myself," and I walked out. + +"Is he in earnest?" I heard Blue-Eyes inquire. + +"Wall, now, I shouldn't be surprised," avowed Aunt Jerusha. "He's been +powerful low-spirited lately. You see, ladies, he was born that +bashful that life is a burden to him." + +I walked on in the direction of the barn; I would not pause to listen +or to cast a backward glance. Doubtless, my relative told them of my +previous futile attempt to poison myself--perhaps became so interested +in relating anecdotes of her nephew's peculiar temperament, that she +forgot the present danger which threatened him. At least, it was some +time before she troubled herself to follow me to ascertain if my +threat meant anything serious. + +When she finally arrived at the large double door, standing wide open +for the entrance of the loaded wagons, she gave a sudden shriek. + +I was standing on the beam which supported the light flooring of the +hay-loft; beneath was the threshing-floor; above me the great rafters +of the barn, and around one of these I had fastened a rope, the other +terminus of which was knotted about my neck. + +I stood ready for the fatal leap. + +As she screamed, I slightly raised my hand: + +"Silence, Aunt Jerusha, and receive my parting instructions. Tell +Blue-Eyes that I love her madly, but not to blame herself for my +untimely end. The ruin of her dress was only the last drop in the +cup--the last straw on the camel's back. Farewell!" and as she threw +up her arms and shrieked to me to desist, I rolled up my eyes--and +sprang from the beam. + +For a moment I thought myself dead. The experience was different from +what I had anticipated. Instead of feeling choked, I had a pain in my +legs, and it seemed to me that I had been shut together like an +opera-glass. Still I knew that I must be dead, and I kept very quiet +until the sound of little screams and gurgles of--what?--_laughter_, +smote my ears! + +Then I opened my eyes and looked about. I was not dangling in the air +overhead, but standing on the threshing-floor, with a bit of broken +halter about my neck. The rope had played traitor and given way +without even chafing my throat. + +[Illustration: "I STOOD READY FOR THE FATAL LEAP."] + +I dare say the sight of me, standing there with my eyes closed and +looking fully convinced that I was dead, must have been vastly +amusing to the two young ladies, who had followed Aunt Jerusha to the +door. They laughed as if I had been the prince of clowns, and had just +performed a most funny trick in the ring. I began to feel as if I had, +too. + +Aunt rushed forward and gave me a shake. + +"Another blunder, John," she said; "it's plain as the nose on a man's +face that Providence never intended you to commit suicide." + +And then Blue-Eyes, repressing her mirth, came forward, half shy and +half coaxing, and said to me: + +"How my sister and I would feel if you had killed yourself on our +account! Come! do please show us the way to our boarding-house. Mamma +will be so anxious about us." + +Cunning witch! she knows, how to twist a man around her little finger. + +"Come," she continued, "let _me_ untie this ugly rope." + +And I did let her, and picked up my hat to walk with them to the Widow +Cooper's. + +They made themselves very agreeable on the way--so that I would think +no more of hanging myself, I suppose. + +Only one more little incident occurred on the road. We met a tramp. He +was a roughly-dressed fellow, with a straw hat such as farmers wear, +whose broad brim nearly hid his face. He sauntered up impudently, and, +before we could pass him, he chucked Blue-Eyes under the chin. In +less than half a second he was flying backward over the rail fence, +although he was a tall fellow, more than my weight. + +"Now," said I proudly to myself, "she will forget that unlucky circus +performance in the barn." + +Imagine my sensations when she turned on me with the fire flashing out +of those soft blue eyes. + +"What did you fling my brother over the fence for?" + +That was what she asked me. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +HE CATCHES A TROUT AND PRESENTS IT TO A LADY. + + +"Some achieve greatness; some have greatness thrust upon them." I +think I have achieved greatness. Of one thing I am convinced: that it +is only necessary to do some one thing _well_--as well or better than +any one else--in order to acquire distinction. The thing I do really +well--better than any living human being--is to blunder. I defy +competition. There are champion tight-rope dancers, billiard players, +opera singers, swindlers, base-ballists, candidates for the +Presidency. I am the champion blunderer. You remember the man who +asked of another, "Who is that coarse, homely creature across the +room?" and received for answer, "That creature is my wife!" Well, I +_ought_ to have been that man, although in that case I did not happen +to be. My compliments always turn out to be left-handed ones; all my +remarks, all my efforts to please are but so many never-ending +_faux-pas_. + +As a general seeks to retrieve one defeat by some act of unparalleled +bravery, so had I sought to wipe out from the memory of the lovely +pair whom I escorted, my shameful failure to hang myself, by gallantly +pitching over the fence the fellow who had made himself too familiar +with the fairer of the two; and, as a _matter of course_, he turned +out to be her favorite brother. + +He was a good-natured fellow, after all--a perfect gentleman; and when +I stammered out my excuses, saying that I had mistaken him for a +tramp, he laughed and shook hands with me, explaining that he was in +his fishing costume, and saying very handsomely that were his dear +sister ever in such danger of being insulted, he hoped some person as +plucky as I would be on hand to defend her. This was applying cold +cream to my smarting self-love. But it did not prevent me from +observing the sly glances exchanged between the girls, nor prevent my +hearing the little bursts of suppressed giggling which they pretended +were caused by the funny motions of the hay-cutter in a neighboring +field. So, as their brother could show them the way to Widow Cooper's, +I said good-morning rather abruptly. He called me back, however, and +asked if I would not like to join him on a fishing tramp in the +morning. I said "I would, and I knew all the best places." + +Then we shook hands again, while the young ladies smiled like angels; +but I had not more than turned a bend in the road, which hid me from +view, than I heard such shrieks and screams of laughter as turned my +two ears into boiled lobsters for the remainder of the day. + +But, spite of my burning ears, I could not get mad at those girls. +They had a right to laugh at me, for I had, as usual, made myself +ridiculous. I was head over ears in love with Blue-Eyes. The feeling I +had once cherished toward Belle Marigold, compared with my sudden +adoration of this glorious stranger, was as bean-soup to the condensed +extract of beef, as water to wine, as milk to cream, as mush to +mince-pie. + +I do not think I slept a wink that night. My room was suffocating, and +I took a pillow, and crawled out on the roof of the kitchen, just +under my window, and stretched myself out on the shingles, and winked +back at the stars which winked at me, and thought of the bright, +flashing eyes of the bewitching unknown. I resolved to seek her +acquaintance, through her brother, and never, never to blunder again, +but to be calm and cool like other young men--calm, cool, and +persistent. It might have been four o'clock in the morning that I came +to this determination, and so soothing was it, that I was able to take +a brief nap after it. + +I was awakened by young Knickerbocker, the lady's brother, tickling +the soles of my feet with a rake, and I started up with such violence +from a sound sleep, that I slipped on the inclined plane, rolled down +to the edge, and went over into a hogshead of rain-water just +underneath. + +"A capital way to take your morning bath," smiled Knickerbocker. +"Come, Mr. Flutter, get out of that, and find your rod and line, and +come along. I have a good breakfast in this basket, which we will eat +in some dewy nook of the woods, while we are waiting for a nibble. The +early bird catches the worm, you know." + +"I'll be with you in a moment," I answered with a blank grin, +determined to be cool and composed, though my sudden plunge had +somewhat dazed me; and scrambling out of the primitive cistern, I +regained the roof by means of a ladder standing against a cherry-tree +not far away. + +Consoling myself with the idea that this early adventure was an +_accident_ and not a _blunder_, I hastily dressed, and rejoined my new +friend, with rod and line, and a box of flies. + +We had a delightful morning. Knickerbocker was affable. Alone in the +solitudes of nature with one of my own sex, I was tolerably at home, +and flattered myself that I appeared to considerable advantage, +especially as I really was a skillful angler, and landed two trout to +my friend's landing one. By ten o'clock we each had a lovely string of +the speckled beauties, and decided to go home for the day, returning +on the morrow. + +The path we took out of the woods came into the highway just in front +of the Widow Cooper's. I knew it, but I felt quite cool, and +determined to make some excuse to catch another glimpse of my +companion's sister. I had one splendid fish among my treasures, +weighing over two pounds, while none of his weighed over a pound. I +would present that trout to Flora Knickerbocker! I would ask her to +have the cook prepare it for her special delectation. + +We emerged upon the lawn and sauntered up to the front of the house, +where some half-dozen ladies were sitting on the long porch, doing +worsted-work and reading novels. I saw my charmer among them, and, as +she looked up from the book she was reading, and shot at me a +mischievous glance from those thrilling eyes, I felt my coolness +melting at the most alarming rate. + +How I envied the easy, careless grace with which my friend sauntered +up to the group! Why should I not be as graceful, as easy? I would +make a desperate effort to "assume a virtue if I had it not." I, too, +sauntered elegantly, lifted my hat killingly, and approached my +charmer just as if I didn't realize that I was turning all the colors +of the chameleon. + +"Miss Knickerbocker," I began, "will you deign to accept the champion +trout of the season?" + +The string of glistening fish hung from the fine patent rod which I +carried over my shoulder. I never could undo the tangle of how it all +came about; but, in my embarrassment, I must have handled things not +quite so gracefully as I intended--the line had become unwound, and +the hook dangling at the end of it as I attempted to lower the rod +caught in my coat collar behind, and the more I tugged the more it +would not come out. I flushed and jerked, and tried to see the back of +my head, while the ladies smiled encouragingly, rendering me more and +more desperate, until I gave a fearful twitch, and the barb came +flying out and across the porch, striking a prim maiden lady on the +head. + +More and more confused, I gave a sudden pull to relieve the lady, and +succeeded in getting a very queer bite indeed. At first I thought, in +my horror, that I had drawn the whole top of the unfortunate +spinster's head off; but a second frightened look showed me that it +was only her scalpette, or false front, or whatever the dear creatures +call a half-wig, all frizzes and crimps. Almost faint with dismay at +the glare of anger in the lady's eyes, and the view of the bald white +spot on top of her head, I hurriedly drew the thing toward me to +remove it from the hook, when a confounded little Spitz, seeing the +spot, and thinking, doubtless, I was playing with him, made a dash at +the wig, and in less time than it takes to tell it, that thing of +beauty was a wreck forever. Its unfortunate owner, with a look which +nearly annihilated me, fled up-stairs to her apartment. + +Nor was my discomfiture then ended. That Spitz--that precious +Spitz--belonged to Blue-Eyes; I tried to coax him to relinquish his +game; he would not be persuaded, and, in the ardor of his pursuit, he +swallowed the cruel hook. I had wanted to present her with a trout, +and had only succeeded in hooking her favorite pet--"her darling, her +dear, dear little Spitzy-witzy," as she called him, in tones of +mingled endearment and anguish, as she flew to rescue him from his +cruel fate. + +"Oh, what can I do?" she sobbed, looking up at her brother. + +"Cut him open and remove the hook," he answered gravely; "there is no +other possible way of relieving the poor fellow." + +"I wish _I_ had swallowed it," I murmured, bitterly, throwing my fish +into the grass of the lawn, and pulling at my mustache desperately in +my despair of ever doing as other people do. + +"I really wish you had," snapped Blue-Eyes, satirically, and with that +I walked off and left them to take Spitz from around that fish-hook +the best way they could. + +I don't imagine I left many female friends on that porch, nor did I +see any of the Widow Cooper's boarders again for a week, when we were +brought together, under rather peculiar circumstances at a circus. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +HE GOES TO THE CIRCUS. + + +In vain I struggled to regain the peace of mind I was beginning to +enjoy before I met Flora Knickerbocker. I could not forget her; I +dared not approach her--for I had heard a rumor that her dog had died +a _barb_-arous death, and his young mistress was inconsolable. I spent +the long, lazy summer days in dreaming of her, and wishing that +bashfulness were a curable disease. + +One morning, very early, when + + "The window slowly grew a glimmering square," + +I heard an unwonted commotion on our quiet road, and slipping out of +bed, I went to the window to see "what was up." It was a circus +company, with a menagerie attachment, winding through the dim dawn, +elephant and all. + +For a moment my heart beat, as in its childish days, at sight of the +unique cavalcade; but it soon grew sad, and ached worse than ever at +the reflection that Miss Flora was a city girl, and would despise a +circus. However, some time during the day I heard from aunt that +_all_ of Widow Cooper's boarders had made up their minds to attend, +that evening, the performance, which was to take place in a small town +two miles from us. These fine city folks doubtless thought it would be +an innocent "lark" to go to the circus in this obscure country +village. + +I had outgrown my childish taste for the hyena, the gnu, and the +anaconda; I was indifferent to the india-rubber man; nor did I care +much for the beautiful bare-back rider who was to flash through the +hoops like a meteor through the orbits of the planets; but I did long +to steal one more look, unseen, unsuspected, at the sweet face which +was lovelier to me, even in its anger, than any other. I had been the +means of Spitz's death--very well, I could hide myself in some obscure +corner of the amphitheater, and gaze at her mournfully from the +distance. While she gazed at the ring, I would gaze at _her_. + +So I went to the circus, along with a good many other people. _She_ +came early with the Cooper party, and seemed interested and amused by +the rough-board seats, and the novelty of the scene, and the audience. +I had not yet chosen my perch on the boards, for I wanted to get as +near to her as I could without her observing me. + +The sight of her--resolved as I was to be cool, calm, and +collected--so affected my eyesight that I walked right into the rope +stretched around the ring, and fell over into the tan-bark. + +All the boys hooted and laughed, and made personal remarks, wanting to +know if I were the clown, and similar questions, which I heard with +silent dignity. I hoped and prayed that _she_ had not recognized the +tumbler who had begun the performances as an amateur, and without any +salary from Barnum. They were on the opposite side of the circle, and +perhaps I escaped their remark. + +Contriving to mingle myself with some newcomers, I made my way more +cautiously to within a few feet of my charmer. I did not intend she +should see me, and was surprised when she whispered to her brother, +upon which he immediately looked in my direction and beckoned me to a +seat in their party. + +Oh, bliss! In another moment I was at her feet--sitting on the plank +next lower than that which held her lovely form, with the dainty +billows of lace and organdie rippling around me, and her little toes +pressed into the small of my back. Was this a common, vulgar +circus--with a menagerie attachment? To me it was the seventh heaven. +The clown leaped lightly into the ring, cracked his whip, and began +his witticisms. I heard him as one hears the murmur of the sea in his +dreams. The beautiful bare-back rider galloped, ran, jumped, smiled, +kissed her hand, and trotted off the stage with Master Clown at her +heels and the whole scene was to me only as a scene in a painting on +which my eye casually fell. The only living, breathing fact of which +I was really conscious was that those blue eyes were shining like +stars just over my head. + +In the pauses of the drama, the lemonade man went by. What was he to +me, or I to him? Noisy boys or verdant farming youths might patronize +him at their will--I slaked my thirst with deep draughts of a nectar +no lemonade-fellow could dispense at two cents a glass. While the +cannon-ball man was catching a ten-pound ball between his teeth, and +the boneless boy was tying himself in a double bow-knot, I was +pleasing myself with images of the darling little Spitz I would seek, +purchase, and present to Miss Flora in place of the one who had +thoughtlessly swallowed my fish-hook. + +"Were you ever in love, young man?" suddenly asked the clown, after +the india-rubber athlete had got tired of turning himself, like a +dozen flap-jacks on a hot griddle. + +The question startled me. I looked up. It seemed to me, as he eyed me, +that he had addressed it particularly to me. I blushed. Some strange +country girls on either side of me began to titter. I blushed more +decidedly. The motley chap in the ring must have seen it. He grinned +from ear to ear, walked up to the very edge of the rope, and repeated: + +"Were you ever in love, young man?" + +There were young men all round me; he might have looked at +Knickerbocker, or any one of a dozen others; if I had not been +supersensitive I never should have imagined that he meant to be +personal. + +If I had not retained the self-possession of an egotist, I should have +reflected that it was not the thing to notice the vulgar wit of a +circus-clown. Unfortunately self-possession is the last possession of +a bashful man. I half rose from my seat, demanding fiercely: + +"Are you speaking to me, sir?" + +"If the shoe fits, you can wear it," was the grinning answer; and then +there was a shout from the whole audience--hooting, laughter, clapping +of hands--and I felt that I had made a Dundreary of myself. + +"We beg parding," went on the rascal, stepping back and bowing. "We +had no intentions of being personal--meant no young gentleman in +partikilar. We _always_ make a point of asking a few questions in +general. Here comes mademoiselle, the celebrated tight-rope dancer," +etc., etc., and the thousand eyes which had been glued to my scarlet +face were diverted to a new attraction. + +"I'll thrash that scoundrel within an inch of his life," I said to +young Knickerbocker, who was sitting behind me beside his sister. + +"You will have to whip the whole circus, then; these fellows all stand +by each other. Your policy is to let the matter drop." + +"I'll whip the whole circus, then," I retorted, savagely. + +"Please don't," said a soft voice, and I wilted under it. + +"It maddens me to be always made ridiculous before _you_," I +whispered. "I'm a dreadfully unfortunate man, Miss Knick----" + +"_Fire_!" + +A frightful cry in such a place as that! Something flashed up +brightly--I saw flames about something in the ring--the crowd arose +from the benches--women screamed--men yelled. + +"Sit still, Flora!" I heard young Knickerbocker say, sternly. + +I thought of a million things in the thousandth part of a second--of +the flaming canvas, the deadly crush, the wild beasts, terrified and +breaking from their cages. It was folly, it was madness, to linger a +moment in hopes of the fire being subdued. I looked toward the +entrance--it was not far from us; a few people were going quickly out. +I was stronger than her brother; I could fight my way through any +crowd with that slight form held in one arm. + +"_Fire_!" + +I dallied with fate no longer. Grasping Flora by her slender waist, I +dragged her from her seat, and hurried her along through the +thickening throng. When she could no longer keep her feet. I supported +her entirely, elbowing, pushing, struggling with the maddest of them. +I reached the narrow exit--I fought my way through like a tiger. +Bleeding, exhausted, my hat gone, my coat torn from my back, I at last +emerged under the calm moonlight with my darling held to my panting +heart. Bearing her apart from the jostling crowd, I looked backward, +expecting to see the devouring flames stream high from the combustible +roof. As yet they had not broken through. I set my treasure gently +down on her little feet. Her bonnet was gone, her wealth of golden +hair hung disheveled about her pale face. + +"Are we safe?" she murmured. + +"Yes, thank Heaven, your precious life is saved!" + +"Oh! where is my brother?" + +"Here!" said a cold voice behind us, and young Knickerbocker coolly +took his sister on his own arm. "What in the name of folly did you +drag her off in that style for? A pretty-looking girl you are, Flora, +I must say!" + +"But the fire!" I gasped. + +"Was all out in less than a minute. A lamp exploded, but fortunately +set fire to nothing else. I never saw anything more utterly ridiculous +than you dragging my sister off through that crowd, and me sitting +still and laughing at you. I don't know whether to look on you as a +hero or a fool, Mr. Flutter." + +"Look on me as a blunderer," I said meekly. + +But the revulsion of feeling was too great; I felt myself turning sick +and faint, and when I knew anything again I was home in bed. And now I +owe Miss Flora a new bonnet as well as a little dog. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A LEAP FOR LIFE. + + +It is impossible to make an ordinary person understand the chaos of +mingled feelings with which I heard, two days after the circus +performance in which I had so large a share, that Blue-Eyes and +Company had departed for a tour of the watering-places--feelings of +anguish and relief mixed in about equal proportions. I madly loved +her, but I had known from the first that my love was hopeless, and the +thought of meeting her, after having made myself so ridiculous, was +torture. Therefore I felt relief that I was no longer in danger of +encountering the mocking laughter of those blue eyes, but I lost my +appetite. I moped, pined, grew pale, freckled, and listless. + +"What's the use of wasting harvest apples making dumplings, when you +don't eat none, John?" asked my aunt, one day at dinner, after the +hands had left the table. + +"Aunt," replied I, solemnly, "don't mock me with apple dumplings; they +may be light, but my heart is heavy." + +"La, John, try a little east on your heart," said she, laughing--by +"east" she meant yeast, I suppose. + +"No, aunt, not 'east,' but west. My mind is made up. I'm going out to +Colorado to fight the Indians." + +She let the two-tined steel fork drop out of her hand. + +"What will your ma say to that?" she gasped. + +"I tell you I am going," was my firm reply, and I went. + +Yes, I had long sighed to be a Juan Fernandez, or a Mount Washington +weatherologist, or something lonesome and sad, as my readers know. +Fighting Indians would be a terrible risky business; but compared to +facing the "girls of the period" it would be the merest play. I was +weary of a life that was all mistakes. "Better throw it away," I +thought, bitterly, "and give my scalp to dangle at a redskin's belt, +than make another one of my characteristic and preposterous blunders." + +I had heard that Buffalo Bill was about to start for the Rocky +Mountains, and I wrote to New York asking permission to join him. He +answered that I could, if I was prepared to pay my own way. I +immediately bade my relatives farewell, went home, borrowed two +hundred dollars of father, told mother she was the only woman I wasn't +afraid of, kissed her good-bye, and met Buffalo Bill at the next large +town by appointment, he being already on his way West. I came home +_after dark_, and left again _before daylight_, and that was the last +I saw of my native village for some time. + +"You don't let on yer much of a fighter?" asked the great scout, as he +saw me hunt all over six pockets and blush like a girl when the +conductor came for our tickets, and finally hand him a postal-card +instead of the bit of pasteboard he was impatiently waiting to punch. + +"Oh, I guess I'll fight like a rat when it comes to that," I answered. +"I'm brave as a lion--only I'm bashful." + +"Great tomahawks! is that yer disease?" groaned Bill. + +"Yes, that's my trouble," I said, quite confidentially, for somehow I +seemed to get on with the brave hunter more easily than with the +starched minions of society. "I'm bashful, and I'm tired of civilized +life. I'm always putting my foot in it when I'm trying the hardest to +keep it out. Besides, I'm in love, and the girl I want don't want me. +It's either deliberate suicide or death on the plains with me." + +"Precisely. I understand. _I've been thar!_" said Buffalo Bill; and we +got along well together from the first. + +He encouraged the idea that in my present state of mind I would make a +magnificent addition to his chosen band; but I have since had some +reason to believe that he was leading me on for the sole purpose of +making a scarecrow of me--setting me up in some spot frequented by +the redskins, to become their target, while he and his comrades +scooped down from some ambush and wiped out a score or two of them +after I had perished at my post. I _suspect_ this was his plan. He +probably considered that so stupid a blunderer as I deserved no better +fate than to be used as a decoy. I think so myself. I have nothing +like the extravagant opinion of my own merits that I had when I first +launched out into the sea of human conflict. + +At all events, Buffalo Bill was very kind to me all the way out to the +plains; he protected me as if I had been a timid young lady--took +charge of my tickets, escorted me to and fro from the station +eating-houses, almost cut up my food and eating it for me; and if a +woman did but glance in my direction, he scowled ferociously. Under +such patronage I got through without any accident. + +It was the last day of our ride by rail. In the car which we helped to +occupy there was not a single female, and I was happy. A sense of +repose--of safety--stole over me, which even the knowledge that on the +morrow we were to take the war-path could not overcome. + +"Oh," sighed I, "no women! This _is_ bliss!" + +In about five minutes after I had made this remark the train drew up +at one of those little stations that mark off the road, and the scout +got off a minute to see a man. Fatal minute! In that brief sixty +seconds of time a female made her appearance in the car door, looked +all along the line, and, either because the seat beside me was the +only vacant one, or because she liked my looks, she came, and, without +so much as "by your leave," plumped down by me. + +"This seat is engaged," I mildly remonstrated, growing as usual very +red. + +She looked around at me, saw me blush, and began to titter. + +"No, young man," said she, "I ain't engaged, but I told ma I bet I +would be before I got to Californy." + +By this time my protector had returned; but, seeing a woman, and a +young woman at that, in his seat, he coolly ignored my imploring looks +and passed out into the next car. + +"I'm going on the platform to smoke," he whispered. + +"Be _you_ engaged?" continued my new companion. + +"No, miss," I stammered. + +"Ain't that lucky?" she giggled. "Who knows but what we may make up +our minds to hitch horses afore we get to Californy!" and she eyed me +all over without a bit of bashfulness, and seemed to admire me. My +goodness! this was worse than Alvira Slimmens! + +"But I'm only going a few hours farther, and I'm not a marrying man, +and I'm bound for the Indian country," I murmured. + +She remained silent a few moments, and I stole a side-glance at her. +She was a sharp-looking girl; her hair was cut short, and in the +morocco belt about her waist I saw the glitter of a small revolver. +Before I had finished these observations she turned suddenly toward +me, and her black eyes rested fully on me as she asked: + +"Stranger, do you believe in love at first sight?" + +"No--no, indeed, miss; not for worlds!" I murmured, startled. + +"Well, I _do_," said she; "and mebbe you will, yet." + +"I--I don't believe in anything of the kind," I reiterated, getting as +far as possible into my corner of the seat. + +"La! you needn't be bashful," she went on, laughing; "I ain't a-going +to scourge you. Thar's room enough for both of us." + +She subsided again, and again broke out: + +"Bound for the Injun country, are you? So'm I. Whar do you get off?" + +"I thought you said you were going to California?" I remarked, more +and more alarmed. + +Then that girl with the revolver winked at me slyly. + +"I _am_ going there--in the course of time; but I'm going by easy +stages. I ain't in no hurry. I told ma I'd be married by the time I +got there, and I mean to keep my word I may be six months going, yer +see." + +Another silence, during which I mutely wondered how long it would take +Buffalo Bill to smoke his pipe. + +"Don't believe in love at first sight! Sho!" resumed my companion. +"You ain't got much spunk, you ain't! Why, last week a girl and a +fellow got acquainted in this very car--this very seat, for all I +know--and afore they reached Lone Tree Station they was _engaged_. +There happened to be a clergyman going out to San Francisco on the +train, and he married 'em afore sunset, he did. When I heerd of that, +I said to myself, 'Sally Spitfire, why don't _you_ fix up and travel, +too? Who knows what may happen?'" + +Unmerciful fates! had I fled from civilization only to fall a prey to +a female like this? It looked like it. There wasn't much fooling about +this damsel's love-making. Cold chills ran down my spine. My eye +avoided hers; I bit my nails and looked out of the window. + +"Ain't much of a talker, are ye?" she ran on. "That just suits me. My +tongue is long enough for both of us. I always told ma I wouldn't +marry a great talker--there'd be one too many in the house." + +I groaned in anguish of spirit; I longed to see a thousand wild and +painted warriors swoop down upon the train. I thought of our peaceful +dry-goods store at home, and I would gladly have sat down in another +butter-tub could I have been there. I even thought of earthquakes +with a sudden longing; but we were not near enough the Western shore +to hope for anything so good as an earthquake. + +"I do wonder if thar's a clergyman on _this_ train," remarked the +young lady, reflectively. + +"Supposing there is," I burst out, in desperation, "does any one need +his services? Is anybody going to die?" + +"Not as I know of," was the meaning reply, while Miss Spitfire looked +at me firmly, placing her hand on her revolver as she spoke; "not if +people behave as they ought--like gentlemen--and don't go trifling +with an unprotected girl's affections in a railroad car." + +"Who--who--who's been doing so?" I stammered. + +"_You_ have, and I hold you accountable. You've got to marry me. I've +made up my mind. And when Sally Spitfire makes up her mind, she means +it. To refuse my hand is to insult me, and no man shall insult me with +safety. No, sir! not so long as I carry a Colt's revolver. I took a +fancy to you, young man, the minute my eyes rested on you. I froze to +you to oncst. I calculate to marry you right off. Will you inquire +around for a clergyman? or shall I do it myself?" + +"I will go," I said, quickly. + +"P'raps I'd better go 'long," she said, suspiciously, and as I arose +she followed suit, and we walked down the car together, she twice +asking in a loud voice if there was a minister on board. + +"One in the next car," at last spoke a fellow, looking at us with a +broad grin. + +We stepped out on the platform to enter the next car--now was my +time--now or never! I looked at the ground--it was tolerably level and +covered with grass; the train was running at moderate speed; there was +but one way to escape my tormentor. Making my calculations as +accurately as possible, I suddenly leaped from the steps of the car; +my head and feet seemed driven into one another; I rolled over and +over--thought I was dead, was surprised to find I was not dead, picked +myself up, shook myself. + +"Ha! ha! ha!" I laughed hysterically; "I'm out of that scrape, +anyway!" + +"Oh, are you?" said a voice behind me. + +I whirled about. As true as I'm writing this, there stood that girl! +Her hat was knocked off, her nose was bleeding, but she was smiling +right in my face. + +I cast a look of anguish at the retreating train. No one had noticed +our mad leap; and the cars were gliding smoothly away--away--leaving +me alone on the wide plains with that determined female! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +ONE OF THE FAIR SEX COMES TO HIS RESCUE. + + +Before I comprehended that the indomitable female stood beside me, the +train was puffing pitilessly away. + +"Oh, stop! stop! stop! stop!" I called and yelled in an agony of +apprehension; but I might as well have appealed to the wind that went +whistling by. + +"Perhaps the locomotive will hear you, and down brakes of its own +accord," said Miss Spitfire, scornfully. "I told ma I was gwine to get +a husband 'fore I got to Californy, an' I _have_ got one. You jest set +down on that bowlder, an' don't you try to make a move till the train +from 'Frisco comes along. Then you git aboard along with me, an' if +there ain't no minister to be found in them cars, I'll haul you off at +Columbus, where there's two to my certain knowledge." + +She had her revolver in her hand, directed _point blank_ at my +quivering, quaking heart. Though I am bashful, I am no coward, and I +thought for full two minutes that I'd let her fire away, if such was +her intention. + +"Better be dead than live in a land so full of women that I can never +hope for any comfort!" I thought, bitterly; and so confronted the +enemy in the growing calmness of despair. + +"Ain't you a-going fur to set down on that bowlder?" + +"No, madam, I am _not_! I would rather be shot than married, at any +time. Why! I was going to fight the Indians with Buffalo Bill, on +purpose to get rid of the girls." + +Sally looked at me curiously; her outstretched arm settled a little +until the revolver pointed at my knee instead of my heart. + +"P'raps you've been disappointed in love?" she queried. + +"Not that entirely," I answered, honestly. + +"P'raps you've run away from a breach of promise?" + +"Oh, no! no, indeed!" + +"What on airth do you want to get rid o' the girls fur, then?" + +"Miss Spitfire," said I, scraping the gravel with the toe of my boot, +"I'm afraid of them. I'm bashful." + +"BASHFUL!" Miss Spitfire cried, and then she began to laugh. + +She laughed and laughed until I believed and hoped she would laugh +herself into pieces. The idea struck this creature in so ludicrous a +light that she nearly went into convulsions. _She_, alas, had never +been troubled by such a weakness. I watched my opportunity, when she +was doubled up with mirth, to snatch the revolver from her hand. + +The tables were now turned, but not for long. She sprang at me like a +wildcat; I defended myself as well as I could without really hurting +her, maintaining my hold on the revolver, but not attempting to use it +on my scratching, clawing antagonist. The station-master came out of +Lone Tree station, a mile away, and walked up the track to see what +was going on. Of course he had no notion of what it was, but it amused +him to see the fight, and he kept cheering and urging on Miss Sally, +probably with the idea that she was my wife and we were indulging in a +domestic squabble. At the same time it chanced that a boat load of six +or eight of the roughest fellows it had ever been my lot to meet, and +all with their belts stuck full of knives and revolvers, came rowing +across the river, not far away, and landed just in time to "see the +fun." When Miss Spitfire saw these ruffians she ceased clawing and +biting me, and appealed to them. + +I was dumbfounded by the falsehood ready on her lips. + +"Will you, _gentlemen_," said she, "stand by and see a young lady +deserted by this sneak?" + +"What's up?" asked a brawny fellow, seven feet high, glaring at me as +if he thought I had committed seventeen murders. + +"I'll tell you," responded Spitfire, panting for breath. "We was +engaged to be married, we was, all fair an' square. He pretended to +be goin' through the train to look fur a minister fur to tie the knot, +an' just sneaked off the train, when it stopped yere; but I see him in +time, an' I jumped off, too, an' I nabbed him." + +"Shall we hang the little skunk up to yonder tree? or shall we set him +up fur a target an' practice firing at a mark fur about five minutes? +Will do whatever you say, young lady. We're a rough set; but we don't +lay out to see no wimmen treated scurvy." + +I'm no coward, as I said, but I dare say my face was not very smiling +as I met the flashing eyes and saw the scowling brows of those giant +ruffians, whose hands were already drawing the bowie-knives and +pistols from their belts. But I steadied my voice and spoke up: + +"Boys," said I, very friendly, "what's the use of a pair hitching +together who do not like each other, and who will always be uneasy in +harness? If I married her, she would be sorry. Come, let us go up to +the station and have something to drink. Choose your own refreshments, +and don't be backward." + +There was a good deal of growling and muttering; but the temptation +was irresistible. The result was that in half an hour not a drop of +liquor remained to the poor fellow who kept the station--that I paid +up the score "like a man," as my drunken companions assured me, who +now clapped me familiarly on the shoulder, and called me "Little +Grit," as a pet name--that Miss Spitfire, minus her revolver, sat +biting her nails about two rods away--and that she waited anxiously +for the expected arrival of the 'Frisco train, bound eastward. + +"Come, now, Little Grit," said the leader of the band, when the whisky +had all disappeared, "you was gwine with Buffalo Bill; better come +along with me--I'm a better fellow, an' hev killed more Injuns than +ever Bill did. We're arter them pesky redskins now. A lot of 'em +crossed the stream a couple o' nights ago, and stole our best horses. +We're bound to hev 'em back. Some o' them red thieves will miss their +skalps afore to-morrow night. A feller as kin fight a woman is jist +the chap for us. You come along; we'll show you how to tree your first +Injun." + +The long and the short of it was I had to go. I did not want to. I +thought of my mother, of Belle, of Blue-Eyes, and I hung back. But I +was taken along. These giants, with their bristling belts, did not +understand a person who said "no" to them. And as the secondary effect +of the liquor was to make them quarrelsome, I had to pretend that I +liked the expedition. + +Not to weary the reader, we tracked the marauders, and came across +them at earliest dawn the following morning, cooking their dog-stew +under the shelter of a high bluff, with the stolen horses picketed +near, in a cluster of young cottonwoods. + +I have no talent for depicting skirmishes with the redskins; I leave +all that to Buffalo Bill. I will here simply explain that the Indians +were surprised, but savage; that the whites were resolved to get back +their horses, and that they did get them, and rode off victorious, +leaving six dead and nine wounded red warriors on the battle-ground, +with only one mishap to their own numbers. + +The mishap was a trifling one to the border ruffians. It was not so +trifling to me. + +It consisted of their leaving me a prisoner in the hands of the +Indians. + +I was bound to a tree, while the wretches jabbered around me, as to +what they should do for me. Then, while I was reflecting whether I +would not prefer marriage with Miss Spitfire to this horrible +predicament, they drove a stake into the ground, untied me, led me to +the stake, re-tied me to that, and piled branches of dry cottonwood +about me up to my neck. + +Then one of them ran, howling, to bring a brand from the fire under +the upset breakfast pot. + +I raised my eyes to the bright sun, which had risen over the plain, +and was smiling at my despair. The hideous wretch came running with +the fire-brand. The braves leaped, danced, and whooped. + +I closed my eyes. Then a sharp, shrill yell pierced the air, and in +another moment something touched my neck. It was not the scorching +flames I dreaded. I opened my eyes. A hideous face, copper-colored, +distorted by a loving grin, was close to mine; a pair of arms were +about my neck--a pair of woman's arms! They were those of a ferocious +and ugly squaw, old enough to be my mother. The warrior with the +fire-brand was replacing it, with a disappointed expression, under the +stewed dog. _I was saved!_ + +All in a flash I comprehended the truth. Here was I, John Flutter, +enacting the historical part of the John Smith, of Virginia, who was +rescued by the lovely Pocahontas. + +This hideous creature smirking in my face was my Pocahontas. It was +not leap-year, but she had chosen me for her brave. The charms of +civilized life could no longer trouble me. She would lovingly paint my +face, hang the wampum about my waist, and lead me to her wigwam in the +wilderness, where she would faithfully grind my corn and fricassee my +puppy. It was for _this_ I had escaped Sally Spitfire--for _this_ that +my unhappy bashfulness had driven me far from home and friends. + +She unfastened the rope from the stake, and led me proudly away. My +very soul blushed with shame. Oh, fatal, fatal blunder! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT. + + +That was a long day for me. I could not eat the dog-bone which my +Pocahontas handed me, having drawn it from the kettle with her own +sweet fingers. We traveled all day; having lost their stolen horses as +well as their own ponies, the savages had to foot it back to their +tribe. I could see that they got as far away from the railroad and +from traces of white men as possible. + +It began to grow dark, and we were still plodding along. I was +foot-sore, discouraged, and woe-begone. All the former trials of my +life, which had seemed at the time so hard to bear, now appeared like +the merest trifles. + +Ah, if I were only home again! How gladly would I sit down in +butter-tubs, and spill hot tea into my lap! How joyfully would I walk +up the church aisles, with my ears burning, and sit down on my new +beaver in father's pew of a Sunday. How sweet would be the suppressed +giggle of the saucy girls behind me! How easily, how almost +audaciously, would I ask Miss Miller if I might see her home! What an +active part I would take in debating societies! Vain dream! My +hideous Pocahontas marched stolidly on, dragging me like a frightened +calf, at the rope's end. My throat was dry as ashes. I guess the +redskins suffered for want of water, too. We came to a little brackish +stream after sunset, and here they camped. They had taken from me Miss +Spitfire's revolver, or I should have shot myself. + +The squaws made some suppawn in a big kettle, and my squaw brought me +some in a dirty wooden bowl. I was too homesick to eat, and this +troubled her. She tried to coax me, with atrocious grins and nods, to +eat the smoking suppawn. I couldn't, and she looked unhappy. + +Then something happened--something hit the bowl and sent the hot mush +flying into my beauty's face, and spattering over me. At the same +instant about twenty Indians were hit, also, and went tumbling over, +with their mouths full of supper. There were yells, and jumps, and a +general row. I jerked away from Pocahontas and ran as fast as my tired +legs would carry me. I went toward the attacking party. It might be of +Indians too, but I didn't care. I was afraid of Pocahontas--more +afraid of her than of any braves in the world. But these invaders +proved to be white men; a large party of miners going toward Pike's +Peak, by wagon instead of by the new railroad. + +I threw myself on their protection. They had routed out the savages, +and now took possession of their camping-ground. I passed a peaceful +night; except that my dreams were disturbed by visions of Pocahontas. +In the morning my new friends proposed that I should join their party, +and try my luck in the mining regions; they were positive that each +would find more gold than he knew what to do with. + +"Then you can go home and marry some pretty girl, my boy," said one +friendly fellow, slapping me on the shoulder. + +"Never," I murmured. "I have no object in life, save one." + +"And what is that, my young friend?" + +"To go where there never has been nor never will be a woman." + +"Good! the mines will be just the place then. None of the fair sex +there, my boy. You can enjoy the privilege of doing up your own linen +to the fullest extent. You won't have anybody to iron your collars +there, you bet." + +"Lead on--I follow!" I cried, almost like an actor on the stage. + +I felt exhilarated--a wild, joyous sense of freedom. My two recent +narrow escapes added to the pleasure with which I viewed my present +prospects. This was better than sailing for some Juan Fernandez, or +being clerk of the weather on Mount Washington. Ho! for Pike's Peak. +In those high solitudes, while heaping up the yellow gold which should +purchase all the luxuries of life for the woman whom _sometime_ I +should choose, I could, at the same time, be gradually overcoming my +one weakness. When I did see fit to return to my native village, no +man should be so calm, so cool, so self-possessed as John Flutter, +Jr., mine-owner, late of the Rocky Mountains. I felt very bold over +the prospect. I was not a bit bashful just then. I joined the +adventurers, paying them in money for my seat in their wagons, and my +place at their camp-table. In due time we reached the scene of action. +I would not go into any of the canvas villages which had sprung up +like mushrooms. There might be a woman in some one of these places. I +went directly into the hills, where I bought out a sick man's claim, +and went to work. I blistered my white hands, but I didn't mind that +much--there were no blue eyes to notice the disfigurement. + +I had been at work six days. I was a good young man, and I would not +dig on Sunday, as some of the fellows did. I sat in the door of my +little hut, and read an old newspaper, and thought of those far-away +days when I used to be afraid of the girls. How glad I felt that I was +outgrowing that folly. A shadow fell across my paper, and I glanced +up. Thunder out of a clear sky could not so have astonished me. There +stood a young lady, smiling at me! None of those rough Western pioneer +girls, either, but a pale, delicate, beautiful young lady, about +eighteen, with cheeks like wild roses, so faintly, softly flushed +with the fatigue of climbing, and great starry hazel eyes, and dressed +in a fashionable traveling suit, made up in the latest style. + +"Pardon me, sir, for startling you so," she said, pleasantly. "Can you +give me a drink of water? I have been climbing until I am thirsty. +Papa is not far behind, around the rock there. I out-climbed him, you +see--as I told him I could!" and she laughed like an angel. + +Yes! it was splendid to find how I had improved! I jumped to my feet +and made a low bow. I wasn't red in the face--I wasn't confused--I +didn't stammer; I felt as cool as I do this moment, as I answered her +courteously: + +"Cer-cer-certainly, madam--miss, I mean--you shall have a spring fresh +from me--a drink, I mean--we've a nice, cold spring in the rocks just +behind the cabin; I'll get you one in a second." + +"No such _great_ hurry, sir"--another smile. + +I dashed inside and brought a tin cup--my only goblet--hurried to the +spring, and brought her the sparkling draught, saying, as I handed it +to her: + +"You must excuse the din tipper, miss." + +She took it politely! and began to quaff, but from some reason she +choked and choked, and finally shook so, that she spilled the water +all over the front breadth of her gray-check silk. She was laughing at +my "din tipper," just as if the calmest people did not sometimes get +the first letters of their words mixed up. + +While she giggled and pretended to cough the old gentleman came in +sight, puffing and blowing like a porpoise, and looking very warm. He +told me he was "doing the mountains" for his daughter's health, and +that they were going on to California to spend the winter; ending by +stating that he was thirsty too, and so fatigued with his climb that +he would be obliged to me if I would add a stick in his, if I had it. +Now I kept a little whisky for medicine, and I was only too anxious to +oblige the girl's father, so I darted into the cabin again and brought +out one of the two bottles which I owned--two bottles, just alike, one +containing whisky, the other kerosene. In my confusion I--well, I was +very hospitable, and I added as much kerosene as there was water; and +when he had taken three large swallows, he began to spit and splutter; +then to groan; then to double up on the hard rock in awful +convulsions. I smelled the kerosene, and I felt that I had murdered +him. It had come to this at last! My bashfulness was to do worse than +urge me to suicide--it was to be the means of my causing the death of +an estimable old gentleman--her father! She began to cry and wring her +hands. As yet she did not suspect me! She supposed her father had +fallen in a fit of apoplexy. + +"If he dies, I will allow her always to think so," I resolved. + +My eyes stuck out of my head with terror at what I had done. I was +rooted to the ground. But only for a moment. Remorse, for once, made +me self-possessed. I remembered that I had salt in the cabin. I got +some, mixed it with water, and poured it down his throat. It had the +desired effect, soon relieving him of the poisonous dose he had +swallowed. + +"Ah! you have saved my papa's life!" cried the young lady, pressing my +trembling hand. + +"Saved it!" growled old Cresus, as he sat up and glared about. "Let +him alone, Imogen! He tried to poison and murder me, so as to rob me +after I was dead, and keep you prisoner, my pet. The scoundrel!" + +"It was all a mistake--a wretched mistake!" I murmured. + +He wouldn't believe me; but he was too ill to get up, as he wanted. I +tried to make him more comfortable by assisting him to a seat on my +keg of blasting powder. + +As he began to revive a little, he drew a cigar from his pocket, and +asked me if I had a match. I had none; but there was a small fire +under my frying-pan, and I brought him a coal on a chip. Miss Imogen, +when she saw the coal on the chip, began to laugh again. That +embarrassed me. My nerves were already unstrung, and my trembling +fingers unfortunately spilled the burning ember just as the old +gentleman was about to stoop over it with his cigar. It fell between +his knees, onto the head of the keg, rolled over, and dropped plumb +through the bung-hole onto the giant-powder inside. + +This cured me of my bashfulness for some time, as it was over a week +before I came to my senses. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW. + + +I came to my senses in one of the bedrooms of the Shantytown Hotel. +There was only a partition between that and the other bedrooms of +brown cotton cloth, and as I slowly became conscious of things about +me, I heard two voices beyond the next curtain talking of my affairs. + +"I reckon he won't know where the time's gone to when he comes to +himself ag'in. Lucky for him he didn't go up, like the old gentleman, +in such small pieces as to never come down. I don't see, fur the life +of me, what purvented. He was standin' right over the kag on which the +old chap sot. Marakalous escape, that of the young lady. Beats +everything." + +"You bet, pardner, 'twouldn't happen so once in a thousand times. You +see, she was jist blowed over the ledge an' rolled down twenty or +thirty feet, an' brought up on a soft spot--wa'n't hurt a particle. +But how she does take on about her pop! S'pose you knew her brother's +come on fur her?" + +"No." + +"Yes; got here by the noon stage. They're reckoning to leave +Shantytown immegitly. Less go down and see 'em off!" + +They shuffled away. + +I don't know whether my head ached, but I know my heart did. I was a +murderer. Or, if not quite so bad as a deliberate murderer, I was, at +the very least, guilty of manslaughter. And why? Because I had not +been able to overcome my wicked weakness. I felt sick of life, of +everything--especially of the mines. + +"I can never return to the scene of the accident," I thought. + +I groaned and tossed, but it was the torture of my conscience, and not +of my aching limbs. The doctor and others came in. + +"How long shall I have to lie here?" I asked. + +"Not many days; no bones are broken. Your head is injured and you are +badly bruised, that's all. You must keep quiet--you must not excite +yourself." + +Excite myself! As if I could, for one moment, forget the respectable +old capitalist whom I had first poisoned and then blown into ten +thousand pieces through my folly. I had brain fever. It set in that +night. For two weeks I raved deliriously; for two weeks I was doing +the things I ought not to have done--in imagination. I took a young +lady skating, and slipped down with her on the ice, and broke her +Grecian nose. I went to a grand reception, and tore the point lace +flounce off of Mrs. Grant's train, put my handkerchief in my saucer, +and my coffee-cup in my pocket. I was left to entertain a handsome +young lady, and all I could say was to cough and "Hem! hem!" until at +last she asked me if I had any particular article I would like hemmed. + +I killed a baby by sitting down on it in a fit of embarrassment, when +asked by a neighbor to take a seat. I waltzed and waltzed and waltzed +with Blue-Eyes, and every time I turned I stepped on her toes with my +heavy boots, until they must have been jelly in her little satin +slippers, and finally we fell down-stairs, and I went out of that +fevered dream only to find myself again giving blazing kerosene to an +estimable old gentleman, who swallowed it unsuspiciously, and then sat +down on a powder keg, and we all blew up--up--up--and came +down--down--bump! I never want to have brain fever again--at least, +not until I have conquered myself. + +When I was once more rational, I resolved that a miner's life was too +rough for me; and, as soon as I could be bolstered up in a corner of +the coach, I set out to reach the railroad, where I was to take a +palace-car for home. I gained strength rapidly during the change and +excitement of the journey; so that, the day before we were to reach +Chicago, I no longer remained prone in my berth, but, "clothed and in +my right mind," took my seat with the other passengers, looked about +and tried to forget the past and to enjoy myself. At first, I had a +seat to myself; but, at one of the stations, about two in the +afternoon, a lady, dressed in deep black, and wearing a heavy crepe +veil, which concealed her face, entered our car, and slipped quietly +in to the vacant half of my seat. She sat quite motionless, with her +veil down. Every few moments a long, tremulous, heart-broken sigh +stirred this sable curtain which shut in my companion's face. I felt a +deep sympathy for her, whoever she might be, old or young, pretty or +ugly. I inferred that she was a widow; I could hear that she was in +affliction; but I was far too diffident to invent any little courteous +way of expressing my sympathy. In about half an hour, she put her veil +to one side, and asked me, in a low, sweet, pathetic voice, if I had +any objection to drawing down the blind, as her veil smothered her, +and she had wept so much that her eyes could not bear the strong light +of the afternoon sun. I drew down the blind--with such haste as to +pinch my fingers cruelly between the sash and the sill. + +"Oh, I am _so_ sorry!" said she. + +"It's of no consequence," I stammered, making a Toots of myself. + +"Oh, but _it is_! and in my service too! Let me be your surgeon, sir," +and she took from her traveling-bag a small bottle of cologne, with +which she drenched a delicate film of black-bordered handkerchief, +and then wound the same around my aching fingers. "You are pale," she +continued, slightly pressing my hand before releasing it--"ah, how +sorry I am!" + +"I am pale because I have been ill recently," I responded, conscious +that all my becoming pallor was changing to turkey-red. + +"Ill?--oh, how sad! What a world of trouble we live in! Ill?--and so +young--so hand----. Excuse me, I meant not to flatter you, but I have +seen so much sorrow myself. I am only twenty-two, and I've been a +wid--wid--wid--ow over a year." + +She wiped away a tear with handkerchief No. 2, and smiled sadly in my +face. + +"Sorrow has aged her," I thought, for, although the blind was down, +she looked to me nearer thirty than twenty-two. + +Still, she was pretty, with dark eyes that looked into yours in a +wonderfully confiding way--melting, liquid, deep eyes, that even a man +who is perfectly self-possessed can not see to the bottom of soon +enough for his own good. As for me, those eyes confused while they +pleased me. The widow never noticed my embarrassment; but, the ice +once broken, talked on and on. She gave me, in soft, sweet, broken +accents, her history--how she had been her mother's only pet, and had +married a rich Chicago broker, who had died in less than two years, +leaving her alone--all alone--with plenty of money, plenty of +jewelry, a fine house, but alas, "no one to love her, none to caress," +as the song says, and the world a desert. + +"But I can still love _a friend_," she added, with a melancholy smile. +"One as disinterested, as ignorant of the world as you, would please +me best. You must stop in Chicago," she said, giving me her card +before we parted. "Every traveler should spend a few days in our +wonderful city. Call on me, and I will have up my carriage and take +you out to see the sights." + +Need I say that I stopped in Chicago? or add that I went to call on +the fair widow? She took me out driving according to promise. I found +that she was just the style of woman that suited me best. I was +bashful; she was not. I was silent; she could keep up the conversation +with very little aid from me. With such a woman as that I could get +along in life. She would always be willing to take the lead. All I +would have to do would be to give her the reins, and she would keep +the team going. She would be willing to walk the first into church--to +interview the butcher and baker--to stand between me and the world. A +wife like that would be some comfort to a bashful man. Besides, she +was rich! Had she not said it? I have seldom had a happier hour than +that of our swift, exhilarating drive. The colored driver, gorgeous in +his handsome livery, kept his eyes and ears to himself. I lolled back +in the luxurious carriage beside my charmer. I forgot the unhappy +accident of the blasting-powder--all the mortifications and +disappointments of my life. I reveled in bliss. For once, I had +nothing to do but be courted. How often had I envied the girls their +privilege of keeping quiet and being made love to. How often had I +sighed to be one of the sex who is popped to and does not have to pop. +And now, this lovely, brilliant creature who sat beside me, having +been once married, and seeing my natural timidity, "knew how it was +herself," and took on her own fair hands all the responsibility. + +"Mr. Flutter," said she, "I know just how you feel--you want to ask me +to marry you, but you are too bashful. Have I guessed right?" + +I pressed her hand in speechless assent. + +"Yes, my dear boy, I knew it. Well, this is leap-year, and I will not +see you sacrificed to your own timidity. I am yours, whenever you +wish--to-morrow if you say so--yours forever. You shall have no +trouble about it, I will speak to the Rev. Mr. Coalyard myself--I know +him. When shall it be?--speak, dearest!" + +I gasped out "to-morrow," and buried my blushing face on her shoulder. + +For a moment her soft arms were twined around me--a moment only, for +we were on the open lake drive. Not more than ten seconds did the +pretty widow embrace me, but that was time enough, as I learned to my +sorrow, for her to extract my pocket-book, containing the five hundred +dollars I still had remaining from the sale of my mining-stock, and +not one dollar of which did I ever see again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE. + + +I had to pawn my watch to get away from Chicago, for the police failed +to find my pretty widow. The thought of getting again under my mother's +wing was as welcome as my desire to get away from it had been eager. At +night my dreams were haunted by all sorts of horrible fire-works, where +old gentlemen sat down on powder-kegs, etc. Oh, for home! I knew there +were no widows in my native village, except Widow Green, and I was not +afraid of her. Well, I took the cars once more, and I had been riding +two days and a night, and was not over forty miles from my destination, +when the little incident occurred which proved to lead me into one of +the worst blunders of all. It's _awful_ to be a bashful young man! +Everybody takes advantage of you. You are the victim of practical +jokes--folks laugh if you do nothing on earth but enter a room. If you +happen to hit your foot against a stool, or trip over a rug, or call a +lady "sir," the girls giggle and the boys nudge each other, as if it +were extremely amusing. But to blow up a confiding Wall street +speculator, and to be swindled out of all your money by a pretty widow, +is enough to make a sensitive man a raving lunatic. I had all this to +think of as I was whirled along toward home. So absorbed was I in +melancholy reflection, that I did not notice what was going on until a +sudden shrill squawk close in my ear caused me to turn, when I found +that a very common-looking young woman, with a by no means interesting +infant of six months, had taken the vacant half of my seat. I was +annoyed. There were plenty of unoccupied seats in the car, and I saw no +reason why she should intrude upon my comfort. The infant shrieked +wildly when I looked at it; but its mother stopped its mouth with one of +those what-do-you-call-'ems that are stuck on the end of a flat bottle +containing sweetened milk, and, after sputtering and gurgling in a vain +attempt to keep on squalling, it subsided and went vigorously to work. +It seemed after a time to become more accustomed to my harmless visage, +and stared at me stolidly, with round, unwinking eyes, after it had +exhausted the contents of the bottle. + +In about half an hour the train stopped at a certain station; the +conductor yelled out "ten minutes for refreshments," the eating-house +man rang a big bell, and the passengers, many of them, hurried out. +Then the freckle-faced woman leaned toward me. + +"Are you goin' out?" said she. + +"No," I replied, politely; "I am not far from home, and prefer waiting +for my lunch until I get there." + +[Illustration: "WOULD YOU HOLD MY BABY WHILE I RUN IN AN' GET A CUP O' +TEA?"] + +"Then," said she, very earnestly, "would you hold my baby while I run +in an' get a cup o' tea? Indeed, sir, I'm half famished, riding over +twenty-four hours, and only a biscuit or two in my bag, and I must get +some milk for baby's bottle or she'll starve." + +It was impossible, under such circumstances, for one to refuse, though +I would have preferred to head a regiment going into battle, for +there were three young ladies, about six seats behind me, who were +eating their lunch in the car, and I knew they would laugh at me; +besides, the woman gave me no chance to decline, for she thrust the +wide-eyed terror into my awkward arms, and rushed quickly out to +obtain her cup of tea. + +Did you ever see a bashful young man hold a strange baby? I expect I +furnished--I and the baby--a comic opera, music and all, for the +entertainment of the three girls, as they nibbled their cold chicken +and pound-cake. For the mother had not been gone over fifteen seconds +when that confounded young one began to cry. I sat her down on my knee +and trotted her. She screamed with indignation, and grew so purple in +the face I thought she was strangling, and I patted her on the back. +This liberty she resented by going into a sort of spasm, legs and arms +flying in every direction, worse than a wind-mill in a gale. + +"This will never do," I thought; at the same time I was positive I +heard a suppressed giggle in my rear. + +A happy thought occurred to me--infants were always tickled with +watches! But, alas I had pawned mine. However, I had a gold locket in +my pocket, with my picture in it, which I had bought in Chicago, to +present to the widow, and didn't present: this I drew forth and +dangled before the eyes of the little infernal threshing-machine. + +The legs and arms quieted down; the fat hands grabbed the glittering +trinket. "Goo--goo--goo--goo," said the baby, and thrust the locket in +her mouth. I think she must have been going through the interesting +process of teething, for she made so many dents in the handsome face, +that it was rendered useless as a future gift to some fortunate girl, +while the way she slobbered over it was disgusting. I scarcely regretted +the ruin of the locket, I was so delighted to have her keep quiet; but, +alas! the little wretch soon dropped it and began howling like ten +thousand midnight cats. I trotted her again--I tossed her--I laid her +over my knees on her stomach--I said "Ssh--ssh--ssssh--sssssh!" all in +vain. Instead of ten minutes for refreshments it seemed to me that they +gave ten hours. + +In desperation I raised her and hung her over my shoulder, rising at +the same time and walking up and down the aisle. The howling ceased: +but now the young ladies, after choking with suppressed laughter, +finally broke into a scream of delight. Something must be up! I took +the baby down and looked over my shoulder--the little rip had opened +her mouth and sent a stream of white, curdy milk down the back of my +new overcoat. For one instant the fate of that child hung in the +balance. I walked to the door, and made a movement to throw her to +the dogs; but humanity gained the day, and I refrained. + +I felt that my face was redder than the baby's; every passenger +remaining in the car was smiling. I went calmly back, and laid her +down on the seat, while I took off my coat and made an attempt to +remove the odious matters with my handkerchief, which ended by my +throwing the coat over the back of the seat in disgust, resolving that +mother would have to finish the job with her "Renovator." My +handkerchief I threw out of the window. + +Thank goodness! the engine bell was ringing at last and the people +crowding back into the train. + +I drew a long breath of relief, snatched the shrieking infant up +again, for fear the mother would blame me for neglecting her ugly +brat--and waited. + +"All aboard!" shouted the conductor; the bell ceased to ring, the +wheels began to revolve, the train was in motion. + +"Great Jupiter Ammen!" I thought, while a cold sweat started out all +over me, "she will be left!" + +The cars moved faster and more mercilessly fast; the conductor +appeared at the door; I rose and rushed toward him, the baby in my +arms, crying: + +"For Heaven's sake, conductor, stop the cars!" + +"What's up?" he asked. + +"What's up? Stop the cars, I say! Back down to the station again! +_This baby's mother's left!_" + +"Then she left on purpose," he answered coolly; "she never went into +the eating-house at all. I saw her making tall tracks for the train +that goes the other way. I thought it was all right. I didn't notice +she hadn't her baby with her. I'll telegraph at the next station; +that's all that can be done now." + +This capped the climax of all my previous blunders! Why had I blindly +consented to care for that woman's progeny? Why? why? Here was I, John +Flutter, a young, innocent, unmarried man, approaching the home of my +childhood with an infant in my arms! The horror of my situation turned +me red and pale by turns as if I had apoplexy or heart disease. + +There was always a crowd of young people down at the depot of our +village; what would they think to see me emerge from the cars carrying +that baby? Even the child seemed astonished, ceasing to cry, and +staring around upon the passengers as if in wonder and amazement at +our predicament. Yet not one of those heartless travelers seemed to +pity me; every mouth was stretched in a broad grin; not a woman came +forward and offered to relieve me of my burden; and thus, in the midst +of my embarrassment and horror, the train rolled up to the well-known +station, and I saw my father and mother, and half the boys and girls +of the village, crowding the platform and waiting to welcome my +arrival. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL. + + +Once more I was settled quietly down to my old life, clerking in my +father's store. You would naturally suppose that my travels would have +given me some confidence, and that I had worn out, as it were, the +bashfulness of youth; but in my case this was an inborn quality which +I could no more get rid of, than I could of my liver or my spleen. + +I had never confessed to any one the episode of the giant-powder or +the Chicago widow; but the story of the baby had crept out, through +the conductor, who told it to the station-master. If you want to know +how _that_ ended, I'll just tell you that, maddened by the grins and +giggles of the passengers, I started for the car door with that baby, +but, in passing those three giggling young ladies, I suddenly slung +the infant into their collective laps, and darted out upon the station +platform. That's the way I got out of that scrape. + +As I was saying, after all those dreadful experiences, I was glad to +settle down in the store, where I honestly strove to overcome my +weakness; but it was still so troublesome that father always +interfered when the girls came in to purchase dry-goods. He said I +almost destroyed the profits of the business, giving extra measure on +ribbons and silks, and getting confused over the calicoes. But I'm +certain the shoe was on the other foot; there wasn't a girl in town +would go anywhere else to shop when they could enjoy the fun of +teasing me; so that if I made a few blunders, I also brought custom. + +Cold weather came again, and I was one year older. There was a grand +ball on the twenty-second of February, to which I invited Hetty +Slocum, who accepted my escort. We expected to have lots of fun. The +ball-room was in the third story of the Spread-Eagle Hotel. There was +to be a splendid supper at midnight in the big dining-room; hot +oysters "in every style," roast turkey, chicken-pie, coffee, and all +the sweet fixings. + +It turned out to be a clear night; I took Hetty to the hotel in +father's fancy sleigh, in good style, and having got her safely to the +door of the ladies' parlor without a blunder to mar my peace of mind, +except that I stepped on her slippered foot in getting into the +sleigh, and crushed it so, that Hetty could hardly dance for the pain, +I began to feel an unusual degree of confidence in myself, which I +fortified by a stern resolution, on no account to get to blushing and +stammering, but to walk coolly up to the handsomest girls and ask them +out on the floor with all the self-possessed gallantry of a man of +the world. + +Alas! "the best-laid plans of mice an' men must aft gang," like a +balky horse--just opposite to what you want them to. I spoke to my +acquaintances in the bar-room easily enough, but when one after one +the fellows went up to the door of the ladies' dressing-room to escort +their fair companions to the ball-room, I felt my courage oozing away, +until, under the pretext of keeping warm by the fire, I remained in +the bar-room until every one else had deserted it. Then I slowly made +my way up, intending to enter the gentlemen's dressing-room, to tie my +white cravat, and put on my white kids. I found the room +deserted--every one had entered the ball-room but myself; I could hear +the gay music of the violins, and the tapping of the feet on the floor +overhead. Surely it was time that I had called for _my_ lady, and +taken her up. + +I knew that Hetty would be mad, because I had made her lose the first +dance; yet, I fooled and fooled over the tying of my cravat, dreading +the ordeal of entering the ball-room with a lady on my arm. At last it +was tied. I turned to put on my gloves; then, for the first time, I +was made aware that I had mistaken the room. I was in the ladies', not +the gentlemen's dressing-room. There were the heaps of folded cloaks, +and shawls, and the hoods. That very instant, before I could beat a +retreat, I heard voices at the door--Hetty's among them. I glared +around for some means of escape. There were none. What excuse could I +make for my singular intrusion? Would it be believed if I swore that I +had been unaware of the character of my surroundings? Would I be +suspected of being a kleptomaniac? In the intensity of my +mortification I madly followed the first impulse which moved me. This +was to dive under the bed. + +I had no more than taken refuge in this curious hiding-place, than I +regretted the foolish act; to be discovered there would be infamy and +disgrace too deep for words. I would have crawled out at the last +second, but it was too late; I heard the girls in the room, and was +forced to try and keep still as a mouse, though my heart thumped so I +was certain they must hear it. + +"Where do you suppose he has gone?" asked one. + +"Goodness knows," answered Hetty. "I have looked in the gentlemen's +room--he's not there. Catch me going to a ball with John Flutter +again." + +"It's a real insult, his not coming for you," added another; "but, la! +you must excuse it. I know what's the trouble. I'll bet you two cents +he's afraid to come up-stairs. He! he! he!" + +Then all of them tittered "he! he! he" and "ha! ha! ha!" + +"Did you ever see such a bashful young fellow?" + +"He's a perfect goose!" + +"Isn't it fun alive to tease him?" + +"Do you remember when he tumbled in the lake?" + +"Oh! and the time he sat down in the butter-tub?" + +"Yes; and that day he came to our house and sat down in Old Mother +Smith's cap instead of a vacant chair, because he was blushing so it +made him blind." + +"Well, if he hadn't crushed my foot getting into the sleigh, I +wouldn't care," added Hetty, spitefully. "I shall limp all the +evening." + +"I do despise a blundering, stupid fellow that can't half take care of +a girl." + +"Yes; but what would you do without Mr. Flutter to laugh at?" + +"That's so. As long as he stays around we will have somebody to amuse +us." + +"He'd be good-looking if he wasn't always so red in the face." + +"If I was in his place I'd never go out without a veil." + +"To hide his blushes?" + +"Of course. What a pity he forgot to take his hat off in church last +Sunday, until his mother nudged him." + +"Yes. Did you hear it smash when he put his foot in it when he got up +to go?" + +Heavens and earth! There I was, under the bed, an enforced listener to +this flattering conversation. My breast nearly burst with anger at +them, at myself, at a cruel fate which had sent me into the world, +doomed to grow up a bashful man. If, by falling one thousand feet +plumb down, I could have sunk through that floor, I would have run the +risk. + +"You heard about the ba----" began Hetty. + +It was too much! In my torment I moved my feet without meaning to, and +they hit against the leg of the bedstead with some force. + +"What's that?" + +"A cat under the bed, I should say." + +"More likely a rat. Oh, girls! it may gnaw our cloaks; mine is under +there, I know." + +"Well, let us drive it out." + +"Oh! oh! oh! I'm afraid!" + +"I'm not; I'm going to see what is under there." + +My heart ceased to beat. Should I live to the next centennial, I shall +never forget that moment. + +The girl who had spoken last stooped and looked under the bed; this +motion was followed by a thrilling shriek. + +"There's a _man_ under the bed!" she screamed. + +The other girls joined in; a wild chorus of shrieks arose, commingled +with cries of "Robber!" "Thief!" "Burglar!" + +Urged to desperation, I was about to roll out from my hiding-place and +make a rush to get out, hoping to pass unrecognized by covering my +face with my hands, when two or three dozen young men swooped into the +room. + +"What is it?" + +"Where?" + +"A man under the bed!" + +"Let me at the rascal!" + +"Ha! come out here, you villain!" + +All was over. They dragged me out, covered with dust and feathers, +and, pulling my despairing hands from over my miserable face, they +turned me to the light. Then the fury and the threats subsided. There +was a moment's profound silence--girls and fellows stared in mute +astonishment, and then--then broke from one and all a burst of +convulsive laughter. And in the midst of those shrieks and groans of +mirth at my expense, everything grew dark, and I suffered no more. +They told me afterward that I fainted dead away. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR. + + +My mother and the ancient lady who presided over the mysteries of my +initiation as a member of the human fraternity, say that I was born +with a caul over my face. Now, what I want to know is, why didn't they +leave that caul where they found it? What business had they to meddle +with the veil which beneficent nature gave me as a shield to my +infirmity? Had they respected her intention, they would have let it +alone--poked a hole in it for me to eat and breathe through, and left +the veil which she kindly provided to hide my blushing face from the +eyes of my fellow-creatures. + +Nature knew beforehand that I was going to be born to be bashful. +Therefore she gave me a caul. Had this been respected as it should +have been, I could have blossomed out into my full luxuriance as a +_cauli_flower whereas now I am an ever-blooming peony. + +When I rushed home after recovering from the fainting fit into which +my hiding under the bed had driven me, I threw myself down in he +sanctity of my private apartment and howled and shrieked for that caul +of my infancy. But no caul came at my call. That dried and withered +thing was reposing somewhere amid the curiosities of an old hag's +bureau-drawer. + +Then I wildly wished that I were the veiled prophet of Khorassan. But +no! I was only bashful John Flutter, the butt and ridicule of a little +meddling village. + +I knew that this last adventure would revive the memory of all my +previous exploits. I knew the girls would all go to see each other the +next day so as to have a good giggle together. Worse than that, I knew +there would be an unprecedented run of custom at the store. There +wouldn't be a girl in the whole place who wouldn't require something +in the dry-goods line the coming day; they would come and ask for pins +and needles just for the heartless fun of seeing _me_ enduring the +pangs of mental pins and needles. + +So I resolved that I would not get up that morning. The breakfast-bell +rang three times; mother came up to knock at my door. + +"Oh, I am so sleepy, mother!" I answered, with a big yawn; "you knew I +was up last night. Don't want any breakfast, just another little nap." + +So the good soul went down, leaving me to my wretched thoughts. At +noon she came up again. + +"John, you had better rise now. Father can't come to dinner there's so +many customers in the store. Seems as if there was going to be a ball +to-night again; every girl in town is after ribbon, or lace, or +hair-pins, or something." + +"I can't get up to-day, mother. I'm awfully unwell--got a high +fever--_you'll_ have to go in and lend father a helping hand"; and so +she brought me a cup of tea and a piece of toast, and then went up to +take father's place while he ate his dinner. + +I _guess_ she suspected I'd been done for again by the way those young +women laughed when she told them I was sick in bed: for she was pretty +cross when I sneaked down to tea, and didn't seem to worry about how I +felt. Well, I kept pretty quiet the rest of the season. There were +dances and sleighing parties, but I stayed away from them, and +attended strictly to business. + +I don't know but that I might have begun to enjoy some peace of mind, +after the winter and part of the spring had passed without any very +awful catastrophe having occurred to me; but, some time in the latter +part of May, when the roses were just beginning to bloom, and +everything was lovely, a pretty cousin from some distant part of the +State came to spend a month at our house. I had never seen her before, +and you may imagine how I felt when she rushed at me and kissed me, +and called me her dear cousin John, just as if we had known each other +all the days of our lives. I think it was a constant surprise to her +to find that I was bashful. _She_ wasn't a bit so. It embarrassed me a +thousand times more to see how she would slyly watch out of the corner +of her laughing eye for the signs of my diffidence. + +Well, of course, all the girls called on her, and boys too, as to +that, and I had to take her to return their visits, and I was in hot +water all the time. Before she went away, mother gave her a large +evening party. I behaved with my usual elegance of manner, stepping on +the ladies' trains and toes in dancing, calling them by other people's +names, and all those little courtesies for which I was so famous. I +even contrived to sit down where there was no chair, to the amusement +of the fellows. My cousin Susie was going away the next day. I was +dead in love with her, and my mind was taken up with the intention of +telling her so. I had not the faintest idea of whether she cared for +me or not. She had laughed at me and teased me mercilessly. + +On the contrary, she had been very encouraging to Tom Todd, a young +lawyer of the place--a little snob, with self-conceit enough in his +dapper body for six larger men. This evening he had been particularly +attentive to her. Susie was pretty and quite an heiress, so I knew Tom +Todd would try to secure her. He was just that kind of a fellow who +could propose to a girl while he was asking her out for a set of the +lanciers, or handing her a plate of salad at supper. Alas, I could do +nothing of the kind. With all my superior opportunities, here the last +evening was half through, and I had not yet made a motion to secure +the prize. I watched Tom as if he had been a thief and I a detective. +I was cold and hot by turns whenever he bent to whisper in Susie's +ear, as he did about a thousand times. At last, as supper-time +approached, I saw my cousin slip out into the dining-room. I thought +mother had sent her to see that all was right, before marshalling the +company out to the feast. + +"Now, or never," I thought, turning pale as death; and with one +resolute effort I slipped into the hall and so into the dining-room. + +Susie was there, doing something; but when she saw me enter she gave a +little shriek and darted into the pantry. No! I was not to be baffled +thus. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but I thought of that +snob in the parlor, and pressed on to the pantry-door. + +"Susie," said I, very softly, trying to open it--"Susie, I _must_ +speak to you. Let me in." + +The more I tried to open the door the more firmly she held it. + +"Do go along with you, cousin John," she answered. + +"I can't, Susie. I want to see you a minute." + +"See me? Oh, what a wicked fellow! Go along, or I'll tell your +mother." + +"Tell, or not; for once I'm going to have my own way," I said, and +pressing my knee against the door, I forced it open, and there stood +my pretty cousin, angry and blushing, trying to hide from my view the +crinoline which had come off in the parlor. + +I retreated, closing the door and waiting for her to re-appear. + +In a few minutes she came out, evidently offended. + +"Susie," I stammered, "I did--did--didn't dream your bus--bus--bustle +had come off. I only wanted to tell you that--that I pr--pr--pri--prize +your li--li--li--" + +"But I never lie," she interrupted me, saucily. + +"That I shall be the most mis--is--is--er--able fellow that ever--" + +"Now don't make a goose of yourself, cousin John," she said, sweetly, +laying her little hand on my shoulder for an instant. "Stop where you +are! Tom Todd asked me to marry him, half an hour ago, and I said I +would." + +Tom Todd, then, had got the start of me; after all. Worse! he had +sneaked into the dining-room after Susie, and had come up behind us +and heard every word. As I turned, dizzy and confused, I saw his +smiling, insolent face. Enraged, unhappy, and embarrassed by his +grieving triumph, I hastily turned to retreat into the pantry! +Unfortunately, there were two doors close together, one leading to the +pantry, the other to the cellar. In my blind embarrassment I mistook +them; and the next moment the whole company were startled by a loud +bump--bumping, a crash, and a woman's scream. + +There was a barrel of soft-soap at the foot of the cellar-stairs, and +I fell, head first, into that. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +DRIVEN FROM HIS LAST DEFENCE. + + +Susie was Mrs. Todd before I recovered from the effects of my +involuntary soap-bath. + +"Smart trick!" cried my father when he fished me out of the barrel. + +I thought it _was_ smart, sure enough, by the sensation in my eyes. +But I have drawn a veil over that bit of my history. I know my +eyesight was injured for all that summer. I could not tell a piece of +silk from a piece of calico, except by the feeling; so I was excused +from clerking in the store, and sat round the house with green goggles +on, and wished I were different from what I was. By fall my eyesight +got better. One day father came in the parlor where I was sitting +moping, having just seen Tom Todd drive by in a new buggy with his +bride, and said to me: + +"John, I am disappointed in you." + +"I know it," I answered him meekly. + +"You look well enough, and you have talent enough," he went on; "but +you are too ridiculously bashful for an ostrich." + +"I know it," I again replied. "Oh, father, father, why did they take +that caul from my face?" + +"That--what?" inquired my puzzled sire. + +"That caul--wasn't I born with a caul, father?" + +"Now that I recall it, I believe you were," responded father, while +his stern face relaxed into a smile, "and I wish to goodness they had +left it on you, John; but they didn't, and that's an end of it. What I +was going to say was this. Convinced that you will never succeed as my +successor--that your unconquerable diffidence unfits you for the +dry-goods trade--I have been looking around for some such situation as +I have often heard you sigh for. The old light-house keeper on +Buncombe Island is dead, and I have caused you to be appointed his +successor. You will not see a human being except when supplies are +brought to you, which, in the winter, will be only once in two months. +Even then your peace will not be disturbed by any sight of one of the +other sex. You will not need a caul there! Go, my son, and remain +until you can outgrow your absurd infirmity." + +I felt dismayed at the prospect, now that it was so near at hand. I +had often--in the distance--yearned for the security of a light-house. +Yet I now looked about on our comfortable parlor with a longing eye. I +recalled the pleasant tea-hour when there were no visitors; I thought +of the fun the boys and girls would have this coming winter, and I +wished father had not been so precipitate in securing that vacant +place. + +Just then Miss Gabble came up our steps, and shortly after entered the +parlor. She was one of those dreaded beings, who always filled me with +the direst confusion. She sat right down by my side and squeezed my +hand. + +"My poor, dear fellow-mortal!" said she, getting her sharp face so +close to mine I thought she was going to kiss me, "how do you do? +Wearing them goggles yet? It is too bad. And yet, after all, they are +sort of becoming to you. In fact, you're so good-looking you can wear +anything. And how your mustache does grow, to be sure!" + +I saw father was getting up to leave the room, and I flung her hand +away, saying quickly to him: "I'll get the glass of water, father." + +And so I beat him that time, and got out of the room, quite willing to +live in the desert of Sahara, if by it I could get rid of such +females. + +Well, I went to Buncombe Island. I retired from the world to a +light-house in the first bloom of my youth. I did not want to be a +monk--I could not be a man--and so I did what fate and my father laid +out for me to do. Through the fine autumn weather I enjoyed my +retirement. I had taken plenty of books and magazines with me to while +away the time; there was a lovely promenade along the sea-wall on +which the tall tower stood, and I could walk there for hours without +my pulse being disturbed by visions of parasols, loves of bonnets, and +pretty faces under them. I communed with the sea. I told it my rations +were too salt; that I didn't like the odor of the oil in filling the +lamps; that my legs got tired going up to the lantern, and that my +arms gave out polishing the lenses. I also confided to it that I would +not mind these little trifles if I only had one being to share my +solitude--a modest, shy little creature that I wouldn't be afraid to +ask to be my wife. + + "Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own, + In a blue summer ocean far off and alone." + +I'd forget the curse of my life and be happy in spite of it. + +When winter shut down, however, I didn't talk quite so much to the +sea; it was ugly and boisterous, and the windy promenade was +dangerous, and I shut myself up and pined like the "Prisoner of +Chillon." I have lots of spunk and pride, if I am bashful; and so I +never let on to those at home--when I sent them a letter once in two +months by the little tug that brought my oil and provisions--that I +was homesick. I said the ocean was glorious; that there was a Byronic +sublimity in lighting up the lantern; that standing behind a counter +and showing dry-goods to silly, giggling girls couldn't be compared +with it; that I hadn't blushed in six months, and that I didn't think +I should ever be willing to come back to a world full of grinning +snobs and confusing women. + +And now, what do you think happened to me? My fate was too strong even +for Buncombe Island. It was the second of January. The tug had not +left the island, after leaving a nine-weeks' supply, more than twelve +hours before a fearful gale began to blow; it rose higher and higher +through the night, and in the morning I found that a small +sailing-vessel had been wrecked about half a mile from the +light-house, where the beach ran out for some distance into the water, +and the land was not so high as on the rock. I ran down there, the +wind still roaring enough to blow me away, and the spray dashing into +my eyes, and I found the vessel had gone to pieces and every man was +drowned. + +But what was this that lay at my feet? A woman, lashed to a spar, and +apparently dead. When I picked her up, though, she opened her eyes and +shut them again. Enough! this was no time to think of peculiar +difficulties. I lugged her to the warm room in the light-house where I +sat and lived. I put her before the fire; I heated some brandy and +poured it between her lips; in short, when I sat down to my little +tea-table late that afternoon, somebody sat on the opposite side--a +woman--a girl, rather, not more than eighteen or nineteen. Here she +was, and here she must remain for two long months. + +_She_ did not seem half so much put out as I. In fact, she was quite +calm, after she had explained to me that she was one of three +passengers on board the sailing-vessel, and that all the others were +drowned. + +"You will have to remain here for two months," I ventured to explain +to her, coloring like a lobster dabbed into hot water. + +"Oh, then, I may as well begin pouring the tea at once," she observed +coolly; "that's a feminine duty, you know, sir." + +"I'm glad you're not afraid of me," I ventured to say. + +"Afraid of you!" she replied, tittering. "No, indeed. It is _you_ who +are afraid of _me_. But I sha'n't hurt you, sir. You mind your +affairs, and I'll mind mine, and neither of us will come to grief. +Why, what a lot of books you've got! And such an easy-chair! It's just +splendid here, and so romantic, like the stories we read." + +I repressed a groan, and allowed her, after supper, and she had done +as she said--washed the dishes--to take possession of my favorite book +and my favorite seat. She was tired with her adventures of the night +before, and soon asked where she was to sleep. + +"In there," I answered, pointing to the door of a small bedroom which +opened out of the living-room. + +She went in, and locked the door; and I went up to the lantern to see +that all was right, and to swear and tear around a little. Here was a +two-months'-long embarrassment! Here was all my old trouble back in a +new shape! What would my folks--what would the world say? Would they +believe the story about the wreck? Must my character suffer? Even at +the best, I must face this girl of the period from morning until +night. She had already discovered that I was bashful; she would take +advantage of it to torment me. What would the rude men say when they +came again with supplies? + +Better measure tape in my father's store for a lot of teasing young +ladies whom I know, than dwell alone in a light-house with this +inconsiderate young woman! + +"If ever I get out of this scrape, I will know when I am well off!" I +moaned, tearing my hair, and gazing wildly at the pitiless lights. + +Suddenly a thought struck me. I had seen a small boat beached near the +scene of the wreck; it probably had belonged to the ship. I remained +in the lantern until it began to grow daybreak; then I crept down and +out, and ran to examine that boat. It was water-proof, and one of its +oars still remained. The waves were by this time comparatively calm. I +pushed the boat into the water, jumped in, rowed around to the other +side of the island, and that day I made thirty miles, with only one +oar, landing at the city dock at sunset. I was pretty well used-up I +tell you. But I had got away from that solitary female, who must have +spent a pensive day at Buncombe, in wondering what had become of me. I +reported at headquarters that night, resigned, and started for home. +I'm afraid the light-house lamps were not properly tended that night; +still, they may have been, and that girl was equal to anything. + +Such is life! Such has been _my_ experience. Do you wonder that I am +still a bachelor? I will not go on, relating circumstances in my life +which have too much resemblance to each other. It would only be a +repetition of my miserable blunders. But I will make a proposition to +young ladies in general. I am well-to-do; the store is in a most +flourishing condition; I have but one serious fault, and you all know +what that is. Now, will not some of you take pity on me? I might be +waylaid, blindfolded, lifted into a carriage, and abducted. I might be +brought before a minister and frightened into marrying any nice, +handsome, well-bred girl that had courage enough for such an +emergency. Once safely wedded, I have a faint idea that my bashfulness +will wear off. Come! who is ready to try the experiment? + + * * * * * + + + + +Murine Eye Remedies + +Murine is a Reliable Domestic Eye Remedy, Perfectly Harmless, and +should be in the Medicine Closet of every Family, as a "First Aid" for +Injuries or Diseased Conditions of that delicate organ, the Eye. + +[Illustration] + +It does not Smart or Irritate the Eye, but is Soothing in its action. +Tonic, Astringent and an Antiseptic Lotion, and while it is used by +Physicians it is in every sense a Domestic Remedy and can be used by +every one with Perfect Safety for the Prevention of Eye Troubles and +for Affections and Diseases of the external surface of the Eye and +Lids. + +Recommended for Weak Eyes, Strained Eyes, Itching Eyes, Red Eyes and +Eyelids, for Well Eyes that are Tired, for Red Eyes from Weeping, for +Redness and Swelling of the Eyelids, and for Eyes affected by the +excessive use of Tobacco and Stimulants. + +Your Druggist sells Murine Eye Remedies. Our Books mailed Free, tell +you all about them and how to use them. + +May be sent by mail at following prices. + +Murine Eye Remedy 25c., 50c., $1.00 + +DeLuxe Toilet Edition--For the Dressing Table 1.25 + +Tourist--Autoist--in Leather Case 1.25 + +Murine Eye Salve in Aseptic Tubes 25c., 1.00 + +Granuline--For Chronic Sore Eyes and Trachoma 1.50 + +MURINE EYE REMEDY CO. + +Michigan Avenue and Randolph Street, CHICAGO, U. S. A. + + * * * * * + +OGILVIE'S POPULAR + +RAILROAD SERIES. + +[Illustration] + +A KENTUCKY EDITOR O. READ + +FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH A. W. MARCHMONT + +WITH FORCE AND ARMS HOWARD R. GARIS + +THE BUBBLE FAMILY 175 illus BOB BUBBLE + +200 OLD-TIME SONGS. Words and Music. + +CHORUS GIRLS I HAVE KNOWN FRANK DESHON + +'WAY BACK IN '61 G. M. WHITE + +MODERN PALMISTRY; or, Guide to the Hand INA OXENFORD + +THE RACING PARSON CHAS. JOSIAH ADAMS + +'WAY DOWN EAST JOS. R. GRISMER + +MORE TO BE PITIED THAN SCORNED C. E. BLANEY + +DESERTED AT THE ALTAR GRACE MILLER WHITE + +A WIFE'S CONFESSIONS GRACE MILLER WHITE + +WHY WOMEN SIN GRACE MILLER WHITE + +A CLEVER ESCAPE NAT GOULD + +A BID FOR FREEDOM GUY BOOTHBY + +CHASED BY FIRE NAT GOULD + +A GREAT STRUGGLE NAT GOULD + +PEOPLE I'VE SMILED WITH MARSHALL P. WILDER + +HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +A FASCINATING TRAITOR RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +A CAPTIVE PRINCESS RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +AN EXILE FROM LONDON RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +MY OFFICIAL WIFE RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +THE TRAGEDY OF ADREA E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + +RICHARD BAXTER EDWARD F. JONES + +THE DREAM OF LOVE EMIL ZOLA + +HIRAM BIRDSEED AT JAMESTOWN HIRAM BIRDSEED + +A FAITHFUL LOVER AMELIE RIVES + +A GENTLEMAN FROM MISSISSIPPI THOS. A. WISE + +THE LETTERS OF MILDRED'S MOTHER TO MILDRED E. D. PRICE + +THE PRIDE OF THE RANCHO HENRY E. SMITH + +THE ASHES OF LOVE CHARLES GARVICE + +ST. ELMO AUGUSTA J. EVANS + +ARSENE LUPIN, Gentleman Burglar MAURICE LEBLANO + +ARSENE LUPIN versus HERLOCK SHOLMES M. LEBLANO + +TANGLES UNTANGLED PAT RICE + +100 STORIES IN BLACK BRIDGES SMITH + +A WOMAN'S SOUL CHARLES GARVICE + +THE CHINATOWN TRUNK MYSTERY OLIVE HARPER + +SHERLOCK HOLMES DETECTIVE STORIES. A. C. DOYLE + +Any of the above books are for sale by newsdealers everywhere, or they +will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents per copy. +Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUB. CO., 57, Ross Street, New york. + + * * * * * + +HERE'S ANOTHER ONE! + +If you have read any of the detective stories which we have +recommended to you, such as THE WORLD'S FINGER, MACON MOORE, Etc., you +know that our statements in regard to their being "the real thing" +were not overdrawn. We now have another one just as good, which we +unhesitatingly recommend. It is entitled + +[Illustration] + +THE HOUSE + +BY THE RIVER + +BY + +FLORENCE WARDEN. + +WHAT THE REVIEWERS SAY OF IT. + + "Florence Warden is the Anna Katharine Greene of England. + She apparently has the same marvelous capacity as Mrs. + Rohlfs for concocting the most complicated plots and most + mystifying mysteries, and serving them up hot to her + readers."--_N. Y. Globe._ + + "The author has a knack of intricate plot-work which will + keep an intelligent reader at _her_ books, when he would + become tired over far better novels not so strongly + peppered. For even the 'wisest men' now and then relish not + only a little nonsense, but as well do they enjoy a + thrilling story of mystery. And this is one--a dark, deep, + awesome, compelling if not convincing tale."--_Sacramento + Bee._ + + "The interest of the story is deep and intense, and many + guesses might be made of the outcome, as one reads along, + without hitting on the right one."--_Salt Lake Tribune_. + +This book contains 310 pages, printed in large clear type, and is +bound in handsome paper cover. It is for sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or it will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of price, 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +SENSATIONAL + +FRENCH FICTION + +makes a strong appeal to a certain class of readers--people who have +lived long enough to realize that there are huge problems of sex and +matrimony, that can only be solved through the actual experience of +the persons concerned. Numberless books have been and are being +written and published treating on these questions, and if through +reading them we are enabled to enlarge our view, look at our problem +from a different angle, appropriate for our own use the benefit of +others' experience either actual or imaginary, by just so much are we +better able to live and think aright and secure to ourselves the +happiness that is our inherent right and goal. + +[Illustration] + +SAPPHO + +BY ALPHONSE DAUDET, + +is a book dealing with the great elements of love and passion as +depicted by life in the gay French capital, Paris. It created an +enormous sensation when first written, and has been in steady demand +ever since from those who, for the first time, have a chance to read +it. It should be read by every thoughtful man and woman. + +For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, +postpaid, on receipt of price, 50 cents. + + * * * * * + +WELL! WELL!! WELL!!! + +[Illustration] + +Talk about your mystery and detective stories-- + +THE MYSTERY + +OF THE + +RAVENSPURS + +By FRED. M. WHITE, + +is certainly a hummer. + +Mr. White stands in the forefront of the mystery and detective story +writers of the English speaking world to-day, and this is one of his +best and latest books. + +Do you like surprises that make your eyes open wide? Sustained +excitement and strange scenes that compel you to read on page after +page with unflagging interest? Something that lifts you out of your +world of care and business, and transports you to another land, clime, +and scenes? Then don't fail to read + +The Mystery of the Ravenspurs. + +It is a romantic tale of adventure, mystery and amateur detective +work, with scenes laid in England, India, and the distant and +comparatively unknown Thibet. A band of mystics from the latter +country are the prime movers in the various conspiracies, and their +new, unique, weird, strange methods form one of the features of the +story. + +Read of the clever detective work by blind Ralph, which borders upon +the supernatural; of walking the black Valley of Death in Thibet, with +its attendant horrors; of the Princess Zara, and her power, intrigue +and treachery laid bare; of the poisonous bees and the deadly perfume +flowers. Unflagging interest holds your spell-bound attention from +cover to cover. + +NEW! UP-TO-DATE! ENTERTAINING! + +The book contains 320 pages, bound in paper cover, with handsome +illustration in colors. Formerly published in cloth at $1.25, now +issued in paper covers at 25 CENTS. + +For sale by booksellers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of price. Address + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +The Price Inevitable; + +OR, + +THE CONFESSIONS OF IRENE. + +BY + +AURELIA I. SIDNER. + +Confessions of whatever nature always seem to appeal to the American +people, possibly because of the fact that in writing such a confession +the author usually lays bare the one great wrong committed, and +endeavors to show and teach by example and experience how the mistake +or indiscretion could have been avoided, and how, also, there must +always be paid THE PRICE INEVITABLE. + +This story tells, in a series of letters, of a woman who was divorced +from her husband, but who in order to win the love and respect of a +pure, honest man, strives to live aright. She fails to win his love, +however, owing to her past life, but does succeed in redeeming +herself. The story is charmingly written, and is more than +interesting--it holds one spell-bound. It is full of excitement and +action, and the characters are strongly drawn and true to nature. The +moral tone is refreshing and the climax is a lengthy SERMON in itself. + +The book contains 212 pages with 3 full-page half-tone illustrations, +and can be obtained at your dealers or from us, cloth bound, for 50 +cents, postpaid. + + * * * * * + +HERE WE COME AGAIN + +With Another Rattling Good + +ADVENTURE AND DETECTIVE STORY! + +SPRIGGS, THE + +CRACKSMAN. + +By HEADON HILL + +[Illustration] + +Ordinarily Spriggs was a cracksman, but the information he gained +while at work one night so surprised him, that he forgot to "burgle," +and then and there decided to get busy on a job that meant a cleanup +of a $60,000 diamond. It led him a perilous chase in which the native +priests and followers of a hidden band in India showed him some things +not seen on the "Strand." + +He also has trouble awaiting him on his return to England. His heart +is in the right place, however, a little kindness, sympathy and help +having been all that were required to change his attitude toward +humanity, and he is able to show his gratitude at an opportune moment. + +A STIRRING, ENTERTAINING, + +SPELL-BINDING STORY! + +The book contains 345 solid pages of reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +DO YOU ENJOY + +reading a book that has just enough dash and piquancy about it to +cause a smile to wreathe your face? A book that tells in an extremely +humorous way of the doings of some smart theatrical folk? Life is many +sided, and our book, + +[Illustration] + +THE LETTERS OF + +MILDRED'S MOTHER TO MILDRED + +BY E. D. PRICE, + +shows one of the sides with which you may not be familiar. + +Mildred is a girl in the chorus at one of New York's famous theatres, +and her mother is a woman who "travels" with a friend by the name of +Blanche. The book is written by E. D. Price, "The Man Behind the +Scenes," one well qualified to touch upon the stage-side of life. + +The following is the Table of Contents: + +Mother at the Races. + +Mother at a Chicago Hotel. + +Mother Goes Yachting. + +Mother Escapes Matrimony, + +Mother Meets Nature's Noblemen. + +Mother Joins the Repertoire Company. + +Mother in the One Night Stands. + +Mother and the Theatrical Angel. + +Mother Returns to Mildred. + +Read what Blakely Hall says of it: + + "I don't know whether you are aware of it or not, but you + are turning out wonderful, accurate and convincing character + studies in the Mildred's Mother articles. They are as + refreshing and invigorating as showers on the hottest July + day." + +The book contains 160 pages, with attractive cover in colors. Price, +cloth bound, $1.00; paper cover, 50 cents. For sale by all booksellers +everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of price. Address + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +The Testing of + +Olive Vaughan + +By PERCY J. BREBNER, + +_Author of "The Princess Maritza," Etc._ + +The stage has ever held an allurement for the lay reader, the general +public, and the uninitiated, so to speak, and Mr. Brebner has chosen +this background for the setting of his story, and has woven around +Olive Vaughan, scenes and incidents showing the temptations to which +every aspirant for theatrical fame and fortune is subject, and showing +too, how, through right decisions and correct judgment based on inborn +and developing strength of character, she is able to rise superior to +her surroundings and wrest a great success. This is not easy to +accomplish, however, and its telling, which shows a fine literary +style and unquestioned powers of characterization and description, is +what makes the author one of the most popular among fiction writers of +the present day. + +It will appeal strongly to every woman who has at any time in her +career been called upon to decide the momentous question of +marrying--whether to follow the dictates of the heart and marry the +one she loves, or follow the decisions of the mind overruling the +heart, and marry one who can give her position and plenty, and whom +she expects to be able to learn to love. + +The book contains 296 pages, printed from new, large type on good +paper, bound in paper cover with attractive design in colors. For sale +by newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of +25 cents. Bound in cloth, price, 75 cents. + + * * * * * + +The Confessions + +Of a Princess + +A book of this sort would necessarily be anonymous, and the name of +the author is not necessary as indicative of literary ability, the +strength of the story depending upon its action as revealed through +the laying bare of the innermost secrets of a "Princess of the Realm" +whose disposition and character were such as to compel her to find +elsewhere than in her own home the love, tenderness, admiration, and +society which was lacking there, and which her being craved. + +Position, money and power, seem to those who do not possess them, to +bring happiness. Such is not the case, however, where stability of +character is lacking and where one depends upon the pleasures of sense +for the enjoyment of life rather than on the accomplishment of things +worth while based on high ideals. + +The writer has taken a page from her life and has given it to the +world. She has laid bare the soul of a woman, that some other woman +(or some man) might profit thereby. The names have been changed, and +such events omitted as might lead too readily to the discovery of +their identity. Each the victim of circumstance, yet the _price_ is +demanded of the one who fell the victim of environment. + +_The Confessions of a Princess_ is the story of a woman who saw, +conquered and fell. + +The book contains 270 pages, printed from new, large type on good +paper, bound in paper cover with attractive design in colors. For sale +by newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt, of +25 cents. Bound in cloth, price, 75 cents. + + * * * * * + +AN AUTOMOBILE + +has a fascination for millions of people. There is an exhilaration, a +restful, soothing, satisfying feeling about automobiling for pleasure +that seems different from that achieved in other ways. But it has its +trying, adventurous, and fearful side as well, and so to those who +have experienced these emotions, and to those who would like to +experience them, we heartily recommend the book + +[Illustration] + +THE CAR + +AND THE LADY + +By GRACE S. MASON and PERCY F. MEGARGEL, + +in which actual experience has been partially interwoven with fiction +in an exciting narrative of a race across the American continent. +Adventure, mistakes, accidents, good fortune, and surprise, follow one +another in rapid succession, keeping the tension of the reader at +excitement pitch until the goal is reached and the prize won--a prize +which at some time in every one's career is quite the only prize on +earth. + +The book contains 276 pages of solid reading matter, printed from +large, new type on good quality of paper, and bound in attractive +paper covers printed in colors. It is for sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +LATEST ADDITIONS + +TO + +OGILVIE'S + +POPULAR + +RAILROAD + +SERIES. + +[Illustration] + +SPRIGGS, THE CRACKSMAN HEADON HILL + +LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT THE "DUCHESS" + +THE TESTING OF OLIVE VAUGHAN P. T. BREBNER + +THE CONFESSIONS OF A PRINCESS ---- ---- + +SELF-RAISED MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +ISHMAEL MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +ONLY A GIRL'S LOVE CHARLES GARVICE + +SAPPHO ALPHONSE DAUDET + +THE HUMOROUS MR. BOWSER M. QUAD + +A BAD BOY'S DIARY BY HIMSELF + +A WOUNDED HEART CHARLES GARVICE + +EAST LYNNE MRS. HENRY WOOD + +THE PEER AND THE WOMAN E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + +ALONE ON A WIDE, WIDE SEA W. CLARK RUSSELL + +DANGERS OF WORKING GIRLS GRACE MILLER WHITE + +A LOYAL SLAVE GRACE MILLER WHITE + +Any of the above books are for sale by newsdealers everywhere, or they +will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents per copy. +Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +MACON MOORE, + +THE + +SOUTHERN DETECTIVE. + +[Illustration] + +Here is another rattling good book that we unhesitatingly recommend to +every one who enjoys a thrilling detective story. Each chapter +contains a startling episode in the attempt of MACON MOORE to run to +earth a gang of moonshiners in Southern Georgia, whose business was +that of manufacturing illicit whisky. + +His capture by the "Night Riders," and his daring escape from them at +their meeting in the Valley of Death, forms one of the many exciting +incidents of the story. + +One of our readers writes to us as follows: + + "I was absolutely unable to stop reading "Macon Moore" until + I had finished it. I expected to read for an hour or so, but + the situations were so dramatic and exciting at the end of + each chapter, that before I knew it I had started the next + one. I have read it three times, once while practicing + exercises on the piano, and shall read it again. It is a + corker." + +The book contains 250 pages, is bound in paper covers, and will be +sent to any address by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents. +Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +_READ IT! READ IT! READ IT!_ + +[Illustration] + +THE ASHES OF LOVE. + +... BY ... + +CHARLES GARVICE, + +The Matchless Magician of Fiction. + +UNPARALLELED IN INTEREST! + +UNEQUALLED IN ITS + +THRILLING SITUATIONS! + +Unsurpassed in Dramatic Intensity + +This Marvellous Story of Love, + +Passion, Mystery, Intrigue + +and Adventure Holds the + +Reader Spell-bound. + +From the pastoral beauty and palatial mansions of a northern clime, we +follow hero and heroine, with breathless interest, to the sun-scorched +veldt and arid plains of Southern Africa. + +On two continents we watch the battle between VIRTUE AND +VILLAINY--HONOR AND RASCALITY--JUSTICE AND KNAVERY. + +By the magic art of the author we are transformed from mere readers, +and become actual participants in a life drama of tremendous +interest--a drama which stirs every fibre of our being and sends the +blood coursing like a mill-race through the tense arteries of a +spell-bound body. + +THE CONVENTIONAL SCORNED! + +THE COMMONPLACE SPURNED! + +New Faces! New Types! New Scenes! New Thrills! + +SEIZE THE GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY HERE AND NOW. + +Don't Procrastinate! Don't Delay! But Buy and Read this + +Stupendous Masterpiece of Matchless Fiction. + +PRICE, 25 CENTS. + +The Ashes of Love contains nearly 450 pages of solid reading matter, +printed in large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers +with attractive cover design in two colors. It is for sale by +newsdealers and booksellers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, +postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +Do You Enjoy + +A Good Story of the Western Plains? + +If So, Don't Fail to Read + +[Illustration] + +The Pride of the Rancho. + +By HENRY E. SMITH. + +_12mo, 192 Pages. Price, Paper Bound_, + +_25 Cents; Bound in Cloth, $1.00._ + +The story is founded upon his play of the same name. + +The scene is laid in the West, where two college men have gone in +quest of health, and found it. It shows two manly, unselfish +characters, such as the youth of the present day might well emulate. + +It is full of the air, the love, and the excitement of the plains. The +plot is fascinating and the love story charming. + +A pretty romance is woven into the narrative, portraying the personal +charms and clever attractiveness of the Western girl, even though the +daughter of a ranchman. It carries a good moral throughout and is +eminently attractive to both young and old. + +The book contains 192 pages, with a frontispiece illustration. Price, +paper bound, 25 cents; bound in cloth, $1.00. For sale by all +booksellers and newsdealers, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price. + + * * * * * + +Eureka Detective Series + +[Illustration] + +All of the books in the Eureka Series are clever detective stories, +and each one of those mentioned below has received the heartiest +recommendation. Ask for the Eureka Series detective books. + +1. Inspector Henderson, the Central Office Detective. By H. I. Hancock + +2. His Evil Eye. By Harrie I. Hancock + +3. Detective Johnson of New Orleans. By H. I. Hancock + +4. Harry Blount, the Detective. By T. J. Flanagan + +5. Harry Sharp, the New York Detective. By H. Rockwood + +6. Private Detective No. 39. By John W. Postgate + +7. Not Guilty. By the author of "The Original Mr. Jacobs" + +8. A Confederate Spy. By Capt. Thos. N. Conrad + +9. A Study in Scarlet. By A. Conan Doyle + +10. The Unwilling Bride. By Fergus W. Hume + +11. The Man Who Vanished. By Fergus W. Hume + +12. The Lone Inn. By Fergus W. Hume + +13. The World's Finger. By T. Hanshew + +14. Tour of the World in Eighty Days. By Jules Verne + +15. The Frozen Pirate. By W. Clark Russell + +16. Mystery of a Hansom Cab. By Fergus W. Hume + +17. A Close Call. By J. L. Berry + +18. No. 99; A Detective Story. By Arthur Griffith + +19. The Sign of the Four. By A. Conan Doyle + +20. The Mystery of the Montauk Mills. By E. L. Coolidge + +21. The Mountain Limited. By E. L. Coolidge + +22. Gilt-Edge Tom, Conductor. By E. L. Coolidge + +23. The Mossbank Murder. By Harry Mills + +24. The Woman Stealer. By Harry Mills + +25. King Dan, The Factory Detective. By G. W. Goode + +See other advertisement for other list of titles in the Eureka Series. + +You can obtain the Eureka Series books where you bought this one, or +we will mail them to you, postpaid, for 25 cents each, or any five for +$1.00. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +NEW YORK'S LATEST SENSATION + +We have just issued in novel form + +the story of + +THE DEVIL, + +founded upon the successful and much discussed play of the same name +by + +FERENC MOLNAR, + +as produced by + +HENRY W. SAVAGE. + +The title is startling. The story is not so startling as the title +would indicate. It is a strongly moral one, showing in a vivid, +realistic manner the result of evil thinking. The Devil in this story +is evil thinking materialized. + +The scene centers in Vienna, and deals with the early love of a poor +artist and a poorer maiden. As the years go by the artist achieves +distinction, and the maiden becomes the wife of a millionaire +merchant--with very little romance in his composition, but thoroughly +devoted to his young and beautiful bride. + +Seven years later the artist (who has been received as a valued friend +of the family) is commissioned to paint the wife's portrait--and the +old love re-asserts itself. For a while the issue is problematical; +but stability of character conquers, and the ending is quite as the +heart would wish. + +The book also contains an article by the noted author, Ella Wheeler +Wilcox, pointing out the strong moral to be deduced. + +It contains 190 pages, printed in large, clear type on best quality of +book paper, with eight half-tone illustrations from the play. Price, +handsomely bound in cloth, 50 cents, net, postage 10 cents additional; +bound in paper covers, 25 cents, postpaid. + +For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail +upon receipt of price. + + * * * * * + +OGILVIE'S POPULAR COPYRIGHT LINE + +THE NEW MAYOR + +A Novel + +Founded upon GEORGE BROADHURST'S play + +The Man of the Hour + +Handsomely bound in cloth and stamped in colors, containing 250 pages +with twelve illustrations from the play + +Price 50 cents, net, postage 10 cents additional + +It has been issued under the title of THE NEW MAYOR, in order not to +conflict with a book published under the title, The Man of the Hour. + +Thousands of people have not had the opportunity of seeing the play, +and to them, as well as to those who have seen it, we desire to +announce that we are the authorized publishers of the Story of George +Broadhurst's Play in book form. There is already an enormous demand +for this book, owing to the fact that the play is meeting with such a +tremendous success, having been presented in New York for over six +hundred consecutive performances, with four companies on tour +throughout the United States. + +The play has received the highest praise and commendation from critics +and the press, a few of which we give herewith: + + "THE FINEST PLAY I EVER SAW."--Ex-President Roosevelt. + + "The best in years."--_N. Y. Telegram._ + + "A perfect success."--_N. Y. Sun._ + + "A triumph."--_N. Y. American._ + + "Best play yet."--_N. Y. Commercial._ + + "A sensation."--_N. Y. Herald._ + + "An apt appeal."--_N. Y Globe._ + + "A straight hit."--_N. Y. World._ + + "A play worth while."--_N. Y. News._ + + "Means something."--_N. Y. Tribune._ + + "An object lesson."--_N. Y. Post._ + +This novel is a strong story of politics, love, and graft, and appeals +powerfully to every true American. + +SENT BY MAIL, POSTAGE PAID, FOR 60 CENTS. + +Be sure to get the book founded on the play. + +You can buy this at any bookstore or direct from us. + + * * * * * + +THE BIG NOISE! THE LOUD SCREAM! THE TALL HOLLER! + +[Illustration] + +You Will Laugh, You Will Yell, + +You Will Scream at + +THE BLUNDERS OF + +A BASHFUL MAN + +The World's Champion + +Funny Book. + +READ IT! READ IT! READ IT! + +It eradicates wrinkles, banishes care, and by its laughter-compelling +mirth and irresistible humor rejuvenates the whole body. Whether you +are a bashful man or not, you should read + +THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN. + +In this screamingly funny volume the reader follows, with rapt +attention and hilarious delight, the mishaps, mortifications, +confusions, and agonizing mental and physical distresses of a +self-conscious, hypersensitive, appallingly bashful young man, in a +succession of astounding accidents, and ludicrous predicaments, that +convulse the reader with cyclonic laughter, causing him to hold both +sides for fear of exploding from an excess of uproarious merriment. + +All records beaten as a fun-maker, rib-tickler, and laugh-provoker. +This marvellous volume of merriment proves melancholy an impostor, and +grim care a joke. With joyous gales of mirth it dissipates gloom and +banishes trouble. + +YOU WANT IT! YOU CANNOT DO WITHOUT IT! + +Better Than Drugs! Better Than Vaudeville! + +A WHOLE CIRCUS IN ITSELF! + +The Time, the Place, the Opportunity is Here! + +BUY IT NOW! + +THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN contains 170 solid pages of reading +matter, illustrated, is bound in heavy lithographed paper covers, and +will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address on receipt of price, 25 +cents. Address orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +SYMPATHY AROUSED! SENTIMENT CULTIVATED! + +LONGING SATISFIED! + +LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT. + +[Illustration] + +By "THE DUCHESS." + +Author of "Molly Bawn," "The Honorable Mrs. Vereker," Etc. + +"The Duchess" is famous as an author of those stories which delight +the heart and mind of young women readers through the artistic +word-painting of scenes and incidents which arouse interest, stimulate +desire, and satisfy the appetite for mental diversion, recreation, +entertainment, and pleasure. + +LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT is no exception to her reputed ability; in fact, +in it she quite surpasses her own standard, and the reader follows +with breathless interest the vicissitudes and trials that mark the +course of this pure story of English life in which there are no less +than three love affairs going on at the same time. + +WITHOUT A PARALLEL IN INTEREST! + +ABOUNDING IN TENSE SITUATIONS! + +REPLETE WITH THRILLING INCIDENTS! + +TRUE TO LIFE! + +You read this book with delight, and finish it with a sigh! + +Now is the time to secure a copy! + +Don't delay, but buy and read this masterpiece of fiction! + +The book contains 310 solid pages of reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +THE SHADOW OF A CROSS. + +BY + +MRS. DORA NELSON + +AND + +F. C. HENDERSCHOTT. + +[Illustration] + +"The sweetest American story ever written," wrote one critic in +reviewing the story, which first appeared as a serial in a magazine of +large circulation. A strong inquiry for the novel in book form +developed, and we have just issued the book to meet this demand. + +The story is wholly American in sentiment, and every chapter appeals +to the reader's sympathies, as the whole book pulsates with pure and +cherished ideals. The love theme is sweet and intensely interesting. +Through the political fight, the victory and the defeat, the love +thread is never lost sight of. The intense struggle in the heart of +the heroine between her Church and her lover is of such deep human +interest, that it holds the reader in ardent sympathy until the happy +solution, when the reader smiles, wipes the moisture from the eyes, +and breathes happily again. + +While the narrative is intensely interesting, it is more; it instructs +and educates. To read it is to feel improved and delighted. Don't miss +this treat; it is one of the very best American stories of recent +years. + +The book is printed on best quality of laid book paper, contains +nearly 200 pages, and is bound in paper covers with handsome +illustration. It will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon +receipt of price, 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +LAUGH! YELL! SCREAM! + +Read It! Read It! Read It! + +A Bad + +Boy's Diary + +By "LITTLE GEORGIE," + +The Laughing Cyclone. + +[Illustration] + +THE FUNNIEST BOOK EVER WRITTEN! + +In this matchless volume of irresistible, rib-tickling fun, the Bad +Boy, an incarnate but lovable imp of mischief, records his daily +exploits, experiences, pranks and adventures, through all of which you +follow him with an absorbing interest that never flags, stopping only +when convulsions of laughter and aching sides force the mirth-swept +body to take an involuntary respite from a feast of fun, stupendous +and overwhelming. + +In the pages of this excruciatingly funny narrative can be found the +elixir of youth for all man and womankind. The magic of its pages +compel the old to become young, the careworn gay, and carking trouble +hides its gloomy head and flies away on the blithesome wings of +uncontrollable laughter. + +IT MAKES YOU A BOY AGAIN! + +IT MAKES LIFE WORTH WHILE! + +For old or young it is a tonic and sure cure for the blues. The BAD +BOY'S DIARY is making the whole world scream with laughter. Get in +line and laugh too. BUY IT TO-DAY! It contains 276 solid pages of +reading matter, illustrated, is bound in lithographed paper covers, +and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address on receipt of +price, 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +The World's Finger + +is the title of the most absorbing detective narrative ever written. + +[Illustration] + +One would not surmise from the title that such was the fact; but the +closing chapter of the book gives the clue to its meaning: "I swore to +my father on his death-bed that The World's Finger should never point +to a Davanant as amongst the list of known convicts, and that oath I +will keep." + +T. W. HANSHEW is the author, and a writer of more exciting and +sensational detective stories cannot be found at the present day. + +One reader writes: "I thought I would read a chapter or two of THE +WORLD'S FINGER, to see what it was all about. I soon found out, and it +was two o'clock in the morning before I lay it down, having read it to +the end at one sitting. It certainly is a corker." + +Bound in paper covers; price, 25 cents. Sent by mail to any address +upon receipt of price. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +STOP! HALT! ATTENTION! + +Read the most astounding and exciting love story of the age + +ONLY A + +GIRL'S LOVE + +BY + +CHARLES GARVICE. + +IT + +ENRAPTURES! ENTRANCES! + +THRILLS! DELIGHTS! + +[Illustration] + +In this intensely dramatic and thrilling love story, we watch with +bated breath the unfolding of a high life drama of absorbing interest. +Rank and wealth, pride and prejudice, vice and villainy, combine in a +desperate and determined effort to break off a romantic and thrilling +love match, the development, temporary rupture and final consummation +of which, by the genius of the author, we are, with spell-bound +interest, tense arteries and throbbing hearts privileged to witness. +This desperate attempt to halt the course of true love and dam the +well-springs of an ardent and romantic affection, will be watched by +the reader with a boundless and untiring interest. + +New Scenes! New Faces! New Features! New Thrills! + +SECURE THIS SUPERB NOVEL + +and learn for yourself the result of this astounding battle of true +love against terrific odds. + +FICTION LOVERS, NOVEL READERS, TAKE NOTICE! + +Just What You Are Looking For! + +A story that grips the heart and holds the reader spell-bound from +start to finish! + +A MENTAL FEAST, A LITERARY BANQUET! + +You Want It! You Cannot Do Without It! Buy It To-day! Now! + +The book contains 380 pages of solid reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover, printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +THRILLING! ABSORBING! DELIGHTFUL! + +The Story Sensation of the Year! + +A WOUNDED HEART + +BY + +CHARLES GARVICE, + +Author of "The Ashes of Love," "A Woman's Soul," Etc. + +It Grips! It Holds! It Thrills! + +[Illustration] + +By the magic pen of the author we are carried through the seductive +and intricate mazes of a thrilling and romantic life drama of +unparalleled interest. + +In beautiful England, sunny France, and distant Australia, we watch +the movements of life-like, splendidly drawn flesh and blood +characters, and follow their fortunes with a zealous devotion that +never flags. + +With breathless interest we witness the struggle for an ancestral +home, which finally passes into the possession of the scion of a noble +house, the rightful heir, Sir Herrick Powis, thanks to the sacrifices +of the heroine, than whom no more entrancing and beautiful character +exists in the whole range of modern fiction. The ending of the story +is, of course, a happy one, but this is not achieved until the +trusting heart of the heroine has been sorely wounded, and she has +passed through trials and tribulations, which win for her the love and +sympathy of the spell-bound reader. + +REPLETE WITH THRILLING INCIDENTS! + +Teeming With Heart Interest and Dramatic Action! + +NEW! NOVEL! UNIQUE! + +You Read this Book with Delight! You Lay It Down with a Sigh! + +BUY IT! BUY IT! BUY IT! TO-DAY! NOW! + +The book contains 400 pages of solid reading matter bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +Price, 25 Cents. + + * * * * * + +100 STORIES + +IN BLACK + +BY BRIDGES SMITH. + +Not in years, if ever, have we seen or read anything which approaches +the stories in this book for real, true depiction of character of the +Southern darkey of the present day. They are full of humor and +entertainment, and absolutely true to life both as to the incidents +related, and the language used. The latter is so true, in fact, that +our compositor who set the type for the book, said that he had never +before seen anything like the diction and spelling. + +The author held for some years the position of City Clerk in the +Mayor's Office of the City of Macon, Georgia, where opportunities were +presented for full and complete observation of the people in the world +of which he writes. + +The stories originally appeared in the "Macon Daily Telegraph," but +the demand for them in book form was so great that we have now issued +them in permanent binding. + +The book contains 320 pages with illustrations, and is bound in paper +covers with attractive and appropriate cover design. Retail price, 25 +cents. For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by +mail, postpaid, upon receipt of price. + + * * * * * + +THIS IS IT! IT!! IT!!! + +A WOMAN'S SOUL + +By CHARLES GARVICE. + +[Illustration] + +A Literary Sensation! + +A Matchless Masterpiece! + +The Big Noise of Fiction! + +A Story that Grips the Heart! + +A Story that Stirs the Soul! + +Guided by a master hand we watch with bated breath the unfolding of a +story of unparalleled interest. Ever the unexpected happens, surprise +follows surprise, plot is succeeded by counterplot. Vice and virtue, +honor and knavery, true love and duplicity, struggle desperately and +incessantly for mastery until the mind is bewildered and the heart and +soul are stirred to their very depths. + +Swept irresistibly along the seductive and entrancing streams of +romantic fiction, never for one instant is the reader's interest +allowed to flag. When almost exhausted with the thrilling nature of +the narrative, the end of this matchless story is reached, and it is +then with a sigh of regret the reader bids adieu to characters that +have woven themselves around his heart, and have become part and +parcel of his very life. + +UNPARALLELED AND UNSURPASSED! + +New, Novel, and Unconventional! + +AWAY FROM THE BEATEN TRACK OF FICTION! + +Classy! Unique! The Story of the Century! + +READ IT! BUY IT! JUDGE FOR YOURSELF! + +_PRICE, 25 CENTS._ + +A WOMAN'S SOUL contains 326 pages of solid reading matter, printed in +large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers with +attractive cover design in two colors. For sale by newsdealers and +booksellers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 +cents. + + * * * * * + +The Most Popular Book In + +America To-Day + +--IS-- + +"ST. ELMO," + +--BY-- + +AUGUSTA J. EVANS, + +[Illustration] + +The history of this Book is remarkable. It was first published nearly +45 years ago, and met with a fair measure of success; but it was not +until within the last three years that it achieved special prominence, +since which time over half a million copies have been sold. + +It is hard to account for this wonderful jump into popularity at the +present time, except for the fact that the story is one of real merit, +and is now doubly recognized as such. It is a mark of signal +distinction for the author, to think that she wrote a story so much +ahead of the times. + +The story is founded upon the never-old theme of love--the pure love +of a good woman--and shows the wonders that can be accomplished with +and through it, even to the extent of the reclamation of an extremely +talented and extraordinary man having a predilection for evil and sin. + +No story written in years has aroused the discussion that this book +has. + +Can you afford to miss it? + +Do you want to keep abreast of the times, and read what other people +are talking about? Then buy and read "ST. ELMO." + +The book contains 440 pages, bound in paper cover. For sale by +booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, +upon receipt of price, 25 CENTS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +DON'T MISS IT! DON'T MISS IT!! DON'T MISS IT!!! + +=FATE= + +By CHARLES GARVICE, + +Regal Ruler of the Resplendent + +Realm of Romance. + +Tremendous in its Interest. + +Weird and Witchingly Fascinating in Plot and Action. + +Tense In Its Astounding Situations. + +It Grips! Amazes!! Thrills!!! + +IT TUGS AT THE HEART STRINGS AND HOLDS ONE + +CAPTIVE FROM COVER TO COVER. + +In this astounding story of unparalleled interest, we see the sinister +figure of FATE stalk deviously but relentlessly through the mystifying +mazes of love, devotion, intrigue, cunning, cruelty and crime, until a +conscienceless fiend, in human shape, lies prostrate in death, +overwhelmed by the ruthless forces of his own creating. + +Right, truth, justice and love dashed to earth by desperate villainy +and inconceivable cunning, finally triumph in the face of crimes that +crush, and difficulties that overwhelm. + +The reader breathes a sigh of relief that hero and heroine, who have +wound themselves about his heart, are once more happily united, and +that + +LOVE, THE CONQUEROR, WINS AT LAST. + +This story of love, passion, mystery and revenge, makes the sluggish +blood course wildly through every artery of the spell-bound frame. + +It awakens every emotion of the human heart, and sweeps the vibrant +chords of sympathy and compassion. The book you need. The book you +must have. To-day! Now!! Here!!! + +PRICE, 25 CENTS. + +"Fate" contains over 450 pages of solid reading matter, printed in +large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers with +attractive cover design in two colors. It is for sale by newsdealers +and booksellers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +VAIL'S DREAM BOOK + +AND + +COMPLETE FORTUNE TELLER + +By J. R. & A. M. VAIL + +You dream like everyone else does, but can you interpret them--do you +understand what your dream portends? If you wish to know what it +means, you should buy this book, which contains the full and correct +interpretation of all dreams and their lucky numbers. This book is +also the most complete fortune teller on the market. + +We give herewith a partial list of the contents: + +Dreams and Their Interpretations. + +Palmistry, or Telling Fortunes by the Lines of the Hand. + +Fortune Telling by the Grounds in a Tea or Coffee Cup. + +How to Read Your Fortunes by the White of an Egg. + +How to Determine the Lucky and Unlucky Days of any Month in the Year. + +How to Ascertain Whether You will Marry Soon. + +Fortune Telling by Cards, including the Italian Method. + +A Chapter on Somniloquism and Spiritual Mediums. + +The book contains 128 pages, size 7-5/8 x 5-1/4 set in new, large, +clear type, and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon +receipt of 25 cents. For sale where you bought this book. + + * * * * * + +LOVE--COURTSHIP--MARRIAGE. + +[Illustration] + +This is the newest and most up-to-date book on these subjects. It +explains how girls may become happy wives, bachelors become happy +husbands. It includes a treatise on "The Etiquette of Marriage," +describing invitations, the dresses, the ceremony, and the proper +behavior of bride and groom. + +In addition to the above there is a most brilliant editorial entitled +"The Real Divorce Question"; also an article giving statistics, dates, +etc., entitled "Alarming Growth of the Divorce Evil," by the +well-known writer, Rev. Thomas B. Gregory; and, lastly, an editorial +entitled "Woman's Dignity," which should be read by every woman in the +country. If the young people of this country would read and study +these serious subjects before marriage the now-popular divorce would +soon become a thing of the past. Remember, from some one little thing +in this book you may be spared a life of misery. 125 pages, paper +bound; postpaid, 25 cents. + +LOVE AND COURTSHIP CARDS. + +Sparking, Courting, and Love-making made easy with these cards. They +are arranged with such apt conversation that you will be able to find +out whether a girl loves you or not without her even thinking that you +are doing so. These cards may be used by two persons only, or they can +be used to entertain an evening party of young people. There are sixty +cards in all, and each answer will respond differently to every one of +the questions. Sent by mail, postpaid, for 30 cents. + +Either of the above will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price by J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 57 Rose Street, New York. + + * * * * * + +JUST OUT + +TEMPTATIONS OF THE STAGE. + +There is probably no other book of this kind on the market that tells +so much truth from Stage Life as does this one. If there is, we do not +know of it. We herewith give the contents and leave you to draw your +own conclusions:-- + +[Illustration] + +Ever in the Limelight. + +"Propinquity" _versus_ "Association." + +Flattery. + +See How it Sparkles. + +Gambling--Drugs. + +Dangerous Pitfalls on the Road to Success. + +My Narrow Escape. _By Della Fox._ + +Girls in Burlesque Companies. _By May Howard._ + +A Nation at Her Feet. _By Pauline Markham._ + +Jane Hading's Career. _By Herself._ + +A Woman's Blighted Life. _By Jennie O'Neill Potter._ + +Cigarette Smoking. + +A Unique Sensation. _By Nina Farrington._ + +Yvette Guilbert's Songs. + +A Tragic End. + +Triumphs and Failures. _By Isabelle Urquhart._ + +A Mad Career. + +Likes to Wear Tights. _By Jessie Bartlett Davis._ + +Jolly Jennie Joyce. + +Thorns of Stage Life. _By Maud Gregory._ + +The Stage is Not Degenerating. _By Eva Mudge._ + +Ethics of Stage Morality. _By Jessie Olivier._ + +Stage-Door Johnnies. + +The Pace That Kills. + +Cure For the Stage Struck. + +Stage Love Letters. _Mlle. Fougere._ + +Stock Companies. + +From Tights to Tea Parties. + +In Other Walks. + +The above book contains 128 pages, bound in paper cover handsomely +illustrated in colors, and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any +address upon receipt of 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +OLD WITCHES' DREAM BOOK + +AND + +COMPLETE FORTUNE TELLER. + +You dream like everyone else does, but can you interpret them--do you +understand what your dream portends? If you wish to know what it +means, you should buy this book, which contains the full and correct +interpretation of all dreams and their lucky numbers. This book is +also the most complete fortune teller on the market. + +We give herewith a partial list of the contents: + +Dreams and Their Interpretations. + +Palmistry, or Telling Fortunes by the Lines of the Hand. + +Fortune Telling by the Grounds in a Tea or Coffee Cup. + +How to Read Your Fortune by the White of an Egg. + +How to Determine the Lucky and Unlucky Days of any Month in the Year. + +How to Ascertain Whether You will Marry Soon. + +Fortune Telling by Cards, Including the Italian Method. + +The book contains 128 pages, set in new, large, clear type, and will +be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon receipt of 25 cents in +U. S. stamps or postal money order. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P. O. Box 767. 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blunders of a Bashful Man, by +Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 20754-8.txt or 20754-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/5/20754/ + +Produced by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Blunders of a Bashful Man + +Author: Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +Release Date: March 6, 2007 [EBook #20754] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">The author of this book is Metta Victoria Fuller Victor writing under the <br /> +Pen name of Walter T. Gray. But the Author's name is not given in the original text.</p> + +<p class="center">The Table of Contents is not part of the original text.</p></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img class="img1" src="images/cover.jpg" width="500" height="738" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + +<p> </p> + +<h2>THE BLUNDERS</h2> + + <h4>OF A</h4> + + <h1>BASHFUL MAN. + </h1> + <p> </p> + <p> </p> + <h4><i>By the Author of</i></h4> +<h2>“A BAD BOY'S DIARY”</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1881, by Street & Smith.</span></h4> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<h4><span class="smcap">New York:</span></h4> + <h3>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY.</h3> + <h4><span class="smcap">57 Rose Street.</span></h4> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS + + +</h2> + +<table summary="Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tocch f4">CHAPTER</td> + <td> </td> + + <td class="tocpg f4">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">I.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">HE ATTENDS A PICNIC.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">II.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">HE MAKES AN EVENING CALL.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">III.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">GOES TO A TEA-PARTY.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">IV.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">HE DOES HIS DUTY AS A CITIZEN.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">V.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">HE COMMITS SUICIDE.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">VI.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">HE IS DOOMED FOR WORSE ACCIDENTS.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">VII.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">VIII.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">HE ENACTS THE PART OF GROOMSMAN.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">IX.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">MEETS A PAIR OF BLUE EYES.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">X.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">HE CATCHES A TROUT AND PRESENTS IT TO A LADY.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XI.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">HE GOES TO THE CIRCUS.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XII.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">A LEAP FOR LIFE.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XIII.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">ONE OF THE FAIR SEX COMES TO HIS RESCUE.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XIV.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XV.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XVI.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XVII.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XVIII.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tocch">XIX.</td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">DRIVEN FROM HIS LAST DEFENCE.</a></td> + <td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td> + </tr> +</table> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE</h3> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Blunders of a Bashful Man</span>.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>HE ATTENDS A PICNIC.</h3> + + +<p>I have been, am now, and shall always be, a bashful man. I have been +told that I am the only bashful man in the world. How that is I can +not say, but should not be sorry to believe that it is so, for I am of +too generous a nature to desire any other mortal to suffer the mishaps +which have come to me from this distressing complaint. A person can +have smallpox, scarlet fever, and measles but once each. He can even +become so inoculated with the poison of bees and mosquitoes as to make +their stings harmless; and he can gradually accustom himself to the +use of arsenic until he can take 444 grains safely; but for +bashfulness—like mine—there is no first and only attack, no becoming +hardened to the thousand petty stings, no saturation of one's being +with the poison until it loses its power.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p><p>I am a quiet, nice-enough, inoffensive young gentleman, now rapidly +approaching my twenty-sixth year. It is unnecessary to state that I am +unmarried. I should have been wedded a great many times, had not some +fresh attack of my malady invariably, and in some new shape, attacked +me in season to prevent the "consummation devoutly to be wished." When +I look back over twenty years of suffering through which I have +literally stumbled my way—over the long series of embarrassments and +mortifications which lie behind me—I wonder, with a mild and patient +wonder, why the Old Nick I did not commit suicide ages ago, and thus +end the eventful history with a blank page in the middle of the book. +I dare say the very bashfulness which has been my bane has prevented +me; the idea of being cut down from a rafter, with a black-and-blue +face, and drawn out of the water with a swollen one, has put me so out +of countenance that I had not the courage to brave a coroner's jury +under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>Life to me has been a scramble through briers. I do not recall one +single day wholly free from the scratches inflicted on a cruel +sensitiveness. I will not mention those far-away agonies of boyhood, +when the teacher punished me by making me sit with the girls, but will +hasten on to a point that stands out vividly against a dark background +of accidents. I was nineteen. My sentiments toward that part of +creation known as "young ladies" were, at that time, of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> mingled and +contradictory nature. I adored them as angels; I dreaded them as if +they were mad dogs, and were going to bite me.</p> + +<p>My parents were respected residents of a small village in the western +part of the State of New York. I had been away at a boys' academy for +three years, and returned about the first of June to my parents and to +Babbletown to find that I was considered a young man, and expected to +take my part in the business and pleasures of life as such. My father +dismissed his clerk and put me in his place behind the counter of our +store.</p> + +<p>Within three days every girl in that village had been to that store +after something or another—pins, needles, a yard of tape, to look at +gloves, to <i>try on shoes</i>, or examine gingham and calico, until I was +happy, because out of sight, behind a pile high enough to hide my +flushed countenance. I shall never forget that week. I ran the +gauntlet from morning till night. I believe those heartless wretches +told each other the mistakes I made, for they kept coming and coming, +looking as sweet as honey and as sly as foxes. Father said I'd break +him if I didn't stop making blunders in giving change—he wasn't in +the prize-candy business, and couldn't afford to have me give +twenty-five sheets of note paper, a box of pens, six corset laces, a +bunch of whalebones, and two dollars and fifty cents change for a +two-dollar bill.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p>He explained to me that the safety-pins which I had offered Emma Jones +for crochet-needles were <i>not</i> crochet-needles; nor the red wafers I +had shown Mary Smith for gum-drops, gum-drops—that gingham was not +three dollars per yard, nor pale-blue silk twelve-and-a-half cents, +even to Squire Marigold's daughter. He said I must be more careful.</p> + +<p>"I don't think the mercantile business is my <i>forte</i>, father," said I.</p> + +<p>"Your fort!" replied the old gentleman; "fiddlesticks! We have nothing +to do with military matters. But if you think you have a special call +to anything, John, speak out. Would you like to study for the +ministry, my son?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, indeed! I don't know exactly what I would like, unless it +were to be a Juan Fernandez, or a—a light-house keeper."</p> + +<p>Then father said I was a disgrace to him, and I knew I was.</p> + +<p>On the fourth day some young fellows came to see me, and told me there +was to be a picnic on Saturday, and I must get father's horse and +buggy and take one of the girls. In vain I pleaded that I did not know +any of them well enough. They laughed at me, and said that Belle +Marigold had consented to go with me; that I knew her—she had been in +the store and bought some blue silk for twelve-and-a-half cents a +yard; and they rather thought she fancied me, she seemed so ready to +accept my escort; should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> they tell her I would call for her at ten +o'clock, sharp, on Saturday morning?</p> + +<p>There was no refusing under the circumstances, and I said "yes" with +the same gaiety with which I would have signed my own death-warrant. +Yet I wanted to go to the picnic, dreadfully; and of all the young +ladies in Babbletown I preferred Belle Marigold. She was the +handsomest and most stylish girl in the county. Her eyes were large, +black, and mischievous; her mouth like a rose; she dressed prettily, +and had an elegant little way of tossing back her dark ringlets that +was fascinating even at first sight. I was told my doom on Thursday +afternoon, and do not think I slept any that or Friday night—am +positive I did not Saturday night. I wanted to go and I wanted to take +that particular girl, yet I was in a cold sweat at the idea. I would +have given five dollars to be let off, and I wouldn't have taken +fifteen for my chance to go. I asked father if I could have the horse +and buggy, and if he would tend store. I hoped he would say No; but +when he said Yes, I was delighted.</p> + +<p>"I'll take the opportunity when you are at the picnic to get the +accounts out of the quirks you've got 'em into," said he.</p> + +<p>Well, Saturday came. As I opened my eyes my heart jumped into my +throat. "I've got to go through with it now if it kills me," I +thought.</p> + +<p>Mother asked me why I ate no breakfast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Saving my appetite for the picnic," I responded, cheerfully; which +was one of the white lies my miserable bashfulness made me tell every +day of my life—I knew that I should go dinner-less at the picnic +unless I could get behind a tree with my plate of goodies.</p> + +<p>I never to this day can abide to eat before strangers; things <i>always</i> +go by my windpipe instead of my æsophagus, and I'm tired to death of +scalding my legs with hot tea, to say nothing of adding to one's +embarrassment to have people asking if one has burned oneself, and +feeling that one has broken a cup out of a lady's best china tea-set. +But about tea and tea-parties I shall have more to say hereafter. I +must hurry on to my first picnic, where I made my first public +appearance as the Bashful Man.</p> + +<p>I made a neat toilet—a fresh, light summer suit that I flattered +myself beat any other set of clothes in Babbletown—ordered Joe, our +chore-boy, to bring the buggy around in good order, with everything +shining; and when he had done so, had the horse tied in front of the +store.</p> + +<p>"Come, my boy," said father, after a while, "it's ten minutes to ten. +Never keep the ladies waiting."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; as soon as I've put these raisins away."</p> + +<p>"Five minutes to ten, John. Don't forget the lemons."</p> + +<p>"No, sir." But I <i>did</i> forget them in my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> trepidation, and a man had +to be sent back for them afterward.</p> + +<p>It was just ten when I stepped into the buggy with an attempt to +appear in high spirits. As I drove slowly toward Squire Marigold's +large mansion on Main Street, I met dozens of gay young folks on the +way out of town, some of them calling out that I would be late, and to +try and catch up with them after I got my girl.</p> + +<p>As I came in sight of the house my courage failed. I turned off on a +by-street, drove around nearly half a mile, and finally approached the +object of my dread from another direction. I do believe I should have +passed the house after I got to it had I not seen a vision of pink +ribbons, white dress, and black eyes at the window, and realized that +I was observed. So I touched the horse with the whip, drove up with a +flourish, and before I had fairly pulled up at the block, Belle was at +the door, with a servant behind her carrying a hamper.</p> + +<p>"You are late, Mr. Flutter," she called out, half gayly, half crossly.</p> + +<p>I arose from the seat, flung down the reins, and leaped out, like a +flying-fish out of the water, to hand the beautiful apparition in. In +my nervousness I did not observe how I placed the lines, my foot +became entangled in them, I was brought up in the most unexpected +manner, landing on the pavement on my new hat instead of the soles of +my boots.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>This was not only embarrassing, but positively painful. There was a +bump on my forehead, the rim of my hat was crushed, my new suit was +soiled, my knee ached like Jericho, and there was a rent in my +pantaloons right opposite where my knee hurt.</p> + +<p>Belle tittered, the colored girl stuffed her apron in her mouth, and +said "hi! hi!" behind it. I would have given all I had in life to give +if I could have started on an exploring expedition for China just +then, but I couldn't. The pavement was not constructed with reference +to swallowing up bashful young men who wanted to be swallowed.</p> + +<p>"I hope you are not hurt, Mr. Flutter, te-he?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all, not in the least; it never hurts me to fall. It was +those constricted reins, they caught my foot. Does the basket go with +us? I mean the servant. No, I don't, I mean the basket—does she go +with us?"</p> + +<p>"The hamper does, Mr. Flutter, or we should be minus sandwiches. Jane, +put the hamper in."</p> + +<p>Miss Marigold was in the buggy before I had straightened my hat-rim.</p> + +<p>"I hope your horse is a fast one; we shall be late," she remarked, as +I took my place by her side. "Here is a pin, Mr. Flutter; you can pin +up that tear."</p> + +<p>I was glad she asked me to let the horse go at full speed; it was the +most soothing thing which could happen at that time. As he flew along +I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> could affect to be busy with the cares of driving, and so escape +the trials of conversation. I spoke to my lovely companion only three +times in the eight miles between her house and the grove. The first +time I remarked, "We are going to have a warm day"; the second, "I +think the day will be quite warm"; the third time I launched out +boldly: "Don't you think, Miss Marigold, we shall have it rather warm +about noon?"</p> + +<p>"You seem to feel the heat more than I do," she answered, demurely, +which was true, for she looked as cool as a cucumber and as +comfortable as a mouse in a cheese, while I was mopping my face every +other minute with my handkerchief.</p> + +<p>When we reached the picnic grounds she offered to hold the reins while +I got out. As I lifted her down, the whole company, who had been +watching for our arrival, burst out laughing. Miss Belle looked at me +and burst out laughing, too.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" I stammered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," said she; "only you dusted your clothes with your +handkerchief after you fell, and now you've wiped your face with it, +and it's all streaked up as if you'd been making mud pies, and your +hat's a little out of shape, and—"</p> + +<p>"You look as if you'd been on a bender," added the fellow who had +induced me to come to the confounded affair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I guess I can wash my face," I retorted, a little mad. "I've +met with an accident, that's all. Just wait until I've tied my horse."</p> + +<p>There was a pond close by—part of the programme of the picnic was to +go out rowing on the pond—and as soon as I had fastened my horse, I +went down to the bank and stooped over to wash my face, and the bank +gave way and I pitched headlong into twelve feet of water.</p> + +<p>I was not scared, for I could swim, but I was puzzled as to how to +enjoy a picnic in my wet clothes. I wanted to go home, but the boys +said:</p> + +<p>"No—I must walk about briskly and let my things dry on me—the day +was so warm I wouldn't take cold."</p> + +<p>So I walked about briskly, all by myself, for about two hours, while +the rest of them were having a good time. Then some one asked where +the lemons were that I was to bring, and I had to confess that they +were at home in the store, and dinner was kept waiting another two +hours while a man took my horse and went for those lemons. I walked +about all the time he was gone, and was dry enough by the time the +lemonade was made to wish I had some. But the water had shrunk my +clothes so that the legs of my pantaloons and the arms of my coat were +about six inches too short, while my boots, which had been rather +tight in the first place, made my feet feel as if they were in a +red-hot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> iron vise. I couldn't face all those giggling girls, and I +got down behind a tree and the tears came in my eyes, I felt so +miserable.</p> + +<p>Belle was a tease, but she wasn't heartless; she got two plates, +heaped with nice things, and two tumblers of lemonade, and sat down by +my side coaxing me to eat, and telling me how sorry she was that I had +had my pleasure destroyed by an accident.</p> + +<p>I had a piece of spring chicken, but being too bashful to masticate it +properly, I attempted to swallow it whole. It stuck!—she had to pat +me on the back—I became purple and kicked about wildly, ruining her +new sash by upsetting both plates. She became seriously alarmed, and +ran for aid; two of the fellows stood me on my head and pounded the +soles of my feet, by which wise course the morsel was dislodged, and +"Richard was himself again."</p> + +<p>After the excitement had partially subsided, the punster of the +village—there is always one punster in every community—broke out +with:</p> + +<p>"Oh, swallow, swallow, flying South, fly to her and tell her what I +tell to thee."</p> + +<p>The girls laughed; I looked and saw Belle trying to wipe the ice-cream +from her sash.</p> + +<p>"Never mind the sash, Miss Marigold," I said, in desperation, "I'll +send you another to-morrow. But if you'll excuse me, I'll go home now. +I'm not well, and mother'll be alarmed about me—I ought not to have +left father alone to tend store,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> and I feel that I've taken cold. I +presume some of these folks will have a spare seat, and my boots have +shrunk, and I don't care for picnics as a general thing, anyway. My +clothes are shrinking all the time, and I think we're going to have a +thunder-shower, and I guess I'll go."—and I went.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>HE MAKES AN EVENING CALL.</h3> + + +<p>It's very provoking to a bashful man to have the family pew only one +remove from the pulpit. I didn't feel like going to church the day +after the picnic, but father wouldn't let me off. I caught my foot in +a hole in the carpet walking up the aisle, which drew particular +attention to me; and dropped by hymn-book twice, to add to the +interest I had already excited in the congregation. My fingers are +always all thumbs when I have to find the hymn.</p> + +<p>"I do believe you did take cold yesterday," said mother, when we came +out. "You must have a fever, for your face is as red as fire."</p> + +<p>Very consoling when a young man wants to look real sweet. But that's +my luck. I'll be as pale as a poet when I leave my looking-glass, but +before I enter a ball-room or a dining-room I'll be as red as an +alderman. I have often wished that I could be permanently whitewashed, +like a kitchen wall or a politician's record. I think, perhaps, if I +were whitewashed for a month or two I might cure myself of my habit of +blushing when I enter a room. I bought a box of "Meen Fun" once, and +tried to powder; but I guess I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> didn't understand the art as well as +the women do; it was mean fun in good earnest, for the girl I was +going to take to singing-school wanted to know if I'd been helping my +ma make biscuits for supper; and then she took her handkerchief and +brushed my face, which wasn't so bad as it might have been, for her +handkerchief had patchouly on it and was as soft as silk. But that +wasn't Belle Marigold, and so it didn't matter.</p> + +<p>To return to church. I went again in the evening, and felt more at +home, for the kerosene was not very bright. I got along without any +accident. After meeting was out, father stopped to speak to the +minister. As I stood in the entry, waiting for him, Belle came out, +and asked me how I felt after the picnic. I saw she was alone, and so +I hemmed, and said: "Have you any one to see you home?"</p> + +<p>She said, "No; but I'm not afraid—it's not far," and stopped and +waited for me to offer her my arm, looking up at me with those +bewitching eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said I, dying to wait upon her, but not daring to crook my elbow +before the crowd, "I'm glad of that; but if you are the least bit +timid, Miss Marigold, father and I will walk home with you."</p> + +<p>Then I heard a suppressed laugh behind me, and, turning, saw that +detestable Fred Hencoop, who never knew what it was to feel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> modest +since the day his nurse tied his first bib on him.</p> + +<p>"Miss Marigold," said he, looking as innocent as a lamb, "if you do me +the honor to accept my arm, I'll try and take you home without calling +on my pa to assist me in the arduous duty." And she went with him.</p> + +<p>I was very low-spirited on the way home.</p> + +<p>"As sure as I live I'll go and call on her to-morrow evening, and show +her I'm not the fool she thinks I am," I said, between my gritted +teeth. "I'll take her a new sash to replace the one I spoiled at the +picnic, and we'll see who's the best fellow, Hencoop or I."</p> + +<p>The next afternoon I measured off four yards of the sweetest +sash-ribbon ever seen in Babbletown, and charged myself with seven +dollars—half my month's salary, as agreed upon between father and +me—and rolled up the ribbon in white tissue paper, preparatory to the +event of the evening.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" father asked, as I edged out of the store just +after dark.</p> + +<p>"Oh, up the street a piece."</p> + +<p>"Well, here's a pair o' stockings to be left at the Widow Jones'. Just +call as you go by and leave 'em, will you?"</p> + +<p>I stuck the little bundle he gave me in my coat-tail pocket; but by +the time I passed the Widow Jones' house I was so taken up with the +business on hand that I forgot all about the stockings.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>I could see Miss Marigold sitting at the piano and hear her singing as +I passed the window. It was awful nice, and, to prolong the pleasure, +I stayed outside about half an hour, then a summer shower came up, and +I made up my mind and rang the bell. Jane came to the door.</p> + +<p>"Is the squire at home?" says I.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, he's down to the hotel; but Miss Marigold, she's to hum," +said the black girl, grinning. "Won't you step in? Miss will be +dreffle sorry her pa is out."</p> + +<p>She took my hat and opened the parlor door; there was a general +dazzle, and I bowed to somebody and sat down somewhere, and in about +two minutes the mist cleared away, and I saw Belle Marigold, with a +rose in her hair, sitting not three feet away, and smiling at me as if +coaxing me to say something.</p> + +<p>"Quite a shower?" I remarked.</p> + +<p>"Indeed—is it raining?" said she.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said I; "it came up very sudden."</p> + +<p>"I hope you didn't get wet?" said she, with a sly look.</p> + +<p>"Not this time," said I, trying to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Does it lighten?" said she.</p> + +<p>"A few," said I.</p> + +<p>Miss Marigold coughed and looked out of the window. There was a pause +in our brilliant conversation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think we shall have a rainy night," I resumed.</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>so</i> afraid of thunder," said she. "I shall not sleep a bit if it +thunders. I shall sit up until the rain is over. I never like to be +alone in a storm. I always want some one <i>close by me</i>," she said, +with a little shiver.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_027.jpg" width="600" height="567" alt=""I'M SO FRIGHTENED, MR. FLUTTER," SAID SHE; "I FEEL, IN +MOMENTS LIKE THESE, HOW SWEET IT WOULD BE TO HAVE SOME ONE TO CLING +TO."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I'M SO FRIGHTENED, MR. FLUTTER," SAID SHE; "I FEEL, IN +MOMENTS LIKE THESE, HOW SWEET IT WOULD BE TO HAVE SOME ONE TO CLING +TO."</span> +</div> + +<p>I hitched my chair about a foot nearer hers. It thundered pretty loud, +and she gave a little squeal, and brought her chair alongside mine.</p> + +<p>"I'm so frightened, Mr. Flutter," said she:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> "I feel, in moments like +these, how sweet it would be to have someone to cling to."</p> + +<p>And she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.</p> + +<p>"Dear Belle," said I, "would you—would you—could you—now—"</p> + +<p>"What?" whispered she, very softly.</p> + +<p>"If I thought," I stammered, "that you could—that you would—that it +was handy to give me a drink of water." She sprang up as if shot, and +rang a little hand-bell.</p> + +<p>"Jane, a glass of water for this gentleman—<i>ice</i>-water," in a very +chilly tone, and she sat down over by the piano.</p> + +<p>Bashful fool and idiot that I was. I had lost another opportunity.</p> + +<p>After I had swallowed the water Jane had left the room. I bethought me +of the handsome present which I had in my pocket, and, hoping to +regain her favor by that, I drew out the little package and tossed it +carelessly in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Belle," said I, "I have not forgotten that I spilled lemonade on your +sash; I hope you will not refuse to allow me to make such amends as +are in my power. If the color does not suit you, I will exchange it +for any you may select."</p> + +<p>She began to smile again, coquettishly untying the string and +unwrapping the paper. Instead of the lovely rose-colored ribbon, out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +rolled a long pair of coarse blue cotton stockings.</p> + +<p>Miss Marigold screamed louder than she had at the thunder.</p> + +<p>"It's all a mistake!" I cried; "a ridiculous mistake! I beg your +pardon ten thousand times! They are for the Widow Jones. <i>Here</i> is +what I intended for <i>you</i>, dear, dear Belle," and I thrust another +package into heir hands.</p> + +<p>"Fine-cut!" said she, examining the wrapper by the light of the lamp +on the piano. "Do you think I chew, Mr. Flutter?—or <i>dip</i>? Do you +intend to willfully insult me? Leave the hou——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg of you, listen! Here it is at last!" I exclaimed in +desperation, drawing out the right package at last, and myself +displaying to her dazzled view the four yards of glittering ribbon. +"There's not another in Babbletown so handsome. Wear it for <i>my sake</i>, +Belle!"</p> + +<p>"I will," she sighed, after she had secretly rubbed it, and held it to +the light to make sure of its quality. "I will, John, for your sake."</p> + +<p>We were friends again; she was very sweet, and played something on the +piano, and an hour slipped away as if I were in Paradise. I rose to +go, the rain being over.</p> + +<p>"But about that paper of fine-cut!" she said, archly, as she went into +the hall with me to get my hat; "do you chew, John?"</p> + +<p>"No, Belle, that tobacco was for old man Per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>kins, as sure as I stand +here. If you don't believe me, smell my breath," said I, and I tried +to get my arm about her waist.</p> + +<p>It was kind of dark in the hall; she did not resist so very much; my +lips were only about two inches from hers—for I wanted her to be sure +about my breath—when a voice that almost made me faint away, put a +conundrum to me:</p> + +<p>"If you'd a kissed my girl, young man, why would it have been like a +Centennial fire-arm?"</p> + +<p>"Because it hasn't gone off yet!" I gasped, reaching for my hat.</p> + +<p>"Wrong," said he grimly. "Because it would have been a blunder-buss."</p> + +<p>I reckon the squire was right.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>GOES TO A TEA-PARTY.</h3> + + +<p>The Widow Jones got her stockings the next day. As I left them at the +door she stuck her head out of an upper window and said to me that +"the sewing society met at her house on Thursday afternoon, and the +men-folks was coming to tea and to spend the evening, and I must be +<i>sure</i> an' come, or the girls would be <i>so</i> disappointed," and she +urged and urged until I had to promise her I would attend her +sociable.</p> + +<p>Drat all tea-parties! say I. I was never comfortable at one in my +life. If you'd give me my choice between going to a tea-party and +picking potato-bugs off the vines all alone on a hot summer day, I +shouldn't hesitate a moment between the two. I should choose the bugs; +and I can't say I fancy potato-bugs, either.</p> + +<p>On Wednesday I nearly killed an old lady, putting up tartar-emetic for +cream-tartar. If she'd eaten another biscuit made with it she'd have +died and I'd have been responsible—and father was really vexed and +said I might be a light-house keeper as quick as I pleased; but by +that time I felt as if I couldn't keep a light-house without Belle +Marigold to help me, and so I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> promised to be more careful, and kept +on clerking.</p> + +<p>The thermometer stood at eighty degrees in the shade when I left the +store at five o'clock Thursday afternoon to go to that infallible +tea-party. I was glad the day was warm, for I wanted to wear my white +linen suit, with a blue cravat and Panama hat. I felt independent even +of Fred Hencoop, as I walked along the street under the shade of the +elms; but, the minute I was inside Widow Jones' gate and walking up to +the door, the thermometer went up to somewhere near 200 degrees. There +were something like a dozen heads at each of the parlor windows, and +all women's heads at that. Six or eight more were peeping out of the +sitting-room, where they were laying the table for tea. Babbletown +always did seem to me to have more than its fair share of female +population. I think I would like to live in one of those mining towns +out in Colorado, where women are as scarce as hairs on the inside of a +man's hand. Somebody coughed as I was going up the walk. Did you ever +have a girl cough at you?—one of those mean, teasing, expressive +little coughs?</p> + +<p>I had practiced—at home in my own room—taking off my Panama with a +graceful, sweeping bow, and saying in calm, well-bred tones: +"Good-evening, Mrs. Jones. Good-evening, ladies. I trust you have had +a pleasant as well as profitable afternoon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>I had <i>practiced</i> that in the privacy of my chamber. What I really did +get off was something like this:</p> + +<p>"Good Jones, Mrs. Evening. I should say, good-evening, widows—ladies, +I beg your pardon," by which time I was mopping my forehead with my +handkerchief, and could just ask, as I sank into the first chair I +saw, "Is your mother well, Mrs. Jones?" which was highly opportune, +since said mother had been years dead before I was born. As I sat +down, a pang sharper than some of those endured by the Spartans ran +through my right leg. I was instantly aware that I had plumped down on +a needle, as well as a piece of fancy-work, but I had not the courage +to rise and extract the excruciating thing.</p> + +<p>I turned pale with pain, but by keeping absolutely still I found that +I could endure it, and so I sat motionless, like a wooden man, with a +frozen smile on my features.</p> + +<p>Belle was out in the other room helping set the table, for which +mitigating circumstances I was sufficiently thankful.</p> + +<p>Fred Hencoop was on the other side of the room holding a skein of silk +for Sallie Brown. He looked across at me, smiling with a malice which +made me hate him.</p> + +<p>Out of that hate was born a stern resolve—I would conquer my +diffidence; I would prove to Fred Hencoop, and any other fellow like +him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> that I was as good as he was, and could at least equal him in +the attractions of my sex.</p> + +<p>There was a pretty girl sitting quite near me. I had been introduced +to her at the picnic. It seemed to me that she was eyeing me +curiously, but I was mad enough at Fred to show him that I could be as +cool as anybody, after I got used to it. I hemmed, wiped the +perspiration from my face—caused now more by the needle than by the +heat—and remarked, sitting stiff as a ramrod and smiling like an +angel:</p> + +<p>"June is my favorite month, Miss Smith—is it yours? When I think of +June I always think of strawberries and cream and ro-oh-oh-ses!"</p> + +<p>It was the needle. I had forgotten in the excitement of the subject +and had moved.</p> + +<p>"<i>Is</i> anything the matter?" Miss Smith tenderly inquired.</p> + +<p>"Nothing in the world, Miss Smith. I had a stitch in my side, but it +is over now."</p> + +<p>"Stitches are very painful," she observed, sympathizingly. "I don't +like to trouble you, Mr. Flutter, but I think, I believe, I guess you +are sitting on my work. If you will rise, I will try and finish it +before tea."</p> + +<p>No help for it, and I arose, at the same moment dexterously slipping +my hand behind me and withdrawing the thorn in the flesh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, where is my needle?" said the young lady, anxiously +scrutinizing the crushed worsted-work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> + +<p>I gave it to her with a blush. She burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder you had a stitch in your side," she remarked, shyly.</p> + +<p>"Hem!" observed Fred very loud, "do you feel sew-sew, John?"</p> + +<p>Just then Belle entered the parlor, looking as sweet as a pink, and +wearing the sash I had given her. She bowed to me very coquettishly +and announced tea.</p> + +<p>"Too bad!" continued Fred; "you have broken the thread of Mr. +Flutter's discourse with Miss Smith. But I do not wish to inflict +<i>needle</i>-less pain, so I will not betray him."</p> + +<p>"I hope Mr. Flutter is not in trouble again," said Belle quickly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Fred is only trying to say something <i>sharp</i>," said I.</p> + +<p>"Come with me; I will take care of you, Mr. Flutter," said Belle, +taking my arm and marching me out into the sitting-room, where a long +table was heaped full of inviting eatables. She sat me down by her +side, and I felt comparatively safe. But Fred and Miss Smith were just +opposite and they disconcerted me.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Flutter," said the hostess when it came my turn, "will you have +tea or coffee?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," said I.</p> + +<p>"Tea or coffee?"</p> + +<p>"If you please," said I.</p> + +<p>"<i>Which</i>?" whispered Belle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, excuse me; coffee, ma'am."</p> + +<p>"Cream and sugar, Mr. Flutter?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not particular which, Mrs. Jones."</p> + +<p>"Do you take <i>both</i>?" she persisted, with everybody at the table +looking my way.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, only coffee," said I, my face the color of the +beet-pickles.</p> + +<p>She finally passed me a cup, and, in my embarrassment, I immediately +took a swallow and burnt my mouth.</p> + +<p>"Have you lost any friends lately?" asked that wretched Fred, seeing +the tears in my eyes.</p> + +<p>I enjoyed that tea-party as geese enjoy <i>pate de fois gras</i>. It was a +prolonged torment under the guise of pleasure. I refused everything I +wanted, and took everything I didn't want. I got a back of the cold +chicken; there was nothing of it but bone. I thought I must appear to +be eating it, and it slipped out from under my fork and flew into the +dish of preserved cherries.</p> + +<p>We had strawberries. I am very partial to strawberries and cream. I +got a saucer of the berries, and was looking about for the cream when +Miss Smith's mother, at my right hand, said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Flutter, will you have some <i>whip</i> with your strawberries?"</p> + +<p>Whip with my berries! I thought she was making fun of me, and +stammered:</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you," and so I lost the delicious frothed cream that I +coveted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> + +<p>The agony of the thing was drawing to a close. I was longing for the +time when I could go home and get some cold potatoes out of mother's +cupboard. I hadn't eaten worth a cent.</p> + +<p>Pretty soon we all moved back our chairs and rose. I offered my arm to +Belle, as I supposed. Between the sitting-room and parlor there was a +little dark hall, and when we got in there I summoned up courage, +passed my arm around my fair partner, and gave her a hug.</p> + +<p>"You ain't so bashful as you look," said she, and then we stepped into +the parlor, and I found I'd been squeezing Widow Jones' waist.</p> + +<p>She gave me a look full of languishing sweetness that scared me nearly +to death. I thought of Mr. Pickwick and Mrs. Bardell. Visions of suits +for breaches of promise arose before my horrified vision. I glanced +wildly around in search of Belle; she was hanging on a young lawyer's +arm, and not looking at me.</p> + +<p>"La, now, you needn't color up so," said the widow, coquettishly, "I +know what young men are."</p> + +<p>She said it aloud, on purpose for Belle to hear. I felt like killing +her. I might have done it, but one thought restrained me—I should be +hung for murder, and I was too bashful to submit to so public an +ordeal.</p> + +<p>I hurried across the room to get rid of her. There was a young fellow +standing there who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> looked about as out-of-place as I felt. I thought +I would speak to him.</p> + +<p>"Come," said I, "let us take a little promenade outside—the women are +too much for me."</p> + +<p>He made no answer. I heard giggling and tittering breaking out all +around the room, like rash on a baby with the measles.</p> + +<p>"Come on," said I; "like as not they're laughing at us."</p> + +<p>"Look-a-here, you shouldn't speak to a fellow till you've been +introduced," said that wicked Fred behind me. "Mr. Flutter, allow me +to make you acquainted with Mr. Flutter. He's anxious to take a little +walk with you."</p> + +<p>It was so; I had been talking to myself in a four-foot looking-glass.</p> + +<p>I did not feel like staying for the ice-cream and kissing-plays, but +had a sly hunt for my hat, and took leave of the tea-party about the +eighth of a second afterward.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>HE DOES HIS DUTY AS A CITIZEN.</h3> + + +<p>Babbletown began to be very lively as soon as the weather got cool, +the fall after I came home. We had a singing-school once a week, a +debating society that met every Wednesday evening, and then we had +sociables, and just before Christmas a fair. All the other young men +had a good time. Every day, when some of them dropped in the store for +a chat and a handful of raisins, they would aggravate me by asking:</p> + +<p>"<i>Aren't</i> we having a jolly winter of it, John?"</p> + +<p><i>I</i> never had a good time. <i>I</i> never enjoyed myself like other folks. +I spent enough money and made enough good resolutions, but something +always occurred to destroy my anticipated pleasure. I can't hear a +lyceum or debating society mentioned to this day, without feeling +"cold-chills" run down my spine.</p> + +<p>I took part in the exercises the evening ours was opened. I had been +requested by the committee to furnish the poem for the occasion. As I +was just from a first-class academy, where I had read the valedictory, +it was taken for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> granted that I was the most likely one to "fill the +bill."</p> + +<p>I accepted the proposition. To be bashful is a far different thing +from being modest. I wrote the poem. I sat up nights to do it. The way +candles were consumed caused father to wonder where his best box of +spermacetis had gone to. I knew I could do the poetry, and I firmly +resolved that I would read it through, from beginning to end, in a +clear, well-modulated voice, that could be heard by all, including the +minister and Belle Marigold. I would not blush, or stammer, or get a +frog in my throat. I swore solemnly to myself that I would not. <i>Some +folks</i> should see that my bashfulness was wearing off faster than the +gold from an oroide watch. Oh, I would show 'em! Some things could be +done as well as others. I would no longer be the laughing-stock of +Babbletown. My past record should be wiped out! I would write my poem, +and I would <i>read it</i>—read it calmly and impressively, so as to do +full justice to it.</p> + +<p>I got the poem ready. I committed it to memory, so that if the lights +were dim, or I lost my place, I should not be at the mercy of the +manuscript. The night came. I entered the hall with Belle on my arm, +early, so as to secure her a front seat.</p> + +<p>"Keep cool, John," were her whispered words, as I left her to take my +place on the platform.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I shall be cool enough. I know every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> line by heart; have said it +to myself one hundred and nineteen times without missing a word."</p> + +<p>I'm not going to bore you with the poem here; but will give the first +four lines as they were <i>written</i> and as I <i>spoke</i> them:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Hail! Babbletown, fair village of the plain!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hail! friends and fellow-citizens. In vain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I strive to sing the glories of this place,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose history back to early times I trace."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The room was crowded, the president of the society made a few opening +remarks, which closed by presenting Mr. Flutter, the poet of the +occasion. I was quite easy and at home until I arose and bowed as he +spoke my name. Then something happened to my senses, I don't know +what; I only knew I lost every one of them for about two minutes. I +was blind, deaf, dumb, tasteless, senseless, and feelingless. Then I +came to a little, rallied, and perceived that some of the boy were +beginning to pound the floor with their heels. I made a feint of +holding my roll of verses nearer the lamp at my right hand, summoned +traitor memory to return, and began:</p> + +<p>"Hail!"</p> + +<p>Was that my voice? I did not recognize it. It was more as if a mouse +in the gallery had squeaked. It would never do. I cleared any +throat—which was to have been free from frogs—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> a strange, hoarse +voice, no more like mine than a crow is like a nightingale, came out +with a jerk, about six feet away, and remarked, as if surprised:</p> + +<p>"Hail!"</p> + +<p>With a desperate effort, I resolved that this night or never I was to +achieve greatness. I cleared the way again and recommenced:</p> + +<p>"Hail!"</p> + +<p>A boy's voice at the back of the room was heard to insinuate that +perhaps it would be easier for me to let it snow or rain. That made me +angry. I was as cool as ice all in a moment; I felt that I had the +mastery of the situation, and, making a sweeping gesture with my left +hand, I looked over my hearers' heads, and continued:</p> + +<p>"Hail! Fabbletown, bare village of the plain—Babbletown, fair pillage +of the vain—. Hail! friends and fellow-citizens—!"</p> + +<p>It was evident that I had borrowed somebody else's voice—my own +mother wouldn't have recognized it—and a mighty poor show of a voice, +too. It was like a race-horse that suddenly balks, and loses the race. +I had put up heavy stakes on that voice, but I couldn't budge it. Not +an inch faster would it go. In vain I whipped and spurred in silent +desperation—it balked at "fellow-citizens," and there it stuck. The +audience, good-naturedly, waited five minutes. At the end of that +time, I sat down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> amid general applause, conscious that I had made +the sensation of the evening.</p> + +<p>Belle gave me the mitten that evening, and went home in Fred Hencoop's +sleigh.</p> + +<p>We didn't speak, after that, until about a week before the fair. She, +with some other girls, then came in the store to beg for "scraps" of +silk, muslin, and so-forth, to dress dolls for the fair. They were +very sweet, for they knew they could make a fool of me. Father was not +in, and I guess they timed their visit so that he wouldn't be. They +got half a yard of pink silk, as much of blue, ditto of lilac and +black, a yard of every kind of narrow ribbon in the store, a remnant +of book-muslin, three yards—in all, about six dollars' worth of +"scraps," and then asked me if I wasn't going to give a box of raisins +and the coffee for the table. I said I would.</p> + +<p>"And you'll come, Mr. Flutter, won't you? It'll be a failure unless +<i>you</i> are there. You must <i>promise</i> to come. We won't go out of this +store till you do. And, oh, don't forget to bring <i>your purse</i> along. +We expect all the young gentlemen to <i>come prepared</i>, you know."</p> + +<p>There is no doubt that I went to the fair. It made my heart ache to do +it—for I'd already been pretty extravagant, one way and another—but +I put a ten-dollar bill in my wallet, resolved to spend every cent of +it rather than appear mean.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>I don't know whether I appeared mean or not; I do know that I spent +every penny of that ten dollars, and considerable more besides. If +there was anything at that fair that no one else wanted, and that was +not calculated to supply any known want of the human race, it was +palmed off on me. I became the unhappy possessor of five dressed +dolls, a lady's "nubia," a baby-jumper, fourteen "tidies," a set of +parlor croquet with wickets that wouldn't stand on their legs, a +patent churn warranted to make a pound of fresh butter in three +minutes out of a quart of chalk-and-water, a set of ladies' nightcaps, +two child's aprons, a castle-in-the-air, a fairy-palace, a doll's +play-house, a toy-balloon, a box of marbles, a pair of spectacles, a +pair of pillow-shams, a young lady's work-basket, seven needle-books, +a cradle-quilt, a good many bookmarks, a sofa-cushion, and an infant's +rattle, warranted to cut one's eye teeth; besides which I had tickets +in a fruit cake, a locket, a dressing-bureau, a baby-carriage, a +lady's watch-chain, and an infant's wardrobe complete.</p> + +<p>When I feebly remonstrated that I'd spent all the money I brought, I +was smilingly assured by innumerable female Tootses that "it was of no +consequence"; but I found there <i>were</i> consequences when I came to +settle afterward for half the things at the fair, because I was too +bashful to say No, boldly.</p> + +<p>Fred Hencoop auctioned off the remaining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> articles after eleven +o'clock. Every time he put up something utterly unsalable, he would +look over at me, nod, and say: "Thank you, John; did you say fifty +cents?" or "Did I hear you say a dollar? A dollar—dollar—going, gone +to our friend and patron, John Flutter, Jr.," and some of the lady +managers would "make a note of it," and I was too everlastingly +embarrassed to deny it.</p> + +<p>"John," said father, about four o'clock in the afternoon the day after +the fair—"John, did you buy all these things?"—the front part of the +store was piled and crammed with my unwilling purchases.</p> + +<p>"Father, I don't know whether I did or not."</p> + +<p>"How much is the bill?"</p> + +<p>"$98.17."</p> + +<p>"How are you going to pay it?"</p> + +<p>"I've got the hundred dollars in bank grandmother gave me when she +died."</p> + +<p>"Draw the money, pay your debts, and either get married at once and +make these things useful, or we'll have a bonfire in the back yard."</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better have the bonfire, father. I don't care for any +girl but Belle, and she won't have me."</p> + +<p>"Won't have you! I'm worth as much as Squire Marigold any day."</p> + +<p>"I know it, father; but I took her down to supper last night, and I +was so confused, with all the married ladies looking on, I made a +mess<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> of it. I put two teaspoonfuls of sugar in her oyster stew, +salted her coffee, and insisted on her taking pickles with her +ice-cream. She didn't mind that so much, but when I stuffed my saucer +into my pocket, and conducted her into the coal-cellar instead of the +hall, she got out of patience. Father, I think I'd better go to +Arizona in the spring. I'm—"</p> + +<p>"Go to grass! if you want to," was the unfeeling reply; "but don't you +ever go to another fair, unless I go along to take care of you."</p> + +<p>But I think the bonfire made him feel better.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>HE COMMITS SUICIDE.</h3> + + +<p>Two days after the fair (one day after the bonfire), some time during +the afternoon, I found myself alone in the store. Business was so dull +that father, with a yawn, said he guessed he'd go to the post-office +and have a chat with the men.</p> + +<p>"Be sure you don't leave the store a moment alone, John," was his +parting admonition.</p> + +<p>Of course I wouldn't think of such a thing—he need not have mentioned +it. I was a good business fellow for my age; the only blunders I ever +made were those caused by my failing—the unhappy failing to which I +have hitherto alluded.</p> + +<p>I sat mournfully on the counter after father left me, my head +reclining pensively against a pile of ten-cent calicoes; I was +thinking of my grandmother's legacy gone up in smoke—of how Belle +looked when she found I had conducted her into the coal-cellar—of +those tidies, cradle-quilts, bib-aprons, dolls' and ladies' fixings, +which had been nefariously foisted upon me, a base advantage taken of +my diffidence!—and I felt sad. I felt more than melancholy—I felt +mad. I resented the tricks of the fair ones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> And I made a mighty +resolution! "Never—never—never," said I, between my clenched teeth, +"will I again be guilty of the crime of bashfulness—<i>never</i>!"</p> + +<p>I felt that I could face a female regiment—all Babbletown! I was +indignant; and there's nothing like honest, genuine indignation to +give courage. Oh, I'd show 'em. I wouldn't give a cent when the deacon +passed the plate on Sundays; I wouldn't subscribe to the char——</p> + +<p>In the midst of my dark and vengeful resolutions I heard merry voices +on the pavement outside.</p> + +<p>Hastily raising my head from the pile of calicoes, I saw at least five +girls making for the store door—a whole bevy of them coming in upon +me at once. They were the same rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, deceitful, +shameless creatures who had persuaded me into such folly at the fair. +There was Hetty Slocum, the girl who coaxed me into buying the doll; +and Maggie Markham, who sold me the quilt; and Belle, and two others, +and they were chatting and giggling over some joke, and had to stop on +the steps until they could straighten their faces. I grew +fire-red—with indignation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, why are you not here?" I cried inwardly. "Oh, father, +what a shame to go off to the post-office and leave your son to face +these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> tried to feel as I felt five minutes before, like facing a +female regiment. <i>Now</i> was the time to prove my courage—to turn over +a new leaf, take a new departure, begin life over again, show to these +giggling girls that I had some pride—some self-independence—some +self-resp——"</p> + +<p>The door creaked on its hinges, and at the sound a blind confusion +seized me. In vain I attempted, like a brave but despairing general, +to rally my forces; but they all deserted me at once; I was hidden +behind the calicoes, and with no time to arrange for a nobler plan of +escaping a meeting with the enemy—no auger-hole though which to +crawl. I followed the first impulse, stooped, and <i>hid under the +counter</i>.</p> + +<p>In a minute I wished myself out of that; but the minute had been too +much—the bevy had entered and approached the counter, at the very +place behind which I lay concealed. I was so afraid to breathe; the +cold sweat started on my forehead.</p> + +<p>"Why! there's no one in the store!" exclaimed Belle's voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; there must be. Let us look around and see," responded +Maggie, and they went tiptoeing around the room, peeping here and +there, while I silently tore my hair. I was so afraid they would come +behind the counter and discover me.</p> + +<p>In three minutes, which seemed as many hours, they came to the +starting-point again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There isn't a soul here."</p> + +<p>"La, how funny! We might take something."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if we were thieves, what a fine opportunity we would have."</p> + +<p>"I'll bet three cents it's John's fault; his father would never leave +the store in this careless way."</p> + +<p>"What a queer fellow he is, anyway!"</p> + +<p>"Ha, ha, ha! so perfectly absurd! <i>Isn't</i> it fun when he's about?"</p> + +<p>"I never was so tickled in my life as when he bought that quilt."</p> + +<p>"I thought I would die laughing when he took me into the coal-cellar, +but I kept a straight face."</p> + +<p>"Do <i>you</i> think he's good-looking, Hetty?"</p> + +<p>"Who? John Flutter! <i>good-looking</i>? He's a perfect fright."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I think. Oh, isn't it too good to see the way he +nurses that little mustache of his? I'm going to send him a +magnifying-glass, so that he can count the hairs with less trouble."</p> + +<p>"If you will, I'll send a box of cold cream; we can send them through +the post-office, and he'll never find out who they came from."</p> + +<p>"Jolly! we'll do it! Belle won't send anything, for he's dead in love +with <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"Much good it'll do him, girls! Do you suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> I wouldn't marry that +simpleton if he was made of gold."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such a red face as he has? I would be afraid to come +near it with a light dress on."</p> + +<p>"And his ears!"</p> + +<p>"Monstrous! and always burning."</p> + +<p>"And the awkwardest fellow that ever blundered into a parlor. You know +the night he waited on me to Hetty's party? he stepped on my toes so +that I had to poultice them before I went to bed; he tore the train +all off my pink tarlatan; he spilled a cup of hot coffee down old Mrs. +Ballister's back, and upset his saucer of ice-cream over Ada's sweet +new book-muslin. Why, girls, just as sure as I am standing here, I saw +him cram the saucer into his pocket when Belle came up to speak with +him! I tell you, I was glad to get home that night without any more +accidents."</p> + +<p>"They say he always puts the tea-napkins into his pocket when he takes +tea away from home. But it's not kleptomania, it's only bashfulness. I +never heard before of his pocketing the saucers."</p> + +<p>"Well, he really did. It's awful funny. I don't know how we'd get +along without John this winter—he makes all the fun we have. What's +that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, it sounded like rats gnawing the floor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>(It was only the amusing John gritting his teeth, I am able to +explain).</p> + +<p>"Did you ever notice his mouth?—how large it is."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's frightful. I don't wonder he's ashamed of himself with that +mouth."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind his mouth so much—but his <i>nose</i>! I never did like a +turn-up nose in a man. But his father's pretty well off. It would be +nice to marry a whole store full of dry-goods and have a new dress +every time you wanted one. I wonder where they have gone to! I believe +I'll rap."</p> + +<p>The last speaker seized the yard-stick and thumped on the counter +directly over my head.</p> + +<p>"Oh, girls! let's go behind, and see how they keep things. I wonder +how many pieces of dress-silk there are left!"</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll go behind the counter, and play clerk. If any one comes +in, I'll go, as sure as the world! and wait on 'em. Won't it be fun? +There comes old Aunty Harkness now. I dare say she is after a spool of +thread or a paper of needles. I'm going to wait on her. Mr. Flutter +won't care—I'll explain when he comes in. What do you want, auntie?" +in a very loud voice.</p> + +<p>My head buzzed like a saw—my heart made such a loud thud against my +side I thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> stars! she wanted "an ounce o' snuff," and that +article was kept in a glass jar in plain sight on the other side of +the store. There was a movement in that direction, and I recovered +partially, I half resolved to rise up suddenly—pretend I'd been +hiding for fun—and laugh the whole thing off as a joke. But the +insulting, the ridiculous comments I had overheard, had made me too +indignant. Pretty joke, indeed! But I wished I had obeyed the dictates +of prudence and affected to consider it so. Father came bustling in +while the girls were trying to tie up the snuff, and sneezing +beautifully.</p> + +<p>"What! what! young ladies! Where's John?"</p> + +<p>"That's more than we know—tschi-he! We've been waiting at least ten +minutes. Auntie Harkness wanted some stch-uff, and we thought we'd do +it for her. I s'pose you've no objections, Mr. Flutter?"</p> + +<p>"Not the least in the world, girls. Go ahead. I wonder where John is! +There! you'll sneeze your pretty noses off—let me finish it. John has +no business to leave the store. I don't like it—five cents, auntie, +to <i>you</i>—and I told him particularly not to leave it a minute. I +don't understand it; very sorry you've been kept waiting. What shall I +show you, young lady?" and father passed behind the counter and stood +with his toes touching my legs, notwithstanding I had shrunk into as +small space as was convenient, considering my size and weight. It was +getting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> toward dusk of the short winter afternoon, and I hoped and +prayed he wouldn't notice me.</p> + +<p>"What shall I show you, young ladies?"</p> + +<p>"Some light kid gloves, No. 6, please."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly—here they are. I do believe there's a strange dog +under the counter! Get out—get out, sir, I say!" and my cruel parent +gave me a vicious kick.</p> + +<p>I pinched his leg impressively. I meant it as a warning, to betray to +him that it was I, and to implore him, figuratively, to keep silence.</p> + +<p>But he refused to comprehend that agonized pinch; he resented it. He +gave another vicious kick. Then he stooped and looked under—it was a +little dark—too dark, alas! under there. He saw a man—but not to +recognize him.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" he yelled; "robber! thief! burglar! I've got you, fellow! Come +out o' that!"</p> + +<p>I never before realized father's strength. He got his hand in my +collar, and he jerked me out from under that counter, and shook me, +and held me off at arm's length.</p> + +<p>"There, Mr. Burglar," said he, triumphantly, "sneak in here again +will—<span class="smcap">John</span>!"</p> + +<p>The girls had been screaming and running, but they stood still now.</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>John</i>!" said I, in desperation. "The drawer came loose under +the counter, and I was nailing on a strip of board when those <i>young +ladies</i> came in. I kept quiet, just for fun. They began to talk in an +interesting manner, curiosity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> got the better of politeness, and I'm +afraid I've played eavesdropper," and I made a killing bow, meant +especially for Belle.</p> + +<p>"Well, you're a pretty one!" exclaimed father.</p> + +<p>"<i>So they say</i>," said I. "Don't leave, young ladies. I'd like to sell +you a magnifying-glass, and some cold cream." But they all left in a +hurry. They didn't even buy a pair of gloves.</p> + +<p>The girls must have told of it, for the story got out, and Fred +advised me to try counter-irritation for my bashfulness.</p> + +<p>"You're not a burglar," said he, "but you're guilty of +counter-fitting."</p> + +<p>"Nothing would suit me better," I retorted, "than to be tried for it, +and punished by solitary confinement."</p> + +<p>And there was nothing I should have liked so much. The iron had +entered my soul. I was worse than ever. I purchased a four-ounce vial +of laudanum, went to my room, and wrote a letter to my mother:</p> + +<p>"Mother, I am tired of life. My nose is turn-up, my mouth is large; I +pocket other people's saucers and napkins; I am always making +blunders. This is my last blunder. I shall never blush again. +Farewell. Let the inscription on my tombstone be—'Died of +Bashfulness.' <span class="smcap">John</span>."</p> + +<p>And I swallowed the contents of the vial, and threw myself on my +little bed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>HE IS DOOMED FOR WORSE ACCIDENTS.</h3> + + +<p>It may seem strange for you to hear of me again, after the conclusion +of the last chapter of my blunders. But it was not I who made the last +blunder—it was the druggist. Quite by mistake the imbecile who waited +upon me put up four ounces of the aromatic syrup of rhubarb. I felt +myself gradually sinking into the death-sleep after I had taken it; +with the thought of Belle uppermost in my mind, I allowed myself to +sink—"no more catastrophes after this last and grandest one—no more +red faces—big mouth—tea-napkins—wonder—if she—will be—sorry!" +and I became unconscious.</p> + +<p>I was awakened from a comfortable slumber by loud screams; mother +stood by my bed, with the vial labeled "laudanum" in one hand, my +letter in the other. Father rushed into the room.</p> + +<p>"Father, John's committed suicide. Oh! bring the tartar-emetic quick! +Make some coffee as strong as lye! Oh! send for a stomach-pump. Tell +Mary to bring the things and put the coffee on; and you come here, an' +we'll walk him up and down—keep him a-going—that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> his only +salvation! Oh! John, John! that ever your bashfulness should drive you +into this! Up with him, father! Oh! he's dying! He ain't able to help +himself one bit!"</p> + +<p>They dragged me off the bed, and marched me up and down the room. +Supposing, as a matter of course, that I ought to be expiring, I felt +that I was expiring. My knees tottered under me; they only hauled me +around the more violently. They forced a spoonful of tartar-emetic +down my throat; Mary, the servant-girl, poured a quart of black coffee +down me, half outside and half in; then they jerked me about the floor +again, as if we were dancing a Virginia reel.</p> + +<p>The doctor came and poked a long rubber tube down and converted me +into a patent pump, until the tartar-emetic, and the coffee, and the +pumpkin-pie I had eaten for dinner had all revisited this mundane +sphere.</p> + +<p>They had no mercy on me; I promenaded up and down and across with +father, with Mary, with the doctor, until I felt that I should die if +they didn't allow me to stop promenading.</p> + +<p>The worst of it was, the house was full of folks; they crowded about +the chamber door and looked at me, dancing up and down with the hired +girl and the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door—they shall <i>not</i> look at me!" I gasped, at last. The +doctor felt my pulse and said proudly to my mother:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Madam, your son will live! Our skill and vigilance have saved him."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, doctor!" sobbed my parents.</p> + +<p>"I will <i>not</i> live," I moaned, "to be the laughing stock of +Babbletown. I will buy some more."</p> + +<p>"John," said my father, weeping, "arouse yourself! You shall leave +this place, if you desire it—only live! I will get you the position +of weather-gauger on top of Mount Washington, if you say so, but don't +commit any more suicide, my son!"</p> + +<p>I was affected, and promised that I wouldn't, provided that I was +found a situation somewhere by myself. So the excitement subsided. +Father slept with me that night, keeping one eye open; the doctor got +the credit of saving my life, and the girls of Babbletown were scared +out of laughing at me for a whole month.</p> + +<p>When we came to talk the matter over seriously—father and I—it was +found to be too late in the season to procure me the Mount Washington +appointment for the winter; besides, the effect of my attempt to +"shuffle off this mortal coil" was to literally overrun our store with +customers. People came from the country for fifteen miles around, in +ox teams, on horse-back, in sleighs and cutters, and bob-sleds, and +crockery-crates, to buy something, in hopes of getting a glimpse of +the bashful young man who swallowed the pizen. Now, father was too +cute a Yankee not to take advantage of the mob. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> forgot his +promises, and made me stay in the store from morning till night, so +that women could say: "I bought this 'ere shirting from the young man +who committed suicide; he did it up with his own hands."</p> + +<p>"I'll give you a fair share o' the profits, John," father would say, +slyly.</p> + +<p>Well, things went on as it greased; the girls mostly stayed away—the +Babbletown girls, for they had guilty consciences, I suspect; and in +February there came a thaw. I stood looking out of the store window +one day; the snow had melted in the street, and right over the stones +that had been laid across the road for a walk, there was a great +puddle of muddy water about two yards wide and a foot deep. I soon saw +Hetty Slocum tripping across the street; she came to the puddle and +stood still; the soft slush was heaped up on either side—she couldn't +get around and she couldn't go through. My natural gallantry got the +better of my resentment, and I went out to help her over, +notwithstanding what she had said when I was under the counter. +Planting one foot firmly in the center of the puddle and bracing the +other against the curb-stone, I extended my hand.</p> + +<p>"If you're good at jumping, Miss Slocum," said I, "I'll land you +safely on this side."</p> + +<p>"Oh," said she, roguishly, "Mr. Flutter, can I trust you?" and she +reached out her little gloved hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>All my old embarrassment rushed over me. I became nervous at the +critical moment when I should have been cool. I never could tell just +how it happened—whether her glove was slippery, or my foot slipped on +a piece of ice under slush, or what—but the next moment we were both +of us sitting down in fourteen inches of very cold, very muddy water.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_060.jpg" width="600" height="544" alt="THE NEXT MOMENT WE WERE BOTH OF US SITTING DOWN IN +FOURTEEN INCHES OF VERY COLD, VERY MUDDY WATER." title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE NEXT MOMENT WE WERE BOTH OF US SITTING DOWN IN +FOURTEEN INCHES OF VERY COLD, VERY MUDDY WATER.</span> +</div> + +<p>My best beaver hat flew off and was run over by a passing sled, while +a little dog ran away with Hetty's seal-skin muff.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>I floundered around in that puddle for about two minutes, and then I +got up. Hetty still sat there. She was white, she was so mad.</p> + +<p>"I might a known better," said she. "Let me alone. I'd sit here +forever, before I'd let <i>you</i> help me up."</p> + +<p>The boys were coming home from school, and they began to hoot and +laugh. I ran after the little dog who was making off with the muff. +How Hetty got up, or who came to her rescue I don't know. That cur +belonged about four miles out of town, and he never let up until he +got home.</p> + +<p>I grabbed the muff just as he was disappearing under the house with +it, and then I walked slowly back. The people who didn't know me took +me for an escaped convict—I was water-soaked and muddy, hatless, and +had a sneaking expression, like that of a convicted horse-thief. Two +or three persons attempted to arrest me. Finally, two stout farmers +succeeded, and brought me into the village in triumph, and marched me +between them to the jail.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's Mr. Flutter been doin'?" asked the sheriff, coming out to +meet us.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you know him?" inquired one of the men.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know him. That's our esteemed fellow-citizen, young Flutter."</p> + +<p>"And he ain't no horse-thief nor nuthin'!"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it, I assure you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man eyed me from head to foot, critically and contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"Then all I've got to say," he remarked slowly, "is this—appearances +is very deceptive."</p> + +<p>It was getting dusk by this time, and I was thankful for it.</p> + +<p>"I slipped down in a mud-puddle and lost my hat," I explained to the +sheriff, as I turned away, and had the satisfaction of hearing the +other one of my arresters say, behind my back:</p> + +<p>"Oh, drunk!"</p> + +<p>I hired a little boy, for five cents, to deliver Miss Slocum's muff at +her residence. Then I went into the house by the kitchen, bribed Mary +to clean my soiled pants without telling mother, slipped up-stairs, +and went to bed without my supper.</p> + +<p>The next day I bought a handsome seven-dollar ring, and sent it to +Hetty as some compensation for the damage done to her dress.</p> + +<p>That evening was singing-school evening. I went early, so as to get my +seat without attracting attention. Early as I was, I was not the +first. A group of young people was gathered about the great +black-board, on which the master illustrated his lessons. They were +having lots of fun, and did not notice me as I came in. I stole +quietly to a seat behind a pillar. Fred Hencoop was drawing something +on the board, and explaining it. As he drew back and pointed with the +long stick, I saw a splendid caricature of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>self pursuing a small +dog with a muff, while a young lady sat quietly in a mud-puddle in the +corner of the black-board, and Fred was saying, with intense gravity:</p> + +<p>"This is the man, all tattered and torn, that spattered the maiden all +forlorn. <i>This</i> is the dog that stole the muff. <i>This</i> is the ring he +sent the maid—"</p> + +<p>"Muff-in ring," suggested some one, and then they laughed louder than +ever.</p> + +<p>I felt that that singing-school was no place for me that evening, and +I stole away as noiselessly as I had entered.</p> + +<p>I went home and packed my trunk. The next morning I said to father:</p> + +<p>"Give me my share of the profits for the last month," and he gave me +one hundred and thirty dollars. "I am going where no one knows me, +mother, so good-bye. You'll hear from me when I'm settled," and I was +actually off on the nine o'clock New York express.</p> + +<p>Every seat was full in every car but one—one seat beside a pretty, +fashionably-dressed young lady was vacant. I stood up against the +wood-box and looked at that seat, as a boy looks at a jar of +peppermint-drops in a candy-store window. After a while I reflected +that these people were all strangers, and, of course, unaware of my +infirmity; this gave me a certain degree of courage. I left the +support of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> wood-box and made my way along the aisle until I came +to the vacant seat.</p> + +<p>"Miss," I began, politely, but the lady purposely looked the other +way; she had her bag in the place where I wanted to sit, and she +didn't mean to move it, if she could help it. "Miss," I said again, in +a louder tone.</p> + +<p>Two or three people looked at us. That confused me; her refusing to +look around confused me; one of my old bad spells began to come on.</p> + +<p>"Miss," I whispered, leaning toward her, blushing and embarrassed, "I +would like to know if you are engaged—if—if you are taken, I mean?"</p> + +<p>She looked at me then sharp enough.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I <i>am</i>," she said calmly; "and going to be married next +week."</p> + +<p>The passengers began to laugh, and I began to back out. I didn't stop +at the wood-box, but retreated into the next car, where I stood until +my legs ached, and then sat down by an ancient lady, with a long nose, +blue spectacles, and a green veil.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE.</h3> + + +<p>It is a serious thing to be as bashful as I am. There's nothing at all +funny about it, though some people seem to think there is. I was +assured, years ago, that it would wear off and betray the brass +underneath; but I must have been triple-plated. I have had rubs enough +to wear out a wash-board, yet there doesn't a bit of brass come to the +surface yet. Beauty may be only skin-deep; modesty, like mine, +pervades the grain. If I really believed my bashfulness was only +cuticle-deep, I'd be flayed to-day, and try and grow a hardier +complexion without any Bloom of Youth in it. No use! I could pave a +ten-thousand-acre prairie with the "good intentions" I have wasted, +the firm resolutions I have broken. Born to be bashful is only another +way of expressing the Bible truth, "Born to trouble as the sparks are +to fly upward."</p> + +<p>When I sat down by the elderly lady in the railway train, I felt +comparatively at ease. She was older than mother, and I didn't mind +her rather aggressive looks and ways; in short, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> seemed to feel that +in case of necessity she would protect me. Not that I was afraid of +anything, but she would probably at least keep me from proposing to +any more young ladies. Alas! how <i>could</i> I have any presentiment of +the worse danger lurking in store for me? How could I, young, +innocent, and inexperienced, foresee the unforeseeable? I could not. +Reviewing all the circumstances by the light of wiser days, I still +deny that I was in any way, shape, or manner to blame for what +occurred. I sat in my half of the seat, occupying as little room as +possible, my eyes fixed on the crimson plush cushions of the seat +before me, my thoughts busy with the mortifying past, and the great +unknown future into which I was blindly rushing at the rate of thirty +miles an hour—sat there, dreading the great city into which I was so +soon to plunge—when a voice, closely resembling vinegar sweetened +with honey, said, close to my ear:</p> + +<p>"Goin' to New York, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," I answered, coming out of my reverie with a little jump.</p> + +<p>"I'm real glad," said my companion, taking off her blue spectacles, +and leaning toward me confidentially; "so I am. I'm quite unprotected, +sir, quite, and I shall be thankful to place myself under your care. +I'm goin' down to the city to buy my spring stock o' millinery, an' +any little attention you can show me will be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> gratefully +received—gratefully. I don't mind admitting to <i>you</i>, young man, for +you look pure and uncorrupted, that I am terribly afraid of men. They +are wicked, heartless creatures. I feel that I might more safely trust +myself with ravening wolves than with men in general, but <i>you</i> are +different. <i>You</i> have had a good mother."</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, I have," I responded, rather warmly.</p> + +<p>I was pleased at her commendation of me and mother, but puzzled as to +the character of the danger to which she referred. I finally concluded +that she was afraid of being robbed, and I put my lips close to her +ear, so that no one should overhear us, and asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you carry your money about you?—you ought not to run such a risk. +I've been told there are always one or more thieves on every express +train."</p> + +<p>"My dear young friend," she whispered back, very, very close in my +ear, "I was not thinking of money—<i>that</i> is all in checks, safely +deposited in—in—in te-he! inside the lining of my waist. I was only +referring to the dangers which ever beset the unmarried lady, +especially the unsophisticated maiden, far, far from her native +village. Why, would you believe it, already, sir, since I left home, a +man, a <i>gentleman</i>, sitting in the very seat where you sit now, made +love to me, out-and-out!"</p> + +<p>"Made love to you?" I stammered, shrinking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> into the farthest corner, +and regarding her with undisguised astonishment.</p> + +<p>"You may well appear surprised. Promise me that you will remain by my +side until we reach our destination."</p> + +<p>She appeared kind of nervous and agitated, and I promised. Instead of +being protected, I found myself figuring in the <i>role</i> of protector. +My timid companion did the most of the talking; she pumped me pretty +dry of facts about myself, and confided to me that she was doing a +good business—making eight hundred a year clear profit—and all she +wanted to complete her satisfaction was the right kind of a partner.</p> + +<p>She proposed to me to become that partner. I said that I did not +understand the millinery business; she said I had been a clerk in a +dry-goods store, and that was the first step; I said I didn't think I +should fancy the bonnet line. She said I should be a <i>silent</i> partner; +all in the world I'd have to do would be to post the books, and she'd +warrant me a thousand dollars a year, for the business would double. I +said I had but one hundred and thirty dollars; she said, write to my +pa for more, but she'd take me without a cent—there was something in +my face that showed her I was to be trusted.</p> + +<p>She was so persistent that I began to be alarmed—I felt that I should +be drawn into that woman's clutches against my will. I got pale and +cold, and the perspiration broke out on my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> brow. Was it for this I +had fled from home and friends? To become a partner in the +hat-and-bonnet business, with a dreadful old maid, who wore blue +spectacles and curled her false hair. I shivered.</p> + +<p>"Poor darling!" said she, "the boy is cold," and she wrapped me up in +a big plaid shawl of her own.</p> + +<p>The very touch of that shawl made me feel as if I had a thousand +caterpillars crawling over me; yet I was too bashful to break loose +from its folds. I grew feverish.</p> + +<p>"There," said she, "you are getting your color back."</p> + +<p>The more attention she paid to me the more homesick I grew. I looked +piteously in the conductor's face as he passed by. He smiled +relentlessly. I glanced wildly yet furtively about to see if, +perchance, a vacant seat were to be descried.</p> + +<p>"Rest thy head on this shoulder; thou art weary," she said. "I will +put my veil over your face and you can catch a nap."</p> + +<p>But I was not to be caught napping.</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you—I never sleep in the day time," I stammered.</p> + +<p>Oh, what a ride I was having! How wretched I felt! Yet I was too +bashful to shake off the shawl and stand up before a car-load of +people.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, something happened. The blue<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> spectacles flew over my head, +and I flew over the seat in front of me. Thank goodness! I was saved +from that female! I picked myself up from out of the <i>débris</i> of the +wreck. I saw a green veil, and a lady looking around for her lost +teeth, and having ascertained that no one was killed, I limped away +and hid behind a stump. I stayed behind that stump three mortal hours. +When the train went again on its winding way I was not one of the +passengers. I walked, bruised and sore as I was, to the nearest +village, and took the first train in the opposite direction. That +evening, as father and mother were sitting down to their solitary but +excellent tea, I walked in on 'em.</p> + +<p>"No more foreign trips for me," said I; "I will stick to Babbletown, +and try and stand the consequences."</p> + +<p>About four days after this, father laid a letter on the counter before +me—a large, long, yellow envelope, with a big red seal. "Read that," +was his brief comment.</p> + +<p>I took it up, unfolded the foolscap, and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">John Flutter, Senior</span>:—I have the honor to inform you that +my client, Miss Alvira Slimmens, has instructed me to +proceed against your son for breach of promise of marriage, +laying her damages at twelve hundred dollars. As your son is +not legally of age, we shall hold you responsible. A +compromise, to avoid publicity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> suit, is possible. Send +us your check for $1,000 and you will hear no more of this +matter.</p></div> + +<p class="sig">"Respectfully,</p> + +<p class="sig1"><span class="smcap">"William Black</span>, Attorney-at-Law,</p> + +<p class="sig2">"<i>Pennyville, N. Y.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!" I cried, "I swear to you this is not my fault!" Looking +up in distress I saw that my parent was laughing.</p> + +<p>"I have heard of Alvira before," said he; "no, it is <i>not</i> your fault, +my poor boy. Let me see, Alvira was thirty twenty-one years ago when I +was married to your ma. I used to be in Pennyville sometimes, in those +days, and she was sweet on me, John, then. I'll answer this letter, +and answer it to her, and not her lawyer. Don't you be uneasy, my son. +I'll tend to her. But you had a narrow escape; I don't wonder you, +with your bashfulness, fled homeward to your ma."</p> + +<p>"Then it wasn't my blunder this time, father?"</p> + +<p>"I exonerate you, my son!"</p> + +<p>For once a glow of happiness diffused itself over my much-tried +spirits. I was so exalted that when a young lady came in for a bottle +of bandoline I gave her Spaulding's prepared glue instead; and the +next time I met that young lady she wore a bang—she had used the +new-fangled bandoline, and the only way to get the stuff out of her +hair was to cut it off.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>HE ENACTS THE PART OF GROOMSMAN.</h3> + + +<p>"Out of the frying-pan into the fire!" This should have been my chosen +motto from the beginning. The performance of the maddening feat +indicated in the proverb has been the principal business of my life. I +am always finding myself in the frying-pan, and always flopping out +into the fire. My father's interference saved me from the dreadful old +creature into whose net I had stumbled when I fled from my native +village, only to return with the certainty that I was unfit to cope +with the world outside of it.</p> + +<p>"I will never put my foot beyond the township line again," I vowed to +my secret soul. I had a harrowing sorrow preying upon me all the +remainder of the winter. I was given to understand that Belle Marigold +was actually engaged to Fred Hencoop. And she might have been mine! +Alas, that mighty <i>might</i>!</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Of all sad words of tongue or pen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The saddest are these—'It might have been!'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I am positive that when I first came home from school she admired me +very much. She welcomed my early attentions. It was only the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +ridiculous blunders into which my bashfulness continually drove me +that alienated her regard. If I had not caught my foot in the reins +that time I got out of the buggy in front of her house—if I had not +fallen in the water and had my clothes shrink in drying—nor choked +almost to death—nor got under the counter—nor failed to "speak my +piece"—nor sat down in that mud-puddle—nor committed suicide—nor +run away from home—nor performed any other of the thousand-and-one +absurd feats into which my constitutional embarrassment was +everlastingly urging me, I declare boldly, "Belle might have been +mine." She had encouraged me at first. Now it was too late. She had +"declined," as Tennyson says, "on a lower love than mine"—on Fred +Hencoop's.</p> + +<p>The thought was despair. Never did I realized of what the human heart +is capable until Belle came into the store, one lovely spring morning, +looking like a seraph in a new spring bonnet, and blushingly—with a +saucy flash of her dark eyes that made her rising color all the more +divine—inquired for table-damask and 4-4 sheetings.</p> + +<p>With an ashen brow and quivering lip, I displayed before her our best +assortment of table-cloths and napkins, pillow-casing and sheeting. +Her mother accompanied her to give her the benefit of her experience; +and kept telling her daughter to choose the best, and what and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> how +many dozens she had before she was married.</p> + +<p>They ran up a big bill at the store that morning, and father came +behind the counter to help, and was mightily pleased; but I felt as if +I were measuring off cloth for my own shroud.</p> + +<p>"Come, John, you go do up the sugar for Widow Smith, her boy is +waiting," said my parent, seeing the muddle into which I was getting +things. "I will attend to these ladies—twelve yards of the +pillow-casing, did you say, Mrs. Marigold?"</p> + +<p>I moved down to the end of the store and weighed and tied up in brown +paper the "three pounds of white sugar to make cake for the +sewin'-society," which the lad had asked for. A little girl came in +for a pound of bar-soap, and I attended to her wants. Then another +boy, with a basket, came in a hurry for a dozen of eggs. You see, ours +was one of those village-stores that combine all things.</p> + +<p>While I waited on these insignificant customers father measured off +great quantities of white goods for the two ladies; and I strained my +ears to hear every word that was said. They asked father if he was +going to New York <i>soon</i>? He said, in about ten days. Then Mrs. +Marigold confided to him that they wanted him to purchase twenty-five +yards of white corded silk.</p> + +<p>If every cord in that whole piece of silk had been drawing about my +throat I couldn't have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> felt more suffocated. I sat right down, I felt +so faint, in a tub of butter. I had just sense enough left to remember +that I had on my new spring lavender pants. The butter was +disgustingly soft and mushy.</p> + +<p>"Come here, John, and add up this bill," called father.</p> + +<p>"I can't; I'm sick."</p> + +<p>I had got up from the tub and was leaning on the counter—I was pale, +I know.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Belle cast one guilty look in my direction. "It's the spring weather, +I dare say," she said softly to my parent.</p> + +<p>I sneaked out of the back door and went across the yard to the house +to change my pants. I <i>was</i> sick, and I did not emerge from my room +until the dinner-bell rang.</p> + +<p>I went down then, and found father, usually so good-natured, looking +cross, as he carved the roast beef.</p> + +<p>"You will never be good for anything, John," was his salutation—"at +least, not as a clerk. I've a good mind to write to Captain Hall to +take you to the North Pole."</p> + +<p>"What's up, father?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing!" <i>very</i> sarcastically. "That white sugar you sent Mrs. +Smith was table-salt, and she made a whole batch of cake out of it +before she discovered her mistake. She was out of temper when she flew +in the store, I tell you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> I had not only to give her the sugar, but +enough butter and eggs to make good her loss, and throw in a neck-tie +to compensate her for waste of time. Before she got away, in came the +mother of the little girl to whom you had given a slab of molasses +candy for bar-soap, and said that the child had brought nothing home +but some streaks of molasses on her face. Just as I was coming out to +dinner the other boy brought back the porcelain eggs you had given him +with word that 'Ma had biled 'em an hour, and she couldn't even budge +the shells.' So you see, my son, that in a miscellaneous store you are +quite out of your element."</p> + +<p>"It was that flirt of a Belle Marigold that upset him," said mother, +laughing so that she spilled the gravy on the table-cloth. "He'll be +all right when she is once Mrs. Hencoop."</p> + +<p>That very evening Fred came in the store to ask me to be his +groomsman.</p> + +<p>"We're going to be married the first of June," he told me, grinning +like an idiot.</p> + +<p>"Does Belle know that you invite me to be groomsman?" I responded, +gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she suggested that you be asked. Rose Ellis is to be +bridesmaid."</p> + +<p>"Very well; I accept."</p> + +<p>"All right, old fellow. Thank you," slapping me on the back.</p> + +<p>As I lay tossing restlessly on my bed that night—after an hour spent +in a vain attempt to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> take the butter out of my lavenders with French +chalk—I made a new and firm resolution. I would make Belle sorry that +she had given her preference to Fred. I would so bear myself—during +our previous meetings and consultations, and during the day of the +ceremony—that she should bitterly repent not having given me an +opportunity to conquer my diffidence before taking up with Frederick +Hencoop. The opportunity was given me to redeem myself. I would prove +that, although modest, I was a gentleman; that the blushing era of +inexperience could be succeeded by one of calm grandeur. Chesterfield +could never have been more quietly self-possessed; Beau Brummell more +imperturbable. I would get by heart all the little formalities of the +occasion, and, when the time came, I would execute them with +consummate ease.</p> + +<p>These resolutions comforted me—supported me under the weight of +despair I had to endure. Ha! yes. I would show some people that some +things could be done as well as others.</p> + +<p>It was four weeks to the first of June. As I had ruined my lavender +trousers I ordered another pair, with suitable neck-tie, vest, and +gloves, from New York. I also ordered three different and +lately-published books on etiquette. I studied in all three of these +the etiquette of weddings. I thoroughly posted myself on the ancient, +the present, and the future duties of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> "best men" on such occasions. I +learned how they do it in China, in Turkey, in Russia, in New Zealand, +more particularly how it is done, at present, in England and America. +As the day drew nigh I felt equal to the emergency I had a powerful +motive for acquitting myself handsomely. I wanted to show <i>her</i> what a +mistake she had made.</p> + +<p>The wedding was to take place in church at eight o'clock in the +evening. The previous evening we—that is, the bride-elect, groom, +bridesmaid, and groomsman, parents, and two or three friends—had a +private rehearsal, one of the friends assuming the part of clergyman. +All went merry as a marriage bell. I was the soul of ease and grace: +Fred was the awkward one, stepping on the bride's train, dropping the +ring, and so forth.</p> + +<p>"I declare, Mr. Flutter, I never saw any one improve as you have," +said Belle, aside to me, when we had returned to her house. "I do hope +poor Fred will get along better to-morrow. I shall be really vexed at +him if anything goes wrong."</p> + +<p>"You must forgive a little flustration on his part," I loftily +answered. "Perhaps, were I in his place, I should be agitated too."</p> + +<p>Well, the next evening came, and at seven o'clock I repaired to the +squire's residence. Fred was already there, walking up and down the +parlor, a good deal excited, but dressed faultlessly and looking +frightfully well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, John," was his first greeting, "aren't you going to wear any +cravat?"</p> + +<p>I put my hand up to my neck and dashed madly back a quarter of a mile +for the delicate white silk tie I had left on my dressing bureau. +This, of course, made me uncomfortably warm. When I got back to the +squire's I was in a perspiration, felt that my calm brow was flushed, +and had to wipe it with my handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Come," said that impatient Fred, "you have just two minutes to get +your gloves on."</p> + +<p>My hands were damp, and being hurried had the effect to make me +nervous, in spite of four long weeks' constant resolution. What with +the haste and perspiration, I tore the thumb completely out of the +left glove.</p> + +<p>Never mind; no time to mend, in spite of the proverb.</p> + +<p>The bride came down-stairs, cool, white, and delicious as an orange +blossom. She was helped into one carriage; Fred and I entered another.</p> + +<p>"I hope you feel cool," I said to Fred.</p> + +<p>"I hope <i>you</i> do," he retorted.</p> + +<p>I have always laid the catastrophe which followed to the first mistake +in having to fly home for my neck-tie. I was disconcerted by that, and +I couldn't exactly get concerted again.</p> + +<p>I don't know what happened after the carriage stopped at the church +door—I must take the report of my friends for it. They say that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +bolted at the last moment, and followed the bride up one aisle instead +of the groom up the other, as I should have done. But I was perfectly +calm and collected. Oh, yes, that was why, when we attempted to form +in front of the altar, I insisted on standing next to Belle, and when +I was finally pushed into my place by the irate Fred, I kept diving +forward every time the clergyman said anything, trying to take the +bride's hand, and responding, "Belle, I take thee to be my lawful, +wedded," answering, "I do," loudly, to every question, even to that +"Who gives this woman?" etc., until every man, woman, and child in +church was tittering and giggling, and the holy man had to come to a +full pause, and request me to realize that it was not I who was being +married.</p> + +<p>"I do. With all my worldly goods I thee endow," was my reply to his +reminder.</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake subside, or I'll thrash you within an inch of your +life when I get out of this," whispered Fred.</p> + +<p>Dimly mistrusting that I was on the wrong track, I turned and seized +Mrs. Marigold by the hand, and began to feel in my pocket for a ring, +because I saw the groom taking one out of his pocket.</p> + +<p>The giggling and tittering increased; somebody—father or the +constable—took me by the shoulder and marched me out of that; after +which, I suppose, the ceremony was duly con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>cluded. I only know that +somebody knocked me down about five minutes afterward—I have been +told that it was the bridegroom who did it—and that all the books of +etiquette on earth won't fortify a man against the attacks of +constitutional bashfulness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>MEETS A PAIR OF BLUE EYES.</h3> + + +<p>I kept pretty quiet the remainder of that summer—didn't even attend +church for several weeks. In fact, I got father to give me a vacation, +and beat a retreat into the country during the month of July, to an +aunt of mine, who lived on a small farm with her husband, her son of +fourteen, and a "hand." Their house was at least a mile from the +nearest neighbor's, and as I was less afraid of Aunt Jerusha than of +any other being of her sex, and as there was not another frock, +sun-bonnet, or apron within the radius of a mile, I promised myself a +month of that negative bliss which comes from retrospection, solitude, +and the pleasure of following the men about the harvest-field. Sitting +quietly under some shadowing tree, with my line cast into the still +pool of a little babbling trout-brook, where it was held in some +hollow of nature's hand, I had leisure to forget the past and to make +good resolutions for the future. Belle Marigold was forever lost to +me. She was Mrs. Hencoop; and Fred had knocked me down because I had +been so unfortunate as to lose my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> presence of mind at his wedding. +All was over between us.</p> + +<p>The course now open for me to pursue was to forever steel my heart to +the charms of the other sex, to attend strictly to business, to grow +rich and honored, while, at the same time, I hardened into a sort of +granite obelisk, incapable of blushing, faltering, or stepping on +other people's toes.</p> + +<p>One day, as the men were hauling in the "loaded wains" from the fields +to the great barn, I sat under my favorite tree, as usual, waiting for +a bite. Three speckled beauties already lay in a basin of water at my +side, and I was thinking what a pleasant world this would be were +there no girls in it, when suddenly I heard a burst of silvery +laughter!</p> + +<p>Looking up, there, on the opposite side of the brook, stood two young +ladies! They were evidently city girls. Their morning toilets were the +perfection of simple elegance—hats, parasols, gloves, dresses, the +very cream of style.</p> + +<p>Both of them were pretty—one a dark, bright-eyed brunette, the other +a blonde, fair as a lily and sweet as a rose. Their faces sparkled +with mischief, but they made a great effort to resume their dignity.</p> + +<p>I jumped to my feet, putting one of them—my feet, I mean—in the +basin of water I had for my trout.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's too bad to disturb you, sir," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> dark-eyed one. "You +were just having a nibble, I do believe. But we have lost our way. We +are boarding at the Widow Cooper's, and came out for a ramble in the +woods, and got lost; and here, just as we thought we were on the right +way home, we came to this naughty little river, or whatever you call +it, and can't go a step farther. Is there no way of getting across it, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"There is a bridge about a quarter of a mile above here, but to get to +it you will have to go through a field in which there is a very cross +bull. Then there is a log just down here a little ways—I'll show it +to you, ladies"; and tangling my beautiful line inextricably in my +embarrassment, I threw down my fishing-rod and led the way, I on one +side of the stream and they on the other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" cried Blue-Eyes, when we reached the log. "I'll be sure to +get dizzy and fall off."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Black-Eyes, bravely, and walked over without winking.</p> + +<p>"I shall never—never dare!" screamed Blue-Eyes.</p> + +<p>"Allow me to assist you, miss," I said, in my best style, going on the +log and reaching out my hand to steady her.</p> + +<p>She laid her little gray glove in my palm, and put one tiny slipper on +the log, and then she stood, the little coquette! shrinking and +laughing, and taking a step and retreating, and I fall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>ing head over +ears in love with her, deeper and deeper every second. I do believe, +if the other one hadn't been there, I would have taken her right up in +my arms and carried her over. Well, Black-Eyes began to scold, and so, +at last, she ventured across, and then she said she was tired and +thirsty, and did wish she had a glass of milk; and so I asked her to +go to the house, and rest a few minutes, and Aunt Jerusha would give +them some milk. You'd better believe aunt opened her eyes, when she +saw me marching in as bold as brass, with two stylish young ladies; +while, the moment I met her sly look, all my customary confusion—over +which I had contrived to hold a tight rein—ran rampant and jerked at +my self-possession until I lost control of it!</p> + +<p>"These young ladies, Aunt Jerusha," I stammered, "would like a glass +of milk. They've got lost, and don't know where they are, and can't +find their way back, and I expect I'll have to show them the way."</p> + +<p>"They're very welcome," said aunt, who was kindness itself, and she +went into the milk-pantry and brought out two large goblets of +morning's milk, with the rising cream sticking around the inside.</p> + +<p>I started forward gallantly, took the server from aunt's hand, and +conveyed it, with almost the grace of a French waiter, across the +large kitchen to where the two beautiful beings were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> resting in the +chairs which I had set for them. Unfortunately, being blinded by my +bashfulness, I caught my toe in a small hole in aunt's rag carpet, the +result being that I very abruptly deposited both glasses of milk, +bottom up, in the lap of Blue-Eyes. A feeling of horror overpowered me +as I saw that exquisite toilet in ruins—those dainty ruffles, those +cunning bows the color of her eyes, submerged in the lacteal fluid.</p> + +<p>I think a ghastly pallor must have overspread my face as I stood +motionless, grasping the server in my clenched hands.</p> + +<p>What do you think Blue-Eyes said? <i>This</i> is the way she "gave me +fits." Looking up prettily to my aunt, she says:</p> + +<p>"Oh, madam, I am <i>so</i> sorry for your carpet."</p> + +<p>"Your dress!" exclaimed Aunt Jerusha.</p> + +<p>"Never mind <i>that</i>, madam. It can go to the laundry."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never!" continued aunt, flying about for a towel, and wiping +her off as well as she could; "but John Flutter is so careless. He's +<i>always</i> blundering. He means well enough, but he's bashful. You'd +think a clerk in a dry-goods store would get over it some time now, +wouldn't you? Well, young ladies, I'll get some more milk for you; but +I won't trust it in <i>his</i> hands."</p> + +<p>When Aunt Jerusha let the cat out of the bag about my bashfulness, +Blue-Eyes flashed, at me from under her long eyelashes a glance so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +roguish, so perfectly infatuating, that my heart behaved like a +thermometer that is plunged first into a tea-kettle and then into +snow; it went up into my throat, and then down into my boots. I still +grasped the server and stood there like a revolving lantern—one +minute white, another red. Finally my heart settled into my boots. It +was evident that fate was against me. I was <i>doomed</i> to go on leading +a blundering existence. My admiration for this lovely girl was already +a thousand times stronger than any feeling I had ever had for Belle +Marigold. Yet how ridiculous I must appear to her. How politely she +was laughing at me.</p> + +<p>The sense of this, and the certainty that I was born to blunder, came +home to me with crushing weight. I turned slowly to Aunt Jerusha, who +was bringing fresh milk, and said, with a simplicity to which pathos +must have given dignity:</p> + +<p>"Aunt, will you show them the way to Widow Cooper's? I am going to the +barn to hang myself," and I walked out.</p> + +<p>"Is he in earnest?" I heard Blue-Eyes inquire.</p> + +<p>"Wall, now, I shouldn't be surprised," avowed Aunt Jerusha. "He's been +powerful low-spirited lately. You see, ladies, he was born that +bashful that life is a burden to him."</p> + +<p>I walked on in the direction of the barn; I would not pause to listen +or to cast a backward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> glance. Doubtless, my relative told them of my +previous futile attempt to poison myself—perhaps became so interested +in relating anecdotes of her nephew's peculiar temperament, that she +forgot the present danger which threatened him. At least, it was some +time before she troubled herself to follow me to ascertain if my +threat meant anything serious.</p> + +<p>When she finally arrived at the large double door, standing wide open +for the entrance of the loaded wagons, she gave a sudden shriek.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/image_089.jpg" width="300" height="778" alt=""I STOOD READY FOR THE FATAL LEAP."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"I STOOD READY FOR THE FATAL LEAP."</span> +</div> + +<p>I was standing on the beam which supported the light flooring of the +hay-loft; beneath was the threshing-floor; above me the great rafters +of the barn, and around one of these I had fastened a rope, the other +terminus of which was knotted about my neck.</p> + +<p>I stood ready for the fatal leap.</p> + +<p>As she screamed, I slightly raised my hand:</p> + +<p>"Silence, Aunt Jerusha, and receive my parting instructions. Tell +Blue-Eyes that I love her madly, but not to blame herself for my +untimely end. The ruin of her dress was only the last drop in the +cup—the last straw on the camel's back. Farewell!" and as she threw +up her arms and shrieked to me to desist, I rolled up my eyes—and +sprang from the beam.</p> + + + +<p>For a moment I thought myself dead. The experience was different from +what I had anticipated. Instead of feeling choked, I had a pain in my +legs, and it seemed to me that I had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> shut together like an +opera-glass. Still I knew that I must be dead, and I kept very quiet +until the sound of little screams and gurgles of—what?—<i>laughter</i>, +smote my ears!</p> + +<p>Then I opened my eyes and looked about. I was not dangling in the air +overhead, but standing on the threshing-floor, with a bit of broken +halter about my neck. The rope had played traitor and given way +without even chafing my throat.</p> + + +<p>I dare say the sight of me, standing there with my eyes closed and +looking fully convinced that I was dead, must have <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>been vastly +amusing to the two young ladies, who had followed Aunt Jerusha to the +door. They laughed as if I had been the prince of clowns, and had just +performed a most funny trick in the ring. I began to feel as if I had, +too.</p> + +<p>Aunt rushed forward and gave me a shake.</p> + +<p>"Another blunder, John," she said; "it's plain as the nose on a man's +face that Providence never intended you to commit suicide."</p> + +<p>And then Blue-Eyes, repressing her mirth, came forward, half shy and +half coaxing, and said to me:</p> + +<p>"How my sister and I would feel if you had killed yourself on our +account! Come! do please show us the way to our boarding-house. Mamma +will be so anxious about us."</p> + +<p>Cunning witch! she knows, how to twist a man around her little finger.</p> + +<p>"Come," she continued, "let <i>me</i> untie this ugly rope."</p> + +<p>And I did let her, and picked up my hat to walk with them to the Widow +Cooper's.</p> + +<p>They made themselves very agreeable on the way—so that I would think +no more of hanging myself, I suppose.</p> + +<p>Only one more little incident occurred on the road. We met a tramp. He +was a roughly-dressed fellow, with a straw hat such as farmers wear, +whose broad brim nearly hid his face. He sauntered up impudently, and, +before we could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> pass him, he chucked Blue-Eyes under the chin. In +less than half a second he was flying backward over the rail fence, +although he was a tall fellow, more than my weight.</p> + +<p>"Now," said I proudly to myself, "she will forget that unlucky circus +performance in the barn."</p> + +<p>Imagine my sensations when she turned on me with the fire flashing out +of those soft blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"What did you fling my brother over the fence for?"</p> + +<p>That was what she asked me.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>HE CATCHES A TROUT AND PRESENTS IT TO A LADY.</h3> + + +<p>"Some achieve greatness; some have greatness thrust upon them." I +think I have achieved greatness. Of one thing I am convinced: that it +is only necessary to do some one thing <i>well</i>—as well or better than +any one else—in order to acquire distinction. The thing I do really +well—better than any living human being—is to blunder. I defy +competition. There are champion tight-rope dancers, billiard players, +opera singers, swindlers, base-ballists, candidates for the +Presidency. I am the champion blunderer. You remember the man who +asked of another, "Who is that coarse, homely creature across the +room?" and received for answer, "That creature is my wife!" Well, I +<i>ought</i> to have been that man, although in that case I did not happen +to be. My compliments always turn out to be left-handed ones; all my +remarks, all my efforts to please are but so many never-ending +<i>faux-pas</i>.</p> + +<p>As a general seeks to retrieve one defeat by some act of unparalleled +bravery, so had I sought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> to wipe out from the memory of the lovely +pair whom I escorted, my shameful failure to hang myself, by gallantly +pitching over the fence the fellow who had made himself too familiar +with the fairer of the two; and, as a <i>matter of course</i>, he turned +out to be her favorite brother.</p> + +<p>He was a good-natured fellow, after all—a perfect gentleman; and when +I stammered out my excuses, saying that I had mistaken him for a +tramp, he laughed and shook hands with me, explaining that he was in +his fishing costume, and saying very handsomely that were his dear +sister ever in such danger of being insulted, he hoped some person as +plucky as I would be on hand to defend her. This was applying cold +cream to my smarting self-love. But it did not prevent me from +observing the sly glances exchanged between the girls, nor prevent my +hearing the little bursts of suppressed giggling which they pretended +were caused by the funny motions of the hay-cutter in a neighboring +field. So, as their brother could show them the way to Widow Cooper's, +I said good-morning rather abruptly. He called me back, however, and +asked if I would not like to join him on a fishing tramp in the +morning. I said "I would, and I knew all the best places."</p> + +<p>Then we shook hands again, while the young ladies smiled like angels; +but I had not more than turned a bend in the road, which hid me from +view, than I heard such shrieks and screams<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> of laughter as turned my +two ears into boiled lobsters for the remainder of the day.</p> + +<p>But, spite of my burning ears, I could not get mad at those girls. +They had a right to laugh at me, for I had, as usual, made myself +ridiculous. I was head over ears in love with Blue-Eyes. The feeling I +had once cherished toward Belle Marigold, compared with my sudden +adoration of this glorious stranger, was as bean-soup to the condensed +extract of beef, as water to wine, as milk to cream, as mush to +mince-pie.</p> + +<p>I do not think I slept a wink that night. My room was suffocating, and +I took a pillow, and crawled out on the roof of the kitchen, just +under my window, and stretched myself out on the shingles, and winked +back at the stars which winked at me, and thought of the bright, +flashing eyes of the bewitching unknown. I resolved to seek her +acquaintance, through her brother, and never, never to blunder again, +but to be calm and cool like other young men—calm, cool, and +persistent. It might have been four o'clock in the morning that I came +to this determination, and so soothing was it, that I was able to take +a brief nap after it.</p> + +<p>I was awakened by young Knickerbocker, the lady's brother, tickling +the soles of my feet with a rake, and I started up with such violence +from a sound sleep, that I slipped on the inclined plane, rolled down +to the edge, and went over into a hogshead of rain-water just +underneath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A capital way to take your morning bath," smiled Knickerbocker. +"Come, Mr. Flutter, get out of that, and find your rod and line, and +come along. I have a good breakfast in this basket, which we will eat +in some dewy nook of the woods, while we are waiting for a nibble. The +early bird catches the worm, you know."</p> + +<p>"I'll be with you in a moment," I answered with a blank grin, +determined to be cool and composed, though my sudden plunge had +somewhat dazed me; and scrambling out of the primitive cistern, I +regained the roof by means of a ladder standing against a cherry-tree +not far away.</p> + +<p>Consoling myself with the idea that this early adventure was an +<i>accident</i> and not a <i>blunder</i>, I hastily dressed, and rejoined my new +friend, with rod and line, and a box of flies.</p> + +<p>We had a delightful morning. Knickerbocker was affable. Alone in the +solitudes of nature with one of my own sex, I was tolerably at home, +and flattered myself that I appeared to considerable advantage, +especially as I really was a skillful angler, and landed two trout to +my friend's landing one. By ten o'clock we each had a lovely string of +the speckled beauties, and decided to go home for the day, returning +on the morrow.</p> + +<p>The path we took out of the woods came into the highway just in front +of the Widow Cooper's. I knew it, but I felt quite cool, and +deter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>mined to make some excuse to catch another glimpse of my +companion's sister. I had one splendid fish among my treasures, +weighing over two pounds, while none of his weighed over a pound. I +would present that trout to Flora Knickerbocker! I would ask her to +have the cook prepare it for her special delectation.</p> + +<p>We emerged upon the lawn and sauntered up to the front of the house, +where some half-dozen ladies were sitting on the long porch, doing +worsted-work and reading novels. I saw my charmer among them, and, as +she looked up from the book she was reading, and shot at me a +mischievous glance from those thrilling eyes, I felt my coolness +melting at the most alarming rate.</p> + +<p>How I envied the easy, careless grace with which my friend sauntered +up to the group! Why should I not be as graceful, as easy? I would +make a desperate effort to "assume a virtue if I had it not." I, too, +sauntered elegantly, lifted my hat killingly, and approached my +charmer just as if I didn't realize that I was turning all the colors +of the chameleon.</p> + +<p>"Miss Knickerbocker," I began, "will you deign to accept the champion +trout of the season?"</p> + +<p>The string of glistening fish hung from the fine patent rod which I +carried over my shoulder. I never could undo the tangle of how it all +came about; but, in my embarrassment, I must have handled things not +quite so gracefully as I in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>tended—the line had become unwound, and +the hook dangling at the end of it as I attempted to lower the rod +caught in my coat collar behind, and the more I tugged the more it +would not come out. I flushed and jerked, and tried to see the back of +my head, while the ladies smiled encouragingly, rendering me more and +more desperate, until I gave a fearful twitch, and the barb came +flying out and across the porch, striking a prim maiden lady on the +head.</p> + +<p>More and more confused, I gave a sudden pull to relieve the lady, and +succeeded in getting a very queer bite indeed. At first I thought, in +my horror, that I had drawn the whole top of the unfortunate +spinster's head off; but a second frightened look showed me that it +was only her scalpette, or false front, or whatever the dear creatures +call a half-wig, all frizzes and crimps. Almost faint with dismay at +the glare of anger in the lady's eyes, and the view of the bald white +spot on top of her head, I hurriedly drew the thing toward me to +remove it from the hook, when a confounded little Spitz, seeing the +spot, and thinking, doubtless, I was playing with him, made a dash at +the wig, and in less time than it takes to tell it, that thing of +beauty was a wreck forever. Its unfortunate owner, with a look which +nearly annihilated me, fled up-stairs to her apartment.</p> + +<p>Nor was my discomfiture then ended. That Spitz—that precious +Spitz—belonged to Blue-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>Eyes; I tried to coax him to relinquish his +game; he would not be persuaded, and, in the ardor of his pursuit, he +swallowed the cruel hook. I had wanted to present her with a trout, +and had only succeeded in hooking her favorite pet—"her darling, her +dear, dear little Spitzy-witzy," as she called him, in tones of +mingled endearment and anguish, as she flew to rescue him from his +cruel fate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what can I do?" she sobbed, looking up at her brother.</p> + +<p>"Cut him open and remove the hook," he answered gravely; "there is no +other possible way of relieving the poor fellow."</p> + +<p>"I wish <i>I</i> had swallowed it," I murmured, bitterly, throwing my fish +into the grass of the lawn, and pulling at my mustache desperately in +my despair of ever doing as other people do.</p> + +<p>"I really wish you had," snapped Blue-Eyes, satirically, and with that +I walked off and left them to take Spitz from around that fish-hook +the best way they could.</p> + +<p>I don't imagine I left many female friends on that porch, nor did I +see any of the Widow Cooper's boarders again for a week, when we were +brought together, under rather peculiar circumstances at a circus.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>HE GOES TO THE CIRCUS.</h3> + + +<p>In vain I struggled to regain the peace of mind I was beginning to +enjoy before I met Flora Knickerbocker. I could not forget her; I +dared not approach her—for I had heard a rumor that her dog had died +a <i>barb</i>-arous death, and his young mistress was inconsolable. I spent +the long, lazy summer days in dreaming of her, and wishing that +bashfulness were a curable disease.</p> + +<p>One morning, very early, when</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The window slowly grew a glimmering square,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I heard an unwonted commotion on our quiet road, and slipping out of +bed, I went to the window to see "what was up." It was a circus +company, with a menagerie attachment, winding through the dim dawn, +elephant and all.</p> + +<p>For a moment my heart beat, as in its childish days, at sight of the +unique cavalcade; but it soon grew sad, and ached worse than ever at +the reflection that Miss Flora was a city girl, and would despise a +circus. However, some time during the day I heard from aunt that +<i>all</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> of Widow Cooper's boarders had made up their minds to attend, +that evening, the performance, which was to take place in a small town +two miles from us. These fine city folks doubtless thought it would be +an innocent "lark" to go to the circus in this obscure country +village.</p> + +<p>I had outgrown my childish taste for the hyena, the gnu, and the +anaconda; I was indifferent to the india-rubber man; nor did I care +much for the beautiful bare-back rider who was to flash through the +hoops like a meteor through the orbits of the planets; but I did long +to steal one more look, unseen, unsuspected, at the sweet face which +was lovelier to me, even in its anger, than any other. I had been the +means of Spitz's death—very well, I could hide myself in some obscure +corner of the amphitheater, and gaze at her mournfully from the +distance. While she gazed at the ring, I would gaze at <i>her</i>.</p> + +<p>So I went to the circus, along with a good many other people. <i>She</i> +came early with the Cooper party, and seemed interested and amused by +the rough-board seats, and the novelty of the scene, and the audience. +I had not yet chosen my perch on the boards, for I wanted to get as +near to her as I could without her observing me.</p> + +<p>The sight of her—resolved as I was to be cool, calm, and +collected—so affected my eyesight that I walked right into the rope +stretched around the ring, and fell over into the tan-bark.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>All the boys hooted and laughed, and made personal remarks, wanting to +know if I were the clown, and similar questions, which I heard with +silent dignity. I hoped and prayed that <i>she</i> had not recognized the +tumbler who had begun the performances as an amateur, and without any +salary from Barnum. They were on the opposite side of the circle, and +perhaps I escaped their remark.</p> + +<p>Contriving to mingle myself with some newcomers, I made my way more +cautiously to within a few feet of my charmer. I did not intend she +should see me, and was surprised when she whispered to her brother, +upon which he immediately looked in my direction and beckoned me to a +seat in their party.</p> + +<p>Oh, bliss! In another moment I was at her feet—sitting on the plank +next lower than that which held her lovely form, with the dainty +billows of lace and organdie rippling around me, and her little toes +pressed into the small of my back. Was this a common, vulgar +circus—with a menagerie attachment? To me it was the seventh heaven. +The clown leaped lightly into the ring, cracked his whip, and began +his witticisms. I heard him as one hears the murmur of the sea in his +dreams. The beautiful bare-back rider galloped, ran, jumped, smiled, +kissed her hand, and trotted off the stage with Master Clown at her +heels and the whole scene was to me only as a scene in a painting on +which my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> eye casually fell. The only living, breathing fact of which +I was really conscious was that those blue eyes were shining like +stars just over my head.</p> + +<p>In the pauses of the drama, the lemonade man went by. What was he to +me, or I to him? Noisy boys or verdant farming youths might patronize +him at their will—I slaked my thirst with deep draughts of a nectar +no lemonade-fellow could dispense at two cents a glass. While the +cannon-ball man was catching a ten-pound ball between his teeth, and +the boneless boy was tying himself in a double bow-knot, I was +pleasing myself with images of the darling little Spitz I would seek, +purchase, and present to Miss Flora in place of the one who had +thoughtlessly swallowed my fish-hook.</p> + +<p>"Were you ever in love, young man?" suddenly asked the clown, after +the india-rubber athlete had got tired of turning himself, like a +dozen flap-jacks on a hot griddle.</p> + +<p>The question startled me. I looked up. It seemed to me, as he eyed me, +that he had addressed it particularly to me. I blushed. Some strange +country girls on either side of me began to titter. I blushed more +decidedly. The motley chap in the ring must have seen it. He grinned +from ear to ear, walked up to the very edge of the rope, and repeated:</p> + +<p>"Were you ever in love, young man?"</p> + +<p>There were young men all round me; he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> might have looked at +Knickerbocker, or any one of a dozen others; if I had not been +supersensitive I never should have imagined that he meant to be +personal.</p> + +<p>If I had not retained the self-possession of an egotist, I should have +reflected that it was not the thing to notice the vulgar wit of a +circus-clown. Unfortunately self-possession is the last possession of +a bashful man. I half rose from my seat, demanding fiercely:</p> + +<p>"Are you speaking to me, sir?"</p> + +<p>"If the shoe fits, you can wear it," was the grinning answer; and then +there was a shout from the whole audience—hooting, laughter, clapping +of hands—and I felt that I had made a Dundreary of myself.</p> + +<p>"We beg parding," went on the rascal, stepping back and bowing. "We +had no intentions of being personal—meant no young gentleman in +partikilar. We <i>always</i> make a point of asking a few questions in +general. Here comes mademoiselle, the celebrated tight-rope dancer," +etc., etc., and the thousand eyes which had been glued to my scarlet +face were diverted to a new attraction.</p> + +<p>"I'll thrash that scoundrel within an inch of his life," I said to +young Knickerbocker, who was sitting behind me beside his sister.</p> + +<p>"You will have to whip the whole circus, then; these fellows all stand +by each other. Your policy is to let the matter drop."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll whip the whole circus, then," I retorted, savagely.</p> + +<p>"Please don't," said a soft voice, and I wilted under it.</p> + +<p>"It maddens me to be always made ridiculous before <i>you</i>," I +whispered. "I'm a dreadfully unfortunate man, Miss Knick——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Fire</i>!"</p> + +<p>A frightful cry in such a place as that! Something flashed up +brightly—I saw flames about something in the ring—the crowd arose +from the benches—women screamed—men yelled.</p> + +<p>"Sit still, Flora!" I heard young Knickerbocker say, sternly.</p> + +<p>I thought of a million things in the thousandth part of a second—of +the flaming canvas, the deadly crush, the wild beasts, terrified and +breaking from their cages. It was folly, it was madness, to linger a +moment in hopes of the fire being subdued. I looked toward the +entrance—it was not far from us; a few people were going quickly out. +I was stronger than her brother; I could fight my way through any +crowd with that slight form held in one arm.</p> + +<p>"<i>Fire</i>!"</p> + +<p>I dallied with fate no longer. Grasping Flora by her slender waist, I +dragged her from her seat, and hurried her along through the +thickening throng. When she could no longer keep her feet. I supported +her entirely, elbowing, pushing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> struggling with the maddest of them. +I reached the narrow exit—I fought my way through like a tiger. +Bleeding, exhausted, my hat gone, my coat torn from my back, I at last +emerged under the calm moonlight with my darling held to my panting +heart. Bearing her apart from the jostling crowd, I looked backward, +expecting to see the devouring flames stream high from the combustible +roof. As yet they had not broken through. I set my treasure gently +down on her little feet. Her bonnet was gone, her wealth of golden +hair hung disheveled about her pale face.</p> + +<p>"Are we safe?" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank Heaven, your precious life is saved!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! where is my brother?"</p> + +<p>"Here!" said a cold voice behind us, and young Knickerbocker coolly +took his sister on his own arm. "What in the name of folly did you +drag her off in that style for? A pretty-looking girl you are, Flora, +I must say!"</p> + +<p>"But the fire!" I gasped.</p> + +<p>"Was all out in less than a minute. A lamp exploded, but fortunately +set fire to nothing else. I never saw anything more utterly ridiculous +than you dragging my sister off through that crowd, and me sitting +still and laughing at you. I don't know whether to look on you as a +hero or a fool, Mr. Flutter."</p> + +<p>"Look on me as a blunderer," I said meekly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the revulsion of feeling was too great; I felt myself turning sick +and faint, and when I knew anything again I was home in bed. And now I +owe Miss Flora a new bonnet as well as a little dog.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>A LEAP FOR LIFE.</h3> + + +<p>It is impossible to make an ordinary person understand the chaos of +mingled feelings with which I heard, two days after the circus +performance in which I had so large a share, that Blue-Eyes and +Company had departed for a tour of the watering-places—feelings of +anguish and relief mixed in about equal proportions. I madly loved +her, but I had known from the first that my love was hopeless, and the +thought of meeting her, after having made myself so ridiculous, was +torture. Therefore I felt relief that I was no longer in danger of +encountering the mocking laughter of those blue eyes, but I lost my +appetite. I moped, pined, grew pale, freckled, and listless.</p> + +<p>"What's the use of wasting harvest apples making dumplings, when you +don't eat none, John?" asked my aunt, one day at dinner, after the +hands had left the table.</p> + +<p>"Aunt," replied I, solemnly, "don't mock me with apple dumplings; they +may be light, but my heart is heavy."</p> + +<p>"La, John, try a little east on your heart,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> said she, laughing—by +"east" she meant yeast, I suppose.</p> + +<p>"No, aunt, not 'east,' but west. My mind is made up. I'm going out to +Colorado to fight the Indians."</p> + +<p>She let the two-tined steel fork drop out of her hand.</p> + +<p>"What will your ma say to that?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"I tell you I am going," was my firm reply, and I went.</p> + +<p>Yes, I had long sighed to be a Juan Fernandez, or a Mount Washington +weatherologist, or something lonesome and sad, as my readers know. +Fighting Indians would be a terrible risky business; but compared to +facing the "girls of the period" it would be the merest play. I was +weary of a life that was all mistakes. "Better throw it away," I +thought, bitterly, "and give my scalp to dangle at a redskin's belt, +than make another one of my characteristic and preposterous blunders."</p> + +<p>I had heard that Buffalo Bill was about to start for the Rocky +Mountains, and I wrote to New York asking permission to join him. He +answered that I could, if I was prepared to pay my own way. I +immediately bade my relatives farewell, went home, borrowed two +hundred dollars of father, told mother she was the only woman I wasn't +afraid of, kissed her good-bye, and met Buffalo Bill at the next large +town by appointment, he being already on his way West.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> I came home +<i>after dark</i>, and left again <i>before daylight</i>, and that was the last +I saw of my native village for some time.</p> + +<p>"You don't let on yer much of a fighter?" asked the great scout, as he +saw me hunt all over six pockets and blush like a girl when the +conductor came for our tickets, and finally hand him a postal-card +instead of the bit of pasteboard he was impatiently waiting to punch.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I guess I'll fight like a rat when it comes to that," I answered. +"I'm brave as a lion—only I'm bashful."</p> + +<p>"Great tomahawks! is that yer disease?" groaned Bill.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's my trouble," I said, quite confidentially, for somehow I +seemed to get on with the brave hunter more easily than with the +starched minions of society. "I'm bashful, and I'm tired of civilized +life. I'm always putting my foot in it when I'm trying the hardest to +keep it out. Besides, I'm in love, and the girl I want don't want me. +It's either deliberate suicide or death on the plains with me."</p> + +<p>"Precisely. I understand. <i>I've been thar!</i>" said Buffalo Bill; and we +got along well together from the first.</p> + +<p>He encouraged the idea that in my present state of mind I would make a +magnificent addition to his chosen band; but I have since had some +reason to believe that he was leading me on for the sole purpose of +making a scarecrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> of me—setting me up in some spot frequented by +the redskins, to become their target, while he and his comrades +scooped down from some ambush and wiped out a score or two of them +after I had perished at my post. I <i>suspect</i> this was his plan. He +probably considered that so stupid a blunderer as I deserved no better +fate than to be used as a decoy. I think so myself. I have nothing +like the extravagant opinion of my own merits that I had when I first +launched out into the sea of human conflict.</p> + +<p>At all events, Buffalo Bill was very kind to me all the way out to the +plains; he protected me as if I had been a timid young lady—took +charge of my tickets, escorted me to and fro from the station +eating-houses, almost cut up my food and eating it for me; and if a +woman did but glance in my direction, he scowled ferociously. Under +such patronage I got through without any accident.</p> + +<p>It was the last day of our ride by rail. In the car which we helped to +occupy there was not a single female, and I was happy. A sense of +repose—of safety—stole over me, which even the knowledge that on the +morrow we were to take the war-path could not overcome.</p> + +<p>"Oh," sighed I, "no women! This <i>is</i> bliss!"</p> + +<p>In about five minutes after I had made this remark the train drew up +at one of those little stations that mark off the road, and the scout +got off a minute to see a man. Fatal minute!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> In that brief sixty +seconds of time a female made her appearance in the car door, looked +all along the line, and, either because the seat beside me was the +only vacant one, or because she liked my looks, she came, and, without +so much as "by your leave," plumped down by me.</p> + +<p>"This seat is engaged," I mildly remonstrated, growing as usual very +red.</p> + +<p>She looked around at me, saw me blush, and began to titter.</p> + +<p>"No, young man," said she, "I ain't engaged, but I told ma I bet I +would be before I got to Californy."</p> + +<p>By this time my protector had returned; but, seeing a woman, and a +young woman at that, in his seat, he coolly ignored my imploring looks +and passed out into the next car.</p> + +<p>"I'm going on the platform to smoke," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Be <i>you</i> engaged?" continued my new companion.</p> + +<p>"No, miss," I stammered.</p> + +<p>"Ain't that lucky?" she giggled. "Who knows but what we may make up +our minds to hitch horses afore we get to Californy!" and she eyed me +all over without a bit of bashfulness, and seemed to admire me. My +goodness! this was worse than Alvira Slimmens!</p> + +<p>"But I'm only going a few hours farther, and I'm not a marrying man, +and I'm bound for the Indian country," I murmured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>She remained silent a few moments, and I stole a side-glance at her. +She was a sharp-looking girl; her hair was cut short, and in the +morocco belt about her waist I saw the glitter of a small revolver. +Before I had finished these observations she turned suddenly toward +me, and her black eyes rested fully on me as she asked:</p> + +<p>"Stranger, do you believe in love at first sight?"</p> + +<p>"No—no, indeed, miss; not for worlds!" I murmured, startled.</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>do</i>," said she; "and mebbe you will, yet."</p> + +<p>"I—I don't believe in anything of the kind," I reiterated, getting as +far as possible into my corner of the seat.</p> + +<p>"La! you needn't be bashful," she went on, laughing; "I ain't a-going +to scourge you. Thar's room enough for both of us."</p> + +<p>She subsided again, and again broke out:</p> + +<p>"Bound for the Injun country, are you? So'm I. Whar do you get off?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you said you were going to California?" I remarked, more +and more alarmed.</p> + +<p>Then that girl with the revolver winked at me slyly.</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> going there—in the course of time; but I'm going by easy +stages. I ain't in no hurry. I told ma I'd be married by the time I +got there, and I mean to keep my word I may be six months going, yer +see."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>Another silence, during which I mutely wondered how long it would take +Buffalo Bill to smoke his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Don't believe in love at first sight! Sho!" resumed my companion. +"You ain't got much spunk, you ain't! Why, last week a girl and a +fellow got acquainted in this very car—this very seat, for all I +know—and afore they reached Lone Tree Station they was <i>engaged</i>. +There happened to be a clergyman going out to San Francisco on the +train, and he married 'em afore sunset, he did. When I heerd of that, +I said to myself, 'Sally Spitfire, why don't <i>you</i> fix up and travel, +too? Who knows what may happen?'"</p> + +<p>Unmerciful fates! had I fled from civilization only to fall a prey to +a female like this? It looked like it. There wasn't much fooling about +this damsel's love-making. Cold chills ran down my spine. My eye +avoided hers; I bit my nails and looked out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Ain't much of a talker, are ye?" she ran on. "That just suits me. My +tongue is long enough for both of us. I always told ma I wouldn't +marry a great talker—there'd be one too many in the house."</p> + +<p>I groaned in anguish of spirit; I longed to see a thousand wild and +painted warriors swoop down upon the train. I thought of our peaceful +dry-goods store at home, and I would gladly have sat down in another +butter-tub could I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> have been there. I even thought of earthquakes +with a sudden longing; but we were not near enough the Western shore +to hope for anything so good as an earthquake.</p> + +<p>"I do wonder if thar's a clergyman on <i>this</i> train," remarked the +young lady, reflectively.</p> + +<p>"Supposing there is," I burst out, in desperation, "does any one need +his services? Is anybody going to die?"</p> + +<p>"Not as I know of," was the meaning reply, while Miss Spitfire looked +at me firmly, placing her hand on her revolver as she spoke; "not if +people behave as they ought—like gentlemen—and don't go trifling +with an unprotected girl's affections in a railroad car."</p> + +<p>"Who—who—who's been doing so?" I stammered.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> have, and I hold you accountable. You've got to marry me. I've +made up my mind. And when Sally Spitfire makes up her mind, she means +it. To refuse my hand is to insult me, and no man shall insult me with +safety. No, sir! not so long as I carry a Colt's revolver. I took a +fancy to you, young man, the minute my eyes rested on you. I froze to +you to oncst. I calculate to marry you right off. Will you inquire +around for a clergyman? or shall I do it myself?"</p> + +<p>"I will go," I said, quickly.</p> + +<p>"P'raps I'd better go 'long," she said, suspiciously, and as I arose +she followed suit, and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> walked down the car together, she twice +asking in a loud voice if there was a minister on board.</p> + +<p>"One in the next car," at last spoke a fellow, looking at us with a +broad grin.</p> + +<p>We stepped out on the platform to enter the next car—now was my +time—now or never! I looked at the ground—it was tolerably level and +covered with grass; the train was running at moderate speed; there was +but one way to escape my tormentor. Making my calculations as +accurately as possible, I suddenly leaped from the steps of the car; +my head and feet seemed driven into one another; I rolled over and +over—thought I was dead, was surprised to find I was not dead, picked +myself up, shook myself.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha!" I laughed hysterically; "I'm out of that scrape, +anyway!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, are you?" said a voice behind me.</p> + +<p>I whirled about. As true as I'm writing this, there stood that girl! +Her hat was knocked off, her nose was bleeding, but she was smiling +right in my face.</p> + +<p>I cast a look of anguish at the retreating train. No one had noticed +our mad leap; and the cars were gliding smoothly away—away—leaving +me alone on the wide plains with that determined female!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>ONE OF THE FAIR SEX COMES TO HIS RESCUE.</h3> + + +<p>Before I comprehended that the indomitable female stood beside me, the +train was puffing pitilessly away.</p> + +<p>"Oh, stop! stop! stop! stop!" I called and yelled in an agony of +apprehension; but I might as well have appealed to the wind that went +whistling by.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the locomotive will hear you, and down brakes of its own +accord," said Miss Spitfire, scornfully. "I told ma I was gwine to get +a husband 'fore I got to Californy, an' I <i>have</i> got one. You jest set +down on that bowlder, an' don't you try to make a move till the train +from 'Frisco comes along. Then you git aboard along with me, an' if +there ain't no minister to be found in them cars, I'll haul you off at +Columbus, where there's two to my certain knowledge."</p> + +<p>She had her revolver in her hand, directed <i>point blank</i> at my +quivering, quaking heart. Though I am bashful, I am no coward, and I +thought for full two minutes that I'd let her fire away, if such was +her intention.</p> + +<p>"Better be dead than live in a land so full of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> women that I can never +hope for any comfort!" I thought, bitterly; and so confronted the +enemy in the growing calmness of despair.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you a-going fur to set down on that bowlder?"</p> + +<p>"No, madam, I am <i>not</i>! I would rather be shot than married, at any +time. Why! I was going to fight the Indians with Buffalo Bill, on +purpose to get rid of the girls."</p> + +<p>Sally looked at me curiously; her outstretched arm settled a little +until the revolver pointed at my knee instead of my heart.</p> + +<p>"P'raps you've been disappointed in love?" she queried.</p> + +<p>"Not that entirely," I answered, honestly.</p> + +<p>"P'raps you've run away from a breach of promise?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! no, indeed!"</p> + +<p>"What on airth do you want to get rid o' the girls fur, then?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Spitfire," said I, scraping the gravel with the toe of my boot, +"I'm afraid of them. I'm bashful."</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Bashful!</span>" Miss Spitfire cried, and then she began to laugh.</p> + +<p>She laughed and laughed until I believed and hoped she would laugh +herself into pieces. The idea struck this creature in so ludicrous a +light that she nearly went into convulsions. <i>She</i>, alas, had never +been troubled by such a weakness. I watched my opportunity, when she +was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> doubled up with mirth, to snatch the revolver from her hand.</p> + +<p>The tables were now turned, but not for long. She sprang at me like a +wildcat; I defended myself as well as I could without really hurting +her, maintaining my hold on the revolver, but not attempting to use it +on my scratching, clawing antagonist. The station-master came out of +Lone Tree station, a mile away, and walked up the track to see what +was going on. Of course he had no notion of what it was, but it amused +him to see the fight, and he kept cheering and urging on Miss Sally, +probably with the idea that she was my wife and we were indulging in a +domestic squabble. At the same time it chanced that a boat load of six +or eight of the roughest fellows it had ever been my lot to meet, and +all with their belts stuck full of knives and revolvers, came rowing +across the river, not far away, and landed just in time to "see the +fun." When Miss Spitfire saw these ruffians she ceased clawing and +biting me, and appealed to them.</p> + +<p>I was dumbfounded by the falsehood ready on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Will you, <i>gentlemen</i>," said she, "stand by and see a young lady +deserted by this sneak?"</p> + +<p>"What's up?" asked a brawny fellow, seven feet high, glaring at me as +if he thought I had committed seventeen murders.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," responded Spitfire, panting for breath. "We was +engaged to be married, we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> was, all fair an' square. He pretended to +be goin' through the train to look fur a minister fur to tie the knot, +an' just sneaked off the train, when it stopped yere; but I see him in +time, an' I jumped off, too, an' I nabbed him."</p> + +<p>"Shall we hang the little skunk up to yonder tree? or shall we set him +up fur a target an' practice firing at a mark fur about five minutes? +Will do whatever you say, young lady. We're a rough set; but we don't +lay out to see no wimmen treated scurvy."</p> + +<p>I'm no coward, as I said, but I dare say my face was not very smiling +as I met the flashing eyes and saw the scowling brows of those giant +ruffians, whose hands were already drawing the bowie-knives and +pistols from their belts. But I steadied my voice and spoke up:</p> + +<p>"Boys," said I, very friendly, "what's the use of a pair hitching +together who do not like each other, and who will always be uneasy in +harness? If I married her, she would be sorry. Come, let us go up to +the station and have something to drink. Choose your own refreshments, +and don't be backward."</p> + +<p>There was a good deal of growling and muttering; but the temptation +was irresistible. The result was that in half an hour not a drop of +liquor remained to the poor fellow who kept the station—that I paid +up the score "like a man," as my drunken companions assured me, who +now clapped me familiarly on the shoulder,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> and called me "Little +Grit," as a pet name—that Miss Spitfire, minus her revolver, sat +biting her nails about two rods away—and that she waited anxiously +for the expected arrival of the 'Frisco train, bound eastward.</p> + +<p>"Come, now, Little Grit," said the leader of the band, when the whisky +had all disappeared, "you was gwine with Buffalo Bill; better come +along with me—I'm a better fellow, an' hev killed more Injuns than +ever Bill did. We're arter them pesky redskins now. A lot of 'em +crossed the stream a couple o' nights ago, and stole our best horses. +We're bound to hev 'em back. Some o' them red thieves will miss their +skalps afore to-morrow night. A feller as kin fight a woman is jist +the chap for us. You come along; we'll show you how to tree your first +Injun."</p> + +<p>The long and the short of it was I had to go. I did not want to. I +thought of my mother, of Belle, of Blue-Eyes, and I hung back. But I +was taken along. These giants, with their bristling belts, did not +understand a person who said "no" to them. And as the secondary effect +of the liquor was to make them quarrelsome, I had to pretend that I +liked the expedition.</p> + +<p>Not to weary the reader, we tracked the marauders, and came across +them at earliest dawn the following morning, cooking their dog-stew +under the shelter of a high bluff, with the stolen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> horses picketed +near, in a cluster of young cottonwoods.</p> + +<p>I have no talent for depicting skirmishes with the redskins; I leave +all that to Buffalo Bill. I will here simply explain that the Indians +were surprised, but savage; that the whites were resolved to get back +their horses, and that they did get them, and rode off victorious, +leaving six dead and nine wounded red warriors on the battle-ground, +with only one mishap to their own numbers.</p> + +<p>The mishap was a trifling one to the border ruffians. It was not so +trifling to me.</p> + +<p>It consisted of their leaving me a prisoner in the hands of the +Indians.</p> + +<p>I was bound to a tree, while the wretches jabbered around me, as to +what they should do for me. Then, while I was reflecting whether I +would not prefer marriage with Miss Spitfire to this horrible +predicament, they drove a stake into the ground, untied me, led me to +the stake, re-tied me to that, and piled branches of dry cottonwood +about me up to my neck.</p> + +<p>Then one of them ran, howling, to bring a brand from the fire under +the upset breakfast pot.</p> + +<p>I raised my eyes to the bright sun, which had risen over the plain, +and was smiling at my despair. The hideous wretch came running with +the fire-brand. The braves leaped, danced, and whooped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>I closed my eyes. Then a sharp, shrill yell pierced the air, and in +another moment something touched my neck. It was not the scorching +flames I dreaded. I opened my eyes. A hideous face, copper-colored, +distorted by a loving grin, was close to mine; a pair of arms were +about my neck—a pair of woman's arms! They were those of a ferocious +and ugly squaw, old enough to be my mother. The warrior with the +fire-brand was replacing it, with a disappointed expression, under the +stewed dog. <i>I was saved!</i></p> + +<p>All in a flash I comprehended the truth. Here was I, John Flutter, +enacting the historical part of the John Smith, of Virginia, who was +rescued by the lovely Pocahontas.</p> + +<p>This hideous creature smirking in my face was my Pocahontas. It was +not leap-year, but she had chosen me for her brave. The charms of +civilized life could no longer trouble me. She would lovingly paint my +face, hang the wampum about my waist, and lead me to her wigwam in the +wilderness, where she would faithfully grind my corn and fricassee my +puppy. It was for <i>this</i> I had escaped Sally Spitfire—for <i>this</i> that +my unhappy bashfulness had driven me far from home and friends.</p> + +<p>She unfastened the rope from the stake, and led me proudly away. My +very soul blushed with shame. Oh, fatal, fatal blunder!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT.</h3> + + +<p>That was a long day for me. I could not eat the dog-bone which my +Pocahontas handed me, having drawn it from the kettle with her own +sweet fingers. We traveled all day; having lost their stolen horses as +well as their own ponies, the savages had to foot it back to their +tribe. I could see that they got as far away from the railroad and +from traces of white men as possible.</p> + +<p>It began to grow dark, and we were still plodding along. I was +foot-sore, discouraged, and woe-begone. All the former trials of my +life, which had seemed at the time so hard to bear, now appeared like +the merest trifles.</p> + +<p>Ah, if I were only home again! How gladly would I sit down in +butter-tubs, and spill hot tea into my lap! How joyfully would I walk +up the church aisles, with my ears burning, and sit down on my new +beaver in father's pew of a Sunday. How sweet would be the suppressed +giggle of the saucy girls behind me! How easily, how almost +audaciously, would I ask Miss Miller if I might see her home! What an +active part I would take in debating societies! Vain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> dream! My +hideous Pocahontas marched stolidly on, dragging me like a frightened +calf, at the rope's end. My throat was dry as ashes. I guess the +redskins suffered for want of water, too. We came to a little brackish +stream after sunset, and here they camped. They had taken from me Miss +Spitfire's revolver, or I should have shot myself.</p> + +<p>The squaws made some suppawn in a big kettle, and my squaw brought me +some in a dirty wooden bowl. I was too homesick to eat, and this +troubled her. She tried to coax me, with atrocious grins and nods, to +eat the smoking suppawn. I couldn't, and she looked unhappy.</p> + +<p>Then something happened—something hit the bowl and sent the hot mush +flying into my beauty's face, and spattering over me. At the same +instant about twenty Indians were hit, also, and went tumbling over, +with their mouths full of supper. There were yells, and jumps, and a +general row. I jerked away from Pocahontas and ran as fast as my tired +legs would carry me. I went toward the attacking party. It might be of +Indians too, but I didn't care. I was afraid of Pocahontas—more +afraid of her than of any braves in the world. But these invaders +proved to be white men; a large party of miners going toward Pike's +Peak, by wagon instead of by the new railroad.</p> + +<p>I threw myself on their protection. They had routed out the savages, +and now took possession<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> of their camping-ground. I passed a peaceful +night; except that my dreams were disturbed by visions of Pocahontas. +In the morning my new friends proposed that I should join their party, +and try my luck in the mining regions; they were positive that each +would find more gold than he knew what to do with.</p> + +<p>"Then you can go home and marry some pretty girl, my boy," said one +friendly fellow, slapping me on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Never," I murmured. "I have no object in life, save one."</p> + +<p>"And what is that, my young friend?"</p> + +<p>"To go where there never has been nor never will be a woman."</p> + +<p>"Good! the mines will be just the place then. None of the fair sex +there, my boy. You can enjoy the privilege of doing up your own linen +to the fullest extent. You won't have anybody to iron your collars +there, you bet."</p> + +<p>"Lead on—I follow!" I cried, almost like an actor on the stage.</p> + +<p>I felt exhilarated—a wild, joyous sense of freedom. My two recent +narrow escapes added to the pleasure with which I viewed my present +prospects. This was better than sailing for some Juan Fernandez, or +being clerk of the weather on Mount Washington. Ho! for Pike's Peak. +In those high solitudes, while heaping up the yellow gold which should +purchase all the luxuries of life for the woman whom <i>sometime</i> I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +should choose, I could, at the same time, be gradually overcoming my +one weakness. When I did see fit to return to my native village, no +man should be so calm, so cool, so self-possessed as John Flutter, +Jr., mine-owner, late of the Rocky Mountains. I felt very bold over +the prospect. I was not a bit bashful just then. I joined the +adventurers, paying them in money for my seat in their wagons, and my +place at their camp-table. In due time we reached the scene of action. +I would not go into any of the canvas villages which had sprung up +like mushrooms. There might be a woman in some one of these places. I +went directly into the hills, where I bought out a sick man's claim, +and went to work. I blistered my white hands, but I didn't mind that +much—there were no blue eyes to notice the disfigurement.</p> + +<p>I had been at work six days. I was a good young man, and I would not +dig on Sunday, as some of the fellows did. I sat in the door of my +little hut, and read an old newspaper, and thought of those far-away +days when I used to be afraid of the girls. How glad I felt that I was +outgrowing that folly. A shadow fell across my paper, and I glanced +up. Thunder out of a clear sky could not so have astonished me. There +stood a young lady, smiling at me! None of those rough Western pioneer +girls, either, but a pale, delicate, beautiful young lady, about +eighteen, with cheeks like wild roses, so faintly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> softly flushed +with the fatigue of climbing, and great starry hazel eyes, and dressed +in a fashionable traveling suit, made up in the latest style.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, sir, for startling you so," she said, pleasantly. "Can you +give me a drink of water? I have been climbing until I am thirsty. +Papa is not far behind, around the rock there. I out-climbed him, you +see—as I told him I could!" and she laughed like an angel.</p> + +<p>Yes! it was splendid to find how I had improved! I jumped to my feet +and made a low bow. I wasn't red in the face—I wasn't confused—I +didn't stammer; I felt as cool as I do this moment, as I answered her +courteously:</p> + +<p>"Cer-cer-certainly, madam—miss, I mean—you shall have a spring fresh +from me—a drink, I mean—we've a nice, cold spring in the rocks just +behind the cabin; I'll get you one in a second."</p> + +<p>"No such <i>great</i> hurry, sir"—another smile.</p> + +<p>I dashed inside and brought a tin cup—my only goblet—hurried to the +spring, and brought her the sparkling draught, saying, as I handed it +to her:</p> + +<p>"You must excuse the din tipper, miss."</p> + +<p>She took it politely! and began to quaff, but from some reason she +choked and choked, and finally shook so, that she spilled the water +all over the front breadth of her gray-check silk. She was laughing at +my "din tipper," just as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> the calmest people did not sometimes get +the first letters of their words mixed up.</p> + +<p>While she giggled and pretended to cough the old gentleman came in +sight, puffing and blowing like a porpoise, and looking very warm. He +told me he was "doing the mountains" for his daughter's health, and +that they were going on to California to spend the winter; ending by +stating that he was thirsty too, and so fatigued with his climb that +he would be obliged to me if I would add a stick in his, if I had it. +Now I kept a little whisky for medicine, and I was only too anxious to +oblige the girl's father, so I darted into the cabin again and brought +out one of the two bottles which I owned—two bottles, just alike, one +containing whisky, the other kerosene. In my confusion I—well, I was +very hospitable, and I added as much kerosene as there was water; and +when he had taken three large swallows, he began to spit and splutter; +then to groan; then to double up on the hard rock in awful +convulsions. I smelled the kerosene, and I felt that I had murdered +him. It had come to this at last! My bashfulness was to do worse than +urge me to suicide—it was to be the means of my causing the death of +an estimable old gentleman—her father! She began to cry and wring her +hands. As yet she did not suspect me! She supposed her father had +fallen in a fit of apoplexy.</p> + +<p>"If he dies, I will allow her always to think so," I resolved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>My eyes stuck out of my head with terror at what I had done. I was +rooted to the ground. But only for a moment. Remorse, for once, made +me self-possessed. I remembered that I had salt in the cabin. I got +some, mixed it with water, and poured it down his throat. It had the +desired effect, soon relieving him of the poisonous dose he had +swallowed.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you have saved my papa's life!" cried the young lady, pressing my +trembling hand.</p> + +<p>"Saved it!" growled old Cresus, as he sat up and glared about. "Let +him alone, Imogen! He tried to poison and murder me, so as to rob me +after I was dead, and keep you prisoner, my pet. The scoundrel!"</p> + +<p>"It was all a mistake—a wretched mistake!" I murmured.</p> + +<p>He wouldn't believe me; but he was too ill to get up, as he wanted. I +tried to make him more comfortable by assisting him to a seat on my +keg of blasting powder.</p> + +<p>As he began to revive a little, he drew a cigar from his pocket, and +asked me if I had a match. I had none; but there was a small fire +under my frying-pan, and I brought him a coal on a chip. Miss Imogen, +when she saw the coal on the chip, began to laugh again. That +embarrassed me. My nerves were already unstrung, and my trembling +fingers unfortunately spilled the burning ember just as the old +gentleman was about to stoop over it with his cigar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> It fell between +his knees, onto the head of the keg, rolled over, and dropped plumb +through the bung-hole onto the giant-powder inside.</p> + +<p>This cured me of my bashfulness for some time, as it was over a week +before I came to my senses.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW.</h3> + + +<p>I came to my senses in one of the bedrooms of the Shantytown Hotel. +There was only a partition between that and the other bedrooms of +brown cotton cloth, and as I slowly became conscious of things about +me, I heard two voices beyond the next curtain talking of my affairs.</p> + +<p>"I reckon he won't know where the time's gone to when he comes to +himself ag'in. Lucky for him he didn't go up, like the old gentleman, +in such small pieces as to never come down. I don't see, fur the life +of me, what purvented. He was standin' right over the kag on which the +old chap sot. Marakalous escape, that of the young lady. Beats +everything."</p> + +<p>"You bet, pardner, 'twouldn't happen so once in a thousand times. You +see, she was jist blowed over the ledge an' rolled down twenty or +thirty feet, an' brought up on a soft spot—wa'n't hurt a particle. +But how she does take on about her pop! S'pose you knew her brother's +come on fur her?"</p> + +<p>"No."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes; got here by the noon stage. They're reckoning to leave +Shantytown immegitly. Less go down and see 'em off!"</p> + +<p>They shuffled away.</p> + +<p>I don't know whether my head ached, but I know my heart did. I was a +murderer. Or, if not quite so bad as a deliberate murderer, I was, at +the very least, guilty of manslaughter. And why? Because I had not +been able to overcome my wicked weakness. I felt sick of life, of +everything—especially of the mines.</p> + +<p>"I can never return to the scene of the accident," I thought.</p> + +<p>I groaned and tossed, but it was the torture of my conscience, and not +of my aching limbs. The doctor and others came in.</p> + +<p>"How long shall I have to lie here?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Not many days; no bones are broken. Your head is injured and you are +badly bruised, that's all. You must keep quiet—you must not excite +yourself."</p> + +<p>Excite myself! As if I could, for one moment, forget the respectable +old capitalist whom I had first poisoned and then blown into ten +thousand pieces through my folly. I had brain fever. It set in that +night. For two weeks I raved deliriously; for two weeks I was doing +the things I ought not to have done—in imagination. I took a young +lady skating, and slipped down with her on the ice, and broke her +Grecian nose. I went to a grand reception, and tore the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> point lace +flounce off of Mrs. Grant's train, put my handkerchief in my saucer, +and my coffee-cup in my pocket. I was left to entertain a handsome +young lady, and all I could say was to cough and "Hem! hem!" until at +last she asked me if I had any particular article I would like hemmed.</p> + +<p>I killed a baby by sitting down on it in a fit of embarrassment, when +asked by a neighbor to take a seat. I waltzed and waltzed and waltzed +with Blue-Eyes, and every time I turned I stepped on her toes with my +heavy boots, until they must have been jelly in her little satin +slippers, and finally we fell down-stairs, and I went out of that +fevered dream only to find myself again giving blazing kerosene to an +estimable old gentleman, who swallowed it unsuspiciously, and then sat +down on a powder keg, and we all blew up—up—up—and came +down—down—bump! I never want to have brain fever again—at least, +not until I have conquered myself.</p> + +<p>When I was once more rational, I resolved that a miner's life was too +rough for me; and, as soon as I could be bolstered up in a corner of +the coach, I set out to reach the railroad, where I was to take a +palace-car for home. I gained strength rapidly during the change and +excitement of the journey; so that, the day before we were to reach +Chicago, I no longer remained prone in my berth, but, "clothed and in +my right mind," took my seat with the other pas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>sengers, looked about +and tried to forget the past and to enjoy myself. At first, I had a +seat to myself; but, at one of the stations, about two in the +afternoon, a lady, dressed in deep black, and wearing a heavy crepe +veil, which concealed her face, entered our car, and slipped quietly +in to the vacant half of my seat. She sat quite motionless, with her +veil down. Every few moments a long, tremulous, heart-broken sigh +stirred this sable curtain which shut in my companion's face. I felt a +deep sympathy for her, whoever she might be, old or young, pretty or +ugly. I inferred that she was a widow; I could hear that she was in +affliction; but I was far too diffident to invent any little courteous +way of expressing my sympathy. In about half an hour, she put her veil +to one side, and asked me, in a low, sweet, pathetic voice, if I had +any objection to drawing down the blind, as her veil smothered her, +and she had wept so much that her eyes could not bear the strong light +of the afternoon sun. I drew down the blind—with such haste as to +pinch my fingers cruelly between the sash and the sill.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am <i>so</i> sorry!" said she.</p> + +<p>"It's of no consequence," I stammered, making a Toots of myself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but <i>it is</i>! and in my service too! Let me be your surgeon, sir," +and she took from her traveling-bag a small bottle of cologne, with +which she drenched a delicate film of black-bor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>dered handkerchief, +and then wound the same around my aching fingers. "You are pale," she +continued, slightly pressing my hand before releasing it—"ah, how +sorry I am!"</p> + +<p>"I am pale because I have been ill recently," I responded, conscious +that all my becoming pallor was changing to turkey-red.</p> + +<p>"Ill?—oh, how sad! What a world of trouble we live in! Ill?—and so +young—so hand——. Excuse me, I meant not to flatter you, but I have +seen so much sorrow myself. I am only twenty-two, and I've been a +wid—wid—wid—ow over a year."</p> + +<p>She wiped away a tear with handkerchief No. 2, and smiled sadly in my +face.</p> + +<p>"Sorrow has aged her," I thought, for, although the blind was down, +she looked to me nearer thirty than twenty-two.</p> + +<p>Still, she was pretty, with dark eyes that looked into yours in a +wonderfully confiding way—melting, liquid, deep eyes, that even a man +who is perfectly self-possessed can not see to the bottom of soon +enough for his own good. As for me, those eyes confused while they +pleased me. The widow never noticed my embarrassment; but, the ice +once broken, talked on and on. She gave me, in soft, sweet, broken +accents, her history—how she had been her mother's only pet, and had +married a rich Chicago broker, who had died in less than two years, +leaving her alone—all alone—with plenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> of money, plenty of +jewelry, a fine house, but alas, "no one to love her, none to caress," +as the song says, and the world a desert.</p> + +<p>"But I can still love <i>a friend</i>," she added, with a melancholy smile. +"One as disinterested, as ignorant of the world as you, would please +me best. You must stop in Chicago," she said, giving me her card +before we parted. "Every traveler should spend a few days in our +wonderful city. Call on me, and I will have up my carriage and take +you out to see the sights."</p> + +<p>Need I say that I stopped in Chicago? or add that I went to call on +the fair widow? She took me out driving according to promise. I found +that she was just the style of woman that suited me best. I was +bashful; she was not. I was silent; she could keep up the conversation +with very little aid from me. With such a woman as that I could get +along in life. She would always be willing to take the lead. All I +would have to do would be to give her the reins, and she would keep +the team going. She would be willing to walk the first into church—to +interview the butcher and baker—to stand between me and the world. A +wife like that would be some comfort to a bashful man. Besides, she +was rich! Had she not said it? I have seldom had a happier hour than +that of our swift, exhilarating drive. The colored driver, gorgeous in +his handsome livery, kept his eyes and ears to himself. I lolled back +in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> the luxurious carriage beside my charmer. I forgot the unhappy +accident of the blasting-powder—all the mortifications and +disappointments of my life. I reveled in bliss. For once, I had +nothing to do but be courted. How often had I envied the girls their +privilege of keeping quiet and being made love to. How often had I +sighed to be one of the sex who is popped to and does not have to pop. +And now, this lovely, brilliant creature who sat beside me, having +been once married, and seeing my natural timidity, "knew how it was +herself," and took on her own fair hands all the responsibility.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Flutter," said she, "I know just how you feel—you want to ask me +to marry you, but you are too bashful. Have I guessed right?"</p> + +<p>I pressed her hand in speechless assent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear boy, I knew it. Well, this is leap-year, and I will not +see you sacrificed to your own timidity. I am yours, whenever you +wish—to-morrow if you say so—yours forever. You shall have no +trouble about it, I will speak to the Rev. Mr. Coalyard myself—I know +him. When shall it be?—speak, dearest!"</p> + +<p>I gasped out "to-morrow," and buried my blushing face on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>For a moment her soft arms were twined around me—a moment only, for +we were on the open lake drive. Not more than ten seconds did the +pretty widow embrace me, but that was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> time enough, as I learned to my +sorrow, for her to extract my pocket-book, containing the five hundred +dollars I still had remaining from the sale of my mining-stock, and +not one dollar of which did I ever see again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE.</h3> + + +<p>I had to pawn my watch to get away from Chicago, for the police failed +to find my pretty widow. The thought of getting again under my mother's +wing was as welcome as my desire to get away from it had been eager. At +night my dreams were haunted by all sorts of horrible fire-works, where +old gentlemen sat down on powder-kegs, etc. Oh, for home! I knew there +were no widows in my native village, except Widow Green, and I was not +afraid of her. Well, I took the cars once more, and I had been riding +two days and a night, and was not over forty miles from my destination, +when the little incident occurred which proved to lead me into one of +the worst blunders of all. It's <i>awful</i> to be a bashful young man! +Everybody takes advantage of you. You are the victim of practical +jokes—folks laugh if you do nothing on earth but enter a room. If you +happen to hit your foot against a stool, or trip over a rug, or call a +lady "sir," the girls giggle and the boys nudge each other, as if it +were extremely amusing. But to blow up a confiding Wall street<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +speculator, and to be swindled out of all your money by a pretty widow, +is enough to make a sensitive man a raving lunatic. I had all this to +think of as I was whirled along toward home. So absorbed was I in +melancholy reflection, that I did not notice what was going on until a +sudden shrill squawk close in my ear caused me to turn, when I found +that a very common-looking young woman, with a by no means interesting +infant of six months, had taken the vacant half of my seat. I was +annoyed. There were plenty of unoccupied seats in the car, and I saw no +reason why she should intrude upon my comfort. The infant shrieked +wildly when I looked at it; but its mother stopped its mouth with one of +those what-do-you-call-'ems that are stuck on the end of a flat bottle +containing sweetened milk, and, after sputtering and gurgling in a vain +attempt to keep on squalling, it subsided and went vigorously to work. +It seemed after a time to become more accustomed to my harmless visage, +and stared at me stolidly, with round, unwinking eyes, after it had +exhausted the contents of the bottle.</p> + +<p>In about half an hour the train stopped at a certain station; the +conductor yelled out "ten minutes for refreshments," the eating-house +man rang a big bell, and the passengers, many of them, hurried out. +Then the freckle-faced woman leaned toward me.</p> + +<p>"Are you goin' out?" said she.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," I replied, politely; "I am not far from home, and prefer waiting +for my lunch until I get there."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_141.jpg" width="600" height="583" alt=""WOULD YOU HOLD MY BABY WHILE I RUN IN AN' GET A CUP O' +TEA?"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"WOULD YOU HOLD MY BABY WHILE I RUN IN AN' GET A CUP O' +TEA?"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Then," said she, very earnestly, "would you hold my baby while I run +in an' get a cup o' tea? Indeed, sir, I'm half famished, riding over +twenty-four hours, and only a biscuit or two in my bag, and I must get +some milk for baby's bottle or she'll starve."</p> + +<p>It was impossible, under such circumstances, for one to refuse, though +I would have preferred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> to head a regiment going into battle, for +there were three young ladies, about six seats behind me, who were +eating their lunch in the car, and I knew they would laugh at me; +besides, the woman gave me no chance to decline, for she thrust the +wide-eyed terror into my awkward arms, and rushed quickly out to +obtain her cup of tea.</p> + +<p>Did you ever see a bashful young man hold a strange baby? I expect I +furnished—I and the baby—a comic opera, music and all, for the +entertainment of the three girls, as they nibbled their cold chicken +and pound-cake. For the mother had not been gone over fifteen seconds +when that confounded young one began to cry. I sat her down on my knee +and trotted her. She screamed with indignation, and grew so purple in +the face I thought she was strangling, and I patted her on the back. +This liberty she resented by going into a sort of spasm, legs and arms +flying in every direction, worse than a wind-mill in a gale.</p> + +<p>"This will never do," I thought; at the same time I was positive I +heard a suppressed giggle in my rear.</p> + +<p>A happy thought occurred to me—infants were always tickled with +watches! But, alas I had pawned mine. However, I had a gold locket in +my pocket, with my picture in it, which I had bought in Chicago, to +present to the widow, and didn't present: this I drew forth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> and +dangled before the eyes of the little infernal threshing-machine.</p> + +<p>The legs and arms quieted down; the fat hands grabbed the glittering +trinket. "Goo—goo—goo—goo," said the baby, and thrust the locket in +her mouth. I think she must have been going through the interesting +process of teething, for she made so many dents in the handsome face, +that it was rendered useless as a future gift to some fortunate girl, +while the way she slobbered over it was disgusting. I scarcely regretted +the ruin of the locket, I was so delighted to have her keep quiet; but, +alas! the little wretch soon dropped it and began howling like ten +thousand midnight cats. I trotted her again—I tossed her—I laid her +over my knees on her stomach—I said "Ssh—ssh—ssssh—sssssh!" all in +vain. Instead of ten minutes for refreshments it seemed to me that they +gave ten hours.</p> + +<p>In desperation I raised her and hung her over my shoulder, rising at +the same time and walking up and down the aisle. The howling ceased: +but now the young ladies, after choking with suppressed laughter, +finally broke into a scream of delight. Something must be up! I took +the baby down and looked over my shoulder—the little rip had opened +her mouth and sent a stream of white, curdy milk down the back of my +new overcoat. For one instant the fate of that child hung in the +balance. I walked to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> door, and made a movement to throw her to +the dogs; but humanity gained the day, and I refrained.</p> + +<p>I felt that my face was redder than the baby's; every passenger +remaining in the car was smiling. I went calmly back, and laid her +down on the seat, while I took off my coat and made an attempt to +remove the odious matters with my handkerchief, which ended by my +throwing the coat over the back of the seat in disgust, resolving that +mother would have to finish the job with her "Renovator." My +handkerchief I threw out of the window.</p> + +<p>Thank goodness! the engine bell was ringing at last and the people +crowding back into the train.</p> + +<p>I drew a long breath of relief, snatched the shrieking infant up +again, for fear the mother would blame me for neglecting her ugly +brat—and waited.</p> + +<p>"All aboard!" shouted the conductor; the bell ceased to ring, the +wheels began to revolve, the train was in motion.</p> + +<p>"Great Jupiter Ammen!" I thought, while a cold sweat started out all +over me, "she will be left!"</p> + +<p>The cars moved faster and more mercilessly fast; the conductor +appeared at the door; I rose and rushed toward him, the baby in my +arms, crying:</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, conductor, stop the cars!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's up?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"What's up? Stop the cars, I say! Back down to the station again! +<i>This baby's mother's left!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Then she left on purpose," he answered coolly; "she never went into +the eating-house at all. I saw her making tall tracks for the train +that goes the other way. I thought it was all right. I didn't notice +she hadn't her baby with her. I'll telegraph at the next station; +that's all that can be done now."</p> + +<p>This capped the climax of all my previous blunders! Why had I blindly +consented to care for that woman's progeny? Why? why? Here was I, John +Flutter, a young, innocent, unmarried man, approaching the home of my +childhood with an infant in my arms! The horror of my situation turned +me red and pale by turns as if I had apoplexy or heart disease.</p> + +<p>There was always a crowd of young people down at the depot of our +village; what would they think to see me emerge from the cars carrying +that baby? Even the child seemed astonished, ceasing to cry, and +staring around upon the passengers as if in wonder and amazement at +our predicament. Yet not one of those heartless travelers seemed to +pity me; every mouth was stretched in a broad grin; not a woman came +forward and offered to relieve me of my burden; and thus, in the midst +of my embarrass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>ment and horror, the train rolled up to the well-known +station, and I saw my father and mother, and half the boys and girls +of the village, crowding the platform and waiting to welcome my +arrival.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL.</h3> + + +<p>Once more I was settled quietly down to my old life, clerking in my +father's store. You would naturally suppose that my travels would have +given me some confidence, and that I had worn out, as it were, the +bashfulness of youth; but in my case this was an inborn quality which +I could no more get rid of, than I could of my liver or my spleen.</p> + +<p>I had never confessed to any one the episode of the giant-powder or +the Chicago widow; but the story of the baby had crept out, through +the conductor, who told it to the station-master. If you want to know +how <i>that</i> ended, I'll just tell you that, maddened by the grins and +giggles of the passengers, I started for the car door with that baby, +but, in passing those three giggling young ladies, I suddenly slung +the infant into their collective laps, and darted out upon the station +platform. That's the way I got out of that scrape.</p> + +<p>As I was saying, after all those dreadful experiences, I was glad to +settle down in the store, where I honestly strove to overcome my +weakness; but it was still so troublesome that father<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> always +interfered when the girls came in to purchase dry-goods. He said I +almost destroyed the profits of the business, giving extra measure on +ribbons and silks, and getting confused over the calicoes. But I'm +certain the shoe was on the other foot; there wasn't a girl in town +would go anywhere else to shop when they could enjoy the fun of +teasing me; so that if I made a few blunders, I also brought custom.</p> + +<p>Cold weather came again, and I was one year older. There was a grand +ball on the twenty-second of February, to which I invited Hetty +Slocum, who accepted my escort. We expected to have lots of fun. The +ball-room was in the third story of the Spread-Eagle Hotel. There was +to be a splendid supper at midnight in the big dining-room; hot +oysters "in every style," roast turkey, chicken-pie, coffee, and all +the sweet fixings.</p> + +<p>It turned out to be a clear night; I took Hetty to the hotel in +father's fancy sleigh, in good style, and having got her safely to the +door of the ladies' parlor without a blunder to mar my peace of mind, +except that I stepped on her slippered foot in getting into the +sleigh, and crushed it so, that Hetty could hardly dance for the pain, +I began to feel an unusual degree of confidence in myself, which I +fortified by a stern resolution, on no account to get to blushing and +stammering, but to walk coolly up to the handsomest girls and ask them +out on the floor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> with all the self-possessed gallantry of a man of +the world.</p> + +<p>Alas! "the best-laid plans of mice an' men must aft gang," like a +balky horse—just opposite to what you want them to. I spoke to my +acquaintances in the bar-room easily enough, but when one after one +the fellows went up to the door of the ladies' dressing-room to escort +their fair companions to the ball-room, I felt my courage oozing away, +until, under the pretext of keeping warm by the fire, I remained in +the bar-room until every one else had deserted it. Then I slowly made +my way up, intending to enter the gentlemen's dressing-room, to tie my +white cravat, and put on my white kids. I found the room +deserted—every one had entered the ball-room but myself; I could hear +the gay music of the violins, and the tapping of the feet on the floor +overhead. Surely it was time that I had called for <i>my</i> lady, and +taken her up.</p> + +<p>I knew that Hetty would be mad, because I had made her lose the first +dance; yet, I fooled and fooled over the tying of my cravat, dreading +the ordeal of entering the ball-room with a lady on my arm. At last it +was tied. I turned to put on my gloves; then, for the first time, I +was made aware that I had mistaken the room. I was in the ladies', not +the gentlemen's dressing-room. There were the heaps of folded cloaks, +and shawls, and the hoods. That very instant, before I could beat a +retreat, I heard voices at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> the door—Hetty's among them. I glared +around for some means of escape. There were none. What excuse could I +make for my singular intrusion? Would it be believed if I swore that I +had been unaware of the character of my surroundings? Would I be +suspected of being a kleptomaniac? In the intensity of my +mortification I madly followed the first impulse which moved me. This +was to dive under the bed.</p> + +<p>I had no more than taken refuge in this curious hiding-place, than I +regretted the foolish act; to be discovered there would be infamy and +disgrace too deep for words. I would have crawled out at the last +second, but it was too late; I heard the girls in the room, and was +forced to try and keep still as a mouse, though my heart thumped so I +was certain they must hear it.</p> + +<p>"Where do you suppose he has gone?" asked one.</p> + +<p>"Goodness knows," answered Hetty. "I have looked in the gentlemen's +room—he's not there. Catch me going to a ball with John Flutter +again."</p> + +<p>"It's a real insult, his not coming for you," added another; "but, la! +you must excuse it. I know what's the trouble. I'll bet you two cents +he's afraid to come up-stairs. He! he! he!"</p> + +<p>Then all of them tittered "he! he! he" and "ha! ha! ha!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such a bashful young fellow?"</p> + +<p>"He's a perfect goose!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it fun alive to tease him?"</p> + +<p>"Do you remember when he tumbled in the lake?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! and the time he sat down in the butter-tub?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and that day he came to our house and sat down in Old Mother +Smith's cap instead of a vacant chair, because he was blushing so it +made him blind."</p> + +<p>"Well, if he hadn't crushed my foot getting into the sleigh, I +wouldn't care," added Hetty, spitefully. "I shall limp all the +evening."</p> + +<p>"I do despise a blundering, stupid fellow that can't half take care of +a girl."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but what would you do without Mr. Flutter to laugh at?"</p> + +<p>"That's so. As long as he stays around we will have somebody to amuse +us."</p> + +<p>"He'd be good-looking if he wasn't always so red in the face."</p> + +<p>"If I was in his place I'd never go out without a veil."</p> + +<p>"To hide his blushes?"</p> + +<p>"Of course. What a pity he forgot to take his hat off in church last +Sunday, until his mother nudged him."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Did you hear it smash when he put his foot in it when he got up +to go?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> + +<p>Heavens and earth! There I was, under the bed, an enforced listener to +this flattering conversation. My breast nearly burst with anger at +them, at myself, at a cruel fate which had sent me into the world, +doomed to grow up a bashful man. If, by falling one thousand feet +plumb down, I could have sunk through that floor, I would have run the +risk.</p> + +<p>"You heard about the ba——" began Hetty.</p> + +<p>It was too much! In my torment I moved my feet without meaning to, and +they hit against the leg of the bedstead with some force.</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"A cat under the bed, I should say."</p> + +<p>"More likely a rat. Oh, girls! it may gnaw our cloaks; mine is under +there, I know."</p> + +<p>"Well, let us drive it out."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! oh! I'm afraid!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not; I'm going to see what is under there."</p> + +<p>My heart ceased to beat. Should I live to the next centennial, I shall +never forget that moment.</p> + +<p>The girl who had spoken last stooped and looked under the bed; this +motion was followed by a thrilling shriek.</p> + +<p>"There's a <i>man</i> under the bed!" she screamed.</p> + +<p>The other girls joined in; a wild chorus of shrieks arose, commingled +with cries of "Robber!" "Thief!" "Burglar!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> + +<p>Urged to desperation, I was about to roll out from my hiding-place and +make a rush to get out, hoping to pass unrecognized by covering my +face with my hands, when two or three dozen young men swooped into the +room.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"A man under the bed!"</p> + +<p>"Let me at the rascal!"</p> + +<p>"Ha! come out here, you villain!"</p> + +<p>All was over. They dragged me out, covered with dust and feathers, +and, pulling my despairing hands from over my miserable face, they +turned me to the light. Then the fury and the threats subsided. There +was a moment's profound silence—girls and fellows stared in mute +astonishment, and then—then broke from one and all a burst of +convulsive laughter. And in the midst of those shrieks and groans of +mirth at my expense, everything grew dark, and I suffered no more. +They told me afterward that I fainted dead away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR.</h3> + + +<p>My mother and the ancient lady who presided over the mysteries of my +initiation as a member of the human fraternity, say that I was born +with a caul over my face. Now, what I want to know is, why didn't they +leave that caul where they found it? What business had they to meddle +with the veil which beneficent nature gave me as a shield to my +infirmity? Had they respected her intention, they would have let it +alone—poked a hole in it for me to eat and breathe through, and left +the veil which she kindly provided to hide my blushing face from the +eyes of my fellow-creatures.</p> + +<p>Nature knew beforehand that I was going to be born to be bashful. +Therefore she gave me a caul. Had this been respected as it should +have been, I could have blossomed out into my full luxuriance as a +<i>cauli</i>flower whereas now I am an ever-blooming peony.</p> + +<p>When I rushed home after recovering from the fainting fit into which +my hiding under the bed had driven me, I threw myself down in he +sanctity of my private apartment and howled and shrieked for that caul +of my infancy. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> no caul came at my call. That dried and withered +thing was reposing somewhere amid the curiosities of an old hag's +bureau-drawer.</p> + +<p>Then I wildly wished that I were the veiled prophet of Khorassan. But +no! I was only bashful John Flutter, the butt and ridicule of a little +meddling village.</p> + +<p>I knew that this last adventure would revive the memory of all my +previous exploits. I knew the girls would all go to see each other the +next day so as to have a good giggle together. Worse than that, I knew +there would be an unprecedented run of custom at the store. There +wouldn't be a girl in the whole place who wouldn't require something +in the dry-goods line the coming day; they would come and ask for pins +and needles just for the heartless fun of seeing <i>me</i> enduring the +pangs of mental pins and needles.</p> + +<p>So I resolved that I would not get up that morning. The breakfast-bell +rang three times; mother came up to knock at my door.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so sleepy, mother!" I answered, with a big yawn; "you knew I +was up last night. Don't want any breakfast, just another little nap."</p> + +<p>So the good soul went down, leaving me to my wretched thoughts. At +noon she came up again.</p> + +<p>"John, you had better rise now. Father can't come to dinner there's so +many customers in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> store. Seems as if there was going to be a ball +to-night again; every girl in town is after ribbon, or lace, or +hair-pins, or something."</p> + +<p>"I can't get up to-day, mother. I'm awfully unwell—got a high +fever—<i>you'll</i> have to go in and lend father a helping hand"; and so +she brought me a cup of tea and a piece of toast, and then went up to +take father's place while he ate his dinner.</p> + +<p>I <i>guess</i> she suspected I'd been done for again by the way those young +women laughed when she told them I was sick in bed: for she was pretty +cross when I sneaked down to tea, and didn't seem to worry about how I +felt. Well, I kept pretty quiet the rest of the season. There were +dances and sleighing parties, but I stayed away from them, and +attended strictly to business.</p> + +<p>I don't know but that I might have begun to enjoy some peace of mind, +after the winter and part of the spring had passed without any very +awful catastrophe having occurred to me; but, some time in the latter +part of May, when the roses were just beginning to bloom, and +everything was lovely, a pretty cousin from some distant part of the +State came to spend a month at our house. I had never seen her before, +and you may imagine how I felt when she rushed at me and kissed me, +and called me her dear cousin John, just as if we had known each other +all the days of our lives. I think it was a constant sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>prise to her +to find that I was bashful. <i>She</i> wasn't a bit so. It embarrassed me a +thousand times more to see how she would slyly watch out of the corner +of her laughing eye for the signs of my diffidence.</p> + +<p>Well, of course, all the girls called on her, and boys too, as to +that, and I had to take her to return their visits, and I was in hot +water all the time. Before she went away, mother gave her a large +evening party. I behaved with my usual elegance of manner, stepping on +the ladies' trains and toes in dancing, calling them by other people's +names, and all those little courtesies for which I was so famous. I +even contrived to sit down where there was no chair, to the amusement +of the fellows. My cousin Susie was going away the next day. I was +dead in love with her, and my mind was taken up with the intention of +telling her so. I had not the faintest idea of whether she cared for +me or not. She had laughed at me and teased me mercilessly.</p> + +<p>On the contrary, she had been very encouraging to Tom Todd, a young +lawyer of the place—a little snob, with self-conceit enough in his +dapper body for six larger men. This evening he had been particularly +attentive to her. Susie was pretty and quite an heiress, so I knew Tom +Todd would try to secure her. He was just that kind of a fellow who +could propose to a girl while he was asking her out for a set of the +lanciers, or handing her a plate of salad at sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>per. Alas, I could do +nothing of the kind. With all my superior opportunities, here the last +evening was half through, and I had not yet made a motion to secure +the prize. I watched Tom as if he had been a thief and I a detective. +I was cold and hot by turns whenever he bent to whisper in Susie's +ear, as he did about a thousand times. At last, as supper-time +approached, I saw my cousin slip out into the dining-room. I thought +mother had sent her to see that all was right, before marshalling the +company out to the feast.</p> + +<p>"Now, or never," I thought, turning pale as death; and with one +resolute effort I slipped into the hall and so into the dining-room.</p> + +<p>Susie was there, doing something; but when she saw me enter she gave a +little shriek and darted into the pantry. No! I was not to be baffled +thus. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but I thought of that +snob in the parlor, and pressed on to the pantry-door.</p> + +<p>"Susie," said I, very softly, trying to open it—"Susie, I <i>must</i> +speak to you. Let me in."</p> + +<p>The more I tried to open the door the more firmly she held it.</p> + +<p>"Do go along with you, cousin John," she answered.</p> + +<p>"I can't, Susie. I want to see you a minute."</p> + +<p>"See me? Oh, what a wicked fellow! Go along, or I'll tell your +mother."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell, or not; for once I'm going to have my own way," I said, and +pressing my knee against the door, I forced it open, and there stood +my pretty cousin, angry and blushing, trying to hide from my view the +crinoline which had come off in the parlor.</p> + +<p>I retreated, closing the door and waiting for her to re-appear.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes she came out, evidently offended.</p> + +<p>"Susie," I stammered, "I did—did—didn't dream your bus—bus—bustle +had come off. I only wanted to tell you that—that I pr—pr—pri—prize +your li—li—li—"</p> + +<p>"But I never lie," she interrupted me, saucily.</p> + +<p>"That I shall be the most mis—is—is—er—able fellow that ever—"</p> + +<p>"Now don't make a goose of yourself, cousin John," she said, sweetly, +laying her little hand on my shoulder for an instant. "Stop where you +are! Tom Todd asked me to marry him, half an hour ago, and I said I +would."</p> + +<p>Tom Todd, then, had got the start of me; after all. Worse! he had +sneaked into the dining-room after Susie, and had come up behind us +and heard every word. As I turned, dizzy and confused, I saw his +smiling, insolent face. Enraged, unhappy, and embarrassed by his +grieving triumph, I hastily turned to retreat into the pantry! +Unfortunately, there were two doors close together, one leading to the +pantry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> the other to the cellar. In my blind embarrassment I mistook +them; and the next moment the whole company were startled by a loud +bump—bumping, a crash, and a woman's scream.</p> + +<p>There was a barrel of soft-soap at the foot of the cellar-stairs, and +I fell, head first, into that.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>DRIVEN FROM HIS LAST DEFENCE.</h3> + + +<p>Susie was Mrs. Todd before I recovered from the effects of my +involuntary soap-bath.</p> + +<p>"Smart trick!" cried my father when he fished me out of the barrel.</p> + +<p>I thought it <i>was</i> smart, sure enough, by the sensation in my eyes. +But I have drawn a veil over that bit of my history. I know my +eyesight was injured for all that summer. I could not tell a piece of +silk from a piece of calico, except by the feeling; so I was excused +from clerking in the store, and sat round the house with green goggles +on, and wished I were different from what I was. By fall my eyesight +got better. One day father came in the parlor where I was sitting +moping, having just seen Tom Todd drive by in a new buggy with his +bride, and said to me:</p> + +<p>"John, I am disappointed in you."</p> + +<p>"I know it," I answered him meekly.</p> + +<p>"You look well enough, and you have talent enough," he went on; "but +you are too ridiculously bashful for an ostrich."</p> + +<p>"I know it," I again replied. "Oh, father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> father, why did they take +that caul from my face?"</p> + +<p>"That—what?" inquired my puzzled sire.</p> + +<p>"That caul—wasn't I born with a caul, father?"</p> + +<p>"Now that I recall it, I believe you were," responded father, while +his stern face relaxed into a smile, "and I wish to goodness they had +left it on you, John; but they didn't, and that's an end of it. What I +was going to say was this. Convinced that you will never succeed as my +successor—that your unconquerable diffidence unfits you for the +dry-goods trade—I have been looking around for some such situation as +I have often heard you sigh for. The old light-house keeper on +Buncombe Island is dead, and I have caused you to be appointed his +successor. You will not see a human being except when supplies are +brought to you, which, in the winter, will be only once in two months. +Even then your peace will not be disturbed by any sight of one of the +other sex. You will not need a caul there! Go, my son, and remain +until you can outgrow your absurd infirmity."</p> + +<p>I felt dismayed at the prospect, now that it was so near at hand. I +had often—in the distance—yearned for the security of a light-house. +Yet I now looked about on our comfortable parlor with a longing eye. I +recalled the pleasant tea-hour when there were no visitors; I thought +of the fun the boys and girls would have this coming winter, and I +wished father had not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> been so precipitate in securing that vacant +place.</p> + +<p>Just then Miss Gabble came up our steps, and shortly after entered the +parlor. She was one of those dreaded beings, who always filled me with +the direst confusion. She sat right down by my side and squeezed my +hand.</p> + +<p>"My poor, dear fellow-mortal!" said she, getting her sharp face so +close to mine I thought she was going to kiss me, "how do you do? +Wearing them goggles yet? It is too bad. And yet, after all, they are +sort of becoming to you. In fact, you're so good-looking you can wear +anything. And how your mustache does grow, to be sure!"</p> + +<p>I saw father was getting up to leave the room, and I flung her hand +away, saying quickly to him: "I'll get the glass of water, father."</p> + +<p>And so I beat him that time, and got out of the room, quite willing to +live in the desert of Sahara, if by it I could get rid of such +females.</p> + +<p>Well, I went to Buncombe Island. I retired from the world to a +light-house in the first bloom of my youth. I did not want to be a +monk—I could not be a man—and so I did what fate and my father laid +out for me to do. Through the fine autumn weather I enjoyed my +retirement. I had taken plenty of books and magazines with me to while +away the time; there was a lovely promenade along the sea-wall on +which the tall tower stood, and I could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> walk there for hours without +my pulse being disturbed by visions of parasols, loves of bonnets, and +pretty faces under them. I communed with the sea. I told it my rations +were too salt; that I didn't like the odor of the oil in filling the +lamps; that my legs got tired going up to the lantern, and that my +arms gave out polishing the lenses. I also confided to it that I would +not mind these little trifles if I only had one being to share my +solitude—a modest, shy little creature that I wouldn't be afraid to +ask to be my wife.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In a blue summer ocean far off and alone."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I'd forget the curse of my life and be happy in spite of it.</p> + +<p>When winter shut down, however, I didn't talk quite so much to the +sea; it was ugly and boisterous, and the windy promenade was +dangerous, and I shut myself up and pined like the "Prisoner of +Chillon." I have lots of spunk and pride, if I am bashful; and so I +never let on to those at home—when I sent them a letter once in two +months by the little tug that brought my oil and provisions—that I +was homesick. I said the ocean was glorious; that there was a Byronic +sublimity in lighting up the lantern; that standing behind a counter +and showing dry-goods to silly, giggling girls couldn't be compared +with it; that I hadn't blushed in six months, and that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> didn't think +I should ever be willing to come back to a world full of grinning +snobs and confusing women.</p> + +<p>And now, what do you think happened to me? My fate was too strong even +for Buncombe Island. It was the second of January. The tug had not +left the island, after leaving a nine-weeks' supply, more than twelve +hours before a fearful gale began to blow; it rose higher and higher +through the night, and in the morning I found that a small +sailing-vessel had been wrecked about half a mile from the +light-house, where the beach ran out for some distance into the water, +and the land was not so high as on the rock. I ran down there, the +wind still roaring enough to blow me away, and the spray dashing into +my eyes, and I found the vessel had gone to pieces and every man was +drowned.</p> + +<p>But what was this that lay at my feet? A woman, lashed to a spar, and +apparently dead. When I picked her up, though, she opened her eyes and +shut them again. Enough! this was no time to think of peculiar +difficulties. I lugged her to the warm room in the light-house where I +sat and lived. I put her before the fire; I heated some brandy and +poured it between her lips; in short, when I sat down to my little +tea-table late that afternoon, somebody sat on the opposite side—a +woman—a girl, rather, not more than eighteen or nineteen. Here she +was, and here she must remain for two long months.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>She</i> did not seem half so much put out as I. In fact, she was quite +calm, after she had explained to me that she was one of three +passengers on board the sailing-vessel, and that all the others were +drowned.</p> + +<p>"You will have to remain here for two months," I ventured to explain +to her, coloring like a lobster dabbed into hot water.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, I may as well begin pouring the tea at once," she observed +coolly; "that's a feminine duty, you know, sir."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're not afraid of me," I ventured to say.</p> + +<p>"Afraid of you!" she replied, tittering. "No, indeed. It is <i>you</i> who +are afraid of <i>me</i>. But I sha'n't hurt you, sir. You mind your +affairs, and I'll mind mine, and neither of us will come to grief. +Why, what a lot of books you've got! And such an easy-chair! It's just +splendid here, and so romantic, like the stories we read."</p> + +<p>I repressed a groan, and allowed her, after supper, and she had done +as she said—washed the dishes—to take possession of my favorite book +and my favorite seat. She was tired with her adventures of the night +before, and soon asked where she was to sleep.</p> + +<p>"In there," I answered, pointing to the door of a small bedroom which +opened out of the living-room.</p> + +<p>She went in, and locked the door; and I went up to the lantern to see +that all was right, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> to swear and tear around a little. Here was a +two-months'-long embarrassment! Here was all my old trouble back in a +new shape! What would my folks—what would the world say? Would they +believe the story about the wreck? Must my character suffer? Even at +the best, I must face this girl of the period from morning until +night. She had already discovered that I was bashful; she would take +advantage of it to torment me. What would the rude men say when they +came again with supplies?</p> + +<p>Better measure tape in my father's store for a lot of teasing young +ladies whom I know, than dwell alone in a light-house with this +inconsiderate young woman!</p> + +<p>"If ever I get out of this scrape, I will know when I am well off!" I +moaned, tearing my hair, and gazing wildly at the pitiless lights.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a thought struck me. I had seen a small boat beached near the +scene of the wreck; it probably had belonged to the ship. I remained +in the lantern until it began to grow daybreak; then I crept down and +out, and ran to examine that boat. It was water-proof, and one of its +oars still remained. The waves were by this time comparatively calm. I +pushed the boat into the water, jumped in, rowed around to the other +side of the island, and that day I made thirty miles, with only one +oar, landing at the city dock at sunset. I was pretty well used-up I +tell you. But I had got away from that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> solitary female, who must have +spent a pensive day at Buncombe, in wondering what had become of me. I +reported at headquarters that night, resigned, and started for home. +I'm afraid the light-house lamps were not properly tended that night; +still, they may have been, and that girl was equal to anything.</p> + +<p>Such is life! Such has been <i>my</i> experience. Do you wonder that I am +still a bachelor? I will not go on, relating circumstances in my life +which have too much resemblance to each other. It would only be a +repetition of my miserable blunders. But I will make a proposition to +young ladies in general. I am well-to-do; the store is in a most +flourishing condition; I have but one serious fault, and you all know +what that is. Now, will not some of you take pity on me? I might be +waylaid, blindfolded, lifted into a carriage, and abducted. I might be +brought before a minister and frightened into marrying any nice, +handsome, well-bred girl that had courage enough for such an +emergency. Once safely wedded, I have a faint idea that my bashfulness +will wear off. Come! who is ready to try the experiment?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>Murine Eye Remedies</h2> +<p>Murine is a Reliable Domestic Eye Remedy, Perfectly Harmless, and +should be in the Medicine Closet of every Family, as a "First Aid" for +Injuries or Diseased Conditions of that delicate organ, the Eye.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="200" height="351" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>It does not Smart or Irritate the Eye, but is Soothing in its action. +Tonic, Astringent and an Antiseptic Lotion, and while it is used by +Physicians it is in every sense a Domestic Remedy and can be used by +every one with Perfect Safety for the Prevention of Eye Troubles and +for Affections and Diseases of the external surface of the Eye and +Lids.</p> + +<p>Recommended for Weak Eyes, Strained Eyes, Itching Eyes, Red Eyes and +Eyelids, for Well Eyes that are Tired, for Red Eyes from Weeping, for +Redness and Swelling of the Eyelids, and for Eyes affected by the +excessive use of Tobacco and Stimulants.</p> + +<p>Your Druggist sells Murine Eye Remedies. Our Books mailed Free, tell +you all about them and how to use them.</p> + +<p>May be sent by mail at following prices.</p> + +<p>Murine Eye Remedy 25c., 50c., $1.00</p> + +<p>DeLuxe Toilet Edition—For the Dressing Table 1.25</p> + +<p>Tourist—Autoist—in Leather Case 1.25</p> + +<p>Murine Eye Salve in Aseptic Tubes 25c., 1.00</p> + +<p>Granuline—For Chronic Sore Eyes and Trachoma 1.50</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Murine Eye Remedy Co.</span></h2> +<h3>Michigan Avenue and Randolph Street, CHICAGO, U. S. A.</h3> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + +<h2>OGILVIE'S POPULAR<br /> + + +RAILROAD SERIES.</h2> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_169.jpg" width="200" height="290" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>A KENTUCKY EDITOR <span class="smcap"> O. Read</span></p> + +<p>FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH <span class="smcap">A. W. Marchmont</span></p> + +<p>WITH FORCE AND ARMS <span class="smcap"> Howard R. Garis</span></p> + +<p>THE BUBBLE FAMILY 175 illus <span class="smcap">Bob Bubble</span></p> + +<p>200 OLD-TIME SONGS. Words and Music.</p> + +<p>CHORUS GIRLS I HAVE KNOWN <span class="smcap">Frank Deshon</span></p> + +<p>'WAY BACK IN '61 <span class="smcap">G. M. White</span></p> + +<p>MODERN PALMISTRY; or, <br /> +Guide to the Hand <span class="smcap">Ina Oxenford</span></p> + + + +<table class="tb1" summary="List of Books"> +<tr><td>THE RACING PARSON</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Chas. Josiah Adams</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>'WAY DOWN EAST</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Jos. R. Grismer</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>MORE TO BE PITIED THAN SCORNED</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">C. E. Blaney</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>DESERTED AT THE ALTAR</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Grace Miller White</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A WIFE'S CONFESSIONS</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Grace Miller White</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>WHY WOMEN SIN</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Grace Miller White</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A CLEVER ESCAPE</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A BID FOR FREEDOM</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Guy Boothby</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>CHASED BY FIRE</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A GREAT STRUGGLE</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Nat Gould</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>PEOPLE I'VE SMILED WITH</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Marshall P. Wilder</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Richard Henry Savage</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A FASCINATING TRAITOR</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Richard Henry Savage</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A CAPTIVE PRINCESS</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Richard Henry Savage</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>AN EXILE FROM LONDON</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Richard Henry Savage</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>MY OFFICIAL WIFE</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Richard Henry Savage</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>THE TRAGEDY OF ADREA</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">E. Phillips Oppenheim</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>RICHARD BAXTER</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Edward F. Jones</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>THE DREAM OF LOVE</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Emil Zola</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>HIRAM BIRDSEED AT JAMESTOWN</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Hiram Birdseed</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A FAITHFUL LOVER</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Amelie Rives</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A GENTLEMAN FROM MISSISSIPPI</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Thos. A. Wise</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>THE LETTERS OF MILDRED'S MOTHER TO MILDRED</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">E. D. Price</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>THE PRIDE OF THE RANCHO</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Henry E. Smith</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>THE ASHES OF LOVE</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Charles Garvice</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>ST. ELMO</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Augusta J. Evans</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>ARSENE LUPIN, Gentleman Burglar</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Maurice Leblano</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>ARSENE LUPIN versus HERLOCK SHOLMES</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">M. Leblano</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>TANGLES UNTANGLED</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Pat Rice</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>100 STORIES IN BLACK</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Bridges Smith</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>A WOMAN'S SOUL</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Charles Garvice</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>THE CHINATOWN TRUNK MYSTERY</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Olive Harper</span></td> +</tr> +<tr><td>SHERLOCK HOLMES DETECTIVE STORIES.</td> + <td class="f5"><span class="smcap">A. C. Doyle</span></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p>Any of the above books are for sale by newsdealers everywhere, or they +will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents per copy. +Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUB. CO., 57, Ross Street, New york.</h2> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2><span class="smcap">Here's Another One</span>!</h2> +<p>If you have read any of the detective stories which we have +recommended to you, such as <span class="smcap">The World's Finger, Macon Moore</span>, Etc., you +know that our statements in regard to their being "the real thing" +were not overdrawn. We now have another one just as good, which we +unhesitatingly recommend. It is entitled</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_170.jpg" width="200" height="268" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f3">THE HOUSE</p> + +<p class="f3">BY THE RIVER</p> + +<p class="f1">BY</p> + +<p class="f2">FLORENCE WARDEN.</p> +<p> </p> + +<h3>WHAT THE REVIEWERS SAY OF IT.</h3> +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Florence Warden is the Anna Katharine Greene of England. +She apparently has the same marvelous capacity as Mrs. +Rohlfs for concocting the most complicated plots and most +mystifying mysteries, and serving them up hot to her +readers."—<i>N. Y. Globe.</i></p> + +<p>"The author has a knack of intricate plot-work which will +keep an intelligent reader at <i>her</i> books, when he would +become tired over far better novels not so strongly +peppered. For even the 'wisest men' now and then relish not +only a little nonsense, but as well do they enjoy a +thrilling story of mystery. And this is one—a dark, deep, +awesome, compelling if not convincing tale."—<i>Sacramento +Bee.</i></p> + +<p>"The interest of the story is deep and intense, and many +guesses might be made of the outcome, as one reads along, +without hitting on the right one."—<i>Salt Lake Tribune</i>.</p></div> + +<p>This book contains 310 pages, printed in large clear type, and is +bound in handsome paper cover. It is for sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or it will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of price, 25 cents. Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>SENSATIONAL<br /> + + +FRENCH FICTION</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_171.jpg" width="200" height="283" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p>makes a strong appeal to a certain class of readers—people who have +lived long enough to realize that there are huge problems of sex and +matrimony, that can only be solved through the actual experience of +the persons concerned. Numberless books have been and are being +written and published treating on these questions, and if through +reading them we are enabled to enlarge our view, look at our problem +from a different angle, appropriate for our own use the benefit of +others' experience either actual or imaginary, by just so much are we +better able to live and think aright and secure to ourselves the +happiness that is our inherent right and goal.</p> + + + +<p class="f3">SAPPHO</p> +<p class="f2">BY ALPHONSE DAUDET,</p> +<p>is a book dealing with the great elements of love and passion as +depicted by life in the gay French capital, Paris. It created an +enormous sensation when first written, and has been in steady demand +ever since from those who, for the first time, have a chance to read +it. It should be read by every thoughtful man and woman.</p> + +<p>For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, +postpaid, on receipt of price, 50 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>WELL! WELL!! WELL!!!</h2> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_172.jpg" width="200" height="279" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Talk about your mystery and detective stories—</p> + +<p class="f2">THE MYSTERY</p> + +<p class="f1">OF THE</p> + +<p class="f3">RAVENSPURS</p> + +<p class="f2">By FRED. M. WHITE,</p> + +<p>is certainly a hummer.</p> + +<p>Mr. White stands in the forefront of the mystery and detective story +writers of the English speaking world to-day, and this is one of his +best and latest books.</p> + +<p>Do you like surprises that make your eyes open wide? Sustained +excitement and strange scenes that compel you to read on page after +page with unflagging interest? Something that lifts you out of your +world of care and business, and transports you to another land, clime, +and scenes? Then don't fail to read</p> + +<h3>The Mystery of the Ravenspurs.</h3> +<p>It is a romantic tale of adventure, mystery and amateur detective +work, with scenes laid in England, India, and the distant and +comparatively unknown Thibet. A band of mystics from the latter +country are the prime movers in the various conspiracies, and their +new, unique, weird, strange methods form one of the features of the +story.</p> + +<p>Read of the clever detective work by blind Ralph, which borders upon +the supernatural; of walking the black Valley of Death in Thibet, with +its attendant horrors; of the Princess Zara, and her power, intrigue +and treachery laid bare; of the poisonous bees and the deadly perfume +flowers. Unflagging interest holds your spell-bound attention from +cover to cover.</p> + +<h2>NEW! UP-TO-DATE! ENTERTAINING!</h2> +<p>The book contains 320 pages, bound in paper cover, with handsome +illustration in colors. Formerly published in cloth at $1.25, now +issued in paper covers at <b>25 CENTS.</b></p> + +<p>For sale by booksellers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of price. Address</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>The Price Inevitable;</h2> +<h4>OR,</h4> +<h3>THE CONFESSIONS OF IRENE.</h3> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>AURELIA I. SIDNER.</h3> +<p>Confessions of whatever nature always seem to appeal to the American +people, possibly because of the fact that in writing such a confession +the author usually lays bare the one great wrong committed, and +endeavors to show and teach by example and experience how the mistake +or indiscretion could have been avoided, and how, also, there must +always be paid <span class="smcap">The Price Inevitable</span>.</p> + +<p>This story tells, in a series of letters, of a woman who was divorced +from her husband, but who in order to win the love and respect of a +pure, honest man, strives to live aright. She fails to win his love, +however, owing to her past life, but does succeed in redeeming +herself. The story is charmingly written, and is more than +interesting—it holds one spell-bound. It is full of excitement and +action, and the characters are strongly drawn and true to nature. The +moral tone is refreshing and the climax is a lengthy SERMON in itself.</p> + +<p>The book contains 212 pages with 3 full-page half-tone illustrations, +and can be obtained at your dealers or from us, cloth bound, for 50 +cents, postpaid.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>HERE WE COME AGAIN</h2> +<h4>With Another Rattling Good</h4> +<h3>ADVENTURE AND DETECTIVE STORY!</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_174.jpg" width="200" height="281" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f3">SPRIGGS, THE</p> + +<p class="f3">CRACKSMAN.</p> + +<p class="f2">By HEADON HILL</p> + + + +<p>Ordinarily Spriggs was a cracksman, but the information he gained +while at work one night so surprised him, that he forgot to "burgle," +and then and there decided to get busy on a job that meant a cleanup +of a $60,000 diamond. It led him a perilous chase in which the native +priests and followers of a hidden band in India showed him some things +not seen on the "Strand."</p> + +<p>He also has trouble awaiting him on his return to England. His heart +is in the right place, however, a little kindness, sympathy and help +having been all that were required to change his attitude toward +humanity, and he is able to show his gratitude at an opportune moment.</p> + +<h3>A STIRRING, ENTERTAINING,<br /> + + +SPELL-BINDING STORY!</h3> +<p>The book contains 345 solid pages of reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>DO YOU ENJOY</h2> +<p>reading a book that has just enough dash and piquancy about it to +cause a smile to wreathe your face? A book that tells in an extremely +humorous way of the doings of some smart theatrical folk? Life is many +sided, and our book,</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_175.jpg" width="200" height="295" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f1">THE LETTERS OF</p> + +<p class="f2">MILDRED'S MOTHER TO MILDRED</p> + +<p class="f1">BY E. D. PRICE,</p> + +<p>shows one of the sides with which you may not be familiar.</p> + +<p>Mildred is a girl in the chorus at one of New York's famous theatres, +and her mother is a woman who "travels" with a friend by the name of +Blanche. The book is written by E. D. Price, "The Man Behind the +Scenes," one well qualified to touch upon the stage-side of life.</p> + +<p>The following is the Table of Contents:</p> + +<p><b>Mother at the Races.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother at a Chicago Hotel.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother Goes Yachting.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother Escapes Matrimony.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother Meets Nature's Noblemen.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother Joins the Repertoire Company.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother in the One Night Stands.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother and the Theatrical Angel.</b></p> + +<p><b>Mother Returns to Mildred.</b></p> + +<p>Read what Blakely Hall says of it:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I don't know whether you are aware of it or not, but you +are turning out wonderful, accurate and convincing character +studies in the Mildred's Mother articles. They are as +refreshing and invigorating as showers on the hottest July +day."</p></div> + +<p>The book contains 160 pages, with attractive cover in colors. Price, +cloth bound, $1.00; paper cover, 50 cents. For sale by all booksellers +everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of price. Address</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>The Testing of<br /> +</h2> +<h2>Olive Vaughan</h2> +<h3>By PERCY J. BREBNER,</h3> +<h4><i>Author of "The Princess Maritza," Etc.</i></h4> +<p>The stage has ever held an allurement for the lay reader, the general +public, and the uninitiated, so to speak, and Mr. Brebner has chosen +this background for the setting of his story, and has woven around +Olive Vaughan, scenes and incidents showing the temptations to which +every aspirant for theatrical fame and fortune is subject, and showing +too, how, through right decisions and correct judgment based on inborn +and developing strength of character, she is able to rise superior to +her surroundings and wrest a great success. This is not easy to +accomplish, however, and its telling, which shows a fine literary +style and unquestioned powers of characterization and description, is +what makes the author one of the most popular among fiction writers of +the present day.</p> + +<p>It will appeal strongly to every woman who has at any time in her +career been called upon to decide the momentous question of +marrying—whether to follow the dictates of the heart and marry the +one she loves, or follow the decisions of the mind overruling the +heart, and marry one who can give her position and plenty, and whom +she expects to be able to learn to love.</p> + +<p>The book contains 296 pages, printed from new, large type on good +paper, bound in paper cover with attractive design in colors. For sale +by newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of +25 cents. Bound in cloth, price, 75 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>The Confessions<br /> + + +Of a Princess</h2> +<p>A book of this sort would necessarily be anonymous, and the name of +the author is not necessary as indicative of literary ability, the +strength of the story depending upon its action as revealed through +the laying bare of the innermost secrets of a "Princess of the Realm" +whose disposition and character were such as to compel her to find +elsewhere than in her own home the love, tenderness, admiration, and +society which was lacking there, and which her being craved.</p> + +<p>Position, money and power, seem to those who do not possess them, to +bring happiness. Such is not the case, however, where stability of +character is lacking and where one depends upon the pleasures of sense +for the enjoyment of life rather than on the accomplishment of things +worth while based on high ideals.</p> + +<p>The writer has taken a page from her life and has given it to the +world. She has laid bare the soul of a woman, that some other woman +(or some man) might profit thereby. The names have been changed, and +such events omitted as might lead too readily to the discovery of +their identity. Each the victim of circumstance, yet the <i>price</i> is +demanded of the one who fell the victim of environment.</p> + +<p><i>The Confessions of a Princess</i> is the story of a woman who saw, +conquered and fell.</p> + +<p>The book contains 270 pages, printed from new, large type on good +paper, bound in paper cover with attractive design in colors. For sale +by newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt, of +25 cents. Bound in cloth, price, 75 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>AN AUTOMOBILE</h2> +<p>has a fascination for millions of people. There is an exhilaration, a +restful, soothing, satisfying feeling about automobiling for pleasure +that seems different from that achieved in other ways. But it has its +trying, adventurous, and fearful side as well, and so to those who +have experienced these emotions, and to those who would like to +experience them, we heartily recommend the book</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_178.jpg" width="200" height="295" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f3">THE CAR</p> + +<p class="f3">AND THE LADY</p> + +<p class="f2">By GRACE S. MASON and PERCY F. MEGARGEL,</p> + +<p>in which actual experience has been partially interwoven with fiction +in an exciting narrative of a race across the American continent. +Adventure, mistakes, accidents, good fortune, and surprise, follow one +another in rapid succession, keeping the tension of the reader at +excitement pitch until the goal is reached and the prize won—a prize +which at some time in every one's career is quite the only prize on +earth.</p> + +<p>The book contains 276 pages of solid reading matter, printed from +large, new type on good quality of paper, and bound in attractive +paper covers printed in colors. It is for sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of 25 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>LATEST ADDITIONS</h3> +<h4>TO</h4> +<h2>OGILVIE'S<br /> + + + POPULAR<br /> + + + RAILROAD<br /> + + + SERIES.</h2> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_179.jpg" width="200" height="294" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>SPRIGGS, THE CRACKSMAN <span class="smcap">HEADON HILL</span></p> + +<p>LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT <span class="smcap">The "Duchess"</span></p> + +<p>THE TESTING OF OLIVE VAUGHAN <span class="smcap">P. T. Brebner</span></p> + +<p>THE CONFESSIONS OF A PRINCESS —— ——</p> + +<p>SELF-RAISED <span class="smcap">Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth</span></p> + +<p>ISHMAEL <span class="smcap">Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth</span></p> + +<p>ONLY A GIRL'S LOVE <span class="smcap">Charles Garvice</span></p> + +<p>SAPPHO <span class="smcap">Alphonse Daudet</span></p> + +<p>THE HUMOROUS MR. BOWSER <span class="smcap">M. Quad</span></p> + +<p>A BAD BOY'S DIARY <span class="smcap">By Himself</span></p> + + + +<table class="tb1" summary="List of Books"> +<tr><td>A WOUNDED HEART</td><td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Charles Garvice</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>EAST LYNNE</td><td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Henry Wood</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>THE PEER AND THE WOMAN</td><td class="f5"><span class="smcap">E. Phillips Oppenheim</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>ALONE ON A WIDE, WIDE SEA</td><td class="f5"><span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>DANGERS OF WORKING GIRLS</td><td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Grace Miller White</span></td></tr> +<tr><td>A LOYAL SLAVE</td><td class="f5"><span class="smcap">Grace Miller White</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Any of the above books are for sale by newsdealers everywhere, or they +will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents per copy. +Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>MACON MOORE,</h2> +<h4>THE</h4> +<h3>SOUTHERN DETECTIVE.</h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_180.jpg" width="200" height="298" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Here is another rattling good book that we unhesitatingly recommend to +every one who enjoys a thrilling detective story. Each chapter +contains a startling episode in the attempt of <span class="smcap">Macon Moore</span> to run to +earth a gang of moonshiners in Southern Georgia, whose business was +that of manufacturing illicit whisky.</p> + +<p>His capture by the "Night Riders," and his daring escape from them at +their meeting in the Valley of Death, forms one of the many exciting +incidents of the story.</p> + +<p>One of our readers writes to us as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I was absolutely unable to stop reading "Macon Moore" until +I had finished it. I expected to read for an hour or so, but +the situations were so dramatic and exciting at the end of +each chapter, that before I knew it I had started the next +one. I have read it three times, once while practicing +exercises on the piano, and shall read it again. It is a +corker."</p></div> + +<p>The book contains 250 pages, is bound in paper covers, and will be +sent to any address by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents. +Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2><i>READ IT! READ IT! READ IT!</i></h2> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_181.jpg" width="200" height="298" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f3">THE ASHES OF LOVE.</p> + +<p class="f1">... BY ...</p> + +<p class="f2">CHARLES GARVICE,</p> + +<p>The Matchless Magician of Fiction.</p> + +<p><b>UNPARALLELED IN INTEREST!</b></p> + +<p><b>UNEQUALLED IN ITS</b></p> + +<p><b>THRILLING SITUATIONS!</b></p> + +<p><b>Unsurpassed in Dramatic Intensity</b></p> + +<p><b>This Marvellous Story of Love,</b></p> + +<p class="sig4"><b>Passion, Mystery, Intrigue</b></p> + +<p class="sig4"><b>and Adventure Holds the</b></p> + +<p class="sig4"><b>Reader Spell-bound.</b></p> + +<p>From the pastoral beauty and palatial mansions of a northern clime, we +follow hero and heroine, with breathless interest, to the sun-scorched +veldt and arid plains of Southern Africa.</p> + +<p>On two continents we watch the battle between <b>VIRTUE AND +VILLAINY</b>—<b>HONOR AND RASCALITY</b>—<b>JUSTICE AND KNAVERY</b>.</p> + +<p>By the magic art of the author we are transformed from mere readers, +and become actual participants in a life drama of tremendous +interest—a drama which stirs every fibre of our being and sends the +blood coursing like a mill-race through the tense arteries of a +spell-bound body.</p> + +<h3>THE CONVENTIONAL SCORNED!</h3> +<h3>THE COMMONPLACE SPURNED!</h3> +<h3>New Faces! New Types! New Scenes! New Thrills!</h3> +<h3>SEIZE THE GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY HERE AND NOW.</h3> +<h3>Don't Procrastinate! Don't Delay! But Buy and Read this</h3> +<h3>Stupendous Masterpiece of Matchless Fiction.</h3> +<h2>PRICE, 25 CENTS.</h2> +<p><b>The Ashes of Love</b> contains nearly 450 pages of solid reading matter, +printed in large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers +with attractive cover design in two colors. It is for sale by +newsdealers and booksellers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, +postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<p class="f2">Do You Enjoy</p> +<h3>A Good Story of the Western Plains?</h3> +<h3>If So, Don't Fail to Read</h3> + + +<h2>The Pride of the Rancho.</h2> +<h3>By HENRY E. SMITH.</h3> +<h4><i>12mo, 192 Pages. Price, Paper Bound</i>,</h4> +<h4><i>25 Cents; Bound in Cloth, $1.00</i>.</h4> +<p>The story is founded upon his play of the same name.</p> + +<p>The scene is laid in the West, where two college men have gone in +quest of health, and found it. It shows two manly, unselfish +characters, such as the youth of the present day might well emulate.</p> + +<p>It is full of the air, the love, and the excitement of the plains. The +plot is fascinating and the love story charming.</p> + +<p>A pretty romance is woven into the narrative, portraying the personal +charms and clever attractiveness of the Western girl, even though the +daughter of a ranchman. It carries a good moral throughout and is +eminently attractive to both young and old.</p> + +<p>The book contains 192 pages, with a frontispiece illustration. Price, +paper bound, 25 cents; bound in cloth, $1.00. For sale by all +booksellers and newsdealers, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>Eureka Detective Series</h2> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 201px;"> +<img src="images/image_183.jpg" width="201" height="285" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>All of the books in the <b>Eureka Series</b> are clever detective stories, +and each one of those mentioned below has received the heartiest +recommendation. Ask for the <b>Eureka Series</b> detective books.</p> + + +<p>1. <b>Inspector Henderson, the Central Office Detective.</b> By H. I. Hancock</p> + +<p>2. <b>His Evil Eye.</b> By Harrie I. Hancock</p> + +<p>3. <b>Detective Johnson of New Orleans.</b> By H. I. Hancock</p> + +<p>4. <b>Harry Blount, the Detective.</b> By T. J. Flanagan</p> + +<p>5. <b>Harry Sharp, the New York Detective.</b> By H. Rockwood</p> + +<p>6. <b>Private Detective No. 39.</b> By John W. Postgate</p> + +<p>7. <b>Not Guilty.</b> By the author of "The Original Mr. Jacobs"</p> + +<p>8. <b>A Confederate Spy.</b> By Capt. Thos. N. Conrad</p> + +<p class="sig4">9. <b>A Study in Scarlet.</b> By A. Conan Doyle</p> + +<p class="sig4">10. <b>The Unwilling Bride.</b> By Fergus W. Hume</p> + +<p class="sig4">11. <b>The Man Who Vanished.</b> By Fergus W. Hume</p> + +<p class="sig4">12. <b>The Lone Inn.</b> By Fergus W. Hume</p> + +<p class="sig4">13. <b>The World's Finger.</b> By T. Hanshew</p> + +<p class="sig4">14. <b>Tour of the World in Eighty Days.</b> By Jules Verne</p> + +<p class="sig4">15. <b>The Frozen Pirate.</b> By W. Clark Russell</p> + +<p class="sig4">16. <b>Mystery of a Hansom Cab.</b> By Fergus W. Hume</p> + +<p class="sig4">17. <b>A Close Call.</b> By J. L. Berry</p> + +<p class="sig4">18. <b>No. 99; A Detective Story.</b> By Arthur Griffith</p> + +<p class="sig4">19. <b>The Sign of the Four.</b> By A. Conan Doyle</p> + +<p class="sig4">20. <b>The Mystery of the Montauk Mills.</b> By E. L. Coolidge</p> + +<p class="sig4">21. <b>The Mountain Limited.</b> By E. L. Coolidge</p> + +<p class="sig4">22. <b>Gilt-Edge Tom, Conductor.</b> By E. L. Coolidge</p> + +<p class="sig4">23. <b>The Mossbank Murder.</b> By Harry Mills</p> + +<p class="sig4">24. <b>The Woman Stealer.</b> By Harry Mills</p> + +<p class="sig4">25. <b>King Dan, The Factory Detective.</b> By G. W. Goode</p> + +<p>See other advertisement for other list of titles in the <b>Eureka Series.</b></p> + +<p>You can obtain the <b>Eureka Series</b> books where you bought this one, or +we will mail them to you, postpaid, for 25 cents each, or any five for +$1.00. Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>NEW YORK'S LATEST SENSATION</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_184.jpg" width="200" height="296" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p>We have just issued in novel form</p> + +<p>the story of</p> + +<p class="f3">THE DEVIL,</p> + +<p>founded upon the successful and much discussed play of the same name +by</p> + +<p class="f2">FERENC MOLNAR,</p> + +<p>as produced by</p> + +<p class="f1">HENRY W. SAVAGE.</p> + +<p>The title is startling. The story is not so startling as the title +would indicate. It is a <b>strongly moral</b> one, showing in a vivid, +realistic manner the result of <b>evil thinking.</b> The Devil in this story +is <b>evil thinking materialized.</b></p> + +<p>The scene centers in Vienna, and deals with the early love of a poor +artist and a poorer maiden. As the years go by the artist achieves +distinction, and the maiden becomes the wife of a millionaire +merchant—with very little romance in his composition, but thoroughly +devoted to his young and beautiful bride.</p> + +<p>Seven years later the artist (who has been received as a valued friend +of the family) is commissioned to paint the wife's portrait—and the +old love re-asserts itself. For a while the issue is problematical; +but stability of character conquers, and the ending is quite as the +heart would wish.</p> + +<p>The book also contains an article by the noted author, Ella Wheeler +Wilcox, pointing out the strong moral to be deduced.</p> + +<p>It contains 190 pages, printed in large, clear type on best quality of +book paper, with eight half-tone illustrations from the play. Price, +handsomely bound in cloth, 50 cents, net, postage 10 cents additional; +bound in paper covers, 25 cents, postpaid.</p> + +<p>For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail +upon receipt of price.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>OGILVIE'S POPULAR COPYRIGHT LINE</h3> +<h2>THE NEW MAYOR</h2> +<h4>A Novel</h4> +<h4>Founded upon GEORGE BROADHURST'S play</h4> +<h2>The Man of the Hour</h2> +<p>Handsomely bound in cloth and stamped in colors, containing 250 pages +with twelve illustrations from the play</p> + +<h3>Price 50 cents, net, postage 10 cents additional</h3> +<p>It has been issued under the title of <b>THE NEW MAYOR,</b> in order not to +conflict with a book published under the title, <b>The Man of the Hour.</b></p> + +<p>Thousands of people have not had the opportunity of seeing the play, +and to them, as well as to those who have seen it, we desire to +announce that we are the authorized publishers of the <b>Story of George +Broadhurst's Play</b> in book form. There is already an enormous demand +for this book, owing to the fact that the play is meeting with such a +tremendous success, having been presented in New York for over six +hundred consecutive performances, with four companies on tour +throughout the United States.</p> + +<p>The play has received the highest praise and commendation from critics +and the press, a few of which we give herewith:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><b>"THE FINEST PLAY I EVER SAW."—Ex-President Roosevelt.</b></p> + + +<p>"The best in years."—<i>N. Y. Telegram.</i> </p> +<p>"A perfect + success."—<i>N. Y. Sun.</i></p> +<p>"A triumph."—<i>N. Y. American.</i> </p> +<p>"Best play yet."—<i>N. Y. + Commercial.</i></p> +<p>"A sensation."—<i>N. Y. Herald.</i> </p> +<p>"An apt appeal."—<i>N. Y + Globe.</i></p> +<p>"A straight hit."—<i>N. Y. World.</i></p> +<p>"A play worth while."—<i>N. + Y. News.</i></p> +<p>"Means something."—<i>N. Y. Tribune.</i> </p> +<p>"An object + lesson."—<i>N. Y. Post.</i></p> +</div> + +<p>This novel is a strong story of politics, love, and graft, and appeals +powerfully to every true American.</p> + +<h4>SENT BY MAIL, POSTAGE PAID, FOR 60 CENTS.</h4> +<h4>Be sure to get the book founded on the play.</h4> +<h4>You can buy this at any bookstore or direct from us.</h4> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>THE BIG NOISE! THE LOUD SCREAM! THE TALL HOLLER!</h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_186.jpg" width="200" height="273" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f1">You Will Laugh, You Will Yell,</p> + +<p class="f1">You Will Scream at</p> + +<p class="f3">THE BLUNDERS OF</p> + +<p class="f3">A BASHFUL MAN</p> + +<p><b>The World's Champion</b></p> + +<p><b>Funny Book.</b></p> + +<p class="f2">READ IT! READ IT! READ IT!</p> + +<p>It eradicates wrinkles, banishes care, and by its laughter-compelling +mirth and irresistible humor rejuvenates the whole body. Whether you +are a bashful man or not, you should read</p> + +<h3>THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN.</h3> +<p>In this screamingly funny volume the reader follows, with rapt +attention and hilarious delight, the mishaps, mortifications, +confusions, and agonizing mental and physical distresses of a +self-conscious, hypersensitive, appallingly bashful young man, in a +succession of astounding accidents, and ludicrous predicaments, that +convulse the reader with cyclonic laughter, causing him to hold both +sides for fear of exploding from an excess of uproarious merriment.</p> + +<p>All records beaten as a fun-maker, rib-tickler, and laugh-provoker. +This marvellous volume of merriment proves melancholy an impostor, and +grim care a joke. With joyous gales of mirth it dissipates gloom and +banishes trouble.</p> + +<h3>YOU WANT IT! YOU CANNOT DO WITHOUT IT!</h3> +<h4>Better Than Drugs! Better Than Vaudeville!</h4> +<h3>A WHOLE CIRCUS IN ITSELF!</h3> +<h4>The Time, the Place, the Opportunity is Here!</h4> +<h3>BUY IT NOW!</h3> +<p><b>THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN</b> contains 170 solid pages of reading +matter, illustrated, is bound in heavy lithographed paper covers, and +will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address on receipt of price, 25 +cents. Address orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>SYMPATHY AROUSED! SENTIMENT CULTIVATED!</h3> +<h3>LONGING SATISFIED!</h3> +<h2>LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT.</h2> +<h3>By "THE DUCHESS."</h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 275px;"> +<img src="images/image_187.jpg" width="200" height="275" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p>Author of "Molly Bawn," "The Honorable Mrs. Vereker," Etc.</p> + +<p>"The Duchess" is famous as an author of those stories which delight +the heart and mind of young women readers through the artistic +word-painting of scenes and incidents which arouse interest, stimulate +desire, and satisfy the appetite for mental diversion, recreation, +entertainment, and pleasure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Lady Verner's Flight</span> is no exception to her reputed ability; in fact, +in it she quite surpasses her own standard, and the reader follows +with breathless interest the vicissitudes and trials that mark the +course of this pure story of English life in which there are no less +than three love affairs going on at the same time.</p> + +<p class="f2">WITHOUT A PARALLEL IN INTEREST!</p> + +<p class="f1">ABOUNDING IN TENSE SITUATIONS!</p> + +<h2>REPLETE WITH THRILLING INCIDENTS!</h2> +<h2>TRUE TO LIFE!</h2> +<h4>You read this book with delight, and finish it with a sigh!</h4> +<h4>Now is the time to secure a copy!</h4> +<h4>Don't delay, but buy and read this masterpiece of fiction!</h4> +<p>The book contains 310 solid pages of reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>THE SHADOW OF A CROSS.</h2> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>MRS. DORA NELSON</h3> +<h4>AND</h4> +<h3>F. C. HENDERSCHOTT.</h3> +<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_188.jpg" width="200" height="306" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"The sweetest American story ever written," wrote one critic in +reviewing the story, which first appeared as a serial in a magazine of +large circulation. A strong inquiry for the novel in book form +developed, and we have just issued the book to meet this demand.</p> + +<p>The story is wholly American in sentiment, and every chapter appeals +to the reader's sympathies, as the whole book pulsates with pure and +cherished ideals. The love theme is sweet and intensely interesting. +Through the political fight, the victory and the defeat, the love +thread is never lost sight of. The intense struggle in the heart of +the heroine between her Church and her lover is of such deep human +interest, that it holds the reader in ardent sympathy until the happy +solution, when the reader smiles, wipes the moisture from the eyes, +and breathes happily again.</p> + +<p>While the narrative is intensely interesting, it is more; it instructs +and educates. To read it is to feel improved and delighted. Don't miss +this treat; it is one of the very best American stories of recent +years.</p> + +<p>The book is printed on best quality of laid book paper, contains +nearly 200 pages, and is bound in paper covers with handsome +illustration. It will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon +receipt of price, 25 cents. Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"> +<img src="images/image_189.jpg" width="250" height="333" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f2" >LAUGH! YELL! SCREAM!</p> + +<p class="f2">Read It! Read It! Read It!</p> + +<p class="f3">A Bad<br /> + + +Boy's Diary</p> + +<p class="f2">By "LITTLE GEORGIE,"</p> + +<p class="f1">The Laughing Cyclone.</p> + + + +<p class="f2">THE FUNNIEST BOOK EVER WRITTEN!</p> + +<p>In this matchless volume of irresistible, rib-tickling fun, the Bad +Boy, an incarnate but lovable imp of mischief, records his daily +exploits, experiences, pranks and adventures, through all of which you +follow him with an absorbing interest that never flags, stopping only +when convulsions of laughter and aching sides force the mirth-swept +body to take an involuntary respite from a feast of fun, stupendous +and overwhelming.</p> + +<p>In the pages of this excruciatingly funny narrative can be found the +elixir of youth for all man and womankind. The magic of its pages +compel the old to become young, the careworn gay, and carking trouble +hides its gloomy head and flies away on the blithesome wings of +uncontrollable laughter.</p> + +<h3>IT MAKES YOU A BOY AGAIN!</h3> +<h3>IT MAKES LIFE WORTH WHILE!</h3> +<p>For old or young it is a tonic and sure cure for the blues. The <b>BAD +BOY'S DIARY</b> is making the whole world scream with laughter. Get in +line and laugh too. <b>BUY IT TO-DAY!</b> It contains 276 solid pages of +reading matter, illustrated, is bound in lithographed paper covers, +and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address on receipt of +price, 25 cents. Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>The World's Finger</h2> +<p>is the title of the most absorbing detective narrative ever written.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 325px;"> +<img src="images/image_190.jpg" width="325" height="288" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>One would not surmise from the title that such was the fact; but the +closing chapter of the book gives the clue to its meaning: "I swore to +my father on his death-bed that The World's Finger should never point +to a Davanant as amongst the list of known convicts, and that oath I +will keep."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">T. W. Hanshew</span> is the author, and a writer of more exciting and +sensational detective stories cannot be found at the present day.</p> + +<p>One reader writes: "I thought I would read a chapter or two of <span class="smcap">The +World's Finger</span>, to see what it was all about. I soon found out, and it +was two o'clock in the morning before I lay it down, having read it to +the end at one sitting. It certainly is a corker."</p> + +<p>Bound in paper covers; price, 25 cents. Sent by mail to any address +upon receipt of price. Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>STOP! HALT! ATTENTION!</h2> +<p>Read the most astounding and exciting love story of the age</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_191.jpg" width="200" height="290" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f3">ONLY A</p> + +<p class="f3">GIRL'S LOVE</p> + +<p class="f1">BY</p> + +<p class="f2">CHARLES GARVICE.</p> + +<p class="f1">IT</p> + +<p class="f1">ENRAPTURES! ENTRANCES!</p> + +<p class="f1">THRILLS! DELIGHTS!</p> + + + +<p>In this intensely dramatic and thrilling love story, we watch with +bated breath the unfolding of a high life drama of absorbing interest. +Rank and wealth, pride and prejudice, vice and villainy, combine in a +desperate and determined effort to break off a romantic and thrilling +love match, the development, temporary rupture and final consummation +of which, by the genius of the author, we are, with spell-bound +interest, tense arteries and throbbing hearts privileged to witness. +This desperate attempt to halt the course of true love and dam the +well-springs of an ardent and romantic affection, will be watched by +the reader with a boundless and untiring interest.</p> + +<h4>New Scenes! New Faces! New Features! New Thrills!</h4> +<h3>SECURE THIS SUPERB NOVEL</h3> +<p>and learn for yourself the result of this astounding battle of true +love against terrific odds.</p> + +<h3>FICTION LOVERS, NOVEL READERS, TAKE NOTICE!</h3> +<h4>Just What You Are Looking For!</h4> +<p>A story that grips the heart and holds the reader spell-bound from +start to finish!</p> + +<h3>A MENTAL FEAST, A LITERARY BANQUET!</h3> +<h4>You Want It! You Cannot Do Without It! Buy It To-day! Now!</h4> +<p>The book contains 380 pages of solid reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover, printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +<b>price, 25 cents.</b></p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>THRILLING! ABSORBING! DELIGHTFUL!</h2> +<h4>The Story Sensation of the Year!</h4> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 202px;"> +<img src="images/image_192.jpg" width="202" height="284" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="f3">A WOUNDED HEART</p> + +<p class="f1">BY</p> + +<p class="f2">CHARLES GARVICE,</p> + +<p>Author of "The Ashes of Love," "A Woman's Soul," Etc.</p> + +<p class="f2"><b>It Grips! It Holds! It Thrills!</b></p> + + + +<p>By the magic pen of the author we are carried through the seductive +and intricate mazes of a thrilling and romantic life drama of +unparalleled interest.</p> + +<p>In beautiful England, sunny France, and distant Australia, we watch +the movements of life-like, splendidly drawn flesh and blood +characters, and follow their fortunes with a zealous devotion that +never flags.</p> + +<p>With breathless interest we witness the struggle for an ancestral +home, which finally passes into the possession of the scion of a noble +house, the rightful heir, Sir Herrick Powis, thanks to the sacrifices +of the heroine, than whom no more entrancing and beautiful character +exists in the whole range of modern fiction. The ending of the story +is, of course, a happy one, but this is not achieved until the +trusting heart of the heroine has been sorely wounded, and she has +passed through trials and tribulations, which win for her the love and +sympathy of the spell-bound reader.</p> + +<h3>REPLETE WITH THRILLING INCIDENTS!</h3> +<h4>Teeming With Heart Interest and Dramatic Action!</h4> +<h3>NEW! NOVEL! UNIQUE!</h3> +<h4>You Read this Book with Delight! You Lay It Down with a Sigh!</h4> +<h3>BUY IT! BUY IT! BUY IT! TO-DAY! NOW!</h3> +<p>The book contains 400 pages of solid reading matter bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +<b>Price, 25 Cents.</b></p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>100 STORIES</h2> +<h2>IN BLACK</h2> +<h3><span class="smcap">By Bridges Smith.</span></h3> +<p>Not in years, if ever, have we seen or read anything which approaches +the stories in this book for real, true depiction of character of the +Southern darkey of the present day. They are full of humor and +entertainment, and absolutely true to life both as to the incidents +related, and the language used. The latter is so true, in fact, that +our compositor who set the type for the book, said that he had never +before seen anything like the diction and spelling.</p> + +<p>The author held for some years the position of City Clerk in the +Mayor's Office of the City of Macon, Georgia, where opportunities were +presented for full and complete observation of the people in the world +of which he writes.</p> + +<p>The stories originally appeared in the "Macon Daily Telegraph," but +the demand for them in book form was so great that we have now issued +them in permanent binding.</p> + +<p>The book contains 320 pages with illustrations, and is bound in paper +covers with attractive and appropriate cover design. Retail price, 25 +cents. For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by +mail, postpaid, upon receipt of price.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>THIS IS IT! IT!! IT!!!</h3> +<h2>A WOMAN'S SOUL</h2> +<h3>By CHARLES GARVICE.</h3> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_194.jpg" width="200" height="298" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p><b>A Literary Sensation!</b></p> + +<p><b>A Matchless Masterpiece!</b></p> + +<p><b>The Big Noise of Fiction!</b></p> + +<p><b>A Story that Grips the Heart!</b></p> + +<p><b>A Story that Stirs the Soul!</b></p> + +<p>Guided by a master hand we watch with bated breath the unfolding of a +story of unparalleled interest. Ever the unexpected happens, surprise +follows surprise, plot is succeeded by counterplot. Vice and virtue, +honor and knavery, true love and duplicity, struggle desperately and +incessantly for mastery until the mind is bewildered and the heart and +soul are stirred to their very depths.</p> + +<p>Swept irresistibly along the seductive and entrancing streams of +romantic fiction, never for one instant is the reader's interest +allowed to flag. When almost exhausted with the thrilling nature of +the narrative, the end of this matchless story is reached, and it is +then with a sigh of regret the reader bids adieu to characters that +have woven themselves around his heart, and have become part and +parcel of his very life.</p> + +<h3>UNPARALLELED AND UNSURPASSED!</h3> +<h4>New, Novel, and Unconventional!</h4> +<h3>AWAY FROM THE BEATEN TRACK OF FICTION!</h3> +<h4>Classy! Unique! The Story of the Century!</h4> +<h3>READ IT! BUY IT! JUDGE FOR YOURSELF!</h3> +<h3><i>PRICE, 25 CENTS.</i></h3> +<p><b>A WOMAN'S SOUL</b> contains 326 pages of solid reading matter, printed in +large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers with +attractive cover design in two colors. For sale by newsdealers and +booksellers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 +cents.</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>The Most Popular Book In</h2> +<h2>America To-Day</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_195.jpg" width="200" height="299" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p class="f1">—IS—</p> +<p class="f3">"ST. ELMO,"</p> +<p class="f1">—BY—</p> + +<p class="f2">AUGUSTA J. EVANS,</p> + + + +<p>The history of this Book is remarkable. It was first published nearly +45 years ago, and met with a fair measure of success; but it was not +until within the last three years that it achieved special prominence, +since which time over half a million copies have been sold.</p> + +<p>It is hard to account for this wonderful jump into popularity at the +present time, except for the fact that the story is one of real merit, +and is now doubly recognized as such. It is a mark of signal +distinction for the author, to think that she wrote a story so much +ahead of the times.</p> + +<p>The story is founded upon the never-old theme of love—the pure love +of a good woman—and shows the wonders that can be accomplished with +and through it, even to the extent of the reclamation of an extremely +talented and extraordinary man having a predilection for evil and sin.</p> + +<p>No story written in years has aroused the discussion that this book +has.</p> + +<p>Can you afford to miss it?</p> + +<p>Do you want to keep abreast of the times, and read what other people +are talking about? Then buy and read "<b>ST. ELMO.</b>"</p> + +<p>The book contains 440 pages, bound in paper cover. For sale by +booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, +upon receipt of price, <b>25 CENTS.</b></p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>DON'T MISS IT! DON'T MISS IT!! DON'T MISS IT!!!</h2> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/image_196.jpg" width="200" height="294" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + +<p class="f3">=FATE=</p> + +<p class="f2">By CHARLES GARVICE,</p> + +<p>Regal Ruler of the Resplendent</p> + +<p>Realm of Romance.</p> + +<p class="f1">Tremendous in its Interest.</p> + +<p>Weird and Witchingly Fascinating in Plot and Action.</p> + +<p><b>Tense In Its Astounding Situations.</b></p> + +<p class="f2">It Grips! Amazes!! Thrills!!!</p> + +<h4>IT TUGS AT THE HEART STRINGS AND HOLDS ONE</h4> +<h4><b>CAPTIVE FROM COVER TO COVER.</b></h4> + + +<p>In this astounding story of unparalleled interest, we see the sinister +figure of <b>FATE</b> stalk deviously but relentlessly through the mystifying +mazes of love, devotion, intrigue, cunning, cruelty and crime, until a +conscienceless fiend, in human shape, lies prostrate in death, +overwhelmed by the ruthless forces of his own creating.</p> + +<p>Right, truth, justice and love dashed to earth by desperate villainy +and inconceivable cunning, finally triumph in the face of crimes that +crush, and difficulties that overwhelm.</p> + +<p>The reader breathes a sigh of relief that hero and heroine, who have +wound themselves about his heart, are once more happily united, and +that</p> + +<h3>LOVE, THE CONQUEROR, WINS AT LAST.</h3> +<p>This story of love, passion, mystery and revenge, makes the sluggish +blood course wildly through every artery of the spell-bound frame.</p> + +<p>It awakens every emotion of the human heart, and sweeps the vibrant +chords of sympathy and compassion. The book you need. The book you +must have. To-day! Now!! Here!!!</p> + +<h3><b>PRICE, 25 CENTS.</b></h3> +<p>"<b>Fate</b>" contains over <b>450 pages</b> of solid reading matter, printed in +large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers with +attractive cover design in two colors. It is for sale by newsdealers +and booksellers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of 25 cents.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>VAIL'S DREAM BOOK</h2> +<h3>AND</h3> +<h2>COMPLETE FORTUNE TELLER</h2> +<h3>By J. R. & A. M. VAIL</h3> +<p>You dream like everyone else does, but can you interpret them—do you +understand what your dream portends? If you wish to know what it +means, you should buy this book, which contains the full and correct +interpretation of all dreams and their lucky numbers. This book is +also the most complete fortune teller on the market.</p> + +<p class="center">We give herewith a partial list of the contents:</p> + + +<p><b>Dreams and Their Interpretations.</b></p> + +<p><b>Palmistry, or Telling Fortunes by the Lines of the Hand.</b></p> + +<p><b>Fortune Telling by the Grounds in a Tea or Coffee Cup.</b></p> + +<p><b>How to Read Your Fortunes by the White of an Egg.</b></p> + +<p><b>How to Determine the Lucky and Unlucky Days of any Month in the Year.</b></p> + +<p><b>How to Ascertain Whether You will Marry Soon.</b></p> + +<p><b>Fortune Telling by Cards, including the Italian Method.</b></p> + +<p><b>A Chapter on Somniloquism and Spiritual Mediums.</b></p> + +<p>The book contains 128 pages, size 7-5/8 x 5-1/4 set in new, large, +clear type, and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon +receipt of 25 cents. For sale where you bought this book.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>LOVE—COURTSHIP—MARRIAGE.</h2> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 165px;"> +<img src="images/image_198.jpg" width="165" height="236" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>This is the newest and most up-to-date book on these subjects. It +explains how girls may become happy wives, bachelors become happy +husbands. It includes a treatise on "The Etiquette of Marriage," +describing invitations, the dresses, the ceremony, and the proper +behavior of bride and groom.</p> + +<p>In addition to the above there is a most brilliant editorial entitled +"The Real Divorce Question"; also an article giving statistics, dates, +etc., entitled "Alarming Growth of the Divorce Evil," by the +well-known writer, Rev. Thomas B. Gregory; and, lastly, an editorial +entitled "Woman's Dignity," which should be read by every woman in the +country. If the young people of this country would read and study +these serious subjects before marriage the now-popular divorce would +soon become a thing of the past. Remember, from some one little thing +in this book you may be spared a life of misery. 125 pages, paper +bound; postpaid, 25 cents.</p> + + + +<h2>LOVE AND COURTSHIP CARDS.</h2> +<p>Sparking, Courting, and Love-making made easy with these cards. They +are arranged with such apt conversation that you will be able to find +out whether a girl loves you or not without her even thinking that you +are doing so. These cards may be used by two persons only, or they can +be used to entertain an evening party of young people. There are sixty +cards in all, and each answer will respond differently to every one of +the questions. Sent by mail, postpaid, for 30 cents.</p> + +<p>Either of the above will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price by <b>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY</b>, 57 Rose Street, New York.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h3>JUST OUT</h3> +<h2>TEMPTATIONS OF THE STAGE.</h2> + +<p>There is probably no other book of this kind on the market that tells +so much truth from Stage Life as does this one. If there is, we do not +know of it. We herewith give the contents and leave you to draw your +own conclusions:—</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/image_199.jpg" width="350" height="531" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + + + + +<p>Ever in the Limelight.</p> + +<p>"Propinquity" <i>versus</i> "Association."</p> + +<p>Flattery.</p> + +<p>See How it Sparkles.</p> + +<p>Gambling—Drugs.</p> + +<p>Dangerous Pitfalls on the Road to Success.</p> + +<p>My Narrow Escape. <i>By Della Fox.</i></p> + +<p>Girls in Burlesque Companies. <i>By May Howard.</i></p> + +<p>A Nation at Her Feet. <i>By Pauline Markham.</i></p> + +<p>Jane Hading's Career. <i>By Herself.</i></p> + +<p>A Woman's Blighted Life. <i>By Jennie O'Neill Potter.</i></p> + +<p>Cigarette Smoking.</p> + +<p>A Unique Sensation. <i>By Nina Farrington.</i></p> + +<p>Yvette Guilbert's Songs.</p> + +<p>A Tragic End.</p> + +<p>Triumphs and Failures. <i>By Isabelle Urquhart.</i></p> + +<p>A Mad Career.</p> + +<p class="sig4">Likes to Wear Tights. <i>By Jessie Bartlett Davis.</i></p> + +<p class="sig4">Jolly Jennie Joyce.</p> + +<p class="sig4">Thorns of Stage Life. <i>By Maud Gregory.</i></p> + +<p class="sig4">The Stage is Not Degenerating. <i>By Eva Mudge.</i></p> + +<p class="sig4">Ethics of Stage Morality. <i>By Jessie Olivier.</i></p> + +<p class="sig4">Stage-Door Johnnies.</p> + +<p class="sig4">The Pace That Kills.</p> + +<p class="sig4">Cure For the Stage Struck.</p> + +<p class="sig4">Stage Love Letters. <i>Mlle. Fougere.</i></p> + +<p class="sig4">Stock Companies.</p> + +<p class="sig4">From Tights to Tea Parties.</p> + +<p class="sig4">In Other Walks.</p> + +<p>The above book contains 128 pages, bound in paper cover handsomely +illustrated in colors, and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any +address upon receipt of 25 cents. Address all orders to</p> + +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + +<h2>OLD WITCHES' DREAM BOOK</h2> +<h4>AND</h4> +<h3>COMPLETE FORTUNE TELLER.</h3> +<p>You dream like everyone else does, but can you interpret them—do you +understand what your dream portends? If you wish to know what it +means, you should buy this book, which contains the full and correct +interpretation of all dreams and their lucky numbers. This book is +also the most complete fortune teller on the market.</p> + +<p class="center">We give herewith a partial list of the contents:</p> + +<p><b>Dreams and Their Interpretations.</b></p> + +<p><b>Palmistry, or Telling Fortunes by the Lines of the Hand.</b></p> + +<p><b>Fortune Telling by the Grounds in a Tea or Coffee Cup.</b></p> + +<p><b>How to Read Your Fortune by the White of an Egg.</b></p> + +<p><b>How to Determine the Lucky and Unlucky Days of any Month in the Year.</b></p> + +<p><b>How to Ascertain Whether You will Marry Soon.</b></p> + +<p><b>Fortune Telling by Cards, Including the Italian Method.</b></p> + +<p>The book contains 128 pages, set in new, large, clear type, and will +be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon receipt of 25 cents in +U. S. stamps or postal money order. Address all orders to</p> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<h2>J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY,</h2> +<h3>P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK.</h3> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blunders of a Bashful Man, by +Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 20754-h.htm or 20754-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/5/20754/ + +Produced by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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index 0000000..2d90a35 --- /dev/null +++ b/20754-h/images/image_199.jpg diff --git a/20754-page-images.zip b/20754-page-images.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..03be06d --- /dev/null +++ b/20754-page-images.zip diff --git a/20754.txt b/20754.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1edb314 --- /dev/null +++ b/20754.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6107 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Blunders of a Bashful Man, by +Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Blunders of a Bashful Man + +Author: Metta Victoria Fuller Victor + +Release Date: March 6, 2007 [EBook #20754] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Mark C. Orton, Linda McKeown, Sankar +Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team +at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + +The author of this book is Metta Victoria Fuller Victor writing under the +Pen name of Walter T. Gray. But the Author's name is not given in the +original text. + + The Table of Contents is not part of the original text. + + + + THE BLUNDERS + + OF A + + BASHFUL MAN. + + + _By the Author of_ + + "A BAD BOY'S DIARY" + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1881, BY STREET & SMITH. + + + + + NEW YORK: + + J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY. + + 57 ROSE STREET. + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + +I. HE ATTENDS A PICNIC. + +II. HE MAKES AN EVENING CALL. + +III. GOES TO A TEA-PARTY. + +IV. HE DOES HIS DUTY AS A CITIZEN. + +V. HE COMMITS SUICIDE. + +VI. HE IS DOOMED FOR WORSE ACCIDENTS. + +VII. I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE. + +VIII. HE ENACTS THE PART OF GROOMSMAN. + +IX. MEETS A PAIR OF BLUE EYES. + +X. HE CATCHES A TROUT AND PRESENTS IT TO A LADY. + +XI. HE GOES TO THE CIRCUS. + +XII. A LEAP FOR LIFE. + +XIII. ONE OF THE FAIR SEX COMES TO HIS RESCUE. + +XIV. HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT. + +XV. HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW. + +XVI. AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE. + +XVII. HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL. + +XVIII. HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR. + +XIX. DRIVEN FROM HIS LAST DEFENCE. + + * * * * * + + + + +THE + +BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN. + +CHAPTER I. + +HE ATTENDS A PICNIC. + + +I have been, am now, and shall always be, a bashful man. I have been +told that I am the only bashful man in the world. How that is I can +not say, but should not be sorry to believe that it is so, for I am of +too generous a nature to desire any other mortal to suffer the mishaps +which have come to me from this distressing complaint. A person can +have smallpox, scarlet fever, and measles but once each. He can even +become so inoculated with the poison of bees and mosquitoes as to make +their stings harmless; and he can gradually accustom himself to the +use of arsenic until he can take 444 grains safely; but for +bashfulness--like mine--there is no first and only attack, no becoming +hardened to the thousand petty stings, no saturation of one's being +with the poison until it loses its power. + +I am a quiet, nice-enough, inoffensive young gentleman, now rapidly +approaching my twenty-sixth year. It is unnecessary to state that I am +unmarried. I should have been wedded a great many times, had not some +fresh attack of my malady invariably, and in some new shape, attacked +me in season to prevent the "consummation devoutly to be wished." When +I look back over twenty years of suffering through which I have +literally stumbled my way--over the long series of embarrassments and +mortifications which lie behind me--I wonder, with a mild and patient +wonder, why the Old Nick I did not commit suicide ages ago, and thus +end the eventful history with a blank page in the middle of the book. +I dare say the very bashfulness which has been my bane has prevented +me; the idea of being cut down from a rafter, with a black-and-blue +face, and drawn out of the water with a swollen one, has put me so out +of countenance that I had not the courage to brave a coroner's jury +under the circumstances. + +Life to me has been a scramble through briers. I do not recall one +single day wholly free from the scratches inflicted on a cruel +sensitiveness. I will not mention those far-away agonies of boyhood, +when the teacher punished me by making me sit with the girls, but will +hasten on to a point that stands out vividly against a dark background +of accidents. I was nineteen. My sentiments toward that part of +creation known as "young ladies" were, at that time, of a mingled and +contradictory nature. I adored them as angels; I dreaded them as if +they were mad dogs, and were going to bite me. + +My parents were respected residents of a small village in the western +part of the State of New York. I had been away at a boys' academy for +three years, and returned about the first of June to my parents and to +Babbletown to find that I was considered a young man, and expected to +take my part in the business and pleasures of life as such. My father +dismissed his clerk and put me in his place behind the counter of our +store. + +Within three days every girl in that village had been to that store +after something or another--pins, needles, a yard of tape, to look at +gloves, to _try on shoes_, or examine gingham and calico, until I was +happy, because out of sight, behind a pile high enough to hide my +flushed countenance. I shall never forget that week. I ran the +gauntlet from morning till night. I believe those heartless wretches +told each other the mistakes I made, for they kept coming and coming, +looking as sweet as honey and as sly as foxes. Father said I'd break +him if I didn't stop making blunders in giving change--he wasn't in +the prize-candy business, and couldn't afford to have me give +twenty-five sheets of note paper, a box of pens, six corset laces, a +bunch of whalebones, and two dollars and fifty cents change for a +two-dollar bill. + +He explained to me that the safety-pins which I had offered Emma Jones +for crochet-needles were _not_ crochet-needles; nor the red wafers I +had shown Mary Smith for gum-drops, gum-drops--that gingham was not +three dollars per yard, nor pale-blue silk twelve-and-a-half cents, +even to Squire Marigold's daughter. He said I must be more careful. + +"I don't think the mercantile business is my _forte_, father," said I. + +"Your fort!" replied the old gentleman; "fiddlesticks! We have nothing +to do with military matters. But if you think you have a special call +to anything, John, speak out. Would you like to study for the +ministry, my son?" + +"Oh, no, indeed! I don't know exactly what I would like, unless it +were to be a Juan Fernandez, or a--a light-house keeper." + +Then father said I was a disgrace to him, and I knew I was. + +On the fourth day some young fellows came to see me, and told me there +was to be a picnic on Saturday, and I must get father's horse and +buggy and take one of the girls. In vain I pleaded that I did not know +any of them well enough. They laughed at me, and said that Belle +Marigold had consented to go with me; that I knew her--she had been in +the store and bought some blue silk for twelve-and-a-half cents a +yard; and they rather thought she fancied me, she seemed so ready to +accept my escort; should they tell her I would call for her at ten +o'clock, sharp, on Saturday morning? + +There was no refusing under the circumstances, and I said "yes" with +the same gaiety with which I would have signed my own death-warrant. +Yet I wanted to go to the picnic, dreadfully; and of all the young +ladies in Babbletown I preferred Belle Marigold. She was the +handsomest and most stylish girl in the county. Her eyes were large, +black, and mischievous; her mouth like a rose; she dressed prettily, +and had an elegant little way of tossing back her dark ringlets that +was fascinating even at first sight. I was told my doom on Thursday +afternoon, and do not think I slept any that or Friday night--am +positive I did not Saturday night. I wanted to go and I wanted to take +that particular girl, yet I was in a cold sweat at the idea. I would +have given five dollars to be let off, and I wouldn't have taken +fifteen for my chance to go. I asked father if I could have the horse +and buggy, and if he would tend store. I hoped he would say No; but +when he said Yes, I was delighted. + +"I'll take the opportunity when you are at the picnic to get the +accounts out of the quirks you've got 'em into," said he. + +Well, Saturday came. As I opened my eyes my heart jumped into my +throat. "I've got to go through with it now if it kills me," I +thought. + +Mother asked me why I ate no breakfast. + +"Saving my appetite for the picnic," I responded, cheerfully; which +was one of the white lies my miserable bashfulness made me tell every +day of my life--I knew that I should go dinner-less at the picnic +unless I could get behind a tree with my plate of goodies. + +I never to this day can abide to eat before strangers; things _always_ +go by my windpipe instead of my aesophagus, and I'm tired to death of +scalding my legs with hot tea, to say nothing of adding to one's +embarrassment to have people asking if one has burned oneself, and +feeling that one has broken a cup out of a lady's best china tea-set. +But about tea and tea-parties I shall have more to say hereafter. I +must hurry on to my first picnic, where I made my first public +appearance as the Bashful Man. + +I made a neat toilet--a fresh, light summer suit that I flattered +myself beat any other set of clothes in Babbletown--ordered Joe, our +chore-boy, to bring the buggy around in good order, with everything +shining; and when he had done so, had the horse tied in front of the +store. + +"Come, my boy," said father, after a while, "it's ten minutes to ten. +Never keep the ladies waiting." + +"Yes, sir; as soon as I've put these raisins away." + +"Five minutes to ten, John. Don't forget the lemons." + +"No, sir." But I _did_ forget them in my trepidation, and a man had +to be sent back for them afterward. + +It was just ten when I stepped into the buggy with an attempt to +appear in high spirits. As I drove slowly toward Squire Marigold's +large mansion on Main Street, I met dozens of gay young folks on the +way out of town, some of them calling out that I would be late, and to +try and catch up with them after I got my girl. + +As I came in sight of the house my courage failed. I turned off on a +by-street, drove around nearly half a mile, and finally approached the +object of my dread from another direction. I do believe I should have +passed the house after I got to it had I not seen a vision of pink +ribbons, white dress, and black eyes at the window, and realized that +I was observed. So I touched the horse with the whip, drove up with a +flourish, and before I had fairly pulled up at the block, Belle was at +the door, with a servant behind her carrying a hamper. + +"You are late, Mr. Flutter," she called out, half gayly, half crossly. + +I arose from the seat, flung down the reins, and leaped out, like a +flying-fish out of the water, to hand the beautiful apparition in. In +my nervousness I did not observe how I placed the lines, my foot +became entangled in them, I was brought up in the most unexpected +manner, landing on the pavement on my new hat instead of the soles of +my boots. + +This was not only embarrassing, but positively painful. There was a +bump on my forehead, the rim of my hat was crushed, my new suit was +soiled, my knee ached like Jericho, and there was a rent in my +pantaloons right opposite where my knee hurt. + +Belle tittered, the colored girl stuffed her apron in her mouth, and +said "hi! hi!" behind it. I would have given all I had in life to give +if I could have started on an exploring expedition for China just +then, but I couldn't. The pavement was not constructed with reference +to swallowing up bashful young men who wanted to be swallowed. + +"I hope you are not hurt, Mr. Flutter, te-he?" + +"Oh, not at all, not in the least; it never hurts me to fall. It was +those constricted reins, they caught my foot. Does the basket go with +us? I mean the servant. No, I don't, I mean the basket--does she go +with us?" + +"The hamper does, Mr. Flutter, or we should be minus sandwiches. Jane, +put the hamper in." + +Miss Marigold was in the buggy before I had straightened my hat-rim. + +"I hope your horse is a fast one; we shall be late," she remarked, as +I took my place by her side. "Here is a pin, Mr. Flutter; you can pin +up that tear." + +I was glad she asked me to let the horse go at full speed; it was the +most soothing thing which could happen at that time. As he flew along +I could affect to be busy with the cares of driving, and so escape +the trials of conversation. I spoke to my lovely companion only three +times in the eight miles between her house and the grove. The first +time I remarked, "We are going to have a warm day"; the second, "I +think the day will be quite warm"; the third time I launched out +boldly: "Don't you think, Miss Marigold, we shall have it rather warm +about noon?" + +"You seem to feel the heat more than I do," she answered, demurely, +which was true, for she looked as cool as a cucumber and as +comfortable as a mouse in a cheese, while I was mopping my face every +other minute with my handkerchief. + +When we reached the picnic grounds she offered to hold the reins while +I got out. As I lifted her down, the whole company, who had been +watching for our arrival, burst out laughing. Miss Belle looked at me +and burst out laughing, too. + +"What's the matter?" I stammered. + +"Oh, nothing," said she; "only you dusted your clothes with your +handkerchief after you fell, and now you've wiped your face with it, +and it's all streaked up as if you'd been making mud pies, and your +hat's a little out of shape, and--" + +"You look as if you'd been on a bender," added the fellow who had +induced me to come to the confounded affair. + +"Well, I guess I can wash my face," I retorted, a little mad. "I've +met with an accident, that's all. Just wait until I've tied my horse." + +There was a pond close by--part of the programme of the picnic was to +go out rowing on the pond--and as soon as I had fastened my horse, I +went down to the bank and stooped over to wash my face, and the bank +gave way and I pitched headlong into twelve feet of water. + +I was not scared, for I could swim, but I was puzzled as to how to +enjoy a picnic in my wet clothes. I wanted to go home, but the boys +said: + +"No--I must walk about briskly and let my things dry on me--the day +was so warm I wouldn't take cold." + +So I walked about briskly, all by myself, for about two hours, while +the rest of them were having a good time. Then some one asked where +the lemons were that I was to bring, and I had to confess that they +were at home in the store, and dinner was kept waiting another two +hours while a man took my horse and went for those lemons. I walked +about all the time he was gone, and was dry enough by the time the +lemonade was made to wish I had some. But the water had shrunk my +clothes so that the legs of my pantaloons and the arms of my coat were +about six inches too short, while my boots, which had been rather +tight in the first place, made my feet feel as if they were in a +red-hot iron vise. I couldn't face all those giggling girls, and I +got down behind a tree and the tears came in my eyes, I felt so +miserable. + +Belle was a tease, but she wasn't heartless; she got two plates, +heaped with nice things, and two tumblers of lemonade, and sat down by +my side coaxing me to eat, and telling me how sorry she was that I had +had my pleasure destroyed by an accident. + +I had a piece of spring chicken, but being too bashful to masticate it +properly, I attempted to swallow it whole. It stuck!--she had to pat +me on the back--I became purple and kicked about wildly, ruining her +new sash by upsetting both plates. She became seriously alarmed, and +ran for aid; two of the fellows stood me on my head and pounded the +soles of my feet, by which wise course the morsel was dislodged, and +"Richard was himself again." + +After the excitement had partially subsided, the punster of the +village--there is always one punster in every community--broke out +with: + +"Oh, swallow, swallow, flying South, fly to her and tell her what I +tell to thee." + +The girls laughed; I looked and saw Belle trying to wipe the ice-cream +from her sash. + +"Never mind the sash, Miss Marigold," I said, in desperation, "I'll +send you another to-morrow. But if you'll excuse me, I'll go home now. +I'm not well, and mother'll be alarmed about me--I ought not to have +left father alone to tend store, and I feel that I've taken cold. I +presume some of these folks will have a spare seat, and my boots have +shrunk, and I don't care for picnics as a general thing, anyway. My +clothes are shrinking all the time, and I think we're going to have a +thunder-shower, and I guess I'll go."--and I went. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +HE MAKES AN EVENING CALL. + + +It's very provoking to a bashful man to have the family pew only one +remove from the pulpit. I didn't feel like going to church the day +after the picnic, but father wouldn't let me off. I caught my foot in +a hole in the carpet walking up the aisle, which drew particular +attention to me; and dropped by hymn-book twice, to add to the +interest I had already excited in the congregation. My fingers are +always all thumbs when I have to find the hymn. + +"I do believe you did take cold yesterday," said mother, when we came +out. "You must have a fever, for your face is as red as fire." + +Very consoling when a young man wants to look real sweet. But that's +my luck. I'll be as pale as a poet when I leave my looking-glass, but +before I enter a ball-room or a dining-room I'll be as red as an +alderman. I have often wished that I could be permanently whitewashed, +like a kitchen wall or a politician's record. I think, perhaps, if I +were whitewashed for a month or two I might cure myself of my habit of +blushing when I enter a room. I bought a box of "Meen Fun" once, and +tried to powder; but I guess I didn't understand the art as well as +the women do; it was mean fun in good earnest, for the girl I was +going to take to singing-school wanted to know if I'd been helping my +ma make biscuits for supper; and then she took her handkerchief and +brushed my face, which wasn't so bad as it might have been, for her +handkerchief had patchouly on it and was as soft as silk. But that +wasn't Belle Marigold, and so it didn't matter. + +To return to church. I went again in the evening, and felt more at +home, for the kerosene was not very bright. I got along without any +accident. After meeting was out, father stopped to speak to the +minister. As I stood in the entry, waiting for him, Belle came out, +and asked me how I felt after the picnic. I saw she was alone, and so +I hemmed, and said: "Have you any one to see you home?" + +She said, "No; but I'm not afraid--it's not far," and stopped and +waited for me to offer her my arm, looking up at me with those +bewitching eyes. + +"Oh," said I, dying to wait upon her, but not daring to crook my elbow +before the crowd, "I'm glad of that; but if you are the least bit +timid, Miss Marigold, father and I will walk home with you." + +Then I heard a suppressed laugh behind me, and, turning, saw that +detestable Fred Hencoop, who never knew what it was to feel modest +since the day his nurse tied his first bib on him. + +"Miss Marigold," said he, looking as innocent as a lamb, "if you do me +the honor to accept my arm, I'll try and take you home without calling +on my pa to assist me in the arduous duty." And she went with him. + +I was very low-spirited on the way home. + +"As sure as I live I'll go and call on her to-morrow evening, and show +her I'm not the fool she thinks I am," I said, between my gritted +teeth. "I'll take her a new sash to replace the one I spoiled at the +picnic, and we'll see who's the best fellow, Hencoop or I." + +The next afternoon I measured off four yards of the sweetest +sash-ribbon ever seen in Babbletown, and charged myself with seven +dollars--half my month's salary, as agreed upon between father and +me--and rolled up the ribbon in white tissue paper, preparatory to the +event of the evening. + +"Where are you going?" father asked, as I edged out of the store just +after dark. + +"Oh, up the street a piece." + +"Well, here's a pair o' stockings to be left at the Widow Jones'. Just +call as you go by and leave 'em, will you?" + +I stuck the little bundle he gave me in my coat-tail pocket; but by +the time I passed the Widow Jones' house I was so taken up with the +business on hand that I forgot all about the stockings. + +I could see Miss Marigold sitting at the piano and hear her singing as +I passed the window. It was awful nice, and, to prolong the pleasure, +I stayed outside about half an hour, then a summer shower came up, and +I made up my mind and rang the bell. Jane came to the door. + +"Is the squire at home?" says I. + +"No, sir, he's down to the hotel; but Miss Marigold, she's to hum," +said the black girl, grinning. "Won't you step in? Miss will be +dreffle sorry her pa is out." + +She took my hat and opened the parlor door; there was a general +dazzle, and I bowed to somebody and sat down somewhere, and in about +two minutes the mist cleared away, and I saw Belle Marigold, with a +rose in her hair, sitting not three feet away, and smiling at me as if +coaxing me to say something. + +"Quite a shower?" I remarked. + +"Indeed--is it raining?" said she. + +"Yes, indeed," said I; "it came up very sudden." + +"I hope you didn't get wet?" said she, with a sly look. + +"Not this time," said I, trying to laugh. + +"Does it lighten?" said she. + +"A few," said I. + +Miss Marigold coughed and looked out of the window. There was a pause +in our brilliant conversation. + +"I think we shall have a rainy night," I resumed. + +"I'm _so_ afraid of thunder," said she. "I shall not sleep a bit if it +thunders. I shall sit up until the rain is over. I never like to be +alone in a storm. I always want some one _close by me_," she said, +with a little shiver. + +[Illustration: "I'M SO FRIGHTENED, MR. FLUTTER," SAID SHE; "I FEEL, IN +MOMENTS LIKE THESE, HOW SWEET IT WOULD BE TO HAVE SOME ONE TO CLING +TO."] + +I hitched my chair about a foot nearer hers. It thundered pretty loud, +and she gave a little squeal, and brought her chair alongside mine. + +"I'm so frightened, Mr. Flutter," said she: "I feel, in moments like +these, how sweet it would be to have someone to cling to." + +And she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. + +"Dear Belle," said I, "would you--would you--could you--now--" + +"What?" whispered she, very softly. + +"If I thought," I stammered, "that you could--that you would--that it +was handy to give me a drink of water." She sprang up as if shot, and +rang a little hand-bell. + +"Jane, a glass of water for this gentleman--_ice_-water," in a very +chilly tone, and she sat down over by the piano. + +Bashful fool and idiot that I was. I had lost another opportunity. + +After I had swallowed the water Jane had left the room. I bethought me +of the handsome present which I had in my pocket, and, hoping to +regain her favor by that, I drew out the little package and tossed it +carelessly in her lap. + +"Belle," said I, "I have not forgotten that I spilled lemonade on your +sash; I hope you will not refuse to allow me to make such amends as +are in my power. If the color does not suit you, I will exchange it +for any you may select." + +She began to smile again, coquettishly untying the string and +unwrapping the paper. Instead of the lovely rose-colored ribbon, out +rolled a long pair of coarse blue cotton stockings. + +Miss Marigold screamed louder than she had at the thunder. + +"It's all a mistake!" I cried; "a ridiculous mistake! I beg your +pardon ten thousand times! They are for the Widow Jones. _Here_ is +what I intended for _you_, dear, dear Belle," and I thrust another +package into heir hands. + +"Fine-cut!" said she, examining the wrapper by the light of the lamp +on the piano. "Do you think I chew, Mr. Flutter?--or _dip_? Do you +intend to willfully insult me? Leave the hou----" + +"Oh, I beg of you, listen! Here it is at last!" I exclaimed in +desperation, drawing out the right package at last, and myself +displaying to her dazzled view the four yards of glittering ribbon. +"There's not another in Babbletown so handsome. Wear it for _my sake_, +Belle!" + +"I will," she sighed, after she had secretly rubbed it, and held it to +the light to make sure of its quality. "I will, John, for your sake." + +We were friends again; she was very sweet, and played something on the +piano, and an hour slipped away as if I were in Paradise. I rose to +go, the rain being over. + +"But about that paper of fine-cut!" she said, archly, as she went into +the hall with me to get my hat; "do you chew, John?" + +"No, Belle, that tobacco was for old man Perkins, as sure as I stand +here. If you don't believe me, smell my breath," said I, and I tried +to get my arm about her waist. + +It was kind of dark in the hall; she did not resist so very much; my +lips were only about two inches from hers--for I wanted her to be sure +about my breath--when a voice that almost made me faint away, put a +conundrum to me: + +"If you'd a kissed my girl, young man, why would it have been like a +Centennial fire-arm?" + +"Because it hasn't gone off yet!" I gasped, reaching for my hat. + +"Wrong," said he grimly. "Because it would have been a blunder-buss." + +I reckon the squire was right. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +GOES TO A TEA-PARTY. + + +The Widow Jones got her stockings the next day. As I left them at the +door she stuck her head out of an upper window and said to me that +"the sewing society met at her house on Thursday afternoon, and the +men-folks was coming to tea and to spend the evening, and I must be +_sure_ an' come, or the girls would be _so_ disappointed," and she +urged and urged until I had to promise her I would attend her +sociable. + +Drat all tea-parties! say I. I was never comfortable at one in my +life. If you'd give me my choice between going to a tea-party and +picking potato-bugs off the vines all alone on a hot summer day, I +shouldn't hesitate a moment between the two. I should choose the bugs; +and I can't say I fancy potato-bugs, either. + +On Wednesday I nearly killed an old lady, putting up tartar-emetic for +cream-tartar. If she'd eaten another biscuit made with it she'd have +died and I'd have been responsible--and father was really vexed and +said I might be a light-house keeper as quick as I pleased; but by +that time I felt as if I couldn't keep a light-house without Belle +Marigold to help me, and so I promised to be more careful, and kept +on clerking. + +The thermometer stood at eighty degrees in the shade when I left the +store at five o'clock Thursday afternoon to go to that infallible +tea-party. I was glad the day was warm, for I wanted to wear my white +linen suit, with a blue cravat and Panama hat. I felt independent even +of Fred Hencoop, as I walked along the street under the shade of the +elms; but, the minute I was inside Widow Jones' gate and walking up to +the door, the thermometer went up to somewhere near 200 degrees. There +were something like a dozen heads at each of the parlor windows, and +all women's heads at that. Six or eight more were peeping out of the +sitting-room, where they were laying the table for tea. Babbletown +always did seem to me to have more than its fair share of female +population. I think I would like to live in one of those mining towns +out in Colorado, where women are as scarce as hairs on the inside of a +man's hand. Somebody coughed as I was going up the walk. Did you ever +have a girl cough at you?--one of those mean, teasing, expressive +little coughs? + +I had practiced--at home in my own room--taking off my Panama with a +graceful, sweeping bow, and saying in calm, well-bred tones: +"Good-evening, Mrs. Jones. Good-evening, ladies. I trust you have had +a pleasant as well as profitable afternoon." + +I had _practiced_ that in the privacy of my chamber. What I really did +get off was something like this: + +"Good Jones, Mrs. Evening. I should say, good-evening, widows--ladies, +I beg your pardon," by which time I was mopping my forehead with my +handkerchief, and could just ask, as I sank into the first chair I +saw, "Is your mother well, Mrs. Jones?" which was highly opportune, +since said mother had been years dead before I was born. As I sat +down, a pang sharper than some of those endured by the Spartans ran +through my right leg. I was instantly aware that I had plumped down on +a needle, as well as a piece of fancy-work, but I had not the courage +to rise and extract the excruciating thing. + +I turned pale with pain, but by keeping absolutely still I found that +I could endure it, and so I sat motionless, like a wooden man, with a +frozen smile on my features. + +Belle was out in the other room helping set the table, for which +mitigating circumstances I was sufficiently thankful. + +Fred Hencoop was on the other side of the room holding a skein of silk +for Sallie Brown. He looked across at me, smiling with a malice which +made me hate him. + +Out of that hate was born a stern resolve--I would conquer my +diffidence; I would prove to Fred Hencoop, and any other fellow like +him, that I was as good as he was, and could at least equal him in +the attractions of my sex. + +There was a pretty girl sitting quite near me. I had been introduced +to her at the picnic. It seemed to me that she was eyeing me +curiously, but I was mad enough at Fred to show him that I could be as +cool as anybody, after I got used to it. I hemmed, wiped the +perspiration from my face--caused now more by the needle than by the +heat--and remarked, sitting stiff as a ramrod and smiling like an +angel: + +"June is my favorite month, Miss Smith--is it yours? When I think of +June I always think of strawberries and cream and ro-oh-oh-ses!" + +It was the needle. I had forgotten in the excitement of the subject +and had moved. + +"_Is_ anything the matter?" Miss Smith tenderly inquired. + +"Nothing in the world, Miss Smith. I had a stitch in my side, but it +is over now." + +"Stitches are very painful," she observed, sympathizingly. "I don't +like to trouble you, Mr. Flutter, but I think, I believe, I guess you +are sitting on my work. If you will rise, I will try and finish it +before tea." + +No help for it, and I arose, at the same moment dexterously slipping +my hand behind me and withdrawing the thorn in the flesh. + +"Oh, dear, where is my needle?" said the young lady, anxiously +scrutinizing the crushed worsted-work. + +I gave it to her with a blush. She burst out laughing. + +"I don't wonder you had a stitch in your side," she remarked, shyly. + +"Hem!" observed Fred very loud, "do you feel sew-sew, John?" + +Just then Belle entered the parlor, looking as sweet as a pink, and +wearing the sash I had given her. She bowed to me very coquettishly +and announced tea. + +"Too bad!" continued Fred; "you have broken the thread of Mr. +Flutter's discourse with Miss Smith. But I do not wish to inflict +_needle_-less pain, so I will not betray him." + +"I hope Mr. Flutter is not in trouble again," said Belle quickly. + +"Oh, no. Fred is only trying to say something _sharp_," said I. + +"Come with me; I will take care of you, Mr. Flutter," said Belle, +taking my arm and marching me out into the sitting-room, where a long +table was heaped full of inviting eatables. She sat me down by her +side, and I felt comparatively safe. But Fred and Miss Smith were just +opposite and they disconcerted me. + +"Mr. Flutter," said the hostess when it came my turn, "will you have +tea or coffee?" + +"Yes'm," said I. + +"Tea or coffee?" + +"If you please," said I. + +"_Which_?" whispered Belle. + +"Oh, excuse me; coffee, ma'am." + +"Cream and sugar, Mr. Flutter?" + +"I'm not particular which, Mrs. Jones." + +"Do you take _both_?" she persisted, with everybody at the table +looking my way. + +"No, ma'am, only coffee," said I, my face the color of the +beet-pickles. + +She finally passed me a cup, and, in my embarrassment, I immediately +took a swallow and burnt my mouth. + +"Have you lost any friends lately?" asked that wretched Fred, seeing +the tears in my eyes. + +I enjoyed that tea-party as geese enjoy _pate de fois gras_. It was a +prolonged torment under the guise of pleasure. I refused everything I +wanted, and took everything I didn't want. I got a back of the cold +chicken; there was nothing of it but bone. I thought I must appear to +be eating it, and it slipped out from under my fork and flew into the +dish of preserved cherries. + +We had strawberries. I am very partial to strawberries and cream. I +got a saucer of the berries, and was looking about for the cream when +Miss Smith's mother, at my right hand, said: + +"Mr. Flutter, will you have some _whip_ with your strawberries?" + +Whip with my berries! I thought she was making fun of me, and +stammered: + +"No, I thank you," and so I lost the delicious frothed cream that I +coveted. + +The agony of the thing was drawing to a close. I was longing for the +time when I could go home and get some cold potatoes out of mother's +cupboard. I hadn't eaten worth a cent. + +Pretty soon we all moved back our chairs and rose. I offered my arm to +Belle, as I supposed. Between the sitting-room and parlor there was a +little dark hall, and when we got in there I summoned up courage, +passed my arm around my fair partner, and gave her a hug. + +"You ain't so bashful as you look," said she, and then we stepped into +the parlor, and I found I'd been squeezing Widow Jones' waist. + +She gave me a look full of languishing sweetness that scared me nearly +to death. I thought of Mr. Pickwick and Mrs. Bardell. Visions of suits +for breaches of promise arose before my horrified vision. I glanced +wildly around in search of Belle; she was hanging on a young lawyer's +arm, and not looking at me. + +"La, now, you needn't color up so," said the widow, coquettishly, "I +know what young men are." + +She said it aloud, on purpose for Belle to hear. I felt like killing +her. I might have done it, but one thought restrained me--I should be +hung for murder, and I was too bashful to submit to so public an +ordeal. + +I hurried across the room to get rid of her. There was a young fellow +standing there who looked about as out-of-place as I felt. I thought +I would speak to him. + +"Come," said I, "let us take a little promenade outside--the women are +too much for me." + +He made no answer. I heard giggling and tittering breaking out all +around the room, like rash on a baby with the measles. + +"Come on," said I; "like as not they're laughing at us." + +"Look-a-here, you shouldn't speak to a fellow till you've been +introduced," said that wicked Fred behind me. "Mr. Flutter, allow me +to make you acquainted with Mr. Flutter. He's anxious to take a little +walk with you." + +It was so; I had been talking to myself in a four-foot looking-glass. + +I did not feel like staying for the ice-cream and kissing-plays, but +had a sly hunt for my hat, and took leave of the tea-party about the +eighth of a second afterward. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HE DOES HIS DUTY AS A CITIZEN. + + +Babbletown began to be very lively as soon as the weather got cool, +the fall after I came home. We had a singing-school once a week, a +debating society that met every Wednesday evening, and then we had +sociables, and just before Christmas a fair. All the other young men +had a good time. Every day, when some of them dropped in the store for +a chat and a handful of raisins, they would aggravate me by asking: + +"_Aren't_ we having a jolly winter of it, John?" + +_I_ never had a good time. _I_ never enjoyed myself like other folks. +I spent enough money and made enough good resolutions, but something +always occurred to destroy my anticipated pleasure. I can't hear a +lyceum or debating society mentioned to this day, without feeling +"cold-chills" run down my spine. + +I took part in the exercises the evening ours was opened. I had been +requested by the committee to furnish the poem for the occasion. As I +was just from a first-class academy, where I had read the valedictory, +it was taken for granted that I was the most likely one to "fill the +bill." + +I accepted the proposition. To be bashful is a far different thing +from being modest. I wrote the poem. I sat up nights to do it. The way +candles were consumed caused father to wonder where his best box of +spermacetis had gone to. I knew I could do the poetry, and I firmly +resolved that I would read it through, from beginning to end, in a +clear, well-modulated voice, that could be heard by all, including the +minister and Belle Marigold. I would not blush, or stammer, or get a +frog in my throat. I swore solemnly to myself that I would not. _Some +folks_ should see that my bashfulness was wearing off faster than the +gold from an oroide watch. Oh, I would show 'em! Some things could be +done as well as others. I would no longer be the laughing-stock of +Babbletown. My past record should be wiped out! I would write my poem, +and I would _read it_--read it calmly and impressively, so as to do +full justice to it. + +I got the poem ready. I committed it to memory, so that if the lights +were dim, or I lost my place, I should not be at the mercy of the +manuscript. The night came. I entered the hall with Belle on my arm, +early, so as to secure her a front seat. + +"Keep cool, John," were her whispered words, as I left her to take my +place on the platform. + +"Oh, I shall be cool enough. I know every line by heart; have said it +to myself one hundred and nineteen times without missing a word." + +I'm not going to bore you with the poem here; but will give the first +four lines as they were _written_ and as I _spoke_ them: + + "Hail! Babbletown, fair village of the plain! + Hail! friends and fellow-citizens. In vain + I strive to sing the glories of this place, + Whose history back to early times I trace." + +The room was crowded, the president of the society made a few opening +remarks, which closed by presenting Mr. Flutter, the poet of the +occasion. I was quite easy and at home until I arose and bowed as he +spoke my name. Then something happened to my senses, I don't know +what; I only knew I lost every one of them for about two minutes. I +was blind, deaf, dumb, tasteless, senseless, and feelingless. Then I +came to a little, rallied, and perceived that some of the boy were +beginning to pound the floor with their heels. I made a feint of +holding my roll of verses nearer the lamp at my right hand, summoned +traitor memory to return, and began: + +"Hail!" + +Was that my voice? I did not recognize it. It was more as if a mouse +in the gallery had squeaked. It would never do. I cleared any +throat--which was to have been free from frogs--and a strange, hoarse +voice, no more like mine than a crow is like a nightingale, came out +with a jerk, about six feet away, and remarked, as if surprised: + +"Hail!" + +With a desperate effort, I resolved that this night or never I was to +achieve greatness. I cleared the way again and recommenced: + +"Hail!" + +A boy's voice at the back of the room was heard to insinuate that +perhaps it would be easier for me to let it snow or rain. That made me +angry. I was as cool as ice all in a moment; I felt that I had the +mastery of the situation, and, making a sweeping gesture with my left +hand, I looked over my hearers' heads, and continued: + +"Hail! Fabbletown, bare village of the plain--Babbletown, fair pillage +of the vain--. Hail! friends and fellow-citizens--!" + +It was evident that I had borrowed somebody else's voice--my own +mother wouldn't have recognized it--and a mighty poor show of a voice, +too. It was like a race-horse that suddenly balks, and loses the race. +I had put up heavy stakes on that voice, but I couldn't budge it. Not +an inch faster would it go. In vain I whipped and spurred in silent +desperation--it balked at "fellow-citizens," and there it stuck. The +audience, good-naturedly, waited five minutes. At the end of that +time, I sat down, amid general applause, conscious that I had made +the sensation of the evening. + +Belle gave me the mitten that evening, and went home in Fred Hencoop's +sleigh. + +We didn't speak, after that, until about a week before the fair. She, +with some other girls, then came in the store to beg for "scraps" of +silk, muslin, and so-forth, to dress dolls for the fair. They were +very sweet, for they knew they could make a fool of me. Father was not +in, and I guess they timed their visit so that he wouldn't be. They +got half a yard of pink silk, as much of blue, ditto of lilac and +black, a yard of every kind of narrow ribbon in the store, a remnant +of book-muslin, three yards--in all, about six dollars' worth of +"scraps," and then asked me if I wasn't going to give a box of raisins +and the coffee for the table. I said I would. + +"And you'll come, Mr. Flutter, won't you? It'll be a failure unless +_you_ are there. You must _promise_ to come. We won't go out of this +store till you do. And, oh, don't forget to bring _your purse_ along. +We expect all the young gentlemen to _come prepared_, you know." + +There is no doubt that I went to the fair. It made my heart ache to do +it--for I'd already been pretty extravagant, one way and another--but +I put a ten-dollar bill in my wallet, resolved to spend every cent of +it rather than appear mean. + +I don't know whether I appeared mean or not; I do know that I spent +every penny of that ten dollars, and considerable more besides. If +there was anything at that fair that no one else wanted, and that was +not calculated to supply any known want of the human race, it was +palmed off on me. I became the unhappy possessor of five dressed +dolls, a lady's "nubia," a baby-jumper, fourteen "tidies," a set of +parlor croquet with wickets that wouldn't stand on their legs, a +patent churn warranted to make a pound of fresh butter in three +minutes out of a quart of chalk-and-water, a set of ladies' nightcaps, +two child's aprons, a castle-in-the-air, a fairy-palace, a doll's +play-house, a toy-balloon, a box of marbles, a pair of spectacles, a +pair of pillow-shams, a young lady's work-basket, seven needle-books, +a cradle-quilt, a good many bookmarks, a sofa-cushion, and an infant's +rattle, warranted to cut one's eye teeth; besides which I had tickets +in a fruit cake, a locket, a dressing-bureau, a baby-carriage, a +lady's watch-chain, and an infant's wardrobe complete. + +When I feebly remonstrated that I'd spent all the money I brought, I +was smilingly assured by innumerable female Tootses that "it was of no +consequence"; but I found there _were_ consequences when I came to +settle afterward for half the things at the fair, because I was too +bashful to say No, boldly. + +Fred Hencoop auctioned off the remaining articles after eleven +o'clock. Every time he put up something utterly unsalable, he would +look over at me, nod, and say: "Thank you, John; did you say fifty +cents?" or "Did I hear you say a dollar? A dollar--dollar--going, gone +to our friend and patron, John Flutter, Jr.," and some of the lady +managers would "make a note of it," and I was too everlastingly +embarrassed to deny it. + +"John," said father, about four o'clock in the afternoon the day after +the fair--"John, did you buy all these things?"--the front part of the +store was piled and crammed with my unwilling purchases. + +"Father, I don't know whether I did or not." + +"How much is the bill?" + +"$98.17." + +"How are you going to pay it?" + +"I've got the hundred dollars in bank grandmother gave me when she +died." + +"Draw the money, pay your debts, and either get married at once and +make these things useful, or we'll have a bonfire in the back yard." + +"I guess we'd better have the bonfire, father. I don't care for any +girl but Belle, and she won't have me." + +"Won't have you! I'm worth as much as Squire Marigold any day." + +"I know it, father; but I took her down to supper last night, and I +was so confused, with all the married ladies looking on, I made a +mess of it. I put two teaspoonfuls of sugar in her oyster stew, +salted her coffee, and insisted on her taking pickles with her +ice-cream. She didn't mind that so much, but when I stuffed my saucer +into my pocket, and conducted her into the coal-cellar instead of the +hall, she got out of patience. Father, I think I'd better go to +Arizona in the spring. I'm--" + +"Go to grass! if you want to," was the unfeeling reply; "but don't you +ever go to another fair, unless I go along to take care of you." + +But I think the bonfire made him feel better. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +HE COMMITS SUICIDE. + + +Two days after the fair (one day after the bonfire), some time during +the afternoon, I found myself alone in the store. Business was so dull +that father, with a yawn, said he guessed he'd go to the post-office +and have a chat with the men. + +"Be sure you don't leave the store a moment alone, John," was his +parting admonition. + +Of course I wouldn't think of such a thing--he need not have mentioned +it. I was a good business fellow for my age; the only blunders I ever +made were those caused by my failing--the unhappy failing to which I +have hitherto alluded. + +I sat mournfully on the counter after father left me, my head +reclining pensively against a pile of ten-cent calicoes; I was +thinking of my grandmother's legacy gone up in smoke--of how Belle +looked when she found I had conducted her into the coal-cellar--of +those tidies, cradle-quilts, bib-aprons, dolls' and ladies' fixings, +which had been nefariously foisted upon me, a base advantage taken of +my diffidence!--and I felt sad. I felt more than melancholy--I felt +mad. I resented the tricks of the fair ones. And I made a mighty +resolution! "Never--never--never," said I, between my clenched teeth, +"will I again be guilty of the crime of bashfulness--_never_!" + +I felt that I could face a female regiment--all Babbletown! I was +indignant; and there's nothing like honest, genuine indignation to +give courage. Oh, I'd show 'em. I wouldn't give a cent when the deacon +passed the plate on Sundays; I wouldn't subscribe to the char---- + +In the midst of my dark and vengeful resolutions I heard merry voices +on the pavement outside. + +Hastily raising my head from the pile of calicoes, I saw at least five +girls making for the store door--a whole bevy of them coming in upon +me at once. They were the same rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed, deceitful, +shameless creatures who had persuaded me into such folly at the fair. +There was Hetty Slocum, the girl who coaxed me into buying the doll; +and Maggie Markham, who sold me the quilt; and Belle, and two others, +and they were chatting and giggling over some joke, and had to stop on +the steps until they could straighten their faces. I grew +fire-red--with indignation. + +"Oh, father, why are you not here?" I cried inwardly. "Oh, father, +what a shame to go off to the post-office and leave your son to face +these tried to feel as I felt five minutes before, like facing a +female regiment. _Now_ was the time to prove my courage--to turn over +a new leaf, take a new departure, begin life over again, show to these +giggling girls that I had some pride--some self-independence--some +self-resp----" + +The door creaked on its hinges, and at the sound a blind confusion +seized me. In vain I attempted, like a brave but despairing general, +to rally my forces; but they all deserted me at once; I was hidden +behind the calicoes, and with no time to arrange for a nobler plan of +escaping a meeting with the enemy--no auger-hole though which to +crawl. I followed the first impulse, stooped, and _hid under the +counter_. + +In a minute I wished myself out of that; but the minute had been too +much--the bevy had entered and approached the counter, at the very +place behind which I lay concealed. I was so afraid to breathe; the +cold sweat started on my forehead. + +"Why! there's no one in the store!" exclaimed Belle's voice. + +"Oh, yes; there must be. Let us look around and see," responded +Maggie, and they went tiptoeing around the room, peeping here and +there, while I silently tore my hair. I was so afraid they would come +behind the counter and discover me. + +In three minutes, which seemed as many hours, they came to the +starting-point again. + +"There isn't a soul here." + +"La, how funny! We might take something." + +"Yes, if we were thieves, what a fine opportunity we would have." + +"I'll bet three cents it's John's fault; his father would never leave +the store in this careless way." + +"What a queer fellow he is, anyway!" + +"Ha, ha, ha! so perfectly absurd! _Isn't_ it fun when he's about?" + +"I never was so tickled in my life as when he bought that quilt." + +"I thought I would die laughing when he took me into the coal-cellar, +but I kept a straight face." + +"Do _you_ think he's good-looking, Hetty?" + +"Who? John Flutter! _good-looking_? He's a perfect fright." + +"That's just what I think. Oh, isn't it too good to see the way he +nurses that little mustache of his? I'm going to send him a +magnifying-glass, so that he can count the hairs with less trouble." + +"If you will, I'll send a box of cold cream; we can send them through +the post-office, and he'll never find out who they came from." + +"Jolly! we'll do it! Belle won't send anything, for he's dead in love +with _her_." + +"Much good it'll do him, girls! Do you suppose I wouldn't marry that +simpleton if he was made of gold." + +"Did you ever see such a red face as he has? I would be afraid to come +near it with a light dress on." + +"And his ears!" + +"Monstrous! and always burning." + +"And the awkwardest fellow that ever blundered into a parlor. You know +the night he waited on me to Hetty's party? he stepped on my toes so +that I had to poultice them before I went to bed; he tore the train +all off my pink tarlatan; he spilled a cup of hot coffee down old Mrs. +Ballister's back, and upset his saucer of ice-cream over Ada's sweet +new book-muslin. Why, girls, just as sure as I am standing here, I saw +him cram the saucer into his pocket when Belle came up to speak with +him! I tell you, I was glad to get home that night without any more +accidents." + +"They say he always puts the tea-napkins into his pocket when he takes +tea away from home. But it's not kleptomania, it's only bashfulness. I +never heard before of his pocketing the saucers." + +"Well, he really did. It's awful funny. I don't know how we'd get +along without John this winter--he makes all the fun we have. What's +that?" + +"I don't know, it sounded like rats gnawing the floor." + +(It was only the amusing John gritting his teeth, I am able to +explain). + +"Did you ever notice his mouth?--how large it is." + +"Yes, it's frightful. I don't wonder he's ashamed of himself with that +mouth." + +"I don't mind his mouth so much--but his _nose_! I never did like a +turn-up nose in a man. But his father's pretty well off. It would be +nice to marry a whole store full of dry-goods and have a new dress +every time you wanted one. I wonder where they have gone to! I believe +I'll rap." + +The last speaker seized the yard-stick and thumped on the counter +directly over my head. + +"Oh, girls! let's go behind, and see how they keep things. I wonder +how many pieces of dress-silk there are left!" + +"I guess I'll go behind the counter, and play clerk. If any one comes +in, I'll go, as sure as the world! and wait on 'em. Won't it be fun? +There comes old Aunty Harkness now. I dare say she is after a spool of +thread or a paper of needles. I'm going to wait on her. Mr. Flutter +won't care--I'll explain when he comes in. What do you want, auntie?" +in a very loud voice. + +My head buzzed like a saw--my heart made such a loud thud against my +side I thought stars! she wanted "an ounce o' snuff," and that +article was kept in a glass jar in plain sight on the other side of +the store. There was a movement in that direction, and I recovered +partially, I half resolved to rise up suddenly--pretend I'd been +hiding for fun--and laugh the whole thing off as a joke. But the +insulting, the ridiculous comments I had overheard, had made me too +indignant. Pretty joke, indeed! But I wished I had obeyed the dictates +of prudence and affected to consider it so. Father came bustling in +while the girls were trying to tie up the snuff, and sneezing +beautifully. + +"What! what! young ladies! Where's John?" + +"That's more than we know--tschi-he! We've been waiting at least ten +minutes. Auntie Harkness wanted some stch-uff, and we thought we'd do +it for her. I s'pose you've no objections, Mr. Flutter?" + +"Not the least in the world, girls. Go ahead. I wonder where John is! +There! you'll sneeze your pretty noses off--let me finish it. John has +no business to leave the store. I don't like it--five cents, auntie, +to _you_--and I told him particularly not to leave it a minute. I +don't understand it; very sorry you've been kept waiting. What shall I +show you, young lady?" and father passed behind the counter and stood +with his toes touching my legs, notwithstanding I had shrunk into as +small space as was convenient, considering my size and weight. It was +getting toward dusk of the short winter afternoon, and I hoped and +prayed he wouldn't notice me. + +"What shall I show you, young ladies?" + +"Some light kid gloves, No. 6, please." + +"Yes, certainly--here they are. I do believe there's a strange dog +under the counter! Get out--get out, sir, I say!" and my cruel parent +gave me a vicious kick. + +I pinched his leg impressively. I meant it as a warning, to betray to +him that it was I, and to implore him, figuratively, to keep silence. + +But he refused to comprehend that agonized pinch; he resented it. He +gave another vicious kick. Then he stooped and looked under--it was a +little dark--too dark, alas! under there. He saw a man--but not to +recognize him. + +"Ho!" he yelled; "robber! thief! burglar! I've got you, fellow! Come +out o' that!" + +I never before realized father's strength. He got his hand in my +collar, and he jerked me out from under that counter, and shook me, +and held me off at arm's length. + +"There, Mr. Burglar," said he, triumphantly, "sneak in here again +will--JOHN!" + +The girls had been screaming and running, but they stood still now. + +"Yes, _John_!" said I, in desperation. "The drawer came loose under +the counter, and I was nailing on a strip of board when those _young +ladies_ came in. I kept quiet, just for fun. They began to talk in an +interesting manner, curiosity got the better of politeness, and I'm +afraid I've played eavesdropper," and I made a killing bow, meant +especially for Belle. + +"Well, you're a pretty one!" exclaimed father. + +"_So they say_," said I. "Don't leave, young ladies. I'd like to sell +you a magnifying-glass, and some cold cream." But they all left in a +hurry. They didn't even buy a pair of gloves. + +The girls must have told of it, for the story got out, and Fred +advised me to try counter-irritation for my bashfulness. + +"You're not a burglar," said he, "but you're guilty of +counter-fitting." + +"Nothing would suit me better," I retorted, "than to be tried for it, +and punished by solitary confinement." + +And there was nothing I should have liked so much. The iron had +entered my soul. I was worse than ever. I purchased a four-ounce vial +of laudanum, went to my room, and wrote a letter to my mother: + +"Mother, I am tired of life. My nose is turn-up, my mouth is large; I +pocket other people's saucers and napkins; I am always making +blunders. This is my last blunder. I shall never blush again. +Farewell. Let the inscription on my tombstone be--'Died of +Bashfulness.' JOHN." + +And I swallowed the contents of the vial, and threw myself on my +little bed. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +HE IS DOOMED FOR WORSE ACCIDENTS. + + +It may seem strange for you to hear of me again, after the conclusion +of the last chapter of my blunders. But it was not I who made the last +blunder--it was the druggist. Quite by mistake the imbecile who waited +upon me put up four ounces of the aromatic syrup of rhubarb. I felt +myself gradually sinking into the death-sleep after I had taken it; +with the thought of Belle uppermost in my mind, I allowed myself to +sink--"no more catastrophes after this last and grandest one--no more +red faces--big mouth--tea-napkins--wonder--if she--will be--sorry!" +and I became unconscious. + +I was awakened from a comfortable slumber by loud screams; mother +stood by my bed, with the vial labeled "laudanum" in one hand, my +letter in the other. Father rushed into the room. + +"Father, John's committed suicide. Oh! bring the tartar-emetic quick! +Make some coffee as strong as lye! Oh! send for a stomach-pump. Tell +Mary to bring the things and put the coffee on; and you come here, an' +we'll walk him up and down--keep him a-going--that's his only +salvation! Oh! John, John! that ever your bashfulness should drive you +into this! Up with him, father! Oh! he's dying! He ain't able to help +himself one bit!" + +They dragged me off the bed, and marched me up and down the room. +Supposing, as a matter of course, that I ought to be expiring, I felt +that I was expiring. My knees tottered under me; they only hauled me +around the more violently. They forced a spoonful of tartar-emetic +down my throat; Mary, the servant-girl, poured a quart of black coffee +down me, half outside and half in; then they jerked me about the floor +again, as if we were dancing a Virginia reel. + +The doctor came and poked a long rubber tube down and converted me +into a patent pump, until the tartar-emetic, and the coffee, and the +pumpkin-pie I had eaten for dinner had all revisited this mundane +sphere. + +They had no mercy on me; I promenaded up and down and across with +father, with Mary, with the doctor, until I felt that I should die if +they didn't allow me to stop promenading. + +The worst of it was, the house was full of folks; they crowded about +the chamber door and looked at me, dancing up and down with the hired +girl and the doctor. + +"Shut the door--they shall _not_ look at me!" I gasped, at last. The +doctor felt my pulse and said proudly to my mother: + +"Madam, your son will live! Our skill and vigilance have saved him." + +"Bless you, doctor!" sobbed my parents. + +"I will _not_ live," I moaned, "to be the laughing stock of +Babbletown. I will buy some more." + +"John," said my father, weeping, "arouse yourself! You shall leave +this place, if you desire it--only live! I will get you the position +of weather-gauger on top of Mount Washington, if you say so, but don't +commit any more suicide, my son!" + +I was affected, and promised that I wouldn't, provided that I was +found a situation somewhere by myself. So the excitement subsided. +Father slept with me that night, keeping one eye open; the doctor got +the credit of saving my life, and the girls of Babbletown were scared +out of laughing at me for a whole month. + +When we came to talk the matter over seriously--father and I--it was +found to be too late in the season to procure me the Mount Washington +appointment for the winter; besides, the effect of my attempt to +"shuffle off this mortal coil" was to literally overrun our store with +customers. People came from the country for fifteen miles around, in +ox teams, on horse-back, in sleighs and cutters, and bob-sleds, and +crockery-crates, to buy something, in hopes of getting a glimpse of +the bashful young man who swallowed the pizen. Now, father was too +cute a Yankee not to take advantage of the mob. He forgot his +promises, and made me stay in the store from morning till night, so +that women could say: "I bought this 'ere shirting from the young man +who committed suicide; he did it up with his own hands." + +"I'll give you a fair share o' the profits, John," father would say, +slyly. + +Well, things went on as it greased; the girls mostly stayed away--the +Babbletown girls, for they had guilty consciences, I suspect; and in +February there came a thaw. I stood looking out of the store window +one day; the snow had melted in the street, and right over the stones +that had been laid across the road for a walk, there was a great +puddle of muddy water about two yards wide and a foot deep. I soon saw +Hetty Slocum tripping across the street; she came to the puddle and +stood still; the soft slush was heaped up on either side--she couldn't +get around and she couldn't go through. My natural gallantry got the +better of my resentment, and I went out to help her over, +notwithstanding what she had said when I was under the counter. +Planting one foot firmly in the center of the puddle and bracing the +other against the curb-stone, I extended my hand. + +"If you're good at jumping, Miss Slocum," said I, "I'll land you +safely on this side." + +"Oh," said she, roguishly, "Mr. Flutter, can I trust you?" and she +reached out her little gloved hand. + +All my old embarrassment rushed over me. I became nervous at the +critical moment when I should have been cool. I never could tell just +how it happened--whether her glove was slippery, or my foot slipped on +a piece of ice under slush, or what--but the next moment we were both +of us sitting down in fourteen inches of very cold, very muddy water. + +[Illustration: THE NEXT MOMENT WE WERE BOTH OF US SITTING DOWN IN +FOURTEEN INCHES OF VERY COLD, VERY MUDDY WATER.] + +My best beaver hat flew off and was run over by a passing sled, while +a little dog ran away with Hetty's seal-skin muff. + +I floundered around in that puddle for about two minutes, and then I +got up. Hetty still sat there. She was white, she was so mad. + +"I might a known better," said she. "Let me alone. I'd sit here +forever, before I'd let _you_ help me up." + +The boys were coming home from school, and they began to hoot and +laugh. I ran after the little dog who was making off with the muff. +How Hetty got up, or who came to her rescue I don't know. That cur +belonged about four miles out of town, and he never let up until he +got home. + +I grabbed the muff just as he was disappearing under the house with +it, and then I walked slowly back. The people who didn't know me took +me for an escaped convict--I was water-soaked and muddy, hatless, and +had a sneaking expression, like that of a convicted horse-thief. Two +or three persons attempted to arrest me. Finally, two stout farmers +succeeded, and brought me into the village in triumph, and marched me +between them to the jail. + +"Why, what's Mr. Flutter been doin'?" asked the sheriff, coming out to +meet us. + +"Do you mean to say you know him?" inquired one of the men. + +"Yes, I know him. That's our esteemed fellow-citizen, young Flutter." + +"And he ain't no horse-thief nor nuthin'!" + +"Not a bit of it, I assure you." + +The man eyed me from head to foot, critically and contemptuously. + +"Then all I've got to say," he remarked slowly, "is this--appearances +is very deceptive." + +It was getting dusk by this time, and I was thankful for it. + +"I slipped down in a mud-puddle and lost my hat," I explained to the +sheriff, as I turned away, and had the satisfaction of hearing the +other one of my arresters say, behind my back: + +"Oh, drunk!" + +I hired a little boy, for five cents, to deliver Miss Slocum's muff at +her residence. Then I went into the house by the kitchen, bribed Mary +to clean my soiled pants without telling mother, slipped up-stairs, +and went to bed without my supper. + +The next day I bought a handsome seven-dollar ring, and sent it to +Hetty as some compensation for the damage done to her dress. + +That evening was singing-school evening. I went early, so as to get my +seat without attracting attention. Early as I was, I was not the +first. A group of young people was gathered about the great +black-board, on which the master illustrated his lessons. They were +having lots of fun, and did not notice me as I came in. I stole +quietly to a seat behind a pillar. Fred Hencoop was drawing something +on the board, and explaining it. As he drew back and pointed with the +long stick, I saw a splendid caricature of myself pursuing a small +dog with a muff, while a young lady sat quietly in a mud-puddle in the +corner of the black-board, and Fred was saying, with intense gravity: + +"This is the man, all tattered and torn, that spattered the maiden all +forlorn. _This_ is the dog that stole the muff. _This_ is the ring he +sent the maid--" + +"Muff-in ring," suggested some one, and then they laughed louder than +ever. + +I felt that that singing-school was no place for me that evening, and +I stole away as noiselessly as I had entered. + +I went home and packed my trunk. The next morning I said to father: + +"Give me my share of the profits for the last month," and he gave me +one hundred and thirty dollars. "I am going where no one knows me, +mother, so good-bye. You'll hear from me when I'm settled," and I was +actually off on the nine o'clock New York express. + +Every seat was full in every car but one--one seat beside a pretty, +fashionably-dressed young lady was vacant. I stood up against the +wood-box and looked at that seat, as a boy looks at a jar of +peppermint-drops in a candy-store window. After a while I reflected +that these people were all strangers, and, of course, unaware of my +infirmity; this gave me a certain degree of courage. I left the +support of the wood-box and made my way along the aisle until I came +to the vacant seat. + +"Miss," I began, politely, but the lady purposely looked the other +way; she had her bag in the place where I wanted to sit, and she +didn't mean to move it, if she could help it. "Miss," I said again, in +a louder tone. + +Two or three people looked at us. That confused me; her refusing to +look around confused me; one of my old bad spells began to come on. + +"Miss," I whispered, leaning toward her, blushing and embarrassed, "I +would like to know if you are engaged--if--if you are taken, I mean?" + +She looked at me then sharp enough. + +"Yes, sir, I _am_," she said calmly; "and going to be married next +week." + +The passengers began to laugh, and I began to back out. I didn't stop +at the wood-box, but retreated into the next car, where I stood until +my legs ached, and then sat down by an ancient lady, with a long nose, +blue spectacles, and a green veil. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE. + + +It is a serious thing to be as bashful as I am. There's nothing at all +funny about it, though some people seem to think there is. I was +assured, years ago, that it would wear off and betray the brass +underneath; but I must have been triple-plated. I have had rubs enough +to wear out a wash-board, yet there doesn't a bit of brass come to the +surface yet. Beauty may be only skin-deep; modesty, like mine, +pervades the grain. If I really believed my bashfulness was only +cuticle-deep, I'd be flayed to-day, and try and grow a hardier +complexion without any Bloom of Youth in it. No use! I could pave a +ten-thousand-acre prairie with the "good intentions" I have wasted, +the firm resolutions I have broken. Born to be bashful is only another +way of expressing the Bible truth, "Born to trouble as the sparks are +to fly upward." + +When I sat down by the elderly lady in the railway train, I felt +comparatively at ease. She was older than mother, and I didn't mind +her rather aggressive looks and ways; in short, I seemed to feel that +in case of necessity she would protect me. Not that I was afraid of +anything, but she would probably at least keep me from proposing to +any more young ladies. Alas! how _could_ I have any presentiment of +the worse danger lurking in store for me? How could I, young, +innocent, and inexperienced, foresee the unforeseeable? I could not. +Reviewing all the circumstances by the light of wiser days, I still +deny that I was in any way, shape, or manner to blame for what +occurred. I sat in my half of the seat, occupying as little room as +possible, my eyes fixed on the crimson plush cushions of the seat +before me, my thoughts busy with the mortifying past, and the great +unknown future into which I was blindly rushing at the rate of thirty +miles an hour--sat there, dreading the great city into which I was so +soon to plunge--when a voice, closely resembling vinegar sweetened +with honey, said, close to my ear: + +"Goin' to New York, sir?" + +"Yes, ma'am," I answered, coming out of my reverie with a little jump. + +"I'm real glad," said my companion, taking off her blue spectacles, +and leaning toward me confidentially; "so I am. I'm quite unprotected, +sir, quite, and I shall be thankful to place myself under your care. +I'm goin' down to the city to buy my spring stock o' millinery, an' +any little attention you can show me will be gratefully +received--gratefully. I don't mind admitting to _you_, young man, for +you look pure and uncorrupted, that I am terribly afraid of men. They +are wicked, heartless creatures. I feel that I might more safely trust +myself with ravening wolves than with men in general, but _you_ are +different. _You_ have had a good mother." + +"Yes, ma'am, I have," I responded, rather warmly. + +I was pleased at her commendation of me and mother, but puzzled as to +the character of the danger to which she referred. I finally concluded +that she was afraid of being robbed, and I put my lips close to her +ear, so that no one should overhear us, and asked: + +"Do you carry your money about you?--you ought not to run such a risk. +I've been told there are always one or more thieves on every express +train." + +"My dear young friend," she whispered back, very, very close in my +ear, "I was not thinking of money--_that_ is all in checks, safely +deposited in--in--in te-he! inside the lining of my waist. I was only +referring to the dangers which ever beset the unmarried lady, +especially the unsophisticated maiden, far, far from her native +village. Why, would you believe it, already, sir, since I left home, a +man, a _gentleman_, sitting in the very seat where you sit now, made +love to me, out-and-out!" + +"Made love to you?" I stammered, shrinking into the farthest corner, +and regarding her with undisguised astonishment. + +"You may well appear surprised. Promise me that you will remain by my +side until we reach our destination." + +She appeared kind of nervous and agitated, and I promised. Instead of +being protected, I found myself figuring in the _role_ of protector. +My timid companion did the most of the talking; she pumped me pretty +dry of facts about myself, and confided to me that she was doing a +good business--making eight hundred a year clear profit--and all she +wanted to complete her satisfaction was the right kind of a partner. + +She proposed to me to become that partner. I said that I did not +understand the millinery business; she said I had been a clerk in a +dry-goods store, and that was the first step; I said I didn't think I +should fancy the bonnet line. She said I should be a _silent_ partner; +all in the world I'd have to do would be to post the books, and she'd +warrant me a thousand dollars a year, for the business would double. I +said I had but one hundred and thirty dollars; she said, write to my +pa for more, but she'd take me without a cent--there was something in +my face that showed her I was to be trusted. + +She was so persistent that I began to be alarmed--I felt that I should +be drawn into that woman's clutches against my will. I got pale and +cold, and the perspiration broke out on my brow. Was it for this I +had fled from home and friends? To become a partner in the +hat-and-bonnet business, with a dreadful old maid, who wore blue +spectacles and curled her false hair. I shivered. + +"Poor darling!" said she, "the boy is cold," and she wrapped me up in +a big plaid shawl of her own. + +The very touch of that shawl made me feel as if I had a thousand +caterpillars crawling over me; yet I was too bashful to break loose +from its folds. I grew feverish. + +"There," said she, "you are getting your color back." + +The more attention she paid to me the more homesick I grew. I looked +piteously in the conductor's face as he passed by. He smiled +relentlessly. I glanced wildly yet furtively about to see if, +perchance, a vacant seat were to be descried. + +"Rest thy head on this shoulder; thou art weary," she said. "I will +put my veil over your face and you can catch a nap." + +But I was not to be caught napping. + +"No, I thank you--I never sleep in the day time," I stammered. + +Oh, what a ride I was having! How wretched I felt! Yet I was too +bashful to shake off the shawl and stand up before a car-load of +people. + +Suddenly, something happened. The blue spectacles flew over my head, +and I flew over the seat in front of me. Thank goodness! I was saved +from that female! I picked myself up from out of the _debris_ of the +wreck. I saw a green veil, and a lady looking around for her lost +teeth, and having ascertained that no one was killed, I limped away +and hid behind a stump. I stayed behind that stump three mortal hours. +When the train went again on its winding way I was not one of the +passengers. I walked, bruised and sore as I was, to the nearest +village, and took the first train in the opposite direction. That +evening, as father and mother were sitting down to their solitary but +excellent tea, I walked in on 'em. + +"No more foreign trips for me," said I; "I will stick to Babbletown, +and try and stand the consequences." + +About four days after this, father laid a letter on the counter before +me--a large, long, yellow envelope, with a big red seal. "Read that," +was his brief comment. + +I took it up, unfolded the foolscap, and read: + + "JOHN FLUTTER, SENIOR:--I have the honor to inform you that + my client, Miss Alvira Slimmens, has instructed me to + proceed against your son for breach of promise of marriage, + laying her damages at twelve hundred dollars. As your son is + not legally of age, we shall hold you responsible. A + compromise, to avoid publicity of suit, is possible. Send + us your check for $1,000 and you will hear no more of this + matter. + +"Respectfully, + +"WILLIAM BLACK, Attorney-at-Law, + +"_Pennyville, N. Y._" + +"Oh, father!" I cried, "I swear to you this is not my fault!" Looking +up in distress I saw that my parent was laughing. + +"I have heard of Alvira before," said he; "no, it is _not_ your fault, +my poor boy. Let me see, Alvira was thirty twenty-one years ago when I +was married to your ma. I used to be in Pennyville sometimes, in those +days, and she was sweet on me, John, then. I'll answer this letter, +and answer it to her, and not her lawyer. Don't you be uneasy, my son. +I'll tend to her. But you had a narrow escape; I don't wonder you, +with your bashfulness, fled homeward to your ma." + +"Then it wasn't my blunder this time, father?" + +"I exonerate you, my son!" + +For once a glow of happiness diffused itself over my much-tried +spirits. I was so exalted that when a young lady came in for a bottle +of bandoline I gave her Spaulding's prepared glue instead; and the +next time I met that young lady she wore a bang--she had used the +new-fangled bandoline, and the only way to get the stuff out of her +hair was to cut it off. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +HE ENACTS THE PART OF GROOMSMAN. + + +"Out of the frying-pan into the fire!" This should have been my chosen +motto from the beginning. The performance of the maddening feat +indicated in the proverb has been the principal business of my life. I +am always finding myself in the frying-pan, and always flopping out +into the fire. My father's interference saved me from the dreadful old +creature into whose net I had stumbled when I fled from my native +village, only to return with the certainty that I was unfit to cope +with the world outside of it. + +"I will never put my foot beyond the township line again," I vowed to +my secret soul. I had a harrowing sorrow preying upon me all the +remainder of the winter. I was given to understand that Belle Marigold +was actually engaged to Fred Hencoop. And she might have been mine! +Alas, that mighty _might_! + + "Of all sad words of tongue or pen + The saddest are these--'It might have been!'" + +I am positive that when I first came home from school she admired me +very much. She welcomed my early attentions. It was only the +ridiculous blunders into which my bashfulness continually drove me +that alienated her regard. If I had not caught my foot in the reins +that time I got out of the buggy in front of her house--if I had not +fallen in the water and had my clothes shrink in drying--nor choked +almost to death--nor got under the counter--nor failed to "speak my +piece"--nor sat down in that mud-puddle--nor committed suicide--nor +run away from home--nor performed any other of the thousand-and-one +absurd feats into which my constitutional embarrassment was +everlastingly urging me, I declare boldly, "Belle might have been +mine." She had encouraged me at first. Now it was too late. She had +"declined," as Tennyson says, "on a lower love than mine"--on Fred +Hencoop's. + +The thought was despair. Never did I realized of what the human heart +is capable until Belle came into the store, one lovely spring morning, +looking like a seraph in a new spring bonnet, and blushingly--with a +saucy flash of her dark eyes that made her rising color all the more +divine--inquired for table-damask and 4-4 sheetings. + +With an ashen brow and quivering lip, I displayed before her our best +assortment of table-cloths and napkins, pillow-casing and sheeting. +Her mother accompanied her to give her the benefit of her experience; +and kept telling her daughter to choose the best, and what and how +many dozens she had before she was married. + +They ran up a big bill at the store that morning, and father came +behind the counter to help, and was mightily pleased; but I felt as if +I were measuring off cloth for my own shroud. + +"Come, John, you go do up the sugar for Widow Smith, her boy is +waiting," said my parent, seeing the muddle into which I was getting +things. "I will attend to these ladies--twelve yards of the +pillow-casing, did you say, Mrs. Marigold?" + +I moved down to the end of the store and weighed and tied up in brown +paper the "three pounds of white sugar to make cake for the +sewin'-society," which the lad had asked for. A little girl came in +for a pound of bar-soap, and I attended to her wants. Then another +boy, with a basket, came in a hurry for a dozen of eggs. You see, ours +was one of those village-stores that combine all things. + +While I waited on these insignificant customers father measured off +great quantities of white goods for the two ladies; and I strained my +ears to hear every word that was said. They asked father if he was +going to New York _soon_? He said, in about ten days. Then Mrs. +Marigold confided to him that they wanted him to purchase twenty-five +yards of white corded silk. + +If every cord in that whole piece of silk had been drawing about my +throat I couldn't have felt more suffocated. I sat right down, I felt +so faint, in a tub of butter. I had just sense enough left to remember +that I had on my new spring lavender pants. The butter was +disgustingly soft and mushy. + +"Come here, John, and add up this bill," called father. + +"I can't; I'm sick." + +I had got up from the tub and was leaning on the counter--I was pale, +I know. + +"Why, what's the matter?" he asked. + +Belle cast one guilty look in my direction. "It's the spring weather, +I dare say," she said softly to my parent. + +I sneaked out of the back door and went across the yard to the house +to change my pants. I _was_ sick, and I did not emerge from my room +until the dinner-bell rang. + +I went down then, and found father, usually so good-natured, looking +cross, as he carved the roast beef. + +"You will never be good for anything, John," was his salutation--"at +least, not as a clerk. I've a good mind to write to Captain Hall to +take you to the North Pole." + +"What's up, father?" + +"Oh, nothing!" _very_ sarcastically. "That white sugar you sent Mrs. +Smith was table-salt, and she made a whole batch of cake out of it +before she discovered her mistake. She was out of temper when she flew +in the store, I tell you. I had not only to give her the sugar, but +enough butter and eggs to make good her loss, and throw in a neck-tie +to compensate her for waste of time. Before she got away, in came the +mother of the little girl to whom you had given a slab of molasses +candy for bar-soap, and said that the child had brought nothing home +but some streaks of molasses on her face. Just as I was coming out to +dinner the other boy brought back the porcelain eggs you had given him +with word that 'Ma had biled 'em an hour, and she couldn't even budge +the shells.' So you see, my son, that in a miscellaneous store you are +quite out of your element." + +"It was that flirt of a Belle Marigold that upset him," said mother, +laughing so that she spilled the gravy on the table-cloth. "He'll be +all right when she is once Mrs. Hencoop." + +That very evening Fred came in the store to ask me to be his +groomsman. + +"We're going to be married the first of June," he told me, grinning +like an idiot. + +"Does Belle know that you invite me to be groomsman?" I responded, +gloomily. + +"Yes; she suggested that you be asked. Rose Ellis is to be +bridesmaid." + +"Very well; I accept." + +"All right, old fellow. Thank you," slapping me on the back. + +As I lay tossing restlessly on my bed that night--after an hour spent +in a vain attempt to take the butter out of my lavenders with French +chalk--I made a new and firm resolution. I would make Belle sorry that +she had given her preference to Fred. I would so bear myself--during +our previous meetings and consultations, and during the day of the +ceremony--that she should bitterly repent not having given me an +opportunity to conquer my diffidence before taking up with Frederick +Hencoop. The opportunity was given me to redeem myself. I would prove +that, although modest, I was a gentleman; that the blushing era of +inexperience could be succeeded by one of calm grandeur. Chesterfield +could never have been more quietly self-possessed; Beau Brummell more +imperturbable. I would get by heart all the little formalities of the +occasion, and, when the time came, I would execute them with +consummate ease. + +These resolutions comforted me--supported me under the weight of +despair I had to endure. Ha! yes. I would show some people that some +things could be done as well as others. + +It was four weeks to the first of June. As I had ruined my lavender +trousers I ordered another pair, with suitable neck-tie, vest, and +gloves, from New York. I also ordered three different and +lately-published books on etiquette. I studied in all three of these +the etiquette of weddings. I thoroughly posted myself on the ancient, +the present, and the future duties of "best men" on such occasions. I +learned how they do it in China, in Turkey, in Russia, in New Zealand, +more particularly how it is done, at present, in England and America. +As the day drew nigh I felt equal to the emergency I had a powerful +motive for acquitting myself handsomely. I wanted to show _her_ what a +mistake she had made. + +The wedding was to take place in church at eight o'clock in the +evening. The previous evening we--that is, the bride-elect, groom, +bridesmaid, and groomsman, parents, and two or three friends--had a +private rehearsal, one of the friends assuming the part of clergyman. +All went merry as a marriage bell. I was the soul of ease and grace: +Fred was the awkward one, stepping on the bride's train, dropping the +ring, and so forth. + +"I declare, Mr. Flutter, I never saw any one improve as you have," +said Belle, aside to me, when we had returned to her house. "I do hope +poor Fred will get along better to-morrow. I shall be really vexed at +him if anything goes wrong." + +"You must forgive a little flustration on his part," I loftily +answered. "Perhaps, were I in his place, I should be agitated too." + +Well, the next evening came, and at seven o'clock I repaired to the +squire's residence. Fred was already there, walking up and down the +parlor, a good deal excited, but dressed faultlessly and looking +frightfully well. + +"Why, John," was his first greeting, "aren't you going to wear any +cravat?" + +I put my hand up to my neck and dashed madly back a quarter of a mile +for the delicate white silk tie I had left on my dressing bureau. +This, of course, made me uncomfortably warm. When I got back to the +squire's I was in a perspiration, felt that my calm brow was flushed, +and had to wipe it with my handkerchief. + +"Come," said that impatient Fred, "you have just two minutes to get +your gloves on." + +My hands were damp, and being hurried had the effect to make me +nervous, in spite of four long weeks' constant resolution. What with +the haste and perspiration, I tore the thumb completely out of the +left glove. + +Never mind; no time to mend, in spite of the proverb. + +The bride came down-stairs, cool, white, and delicious as an orange +blossom. She was helped into one carriage; Fred and I entered another. + +"I hope you feel cool," I said to Fred. + +"I hope _you_ do," he retorted. + +I have always laid the catastrophe which followed to the first mistake +in having to fly home for my neck-tie. I was disconcerted by that, and +I couldn't exactly get concerted again. + +I don't know what happened after the carriage stopped at the church +door--I must take the report of my friends for it. They say that I +bolted at the last moment, and followed the bride up one aisle instead +of the groom up the other, as I should have done. But I was perfectly +calm and collected. Oh, yes, that was why, when we attempted to form +in front of the altar, I insisted on standing next to Belle, and when +I was finally pushed into my place by the irate Fred, I kept diving +forward every time the clergyman said anything, trying to take the +bride's hand, and responding, "Belle, I take thee to be my lawful, +wedded," answering, "I do," loudly, to every question, even to that +"Who gives this woman?" etc., until every man, woman, and child in +church was tittering and giggling, and the holy man had to come to a +full pause, and request me to realize that it was not I who was being +married. + +"I do. With all my worldly goods I thee endow," was my reply to his +reminder. + +"For Heaven's sake subside, or I'll thrash you within an inch of your +life when I get out of this," whispered Fred. + +Dimly mistrusting that I was on the wrong track, I turned and seized +Mrs. Marigold by the hand, and began to feel in my pocket for a ring, +because I saw the groom taking one out of his pocket. + +The giggling and tittering increased; somebody--father or the +constable--took me by the shoulder and marched me out of that; after +which, I suppose, the ceremony was duly concluded. I only know that +somebody knocked me down about five minutes afterward--I have been +told that it was the bridegroom who did it--and that all the books of +etiquette on earth won't fortify a man against the attacks of +constitutional bashfulness. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MEETS A PAIR OF BLUE EYES. + + +I kept pretty quiet the remainder of that summer--didn't even attend +church for several weeks. In fact, I got father to give me a vacation, +and beat a retreat into the country during the month of July, to an +aunt of mine, who lived on a small farm with her husband, her son of +fourteen, and a "hand." Their house was at least a mile from the +nearest neighbor's, and as I was less afraid of Aunt Jerusha than of +any other being of her sex, and as there was not another frock, +sun-bonnet, or apron within the radius of a mile, I promised myself a +month of that negative bliss which comes from retrospection, solitude, +and the pleasure of following the men about the harvest-field. Sitting +quietly under some shadowing tree, with my line cast into the still +pool of a little babbling trout-brook, where it was held in some +hollow of nature's hand, I had leisure to forget the past and to make +good resolutions for the future. Belle Marigold was forever lost to +me. She was Mrs. Hencoop; and Fred had knocked me down because I had +been so unfortunate as to lose my presence of mind at his wedding. +All was over between us. + +The course now open for me to pursue was to forever steel my heart to +the charms of the other sex, to attend strictly to business, to grow +rich and honored, while, at the same time, I hardened into a sort of +granite obelisk, incapable of blushing, faltering, or stepping on +other people's toes. + +One day, as the men were hauling in the "loaded wains" from the fields +to the great barn, I sat under my favorite tree, as usual, waiting for +a bite. Three speckled beauties already lay in a basin of water at my +side, and I was thinking what a pleasant world this would be were +there no girls in it, when suddenly I heard a burst of silvery +laughter! + +Looking up, there, on the opposite side of the brook, stood two young +ladies! They were evidently city girls. Their morning toilets were the +perfection of simple elegance--hats, parasols, gloves, dresses, the +very cream of style. + +Both of them were pretty--one a dark, bright-eyed brunette, the other +a blonde, fair as a lily and sweet as a rose. Their faces sparkled +with mischief, but they made a great effort to resume their dignity. + +I jumped to my feet, putting one of them--my feet, I mean--in the +basin of water I had for my trout. + +"Oh, it's too bad to disturb you, sir," said the dark-eyed one. "You +were just having a nibble, I do believe. But we have lost our way. We +are boarding at the Widow Cooper's, and came out for a ramble in the +woods, and got lost; and here, just as we thought we were on the right +way home, we came to this naughty little river, or whatever you call +it, and can't go a step farther. Is there no way of getting across it, +sir?" + +"There is a bridge about a quarter of a mile above here, but to get to +it you will have to go through a field in which there is a very cross +bull. Then there is a log just down here a little ways--I'll show it +to you, ladies"; and tangling my beautiful line inextricably in my +embarrassment, I threw down my fishing-rod and led the way, I on one +side of the stream and they on the other. + +"Oh, oh!" cried Blue-Eyes, when we reached the log. "I'll be sure to +get dizzy and fall off." + +"Nonsense!" said Black-Eyes, bravely, and walked over without winking. + +"I shall never--never dare!" screamed Blue-Eyes. + +"Allow me to assist you, miss," I said, in my best style, going on the +log and reaching out my hand to steady her. + +She laid her little gray glove in my palm, and put one tiny slipper on +the log, and then she stood, the little coquette! shrinking and +laughing, and taking a step and retreating, and I falling head over +ears in love with her, deeper and deeper every second. I do believe, +if the other one hadn't been there, I would have taken her right up in +my arms and carried her over. Well, Black-Eyes began to scold, and so, +at last, she ventured across, and then she said she was tired and +thirsty, and did wish she had a glass of milk; and so I asked her to +go to the house, and rest a few minutes, and Aunt Jerusha would give +them some milk. You'd better believe aunt opened her eyes, when she +saw me marching in as bold as brass, with two stylish young ladies; +while, the moment I met her sly look, all my customary confusion--over +which I had contrived to hold a tight rein--ran rampant and jerked at +my self-possession until I lost control of it! + +"These young ladies, Aunt Jerusha," I stammered, "would like a glass +of milk. They've got lost, and don't know where they are, and can't +find their way back, and I expect I'll have to show them the way." + +"They're very welcome," said aunt, who was kindness itself, and she +went into the milk-pantry and brought out two large goblets of +morning's milk, with the rising cream sticking around the inside. + +I started forward gallantly, took the server from aunt's hand, and +conveyed it, with almost the grace of a French waiter, across the +large kitchen to where the two beautiful beings were resting in the +chairs which I had set for them. Unfortunately, being blinded by my +bashfulness, I caught my toe in a small hole in aunt's rag carpet, the +result being that I very abruptly deposited both glasses of milk, +bottom up, in the lap of Blue-Eyes. A feeling of horror overpowered me +as I saw that exquisite toilet in ruins--those dainty ruffles, those +cunning bows the color of her eyes, submerged in the lacteal fluid. + +I think a ghastly pallor must have overspread my face as I stood +motionless, grasping the server in my clenched hands. + +What do you think Blue-Eyes said? _This_ is the way she "gave me +fits." Looking up prettily to my aunt, she says: + +"Oh, madam, I am _so_ sorry for your carpet." + +"Your dress!" exclaimed Aunt Jerusha. + +"Never mind _that_, madam. It can go to the laundry." + +"Well, I never!" continued aunt, flying about for a towel, and wiping +her off as well as she could; "but John Flutter is so careless. He's +_always_ blundering. He means well enough, but he's bashful. You'd +think a clerk in a dry-goods store would get over it some time now, +wouldn't you? Well, young ladies, I'll get some more milk for you; but +I won't trust it in _his_ hands." + +When Aunt Jerusha let the cat out of the bag about my bashfulness, +Blue-Eyes flashed, at me from under her long eyelashes a glance so +roguish, so perfectly infatuating, that my heart behaved like a +thermometer that is plunged first into a tea-kettle and then into +snow; it went up into my throat, and then down into my boots. I still +grasped the server and stood there like a revolving lantern--one +minute white, another red. Finally my heart settled into my boots. It +was evident that fate was against me. I was _doomed_ to go on leading +a blundering existence. My admiration for this lovely girl was already +a thousand times stronger than any feeling I had ever had for Belle +Marigold. Yet how ridiculous I must appear to her. How politely she +was laughing at me. + +The sense of this, and the certainty that I was born to blunder, came +home to me with crushing weight. I turned slowly to Aunt Jerusha, who +was bringing fresh milk, and said, with a simplicity to which pathos +must have given dignity: + +"Aunt, will you show them the way to Widow Cooper's? I am going to the +barn to hang myself," and I walked out. + +"Is he in earnest?" I heard Blue-Eyes inquire. + +"Wall, now, I shouldn't be surprised," avowed Aunt Jerusha. "He's been +powerful low-spirited lately. You see, ladies, he was born that +bashful that life is a burden to him." + +I walked on in the direction of the barn; I would not pause to listen +or to cast a backward glance. Doubtless, my relative told them of my +previous futile attempt to poison myself--perhaps became so interested +in relating anecdotes of her nephew's peculiar temperament, that she +forgot the present danger which threatened him. At least, it was some +time before she troubled herself to follow me to ascertain if my +threat meant anything serious. + +When she finally arrived at the large double door, standing wide open +for the entrance of the loaded wagons, she gave a sudden shriek. + +I was standing on the beam which supported the light flooring of the +hay-loft; beneath was the threshing-floor; above me the great rafters +of the barn, and around one of these I had fastened a rope, the other +terminus of which was knotted about my neck. + +I stood ready for the fatal leap. + +As she screamed, I slightly raised my hand: + +"Silence, Aunt Jerusha, and receive my parting instructions. Tell +Blue-Eyes that I love her madly, but not to blame herself for my +untimely end. The ruin of her dress was only the last drop in the +cup--the last straw on the camel's back. Farewell!" and as she threw +up her arms and shrieked to me to desist, I rolled up my eyes--and +sprang from the beam. + +For a moment I thought myself dead. The experience was different from +what I had anticipated. Instead of feeling choked, I had a pain in my +legs, and it seemed to me that I had been shut together like an +opera-glass. Still I knew that I must be dead, and I kept very quiet +until the sound of little screams and gurgles of--what?--_laughter_, +smote my ears! + +Then I opened my eyes and looked about. I was not dangling in the air +overhead, but standing on the threshing-floor, with a bit of broken +halter about my neck. The rope had played traitor and given way +without even chafing my throat. + +[Illustration: "I STOOD READY FOR THE FATAL LEAP."] + +I dare say the sight of me, standing there with my eyes closed and +looking fully convinced that I was dead, must have been vastly +amusing to the two young ladies, who had followed Aunt Jerusha to the +door. They laughed as if I had been the prince of clowns, and had just +performed a most funny trick in the ring. I began to feel as if I had, +too. + +Aunt rushed forward and gave me a shake. + +"Another blunder, John," she said; "it's plain as the nose on a man's +face that Providence never intended you to commit suicide." + +And then Blue-Eyes, repressing her mirth, came forward, half shy and +half coaxing, and said to me: + +"How my sister and I would feel if you had killed yourself on our +account! Come! do please show us the way to our boarding-house. Mamma +will be so anxious about us." + +Cunning witch! she knows, how to twist a man around her little finger. + +"Come," she continued, "let _me_ untie this ugly rope." + +And I did let her, and picked up my hat to walk with them to the Widow +Cooper's. + +They made themselves very agreeable on the way--so that I would think +no more of hanging myself, I suppose. + +Only one more little incident occurred on the road. We met a tramp. He +was a roughly-dressed fellow, with a straw hat such as farmers wear, +whose broad brim nearly hid his face. He sauntered up impudently, and, +before we could pass him, he chucked Blue-Eyes under the chin. In +less than half a second he was flying backward over the rail fence, +although he was a tall fellow, more than my weight. + +"Now," said I proudly to myself, "she will forget that unlucky circus +performance in the barn." + +Imagine my sensations when she turned on me with the fire flashing out +of those soft blue eyes. + +"What did you fling my brother over the fence for?" + +That was what she asked me. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +HE CATCHES A TROUT AND PRESENTS IT TO A LADY. + + +"Some achieve greatness; some have greatness thrust upon them." I +think I have achieved greatness. Of one thing I am convinced: that it +is only necessary to do some one thing _well_--as well or better than +any one else--in order to acquire distinction. The thing I do really +well--better than any living human being--is to blunder. I defy +competition. There are champion tight-rope dancers, billiard players, +opera singers, swindlers, base-ballists, candidates for the +Presidency. I am the champion blunderer. You remember the man who +asked of another, "Who is that coarse, homely creature across the +room?" and received for answer, "That creature is my wife!" Well, I +_ought_ to have been that man, although in that case I did not happen +to be. My compliments always turn out to be left-handed ones; all my +remarks, all my efforts to please are but so many never-ending +_faux-pas_. + +As a general seeks to retrieve one defeat by some act of unparalleled +bravery, so had I sought to wipe out from the memory of the lovely +pair whom I escorted, my shameful failure to hang myself, by gallantly +pitching over the fence the fellow who had made himself too familiar +with the fairer of the two; and, as a _matter of course_, he turned +out to be her favorite brother. + +He was a good-natured fellow, after all--a perfect gentleman; and when +I stammered out my excuses, saying that I had mistaken him for a +tramp, he laughed and shook hands with me, explaining that he was in +his fishing costume, and saying very handsomely that were his dear +sister ever in such danger of being insulted, he hoped some person as +plucky as I would be on hand to defend her. This was applying cold +cream to my smarting self-love. But it did not prevent me from +observing the sly glances exchanged between the girls, nor prevent my +hearing the little bursts of suppressed giggling which they pretended +were caused by the funny motions of the hay-cutter in a neighboring +field. So, as their brother could show them the way to Widow Cooper's, +I said good-morning rather abruptly. He called me back, however, and +asked if I would not like to join him on a fishing tramp in the +morning. I said "I would, and I knew all the best places." + +Then we shook hands again, while the young ladies smiled like angels; +but I had not more than turned a bend in the road, which hid me from +view, than I heard such shrieks and screams of laughter as turned my +two ears into boiled lobsters for the remainder of the day. + +But, spite of my burning ears, I could not get mad at those girls. +They had a right to laugh at me, for I had, as usual, made myself +ridiculous. I was head over ears in love with Blue-Eyes. The feeling I +had once cherished toward Belle Marigold, compared with my sudden +adoration of this glorious stranger, was as bean-soup to the condensed +extract of beef, as water to wine, as milk to cream, as mush to +mince-pie. + +I do not think I slept a wink that night. My room was suffocating, and +I took a pillow, and crawled out on the roof of the kitchen, just +under my window, and stretched myself out on the shingles, and winked +back at the stars which winked at me, and thought of the bright, +flashing eyes of the bewitching unknown. I resolved to seek her +acquaintance, through her brother, and never, never to blunder again, +but to be calm and cool like other young men--calm, cool, and +persistent. It might have been four o'clock in the morning that I came +to this determination, and so soothing was it, that I was able to take +a brief nap after it. + +I was awakened by young Knickerbocker, the lady's brother, tickling +the soles of my feet with a rake, and I started up with such violence +from a sound sleep, that I slipped on the inclined plane, rolled down +to the edge, and went over into a hogshead of rain-water just +underneath. + +"A capital way to take your morning bath," smiled Knickerbocker. +"Come, Mr. Flutter, get out of that, and find your rod and line, and +come along. I have a good breakfast in this basket, which we will eat +in some dewy nook of the woods, while we are waiting for a nibble. The +early bird catches the worm, you know." + +"I'll be with you in a moment," I answered with a blank grin, +determined to be cool and composed, though my sudden plunge had +somewhat dazed me; and scrambling out of the primitive cistern, I +regained the roof by means of a ladder standing against a cherry-tree +not far away. + +Consoling myself with the idea that this early adventure was an +_accident_ and not a _blunder_, I hastily dressed, and rejoined my new +friend, with rod and line, and a box of flies. + +We had a delightful morning. Knickerbocker was affable. Alone in the +solitudes of nature with one of my own sex, I was tolerably at home, +and flattered myself that I appeared to considerable advantage, +especially as I really was a skillful angler, and landed two trout to +my friend's landing one. By ten o'clock we each had a lovely string of +the speckled beauties, and decided to go home for the day, returning +on the morrow. + +The path we took out of the woods came into the highway just in front +of the Widow Cooper's. I knew it, but I felt quite cool, and +determined to make some excuse to catch another glimpse of my +companion's sister. I had one splendid fish among my treasures, +weighing over two pounds, while none of his weighed over a pound. I +would present that trout to Flora Knickerbocker! I would ask her to +have the cook prepare it for her special delectation. + +We emerged upon the lawn and sauntered up to the front of the house, +where some half-dozen ladies were sitting on the long porch, doing +worsted-work and reading novels. I saw my charmer among them, and, as +she looked up from the book she was reading, and shot at me a +mischievous glance from those thrilling eyes, I felt my coolness +melting at the most alarming rate. + +How I envied the easy, careless grace with which my friend sauntered +up to the group! Why should I not be as graceful, as easy? I would +make a desperate effort to "assume a virtue if I had it not." I, too, +sauntered elegantly, lifted my hat killingly, and approached my +charmer just as if I didn't realize that I was turning all the colors +of the chameleon. + +"Miss Knickerbocker," I began, "will you deign to accept the champion +trout of the season?" + +The string of glistening fish hung from the fine patent rod which I +carried over my shoulder. I never could undo the tangle of how it all +came about; but, in my embarrassment, I must have handled things not +quite so gracefully as I intended--the line had become unwound, and +the hook dangling at the end of it as I attempted to lower the rod +caught in my coat collar behind, and the more I tugged the more it +would not come out. I flushed and jerked, and tried to see the back of +my head, while the ladies smiled encouragingly, rendering me more and +more desperate, until I gave a fearful twitch, and the barb came +flying out and across the porch, striking a prim maiden lady on the +head. + +More and more confused, I gave a sudden pull to relieve the lady, and +succeeded in getting a very queer bite indeed. At first I thought, in +my horror, that I had drawn the whole top of the unfortunate +spinster's head off; but a second frightened look showed me that it +was only her scalpette, or false front, or whatever the dear creatures +call a half-wig, all frizzes and crimps. Almost faint with dismay at +the glare of anger in the lady's eyes, and the view of the bald white +spot on top of her head, I hurriedly drew the thing toward me to +remove it from the hook, when a confounded little Spitz, seeing the +spot, and thinking, doubtless, I was playing with him, made a dash at +the wig, and in less time than it takes to tell it, that thing of +beauty was a wreck forever. Its unfortunate owner, with a look which +nearly annihilated me, fled up-stairs to her apartment. + +Nor was my discomfiture then ended. That Spitz--that precious +Spitz--belonged to Blue-Eyes; I tried to coax him to relinquish his +game; he would not be persuaded, and, in the ardor of his pursuit, he +swallowed the cruel hook. I had wanted to present her with a trout, +and had only succeeded in hooking her favorite pet--"her darling, her +dear, dear little Spitzy-witzy," as she called him, in tones of +mingled endearment and anguish, as she flew to rescue him from his +cruel fate. + +"Oh, what can I do?" she sobbed, looking up at her brother. + +"Cut him open and remove the hook," he answered gravely; "there is no +other possible way of relieving the poor fellow." + +"I wish _I_ had swallowed it," I murmured, bitterly, throwing my fish +into the grass of the lawn, and pulling at my mustache desperately in +my despair of ever doing as other people do. + +"I really wish you had," snapped Blue-Eyes, satirically, and with that +I walked off and left them to take Spitz from around that fish-hook +the best way they could. + +I don't imagine I left many female friends on that porch, nor did I +see any of the Widow Cooper's boarders again for a week, when we were +brought together, under rather peculiar circumstances at a circus. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +HE GOES TO THE CIRCUS. + + +In vain I struggled to regain the peace of mind I was beginning to +enjoy before I met Flora Knickerbocker. I could not forget her; I +dared not approach her--for I had heard a rumor that her dog had died +a _barb_-arous death, and his young mistress was inconsolable. I spent +the long, lazy summer days in dreaming of her, and wishing that +bashfulness were a curable disease. + +One morning, very early, when + + "The window slowly grew a glimmering square," + +I heard an unwonted commotion on our quiet road, and slipping out of +bed, I went to the window to see "what was up." It was a circus +company, with a menagerie attachment, winding through the dim dawn, +elephant and all. + +For a moment my heart beat, as in its childish days, at sight of the +unique cavalcade; but it soon grew sad, and ached worse than ever at +the reflection that Miss Flora was a city girl, and would despise a +circus. However, some time during the day I heard from aunt that +_all_ of Widow Cooper's boarders had made up their minds to attend, +that evening, the performance, which was to take place in a small town +two miles from us. These fine city folks doubtless thought it would be +an innocent "lark" to go to the circus in this obscure country +village. + +I had outgrown my childish taste for the hyena, the gnu, and the +anaconda; I was indifferent to the india-rubber man; nor did I care +much for the beautiful bare-back rider who was to flash through the +hoops like a meteor through the orbits of the planets; but I did long +to steal one more look, unseen, unsuspected, at the sweet face which +was lovelier to me, even in its anger, than any other. I had been the +means of Spitz's death--very well, I could hide myself in some obscure +corner of the amphitheater, and gaze at her mournfully from the +distance. While she gazed at the ring, I would gaze at _her_. + +So I went to the circus, along with a good many other people. _She_ +came early with the Cooper party, and seemed interested and amused by +the rough-board seats, and the novelty of the scene, and the audience. +I had not yet chosen my perch on the boards, for I wanted to get as +near to her as I could without her observing me. + +The sight of her--resolved as I was to be cool, calm, and +collected--so affected my eyesight that I walked right into the rope +stretched around the ring, and fell over into the tan-bark. + +All the boys hooted and laughed, and made personal remarks, wanting to +know if I were the clown, and similar questions, which I heard with +silent dignity. I hoped and prayed that _she_ had not recognized the +tumbler who had begun the performances as an amateur, and without any +salary from Barnum. They were on the opposite side of the circle, and +perhaps I escaped their remark. + +Contriving to mingle myself with some newcomers, I made my way more +cautiously to within a few feet of my charmer. I did not intend she +should see me, and was surprised when she whispered to her brother, +upon which he immediately looked in my direction and beckoned me to a +seat in their party. + +Oh, bliss! In another moment I was at her feet--sitting on the plank +next lower than that which held her lovely form, with the dainty +billows of lace and organdie rippling around me, and her little toes +pressed into the small of my back. Was this a common, vulgar +circus--with a menagerie attachment? To me it was the seventh heaven. +The clown leaped lightly into the ring, cracked his whip, and began +his witticisms. I heard him as one hears the murmur of the sea in his +dreams. The beautiful bare-back rider galloped, ran, jumped, smiled, +kissed her hand, and trotted off the stage with Master Clown at her +heels and the whole scene was to me only as a scene in a painting on +which my eye casually fell. The only living, breathing fact of which +I was really conscious was that those blue eyes were shining like +stars just over my head. + +In the pauses of the drama, the lemonade man went by. What was he to +me, or I to him? Noisy boys or verdant farming youths might patronize +him at their will--I slaked my thirst with deep draughts of a nectar +no lemonade-fellow could dispense at two cents a glass. While the +cannon-ball man was catching a ten-pound ball between his teeth, and +the boneless boy was tying himself in a double bow-knot, I was +pleasing myself with images of the darling little Spitz I would seek, +purchase, and present to Miss Flora in place of the one who had +thoughtlessly swallowed my fish-hook. + +"Were you ever in love, young man?" suddenly asked the clown, after +the india-rubber athlete had got tired of turning himself, like a +dozen flap-jacks on a hot griddle. + +The question startled me. I looked up. It seemed to me, as he eyed me, +that he had addressed it particularly to me. I blushed. Some strange +country girls on either side of me began to titter. I blushed more +decidedly. The motley chap in the ring must have seen it. He grinned +from ear to ear, walked up to the very edge of the rope, and repeated: + +"Were you ever in love, young man?" + +There were young men all round me; he might have looked at +Knickerbocker, or any one of a dozen others; if I had not been +supersensitive I never should have imagined that he meant to be +personal. + +If I had not retained the self-possession of an egotist, I should have +reflected that it was not the thing to notice the vulgar wit of a +circus-clown. Unfortunately self-possession is the last possession of +a bashful man. I half rose from my seat, demanding fiercely: + +"Are you speaking to me, sir?" + +"If the shoe fits, you can wear it," was the grinning answer; and then +there was a shout from the whole audience--hooting, laughter, clapping +of hands--and I felt that I had made a Dundreary of myself. + +"We beg parding," went on the rascal, stepping back and bowing. "We +had no intentions of being personal--meant no young gentleman in +partikilar. We _always_ make a point of asking a few questions in +general. Here comes mademoiselle, the celebrated tight-rope dancer," +etc., etc., and the thousand eyes which had been glued to my scarlet +face were diverted to a new attraction. + +"I'll thrash that scoundrel within an inch of his life," I said to +young Knickerbocker, who was sitting behind me beside his sister. + +"You will have to whip the whole circus, then; these fellows all stand +by each other. Your policy is to let the matter drop." + +"I'll whip the whole circus, then," I retorted, savagely. + +"Please don't," said a soft voice, and I wilted under it. + +"It maddens me to be always made ridiculous before _you_," I +whispered. "I'm a dreadfully unfortunate man, Miss Knick----" + +"_Fire_!" + +A frightful cry in such a place as that! Something flashed up +brightly--I saw flames about something in the ring--the crowd arose +from the benches--women screamed--men yelled. + +"Sit still, Flora!" I heard young Knickerbocker say, sternly. + +I thought of a million things in the thousandth part of a second--of +the flaming canvas, the deadly crush, the wild beasts, terrified and +breaking from their cages. It was folly, it was madness, to linger a +moment in hopes of the fire being subdued. I looked toward the +entrance--it was not far from us; a few people were going quickly out. +I was stronger than her brother; I could fight my way through any +crowd with that slight form held in one arm. + +"_Fire_!" + +I dallied with fate no longer. Grasping Flora by her slender waist, I +dragged her from her seat, and hurried her along through the +thickening throng. When she could no longer keep her feet. I supported +her entirely, elbowing, pushing, struggling with the maddest of them. +I reached the narrow exit--I fought my way through like a tiger. +Bleeding, exhausted, my hat gone, my coat torn from my back, I at last +emerged under the calm moonlight with my darling held to my panting +heart. Bearing her apart from the jostling crowd, I looked backward, +expecting to see the devouring flames stream high from the combustible +roof. As yet they had not broken through. I set my treasure gently +down on her little feet. Her bonnet was gone, her wealth of golden +hair hung disheveled about her pale face. + +"Are we safe?" she murmured. + +"Yes, thank Heaven, your precious life is saved!" + +"Oh! where is my brother?" + +"Here!" said a cold voice behind us, and young Knickerbocker coolly +took his sister on his own arm. "What in the name of folly did you +drag her off in that style for? A pretty-looking girl you are, Flora, +I must say!" + +"But the fire!" I gasped. + +"Was all out in less than a minute. A lamp exploded, but fortunately +set fire to nothing else. I never saw anything more utterly ridiculous +than you dragging my sister off through that crowd, and me sitting +still and laughing at you. I don't know whether to look on you as a +hero or a fool, Mr. Flutter." + +"Look on me as a blunderer," I said meekly. + +But the revulsion of feeling was too great; I felt myself turning sick +and faint, and when I knew anything again I was home in bed. And now I +owe Miss Flora a new bonnet as well as a little dog. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +A LEAP FOR LIFE. + + +It is impossible to make an ordinary person understand the chaos of +mingled feelings with which I heard, two days after the circus +performance in which I had so large a share, that Blue-Eyes and +Company had departed for a tour of the watering-places--feelings of +anguish and relief mixed in about equal proportions. I madly loved +her, but I had known from the first that my love was hopeless, and the +thought of meeting her, after having made myself so ridiculous, was +torture. Therefore I felt relief that I was no longer in danger of +encountering the mocking laughter of those blue eyes, but I lost my +appetite. I moped, pined, grew pale, freckled, and listless. + +"What's the use of wasting harvest apples making dumplings, when you +don't eat none, John?" asked my aunt, one day at dinner, after the +hands had left the table. + +"Aunt," replied I, solemnly, "don't mock me with apple dumplings; they +may be light, but my heart is heavy." + +"La, John, try a little east on your heart," said she, laughing--by +"east" she meant yeast, I suppose. + +"No, aunt, not 'east,' but west. My mind is made up. I'm going out to +Colorado to fight the Indians." + +She let the two-tined steel fork drop out of her hand. + +"What will your ma say to that?" she gasped. + +"I tell you I am going," was my firm reply, and I went. + +Yes, I had long sighed to be a Juan Fernandez, or a Mount Washington +weatherologist, or something lonesome and sad, as my readers know. +Fighting Indians would be a terrible risky business; but compared to +facing the "girls of the period" it would be the merest play. I was +weary of a life that was all mistakes. "Better throw it away," I +thought, bitterly, "and give my scalp to dangle at a redskin's belt, +than make another one of my characteristic and preposterous blunders." + +I had heard that Buffalo Bill was about to start for the Rocky +Mountains, and I wrote to New York asking permission to join him. He +answered that I could, if I was prepared to pay my own way. I +immediately bade my relatives farewell, went home, borrowed two +hundred dollars of father, told mother she was the only woman I wasn't +afraid of, kissed her good-bye, and met Buffalo Bill at the next large +town by appointment, he being already on his way West. I came home +_after dark_, and left again _before daylight_, and that was the last +I saw of my native village for some time. + +"You don't let on yer much of a fighter?" asked the great scout, as he +saw me hunt all over six pockets and blush like a girl when the +conductor came for our tickets, and finally hand him a postal-card +instead of the bit of pasteboard he was impatiently waiting to punch. + +"Oh, I guess I'll fight like a rat when it comes to that," I answered. +"I'm brave as a lion--only I'm bashful." + +"Great tomahawks! is that yer disease?" groaned Bill. + +"Yes, that's my trouble," I said, quite confidentially, for somehow I +seemed to get on with the brave hunter more easily than with the +starched minions of society. "I'm bashful, and I'm tired of civilized +life. I'm always putting my foot in it when I'm trying the hardest to +keep it out. Besides, I'm in love, and the girl I want don't want me. +It's either deliberate suicide or death on the plains with me." + +"Precisely. I understand. _I've been thar!_" said Buffalo Bill; and we +got along well together from the first. + +He encouraged the idea that in my present state of mind I would make a +magnificent addition to his chosen band; but I have since had some +reason to believe that he was leading me on for the sole purpose of +making a scarecrow of me--setting me up in some spot frequented by +the redskins, to become their target, while he and his comrades +scooped down from some ambush and wiped out a score or two of them +after I had perished at my post. I _suspect_ this was his plan. He +probably considered that so stupid a blunderer as I deserved no better +fate than to be used as a decoy. I think so myself. I have nothing +like the extravagant opinion of my own merits that I had when I first +launched out into the sea of human conflict. + +At all events, Buffalo Bill was very kind to me all the way out to the +plains; he protected me as if I had been a timid young lady--took +charge of my tickets, escorted me to and fro from the station +eating-houses, almost cut up my food and eating it for me; and if a +woman did but glance in my direction, he scowled ferociously. Under +such patronage I got through without any accident. + +It was the last day of our ride by rail. In the car which we helped to +occupy there was not a single female, and I was happy. A sense of +repose--of safety--stole over me, which even the knowledge that on the +morrow we were to take the war-path could not overcome. + +"Oh," sighed I, "no women! This _is_ bliss!" + +In about five minutes after I had made this remark the train drew up +at one of those little stations that mark off the road, and the scout +got off a minute to see a man. Fatal minute! In that brief sixty +seconds of time a female made her appearance in the car door, looked +all along the line, and, either because the seat beside me was the +only vacant one, or because she liked my looks, she came, and, without +so much as "by your leave," plumped down by me. + +"This seat is engaged," I mildly remonstrated, growing as usual very +red. + +She looked around at me, saw me blush, and began to titter. + +"No, young man," said she, "I ain't engaged, but I told ma I bet I +would be before I got to Californy." + +By this time my protector had returned; but, seeing a woman, and a +young woman at that, in his seat, he coolly ignored my imploring looks +and passed out into the next car. + +"I'm going on the platform to smoke," he whispered. + +"Be _you_ engaged?" continued my new companion. + +"No, miss," I stammered. + +"Ain't that lucky?" she giggled. "Who knows but what we may make up +our minds to hitch horses afore we get to Californy!" and she eyed me +all over without a bit of bashfulness, and seemed to admire me. My +goodness! this was worse than Alvira Slimmens! + +"But I'm only going a few hours farther, and I'm not a marrying man, +and I'm bound for the Indian country," I murmured. + +She remained silent a few moments, and I stole a side-glance at her. +She was a sharp-looking girl; her hair was cut short, and in the +morocco belt about her waist I saw the glitter of a small revolver. +Before I had finished these observations she turned suddenly toward +me, and her black eyes rested fully on me as she asked: + +"Stranger, do you believe in love at first sight?" + +"No--no, indeed, miss; not for worlds!" I murmured, startled. + +"Well, I _do_," said she; "and mebbe you will, yet." + +"I--I don't believe in anything of the kind," I reiterated, getting as +far as possible into my corner of the seat. + +"La! you needn't be bashful," she went on, laughing; "I ain't a-going +to scourge you. Thar's room enough for both of us." + +She subsided again, and again broke out: + +"Bound for the Injun country, are you? So'm I. Whar do you get off?" + +"I thought you said you were going to California?" I remarked, more +and more alarmed. + +Then that girl with the revolver winked at me slyly. + +"I _am_ going there--in the course of time; but I'm going by easy +stages. I ain't in no hurry. I told ma I'd be married by the time I +got there, and I mean to keep my word I may be six months going, yer +see." + +Another silence, during which I mutely wondered how long it would take +Buffalo Bill to smoke his pipe. + +"Don't believe in love at first sight! Sho!" resumed my companion. +"You ain't got much spunk, you ain't! Why, last week a girl and a +fellow got acquainted in this very car--this very seat, for all I +know--and afore they reached Lone Tree Station they was _engaged_. +There happened to be a clergyman going out to San Francisco on the +train, and he married 'em afore sunset, he did. When I heerd of that, +I said to myself, 'Sally Spitfire, why don't _you_ fix up and travel, +too? Who knows what may happen?'" + +Unmerciful fates! had I fled from civilization only to fall a prey to +a female like this? It looked like it. There wasn't much fooling about +this damsel's love-making. Cold chills ran down my spine. My eye +avoided hers; I bit my nails and looked out of the window. + +"Ain't much of a talker, are ye?" she ran on. "That just suits me. My +tongue is long enough for both of us. I always told ma I wouldn't +marry a great talker--there'd be one too many in the house." + +I groaned in anguish of spirit; I longed to see a thousand wild and +painted warriors swoop down upon the train. I thought of our peaceful +dry-goods store at home, and I would gladly have sat down in another +butter-tub could I have been there. I even thought of earthquakes +with a sudden longing; but we were not near enough the Western shore +to hope for anything so good as an earthquake. + +"I do wonder if thar's a clergyman on _this_ train," remarked the +young lady, reflectively. + +"Supposing there is," I burst out, in desperation, "does any one need +his services? Is anybody going to die?" + +"Not as I know of," was the meaning reply, while Miss Spitfire looked +at me firmly, placing her hand on her revolver as she spoke; "not if +people behave as they ought--like gentlemen--and don't go trifling +with an unprotected girl's affections in a railroad car." + +"Who--who--who's been doing so?" I stammered. + +"_You_ have, and I hold you accountable. You've got to marry me. I've +made up my mind. And when Sally Spitfire makes up her mind, she means +it. To refuse my hand is to insult me, and no man shall insult me with +safety. No, sir! not so long as I carry a Colt's revolver. I took a +fancy to you, young man, the minute my eyes rested on you. I froze to +you to oncst. I calculate to marry you right off. Will you inquire +around for a clergyman? or shall I do it myself?" + +"I will go," I said, quickly. + +"P'raps I'd better go 'long," she said, suspiciously, and as I arose +she followed suit, and we walked down the car together, she twice +asking in a loud voice if there was a minister on board. + +"One in the next car," at last spoke a fellow, looking at us with a +broad grin. + +We stepped out on the platform to enter the next car--now was my +time--now or never! I looked at the ground--it was tolerably level and +covered with grass; the train was running at moderate speed; there was +but one way to escape my tormentor. Making my calculations as +accurately as possible, I suddenly leaped from the steps of the car; +my head and feet seemed driven into one another; I rolled over and +over--thought I was dead, was surprised to find I was not dead, picked +myself up, shook myself. + +"Ha! ha! ha!" I laughed hysterically; "I'm out of that scrape, +anyway!" + +"Oh, are you?" said a voice behind me. + +I whirled about. As true as I'm writing this, there stood that girl! +Her hat was knocked off, her nose was bleeding, but she was smiling +right in my face. + +I cast a look of anguish at the retreating train. No one had noticed +our mad leap; and the cars were gliding smoothly away--away--leaving +me alone on the wide plains with that determined female! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +ONE OF THE FAIR SEX COMES TO HIS RESCUE. + + +Before I comprehended that the indomitable female stood beside me, the +train was puffing pitilessly away. + +"Oh, stop! stop! stop! stop!" I called and yelled in an agony of +apprehension; but I might as well have appealed to the wind that went +whistling by. + +"Perhaps the locomotive will hear you, and down brakes of its own +accord," said Miss Spitfire, scornfully. "I told ma I was gwine to get +a husband 'fore I got to Californy, an' I _have_ got one. You jest set +down on that bowlder, an' don't you try to make a move till the train +from 'Frisco comes along. Then you git aboard along with me, an' if +there ain't no minister to be found in them cars, I'll haul you off at +Columbus, where there's two to my certain knowledge." + +She had her revolver in her hand, directed _point blank_ at my +quivering, quaking heart. Though I am bashful, I am no coward, and I +thought for full two minutes that I'd let her fire away, if such was +her intention. + +"Better be dead than live in a land so full of women that I can never +hope for any comfort!" I thought, bitterly; and so confronted the +enemy in the growing calmness of despair. + +"Ain't you a-going fur to set down on that bowlder?" + +"No, madam, I am _not_! I would rather be shot than married, at any +time. Why! I was going to fight the Indians with Buffalo Bill, on +purpose to get rid of the girls." + +Sally looked at me curiously; her outstretched arm settled a little +until the revolver pointed at my knee instead of my heart. + +"P'raps you've been disappointed in love?" she queried. + +"Not that entirely," I answered, honestly. + +"P'raps you've run away from a breach of promise?" + +"Oh, no! no, indeed!" + +"What on airth do you want to get rid o' the girls fur, then?" + +"Miss Spitfire," said I, scraping the gravel with the toe of my boot, +"I'm afraid of them. I'm bashful." + +"BASHFUL!" Miss Spitfire cried, and then she began to laugh. + +She laughed and laughed until I believed and hoped she would laugh +herself into pieces. The idea struck this creature in so ludicrous a +light that she nearly went into convulsions. _She_, alas, had never +been troubled by such a weakness. I watched my opportunity, when she +was doubled up with mirth, to snatch the revolver from her hand. + +The tables were now turned, but not for long. She sprang at me like a +wildcat; I defended myself as well as I could without really hurting +her, maintaining my hold on the revolver, but not attempting to use it +on my scratching, clawing antagonist. The station-master came out of +Lone Tree station, a mile away, and walked up the track to see what +was going on. Of course he had no notion of what it was, but it amused +him to see the fight, and he kept cheering and urging on Miss Sally, +probably with the idea that she was my wife and we were indulging in a +domestic squabble. At the same time it chanced that a boat load of six +or eight of the roughest fellows it had ever been my lot to meet, and +all with their belts stuck full of knives and revolvers, came rowing +across the river, not far away, and landed just in time to "see the +fun." When Miss Spitfire saw these ruffians she ceased clawing and +biting me, and appealed to them. + +I was dumbfounded by the falsehood ready on her lips. + +"Will you, _gentlemen_," said she, "stand by and see a young lady +deserted by this sneak?" + +"What's up?" asked a brawny fellow, seven feet high, glaring at me as +if he thought I had committed seventeen murders. + +"I'll tell you," responded Spitfire, panting for breath. "We was +engaged to be married, we was, all fair an' square. He pretended to +be goin' through the train to look fur a minister fur to tie the knot, +an' just sneaked off the train, when it stopped yere; but I see him in +time, an' I jumped off, too, an' I nabbed him." + +"Shall we hang the little skunk up to yonder tree? or shall we set him +up fur a target an' practice firing at a mark fur about five minutes? +Will do whatever you say, young lady. We're a rough set; but we don't +lay out to see no wimmen treated scurvy." + +I'm no coward, as I said, but I dare say my face was not very smiling +as I met the flashing eyes and saw the scowling brows of those giant +ruffians, whose hands were already drawing the bowie-knives and +pistols from their belts. But I steadied my voice and spoke up: + +"Boys," said I, very friendly, "what's the use of a pair hitching +together who do not like each other, and who will always be uneasy in +harness? If I married her, she would be sorry. Come, let us go up to +the station and have something to drink. Choose your own refreshments, +and don't be backward." + +There was a good deal of growling and muttering; but the temptation +was irresistible. The result was that in half an hour not a drop of +liquor remained to the poor fellow who kept the station--that I paid +up the score "like a man," as my drunken companions assured me, who +now clapped me familiarly on the shoulder, and called me "Little +Grit," as a pet name--that Miss Spitfire, minus her revolver, sat +biting her nails about two rods away--and that she waited anxiously +for the expected arrival of the 'Frisco train, bound eastward. + +"Come, now, Little Grit," said the leader of the band, when the whisky +had all disappeared, "you was gwine with Buffalo Bill; better come +along with me--I'm a better fellow, an' hev killed more Injuns than +ever Bill did. We're arter them pesky redskins now. A lot of 'em +crossed the stream a couple o' nights ago, and stole our best horses. +We're bound to hev 'em back. Some o' them red thieves will miss their +skalps afore to-morrow night. A feller as kin fight a woman is jist +the chap for us. You come along; we'll show you how to tree your first +Injun." + +The long and the short of it was I had to go. I did not want to. I +thought of my mother, of Belle, of Blue-Eyes, and I hung back. But I +was taken along. These giants, with their bristling belts, did not +understand a person who said "no" to them. And as the secondary effect +of the liquor was to make them quarrelsome, I had to pretend that I +liked the expedition. + +Not to weary the reader, we tracked the marauders, and came across +them at earliest dawn the following morning, cooking their dog-stew +under the shelter of a high bluff, with the stolen horses picketed +near, in a cluster of young cottonwoods. + +I have no talent for depicting skirmishes with the redskins; I leave +all that to Buffalo Bill. I will here simply explain that the Indians +were surprised, but savage; that the whites were resolved to get back +their horses, and that they did get them, and rode off victorious, +leaving six dead and nine wounded red warriors on the battle-ground, +with only one mishap to their own numbers. + +The mishap was a trifling one to the border ruffians. It was not so +trifling to me. + +It consisted of their leaving me a prisoner in the hands of the +Indians. + +I was bound to a tree, while the wretches jabbered around me, as to +what they should do for me. Then, while I was reflecting whether I +would not prefer marriage with Miss Spitfire to this horrible +predicament, they drove a stake into the ground, untied me, led me to +the stake, re-tied me to that, and piled branches of dry cottonwood +about me up to my neck. + +Then one of them ran, howling, to bring a brand from the fire under +the upset breakfast pot. + +I raised my eyes to the bright sun, which had risen over the plain, +and was smiling at my despair. The hideous wretch came running with +the fire-brand. The braves leaped, danced, and whooped. + +I closed my eyes. Then a sharp, shrill yell pierced the air, and in +another moment something touched my neck. It was not the scorching +flames I dreaded. I opened my eyes. A hideous face, copper-colored, +distorted by a loving grin, was close to mine; a pair of arms were +about my neck--a pair of woman's arms! They were those of a ferocious +and ugly squaw, old enough to be my mother. The warrior with the +fire-brand was replacing it, with a disappointed expression, under the +stewed dog. _I was saved!_ + +All in a flash I comprehended the truth. Here was I, John Flutter, +enacting the historical part of the John Smith, of Virginia, who was +rescued by the lovely Pocahontas. + +This hideous creature smirking in my face was my Pocahontas. It was +not leap-year, but she had chosen me for her brave. The charms of +civilized life could no longer trouble me. She would lovingly paint my +face, hang the wampum about my waist, and lead me to her wigwam in the +wilderness, where she would faithfully grind my corn and fricassee my +puppy. It was for _this_ I had escaped Sally Spitfire--for _this_ that +my unhappy bashfulness had driven me far from home and friends. + +She unfastened the rope from the stake, and led me proudly away. My +very soul blushed with shame. Oh, fatal, fatal blunder! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +HIS DIFFIDENCE BRINGS ABOUT AN ACCIDENT. + + +That was a long day for me. I could not eat the dog-bone which my +Pocahontas handed me, having drawn it from the kettle with her own +sweet fingers. We traveled all day; having lost their stolen horses as +well as their own ponies, the savages had to foot it back to their +tribe. I could see that they got as far away from the railroad and +from traces of white men as possible. + +It began to grow dark, and we were still plodding along. I was +foot-sore, discouraged, and woe-begone. All the former trials of my +life, which had seemed at the time so hard to bear, now appeared like +the merest trifles. + +Ah, if I were only home again! How gladly would I sit down in +butter-tubs, and spill hot tea into my lap! How joyfully would I walk +up the church aisles, with my ears burning, and sit down on my new +beaver in father's pew of a Sunday. How sweet would be the suppressed +giggle of the saucy girls behind me! How easily, how almost +audaciously, would I ask Miss Miller if I might see her home! What an +active part I would take in debating societies! Vain dream! My +hideous Pocahontas marched stolidly on, dragging me like a frightened +calf, at the rope's end. My throat was dry as ashes. I guess the +redskins suffered for want of water, too. We came to a little brackish +stream after sunset, and here they camped. They had taken from me Miss +Spitfire's revolver, or I should have shot myself. + +The squaws made some suppawn in a big kettle, and my squaw brought me +some in a dirty wooden bowl. I was too homesick to eat, and this +troubled her. She tried to coax me, with atrocious grins and nods, to +eat the smoking suppawn. I couldn't, and she looked unhappy. + +Then something happened--something hit the bowl and sent the hot mush +flying into my beauty's face, and spattering over me. At the same +instant about twenty Indians were hit, also, and went tumbling over, +with their mouths full of supper. There were yells, and jumps, and a +general row. I jerked away from Pocahontas and ran as fast as my tired +legs would carry me. I went toward the attacking party. It might be of +Indians too, but I didn't care. I was afraid of Pocahontas--more +afraid of her than of any braves in the world. But these invaders +proved to be white men; a large party of miners going toward Pike's +Peak, by wagon instead of by the new railroad. + +I threw myself on their protection. They had routed out the savages, +and now took possession of their camping-ground. I passed a peaceful +night; except that my dreams were disturbed by visions of Pocahontas. +In the morning my new friends proposed that I should join their party, +and try my luck in the mining regions; they were positive that each +would find more gold than he knew what to do with. + +"Then you can go home and marry some pretty girl, my boy," said one +friendly fellow, slapping me on the shoulder. + +"Never," I murmured. "I have no object in life, save one." + +"And what is that, my young friend?" + +"To go where there never has been nor never will be a woman." + +"Good! the mines will be just the place then. None of the fair sex +there, my boy. You can enjoy the privilege of doing up your own linen +to the fullest extent. You won't have anybody to iron your collars +there, you bet." + +"Lead on--I follow!" I cried, almost like an actor on the stage. + +I felt exhilarated--a wild, joyous sense of freedom. My two recent +narrow escapes added to the pleasure with which I viewed my present +prospects. This was better than sailing for some Juan Fernandez, or +being clerk of the weather on Mount Washington. Ho! for Pike's Peak. +In those high solitudes, while heaping up the yellow gold which should +purchase all the luxuries of life for the woman whom _sometime_ I +should choose, I could, at the same time, be gradually overcoming my +one weakness. When I did see fit to return to my native village, no +man should be so calm, so cool, so self-possessed as John Flutter, +Jr., mine-owner, late of the Rocky Mountains. I felt very bold over +the prospect. I was not a bit bashful just then. I joined the +adventurers, paying them in money for my seat in their wagons, and my +place at their camp-table. In due time we reached the scene of action. +I would not go into any of the canvas villages which had sprung up +like mushrooms. There might be a woman in some one of these places. I +went directly into the hills, where I bought out a sick man's claim, +and went to work. I blistered my white hands, but I didn't mind that +much--there were no blue eyes to notice the disfigurement. + +I had been at work six days. I was a good young man, and I would not +dig on Sunday, as some of the fellows did. I sat in the door of my +little hut, and read an old newspaper, and thought of those far-away +days when I used to be afraid of the girls. How glad I felt that I was +outgrowing that folly. A shadow fell across my paper, and I glanced +up. Thunder out of a clear sky could not so have astonished me. There +stood a young lady, smiling at me! None of those rough Western pioneer +girls, either, but a pale, delicate, beautiful young lady, about +eighteen, with cheeks like wild roses, so faintly, softly flushed +with the fatigue of climbing, and great starry hazel eyes, and dressed +in a fashionable traveling suit, made up in the latest style. + +"Pardon me, sir, for startling you so," she said, pleasantly. "Can you +give me a drink of water? I have been climbing until I am thirsty. +Papa is not far behind, around the rock there. I out-climbed him, you +see--as I told him I could!" and she laughed like an angel. + +Yes! it was splendid to find how I had improved! I jumped to my feet +and made a low bow. I wasn't red in the face--I wasn't confused--I +didn't stammer; I felt as cool as I do this moment, as I answered her +courteously: + +"Cer-cer-certainly, madam--miss, I mean--you shall have a spring fresh +from me--a drink, I mean--we've a nice, cold spring in the rocks just +behind the cabin; I'll get you one in a second." + +"No such _great_ hurry, sir"--another smile. + +I dashed inside and brought a tin cup--my only goblet--hurried to the +spring, and brought her the sparkling draught, saying, as I handed it +to her: + +"You must excuse the din tipper, miss." + +She took it politely! and began to quaff, but from some reason she +choked and choked, and finally shook so, that she spilled the water +all over the front breadth of her gray-check silk. She was laughing at +my "din tipper," just as if the calmest people did not sometimes get +the first letters of their words mixed up. + +While she giggled and pretended to cough the old gentleman came in +sight, puffing and blowing like a porpoise, and looking very warm. He +told me he was "doing the mountains" for his daughter's health, and +that they were going on to California to spend the winter; ending by +stating that he was thirsty too, and so fatigued with his climb that +he would be obliged to me if I would add a stick in his, if I had it. +Now I kept a little whisky for medicine, and I was only too anxious to +oblige the girl's father, so I darted into the cabin again and brought +out one of the two bottles which I owned--two bottles, just alike, one +containing whisky, the other kerosene. In my confusion I--well, I was +very hospitable, and I added as much kerosene as there was water; and +when he had taken three large swallows, he began to spit and splutter; +then to groan; then to double up on the hard rock in awful +convulsions. I smelled the kerosene, and I felt that I had murdered +him. It had come to this at last! My bashfulness was to do worse than +urge me to suicide--it was to be the means of my causing the death of +an estimable old gentleman--her father! She began to cry and wring her +hands. As yet she did not suspect me! She supposed her father had +fallen in a fit of apoplexy. + +"If he dies, I will allow her always to think so," I resolved. + +My eyes stuck out of my head with terror at what I had done. I was +rooted to the ground. But only for a moment. Remorse, for once, made +me self-possessed. I remembered that I had salt in the cabin. I got +some, mixed it with water, and poured it down his throat. It had the +desired effect, soon relieving him of the poisonous dose he had +swallowed. + +"Ah! you have saved my papa's life!" cried the young lady, pressing my +trembling hand. + +"Saved it!" growled old Cresus, as he sat up and glared about. "Let +him alone, Imogen! He tried to poison and murder me, so as to rob me +after I was dead, and keep you prisoner, my pet. The scoundrel!" + +"It was all a mistake--a wretched mistake!" I murmured. + +He wouldn't believe me; but he was too ill to get up, as he wanted. I +tried to make him more comfortable by assisting him to a seat on my +keg of blasting powder. + +As he began to revive a little, he drew a cigar from his pocket, and +asked me if I had a match. I had none; but there was a small fire +under my frying-pan, and I brought him a coal on a chip. Miss Imogen, +when she saw the coal on the chip, began to laugh again. That +embarrassed me. My nerves were already unstrung, and my trembling +fingers unfortunately spilled the burning ember just as the old +gentleman was about to stoop over it with his cigar. It fell between +his knees, onto the head of the keg, rolled over, and dropped plumb +through the bung-hole onto the giant-powder inside. + +This cured me of my bashfulness for some time, as it was over a week +before I came to my senses. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW. + + +I came to my senses in one of the bedrooms of the Shantytown Hotel. +There was only a partition between that and the other bedrooms of +brown cotton cloth, and as I slowly became conscious of things about +me, I heard two voices beyond the next curtain talking of my affairs. + +"I reckon he won't know where the time's gone to when he comes to +himself ag'in. Lucky for him he didn't go up, like the old gentleman, +in such small pieces as to never come down. I don't see, fur the life +of me, what purvented. He was standin' right over the kag on which the +old chap sot. Marakalous escape, that of the young lady. Beats +everything." + +"You bet, pardner, 'twouldn't happen so once in a thousand times. You +see, she was jist blowed over the ledge an' rolled down twenty or +thirty feet, an' brought up on a soft spot--wa'n't hurt a particle. +But how she does take on about her pop! S'pose you knew her brother's +come on fur her?" + +"No." + +"Yes; got here by the noon stage. They're reckoning to leave +Shantytown immegitly. Less go down and see 'em off!" + +They shuffled away. + +I don't know whether my head ached, but I know my heart did. I was a +murderer. Or, if not quite so bad as a deliberate murderer, I was, at +the very least, guilty of manslaughter. And why? Because I had not +been able to overcome my wicked weakness. I felt sick of life, of +everything--especially of the mines. + +"I can never return to the scene of the accident," I thought. + +I groaned and tossed, but it was the torture of my conscience, and not +of my aching limbs. The doctor and others came in. + +"How long shall I have to lie here?" I asked. + +"Not many days; no bones are broken. Your head is injured and you are +badly bruised, that's all. You must keep quiet--you must not excite +yourself." + +Excite myself! As if I could, for one moment, forget the respectable +old capitalist whom I had first poisoned and then blown into ten +thousand pieces through my folly. I had brain fever. It set in that +night. For two weeks I raved deliriously; for two weeks I was doing +the things I ought not to have done--in imagination. I took a young +lady skating, and slipped down with her on the ice, and broke her +Grecian nose. I went to a grand reception, and tore the point lace +flounce off of Mrs. Grant's train, put my handkerchief in my saucer, +and my coffee-cup in my pocket. I was left to entertain a handsome +young lady, and all I could say was to cough and "Hem! hem!" until at +last she asked me if I had any particular article I would like hemmed. + +I killed a baby by sitting down on it in a fit of embarrassment, when +asked by a neighbor to take a seat. I waltzed and waltzed and waltzed +with Blue-Eyes, and every time I turned I stepped on her toes with my +heavy boots, until they must have been jelly in her little satin +slippers, and finally we fell down-stairs, and I went out of that +fevered dream only to find myself again giving blazing kerosene to an +estimable old gentleman, who swallowed it unsuspiciously, and then sat +down on a powder keg, and we all blew up--up--up--and came +down--down--bump! I never want to have brain fever again--at least, +not until I have conquered myself. + +When I was once more rational, I resolved that a miner's life was too +rough for me; and, as soon as I could be bolstered up in a corner of +the coach, I set out to reach the railroad, where I was to take a +palace-car for home. I gained strength rapidly during the change and +excitement of the journey; so that, the day before we were to reach +Chicago, I no longer remained prone in my berth, but, "clothed and in +my right mind," took my seat with the other passengers, looked about +and tried to forget the past and to enjoy myself. At first, I had a +seat to myself; but, at one of the stations, about two in the +afternoon, a lady, dressed in deep black, and wearing a heavy crepe +veil, which concealed her face, entered our car, and slipped quietly +in to the vacant half of my seat. She sat quite motionless, with her +veil down. Every few moments a long, tremulous, heart-broken sigh +stirred this sable curtain which shut in my companion's face. I felt a +deep sympathy for her, whoever she might be, old or young, pretty or +ugly. I inferred that she was a widow; I could hear that she was in +affliction; but I was far too diffident to invent any little courteous +way of expressing my sympathy. In about half an hour, she put her veil +to one side, and asked me, in a low, sweet, pathetic voice, if I had +any objection to drawing down the blind, as her veil smothered her, +and she had wept so much that her eyes could not bear the strong light +of the afternoon sun. I drew down the blind--with such haste as to +pinch my fingers cruelly between the sash and the sill. + +"Oh, I am _so_ sorry!" said she. + +"It's of no consequence," I stammered, making a Toots of myself. + +"Oh, but _it is_! and in my service too! Let me be your surgeon, sir," +and she took from her traveling-bag a small bottle of cologne, with +which she drenched a delicate film of black-bordered handkerchief, +and then wound the same around my aching fingers. "You are pale," she +continued, slightly pressing my hand before releasing it--"ah, how +sorry I am!" + +"I am pale because I have been ill recently," I responded, conscious +that all my becoming pallor was changing to turkey-red. + +"Ill?--oh, how sad! What a world of trouble we live in! Ill?--and so +young--so hand----. Excuse me, I meant not to flatter you, but I have +seen so much sorrow myself. I am only twenty-two, and I've been a +wid--wid--wid--ow over a year." + +She wiped away a tear with handkerchief No. 2, and smiled sadly in my +face. + +"Sorrow has aged her," I thought, for, although the blind was down, +she looked to me nearer thirty than twenty-two. + +Still, she was pretty, with dark eyes that looked into yours in a +wonderfully confiding way--melting, liquid, deep eyes, that even a man +who is perfectly self-possessed can not see to the bottom of soon +enough for his own good. As for me, those eyes confused while they +pleased me. The widow never noticed my embarrassment; but, the ice +once broken, talked on and on. She gave me, in soft, sweet, broken +accents, her history--how she had been her mother's only pet, and had +married a rich Chicago broker, who had died in less than two years, +leaving her alone--all alone--with plenty of money, plenty of +jewelry, a fine house, but alas, "no one to love her, none to caress," +as the song says, and the world a desert. + +"But I can still love _a friend_," she added, with a melancholy smile. +"One as disinterested, as ignorant of the world as you, would please +me best. You must stop in Chicago," she said, giving me her card +before we parted. "Every traveler should spend a few days in our +wonderful city. Call on me, and I will have up my carriage and take +you out to see the sights." + +Need I say that I stopped in Chicago? or add that I went to call on +the fair widow? She took me out driving according to promise. I found +that she was just the style of woman that suited me best. I was +bashful; she was not. I was silent; she could keep up the conversation +with very little aid from me. With such a woman as that I could get +along in life. She would always be willing to take the lead. All I +would have to do would be to give her the reins, and she would keep +the team going. She would be willing to walk the first into church--to +interview the butcher and baker--to stand between me and the world. A +wife like that would be some comfort to a bashful man. Besides, she +was rich! Had she not said it? I have seldom had a happier hour than +that of our swift, exhilarating drive. The colored driver, gorgeous in +his handsome livery, kept his eyes and ears to himself. I lolled back +in the luxurious carriage beside my charmer. I forgot the unhappy +accident of the blasting-powder--all the mortifications and +disappointments of my life. I reveled in bliss. For once, I had +nothing to do but be courted. How often had I envied the girls their +privilege of keeping quiet and being made love to. How often had I +sighed to be one of the sex who is popped to and does not have to pop. +And now, this lovely, brilliant creature who sat beside me, having +been once married, and seeing my natural timidity, "knew how it was +herself," and took on her own fair hands all the responsibility. + +"Mr. Flutter," said she, "I know just how you feel--you want to ask me +to marry you, but you are too bashful. Have I guessed right?" + +I pressed her hand in speechless assent. + +"Yes, my dear boy, I knew it. Well, this is leap-year, and I will not +see you sacrificed to your own timidity. I am yours, whenever you +wish--to-morrow if you say so--yours forever. You shall have no +trouble about it, I will speak to the Rev. Mr. Coalyard myself--I know +him. When shall it be?--speak, dearest!" + +I gasped out "to-morrow," and buried my blushing face on her shoulder. + +For a moment her soft arms were twined around me--a moment only, for +we were on the open lake drive. Not more than ten seconds did the +pretty widow embrace me, but that was time enough, as I learned to my +sorrow, for her to extract my pocket-book, containing the five hundred +dollars I still had remaining from the sale of my mining-stock, and +not one dollar of which did I ever see again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +AT LAST HE SECURES A TREASURE. + + +I had to pawn my watch to get away from Chicago, for the police failed +to find my pretty widow. The thought of getting again under my mother's +wing was as welcome as my desire to get away from it had been eager. At +night my dreams were haunted by all sorts of horrible fire-works, where +old gentlemen sat down on powder-kegs, etc. Oh, for home! I knew there +were no widows in my native village, except Widow Green, and I was not +afraid of her. Well, I took the cars once more, and I had been riding +two days and a night, and was not over forty miles from my destination, +when the little incident occurred which proved to lead me into one of +the worst blunders of all. It's _awful_ to be a bashful young man! +Everybody takes advantage of you. You are the victim of practical +jokes--folks laugh if you do nothing on earth but enter a room. If you +happen to hit your foot against a stool, or trip over a rug, or call a +lady "sir," the girls giggle and the boys nudge each other, as if it +were extremely amusing. But to blow up a confiding Wall street +speculator, and to be swindled out of all your money by a pretty widow, +is enough to make a sensitive man a raving lunatic. I had all this to +think of as I was whirled along toward home. So absorbed was I in +melancholy reflection, that I did not notice what was going on until a +sudden shrill squawk close in my ear caused me to turn, when I found +that a very common-looking young woman, with a by no means interesting +infant of six months, had taken the vacant half of my seat. I was +annoyed. There were plenty of unoccupied seats in the car, and I saw no +reason why she should intrude upon my comfort. The infant shrieked +wildly when I looked at it; but its mother stopped its mouth with one of +those what-do-you-call-'ems that are stuck on the end of a flat bottle +containing sweetened milk, and, after sputtering and gurgling in a vain +attempt to keep on squalling, it subsided and went vigorously to work. +It seemed after a time to become more accustomed to my harmless visage, +and stared at me stolidly, with round, unwinking eyes, after it had +exhausted the contents of the bottle. + +In about half an hour the train stopped at a certain station; the +conductor yelled out "ten minutes for refreshments," the eating-house +man rang a big bell, and the passengers, many of them, hurried out. +Then the freckle-faced woman leaned toward me. + +"Are you goin' out?" said she. + +"No," I replied, politely; "I am not far from home, and prefer waiting +for my lunch until I get there." + +[Illustration: "WOULD YOU HOLD MY BABY WHILE I RUN IN AN' GET A CUP O' +TEA?"] + +"Then," said she, very earnestly, "would you hold my baby while I run +in an' get a cup o' tea? Indeed, sir, I'm half famished, riding over +twenty-four hours, and only a biscuit or two in my bag, and I must get +some milk for baby's bottle or she'll starve." + +It was impossible, under such circumstances, for one to refuse, though +I would have preferred to head a regiment going into battle, for +there were three young ladies, about six seats behind me, who were +eating their lunch in the car, and I knew they would laugh at me; +besides, the woman gave me no chance to decline, for she thrust the +wide-eyed terror into my awkward arms, and rushed quickly out to +obtain her cup of tea. + +Did you ever see a bashful young man hold a strange baby? I expect I +furnished--I and the baby--a comic opera, music and all, for the +entertainment of the three girls, as they nibbled their cold chicken +and pound-cake. For the mother had not been gone over fifteen seconds +when that confounded young one began to cry. I sat her down on my knee +and trotted her. She screamed with indignation, and grew so purple in +the face I thought she was strangling, and I patted her on the back. +This liberty she resented by going into a sort of spasm, legs and arms +flying in every direction, worse than a wind-mill in a gale. + +"This will never do," I thought; at the same time I was positive I +heard a suppressed giggle in my rear. + +A happy thought occurred to me--infants were always tickled with +watches! But, alas I had pawned mine. However, I had a gold locket in +my pocket, with my picture in it, which I had bought in Chicago, to +present to the widow, and didn't present: this I drew forth and +dangled before the eyes of the little infernal threshing-machine. + +The legs and arms quieted down; the fat hands grabbed the glittering +trinket. "Goo--goo--goo--goo," said the baby, and thrust the locket in +her mouth. I think she must have been going through the interesting +process of teething, for she made so many dents in the handsome face, +that it was rendered useless as a future gift to some fortunate girl, +while the way she slobbered over it was disgusting. I scarcely regretted +the ruin of the locket, I was so delighted to have her keep quiet; but, +alas! the little wretch soon dropped it and began howling like ten +thousand midnight cats. I trotted her again--I tossed her--I laid her +over my knees on her stomach--I said "Ssh--ssh--ssssh--sssssh!" all in +vain. Instead of ten minutes for refreshments it seemed to me that they +gave ten hours. + +In desperation I raised her and hung her over my shoulder, rising at +the same time and walking up and down the aisle. The howling ceased: +but now the young ladies, after choking with suppressed laughter, +finally broke into a scream of delight. Something must be up! I took +the baby down and looked over my shoulder--the little rip had opened +her mouth and sent a stream of white, curdy milk down the back of my +new overcoat. For one instant the fate of that child hung in the +balance. I walked to the door, and made a movement to throw her to +the dogs; but humanity gained the day, and I refrained. + +I felt that my face was redder than the baby's; every passenger +remaining in the car was smiling. I went calmly back, and laid her +down on the seat, while I took off my coat and made an attempt to +remove the odious matters with my handkerchief, which ended by my +throwing the coat over the back of the seat in disgust, resolving that +mother would have to finish the job with her "Renovator." My +handkerchief I threw out of the window. + +Thank goodness! the engine bell was ringing at last and the people +crowding back into the train. + +I drew a long breath of relief, snatched the shrieking infant up +again, for fear the mother would blame me for neglecting her ugly +brat--and waited. + +"All aboard!" shouted the conductor; the bell ceased to ring, the +wheels began to revolve, the train was in motion. + +"Great Jupiter Ammen!" I thought, while a cold sweat started out all +over me, "she will be left!" + +The cars moved faster and more mercilessly fast; the conductor +appeared at the door; I rose and rushed toward him, the baby in my +arms, crying: + +"For Heaven's sake, conductor, stop the cars!" + +"What's up?" he asked. + +"What's up? Stop the cars, I say! Back down to the station again! +_This baby's mother's left!_" + +"Then she left on purpose," he answered coolly; "she never went into +the eating-house at all. I saw her making tall tracks for the train +that goes the other way. I thought it was all right. I didn't notice +she hadn't her baby with her. I'll telegraph at the next station; +that's all that can be done now." + +This capped the climax of all my previous blunders! Why had I blindly +consented to care for that woman's progeny? Why? why? Here was I, John +Flutter, a young, innocent, unmarried man, approaching the home of my +childhood with an infant in my arms! The horror of my situation turned +me red and pale by turns as if I had apoplexy or heart disease. + +There was always a crowd of young people down at the depot of our +village; what would they think to see me emerge from the cars carrying +that baby? Even the child seemed astonished, ceasing to cry, and +staring around upon the passengers as if in wonder and amazement at +our predicament. Yet not one of those heartless travelers seemed to +pity me; every mouth was stretched in a broad grin; not a woman came +forward and offered to relieve me of my burden; and thus, in the midst +of my embarrassment and horror, the train rolled up to the well-known +station, and I saw my father and mother, and half the boys and girls +of the village, crowding the platform and waiting to welcome my +arrival. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL. + + +Once more I was settled quietly down to my old life, clerking in my +father's store. You would naturally suppose that my travels would have +given me some confidence, and that I had worn out, as it were, the +bashfulness of youth; but in my case this was an inborn quality which +I could no more get rid of, than I could of my liver or my spleen. + +I had never confessed to any one the episode of the giant-powder or +the Chicago widow; but the story of the baby had crept out, through +the conductor, who told it to the station-master. If you want to know +how _that_ ended, I'll just tell you that, maddened by the grins and +giggles of the passengers, I started for the car door with that baby, +but, in passing those three giggling young ladies, I suddenly slung +the infant into their collective laps, and darted out upon the station +platform. That's the way I got out of that scrape. + +As I was saying, after all those dreadful experiences, I was glad to +settle down in the store, where I honestly strove to overcome my +weakness; but it was still so troublesome that father always +interfered when the girls came in to purchase dry-goods. He said I +almost destroyed the profits of the business, giving extra measure on +ribbons and silks, and getting confused over the calicoes. But I'm +certain the shoe was on the other foot; there wasn't a girl in town +would go anywhere else to shop when they could enjoy the fun of +teasing me; so that if I made a few blunders, I also brought custom. + +Cold weather came again, and I was one year older. There was a grand +ball on the twenty-second of February, to which I invited Hetty +Slocum, who accepted my escort. We expected to have lots of fun. The +ball-room was in the third story of the Spread-Eagle Hotel. There was +to be a splendid supper at midnight in the big dining-room; hot +oysters "in every style," roast turkey, chicken-pie, coffee, and all +the sweet fixings. + +It turned out to be a clear night; I took Hetty to the hotel in +father's fancy sleigh, in good style, and having got her safely to the +door of the ladies' parlor without a blunder to mar my peace of mind, +except that I stepped on her slippered foot in getting into the +sleigh, and crushed it so, that Hetty could hardly dance for the pain, +I began to feel an unusual degree of confidence in myself, which I +fortified by a stern resolution, on no account to get to blushing and +stammering, but to walk coolly up to the handsomest girls and ask them +out on the floor with all the self-possessed gallantry of a man of +the world. + +Alas! "the best-laid plans of mice an' men must aft gang," like a +balky horse--just opposite to what you want them to. I spoke to my +acquaintances in the bar-room easily enough, but when one after one +the fellows went up to the door of the ladies' dressing-room to escort +their fair companions to the ball-room, I felt my courage oozing away, +until, under the pretext of keeping warm by the fire, I remained in +the bar-room until every one else had deserted it. Then I slowly made +my way up, intending to enter the gentlemen's dressing-room, to tie my +white cravat, and put on my white kids. I found the room +deserted--every one had entered the ball-room but myself; I could hear +the gay music of the violins, and the tapping of the feet on the floor +overhead. Surely it was time that I had called for _my_ lady, and +taken her up. + +I knew that Hetty would be mad, because I had made her lose the first +dance; yet, I fooled and fooled over the tying of my cravat, dreading +the ordeal of entering the ball-room with a lady on my arm. At last it +was tied. I turned to put on my gloves; then, for the first time, I +was made aware that I had mistaken the room. I was in the ladies', not +the gentlemen's dressing-room. There were the heaps of folded cloaks, +and shawls, and the hoods. That very instant, before I could beat a +retreat, I heard voices at the door--Hetty's among them. I glared +around for some means of escape. There were none. What excuse could I +make for my singular intrusion? Would it be believed if I swore that I +had been unaware of the character of my surroundings? Would I be +suspected of being a kleptomaniac? In the intensity of my +mortification I madly followed the first impulse which moved me. This +was to dive under the bed. + +I had no more than taken refuge in this curious hiding-place, than I +regretted the foolish act; to be discovered there would be infamy and +disgrace too deep for words. I would have crawled out at the last +second, but it was too late; I heard the girls in the room, and was +forced to try and keep still as a mouse, though my heart thumped so I +was certain they must hear it. + +"Where do you suppose he has gone?" asked one. + +"Goodness knows," answered Hetty. "I have looked in the gentlemen's +room--he's not there. Catch me going to a ball with John Flutter +again." + +"It's a real insult, his not coming for you," added another; "but, la! +you must excuse it. I know what's the trouble. I'll bet you two cents +he's afraid to come up-stairs. He! he! he!" + +Then all of them tittered "he! he! he" and "ha! ha! ha!" + +"Did you ever see such a bashful young fellow?" + +"He's a perfect goose!" + +"Isn't it fun alive to tease him?" + +"Do you remember when he tumbled in the lake?" + +"Oh! and the time he sat down in the butter-tub?" + +"Yes; and that day he came to our house and sat down in Old Mother +Smith's cap instead of a vacant chair, because he was blushing so it +made him blind." + +"Well, if he hadn't crushed my foot getting into the sleigh, I +wouldn't care," added Hetty, spitefully. "I shall limp all the +evening." + +"I do despise a blundering, stupid fellow that can't half take care of +a girl." + +"Yes; but what would you do without Mr. Flutter to laugh at?" + +"That's so. As long as he stays around we will have somebody to amuse +us." + +"He'd be good-looking if he wasn't always so red in the face." + +"If I was in his place I'd never go out without a veil." + +"To hide his blushes?" + +"Of course. What a pity he forgot to take his hat off in church last +Sunday, until his mother nudged him." + +"Yes. Did you hear it smash when he put his foot in it when he got up +to go?" + +Heavens and earth! There I was, under the bed, an enforced listener to +this flattering conversation. My breast nearly burst with anger at +them, at myself, at a cruel fate which had sent me into the world, +doomed to grow up a bashful man. If, by falling one thousand feet +plumb down, I could have sunk through that floor, I would have run the +risk. + +"You heard about the ba----" began Hetty. + +It was too much! In my torment I moved my feet without meaning to, and +they hit against the leg of the bedstead with some force. + +"What's that?" + +"A cat under the bed, I should say." + +"More likely a rat. Oh, girls! it may gnaw our cloaks; mine is under +there, I know." + +"Well, let us drive it out." + +"Oh! oh! oh! I'm afraid!" + +"I'm not; I'm going to see what is under there." + +My heart ceased to beat. Should I live to the next centennial, I shall +never forget that moment. + +The girl who had spoken last stooped and looked under the bed; this +motion was followed by a thrilling shriek. + +"There's a _man_ under the bed!" she screamed. + +The other girls joined in; a wild chorus of shrieks arose, commingled +with cries of "Robber!" "Thief!" "Burglar!" + +Urged to desperation, I was about to roll out from my hiding-place and +make a rush to get out, hoping to pass unrecognized by covering my +face with my hands, when two or three dozen young men swooped into the +room. + +"What is it?" + +"Where?" + +"A man under the bed!" + +"Let me at the rascal!" + +"Ha! come out here, you villain!" + +All was over. They dragged me out, covered with dust and feathers, +and, pulling my despairing hands from over my miserable face, they +turned me to the light. Then the fury and the threats subsided. There +was a moment's profound silence--girls and fellows stared in mute +astonishment, and then--then broke from one and all a burst of +convulsive laughter. And in the midst of those shrieks and groans of +mirth at my expense, everything grew dark, and I suffered no more. +They told me afterward that I fainted dead away. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR. + + +My mother and the ancient lady who presided over the mysteries of my +initiation as a member of the human fraternity, say that I was born +with a caul over my face. Now, what I want to know is, why didn't they +leave that caul where they found it? What business had they to meddle +with the veil which beneficent nature gave me as a shield to my +infirmity? Had they respected her intention, they would have let it +alone--poked a hole in it for me to eat and breathe through, and left +the veil which she kindly provided to hide my blushing face from the +eyes of my fellow-creatures. + +Nature knew beforehand that I was going to be born to be bashful. +Therefore she gave me a caul. Had this been respected as it should +have been, I could have blossomed out into my full luxuriance as a +_cauli_flower whereas now I am an ever-blooming peony. + +When I rushed home after recovering from the fainting fit into which +my hiding under the bed had driven me, I threw myself down in he +sanctity of my private apartment and howled and shrieked for that caul +of my infancy. But no caul came at my call. That dried and withered +thing was reposing somewhere amid the curiosities of an old hag's +bureau-drawer. + +Then I wildly wished that I were the veiled prophet of Khorassan. But +no! I was only bashful John Flutter, the butt and ridicule of a little +meddling village. + +I knew that this last adventure would revive the memory of all my +previous exploits. I knew the girls would all go to see each other the +next day so as to have a good giggle together. Worse than that, I knew +there would be an unprecedented run of custom at the store. There +wouldn't be a girl in the whole place who wouldn't require something +in the dry-goods line the coming day; they would come and ask for pins +and needles just for the heartless fun of seeing _me_ enduring the +pangs of mental pins and needles. + +So I resolved that I would not get up that morning. The breakfast-bell +rang three times; mother came up to knock at my door. + +"Oh, I am so sleepy, mother!" I answered, with a big yawn; "you knew I +was up last night. Don't want any breakfast, just another little nap." + +So the good soul went down, leaving me to my wretched thoughts. At +noon she came up again. + +"John, you had better rise now. Father can't come to dinner there's so +many customers in the store. Seems as if there was going to be a ball +to-night again; every girl in town is after ribbon, or lace, or +hair-pins, or something." + +"I can't get up to-day, mother. I'm awfully unwell--got a high +fever--_you'll_ have to go in and lend father a helping hand"; and so +she brought me a cup of tea and a piece of toast, and then went up to +take father's place while he ate his dinner. + +I _guess_ she suspected I'd been done for again by the way those young +women laughed when she told them I was sick in bed: for she was pretty +cross when I sneaked down to tea, and didn't seem to worry about how I +felt. Well, I kept pretty quiet the rest of the season. There were +dances and sleighing parties, but I stayed away from them, and +attended strictly to business. + +I don't know but that I might have begun to enjoy some peace of mind, +after the winter and part of the spring had passed without any very +awful catastrophe having occurred to me; but, some time in the latter +part of May, when the roses were just beginning to bloom, and +everything was lovely, a pretty cousin from some distant part of the +State came to spend a month at our house. I had never seen her before, +and you may imagine how I felt when she rushed at me and kissed me, +and called me her dear cousin John, just as if we had known each other +all the days of our lives. I think it was a constant surprise to her +to find that I was bashful. _She_ wasn't a bit so. It embarrassed me a +thousand times more to see how she would slyly watch out of the corner +of her laughing eye for the signs of my diffidence. + +Well, of course, all the girls called on her, and boys too, as to +that, and I had to take her to return their visits, and I was in hot +water all the time. Before she went away, mother gave her a large +evening party. I behaved with my usual elegance of manner, stepping on +the ladies' trains and toes in dancing, calling them by other people's +names, and all those little courtesies for which I was so famous. I +even contrived to sit down where there was no chair, to the amusement +of the fellows. My cousin Susie was going away the next day. I was +dead in love with her, and my mind was taken up with the intention of +telling her so. I had not the faintest idea of whether she cared for +me or not. She had laughed at me and teased me mercilessly. + +On the contrary, she had been very encouraging to Tom Todd, a young +lawyer of the place--a little snob, with self-conceit enough in his +dapper body for six larger men. This evening he had been particularly +attentive to her. Susie was pretty and quite an heiress, so I knew Tom +Todd would try to secure her. He was just that kind of a fellow who +could propose to a girl while he was asking her out for a set of the +lanciers, or handing her a plate of salad at supper. Alas, I could do +nothing of the kind. With all my superior opportunities, here the last +evening was half through, and I had not yet made a motion to secure +the prize. I watched Tom as if he had been a thief and I a detective. +I was cold and hot by turns whenever he bent to whisper in Susie's +ear, as he did about a thousand times. At last, as supper-time +approached, I saw my cousin slip out into the dining-room. I thought +mother had sent her to see that all was right, before marshalling the +company out to the feast. + +"Now, or never," I thought, turning pale as death; and with one +resolute effort I slipped into the hall and so into the dining-room. + +Susie was there, doing something; but when she saw me enter she gave a +little shriek and darted into the pantry. No! I was not to be baffled +thus. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, but I thought of that +snob in the parlor, and pressed on to the pantry-door. + +"Susie," said I, very softly, trying to open it--"Susie, I _must_ +speak to you. Let me in." + +The more I tried to open the door the more firmly she held it. + +"Do go along with you, cousin John," she answered. + +"I can't, Susie. I want to see you a minute." + +"See me? Oh, what a wicked fellow! Go along, or I'll tell your +mother." + +"Tell, or not; for once I'm going to have my own way," I said, and +pressing my knee against the door, I forced it open, and there stood +my pretty cousin, angry and blushing, trying to hide from my view the +crinoline which had come off in the parlor. + +I retreated, closing the door and waiting for her to re-appear. + +In a few minutes she came out, evidently offended. + +"Susie," I stammered, "I did--did--didn't dream your bus--bus--bustle +had come off. I only wanted to tell you that--that I pr--pr--pri--prize +your li--li--li--" + +"But I never lie," she interrupted me, saucily. + +"That I shall be the most mis--is--is--er--able fellow that ever--" + +"Now don't make a goose of yourself, cousin John," she said, sweetly, +laying her little hand on my shoulder for an instant. "Stop where you +are! Tom Todd asked me to marry him, half an hour ago, and I said I +would." + +Tom Todd, then, had got the start of me; after all. Worse! he had +sneaked into the dining-room after Susie, and had come up behind us +and heard every word. As I turned, dizzy and confused, I saw his +smiling, insolent face. Enraged, unhappy, and embarrassed by his +grieving triumph, I hastily turned to retreat into the pantry! +Unfortunately, there were two doors close together, one leading to the +pantry, the other to the cellar. In my blind embarrassment I mistook +them; and the next moment the whole company were startled by a loud +bump--bumping, a crash, and a woman's scream. + +There was a barrel of soft-soap at the foot of the cellar-stairs, and +I fell, head first, into that. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +DRIVEN FROM HIS LAST DEFENCE. + + +Susie was Mrs. Todd before I recovered from the effects of my +involuntary soap-bath. + +"Smart trick!" cried my father when he fished me out of the barrel. + +I thought it _was_ smart, sure enough, by the sensation in my eyes. +But I have drawn a veil over that bit of my history. I know my +eyesight was injured for all that summer. I could not tell a piece of +silk from a piece of calico, except by the feeling; so I was excused +from clerking in the store, and sat round the house with green goggles +on, and wished I were different from what I was. By fall my eyesight +got better. One day father came in the parlor where I was sitting +moping, having just seen Tom Todd drive by in a new buggy with his +bride, and said to me: + +"John, I am disappointed in you." + +"I know it," I answered him meekly. + +"You look well enough, and you have talent enough," he went on; "but +you are too ridiculously bashful for an ostrich." + +"I know it," I again replied. "Oh, father, father, why did they take +that caul from my face?" + +"That--what?" inquired my puzzled sire. + +"That caul--wasn't I born with a caul, father?" + +"Now that I recall it, I believe you were," responded father, while +his stern face relaxed into a smile, "and I wish to goodness they had +left it on you, John; but they didn't, and that's an end of it. What I +was going to say was this. Convinced that you will never succeed as my +successor--that your unconquerable diffidence unfits you for the +dry-goods trade--I have been looking around for some such situation as +I have often heard you sigh for. The old light-house keeper on +Buncombe Island is dead, and I have caused you to be appointed his +successor. You will not see a human being except when supplies are +brought to you, which, in the winter, will be only once in two months. +Even then your peace will not be disturbed by any sight of one of the +other sex. You will not need a caul there! Go, my son, and remain +until you can outgrow your absurd infirmity." + +I felt dismayed at the prospect, now that it was so near at hand. I +had often--in the distance--yearned for the security of a light-house. +Yet I now looked about on our comfortable parlor with a longing eye. I +recalled the pleasant tea-hour when there were no visitors; I thought +of the fun the boys and girls would have this coming winter, and I +wished father had not been so precipitate in securing that vacant +place. + +Just then Miss Gabble came up our steps, and shortly after entered the +parlor. She was one of those dreaded beings, who always filled me with +the direst confusion. She sat right down by my side and squeezed my +hand. + +"My poor, dear fellow-mortal!" said she, getting her sharp face so +close to mine I thought she was going to kiss me, "how do you do? +Wearing them goggles yet? It is too bad. And yet, after all, they are +sort of becoming to you. In fact, you're so good-looking you can wear +anything. And how your mustache does grow, to be sure!" + +I saw father was getting up to leave the room, and I flung her hand +away, saying quickly to him: "I'll get the glass of water, father." + +And so I beat him that time, and got out of the room, quite willing to +live in the desert of Sahara, if by it I could get rid of such +females. + +Well, I went to Buncombe Island. I retired from the world to a +light-house in the first bloom of my youth. I did not want to be a +monk--I could not be a man--and so I did what fate and my father laid +out for me to do. Through the fine autumn weather I enjoyed my +retirement. I had taken plenty of books and magazines with me to while +away the time; there was a lovely promenade along the sea-wall on +which the tall tower stood, and I could walk there for hours without +my pulse being disturbed by visions of parasols, loves of bonnets, and +pretty faces under them. I communed with the sea. I told it my rations +were too salt; that I didn't like the odor of the oil in filling the +lamps; that my legs got tired going up to the lantern, and that my +arms gave out polishing the lenses. I also confided to it that I would +not mind these little trifles if I only had one being to share my +solitude--a modest, shy little creature that I wouldn't be afraid to +ask to be my wife. + + "Oh, had we some bright little isle of our own, + In a blue summer ocean far off and alone." + +I'd forget the curse of my life and be happy in spite of it. + +When winter shut down, however, I didn't talk quite so much to the +sea; it was ugly and boisterous, and the windy promenade was +dangerous, and I shut myself up and pined like the "Prisoner of +Chillon." I have lots of spunk and pride, if I am bashful; and so I +never let on to those at home--when I sent them a letter once in two +months by the little tug that brought my oil and provisions--that I +was homesick. I said the ocean was glorious; that there was a Byronic +sublimity in lighting up the lantern; that standing behind a counter +and showing dry-goods to silly, giggling girls couldn't be compared +with it; that I hadn't blushed in six months, and that I didn't think +I should ever be willing to come back to a world full of grinning +snobs and confusing women. + +And now, what do you think happened to me? My fate was too strong even +for Buncombe Island. It was the second of January. The tug had not +left the island, after leaving a nine-weeks' supply, more than twelve +hours before a fearful gale began to blow; it rose higher and higher +through the night, and in the morning I found that a small +sailing-vessel had been wrecked about half a mile from the +light-house, where the beach ran out for some distance into the water, +and the land was not so high as on the rock. I ran down there, the +wind still roaring enough to blow me away, and the spray dashing into +my eyes, and I found the vessel had gone to pieces and every man was +drowned. + +But what was this that lay at my feet? A woman, lashed to a spar, and +apparently dead. When I picked her up, though, she opened her eyes and +shut them again. Enough! this was no time to think of peculiar +difficulties. I lugged her to the warm room in the light-house where I +sat and lived. I put her before the fire; I heated some brandy and +poured it between her lips; in short, when I sat down to my little +tea-table late that afternoon, somebody sat on the opposite side--a +woman--a girl, rather, not more than eighteen or nineteen. Here she +was, and here she must remain for two long months. + +_She_ did not seem half so much put out as I. In fact, she was quite +calm, after she had explained to me that she was one of three +passengers on board the sailing-vessel, and that all the others were +drowned. + +"You will have to remain here for two months," I ventured to explain +to her, coloring like a lobster dabbed into hot water. + +"Oh, then, I may as well begin pouring the tea at once," she observed +coolly; "that's a feminine duty, you know, sir." + +"I'm glad you're not afraid of me," I ventured to say. + +"Afraid of you!" she replied, tittering. "No, indeed. It is _you_ who +are afraid of _me_. But I sha'n't hurt you, sir. You mind your +affairs, and I'll mind mine, and neither of us will come to grief. +Why, what a lot of books you've got! And such an easy-chair! It's just +splendid here, and so romantic, like the stories we read." + +I repressed a groan, and allowed her, after supper, and she had done +as she said--washed the dishes--to take possession of my favorite book +and my favorite seat. She was tired with her adventures of the night +before, and soon asked where she was to sleep. + +"In there," I answered, pointing to the door of a small bedroom which +opened out of the living-room. + +She went in, and locked the door; and I went up to the lantern to see +that all was right, and to swear and tear around a little. Here was a +two-months'-long embarrassment! Here was all my old trouble back in a +new shape! What would my folks--what would the world say? Would they +believe the story about the wreck? Must my character suffer? Even at +the best, I must face this girl of the period from morning until +night. She had already discovered that I was bashful; she would take +advantage of it to torment me. What would the rude men say when they +came again with supplies? + +Better measure tape in my father's store for a lot of teasing young +ladies whom I know, than dwell alone in a light-house with this +inconsiderate young woman! + +"If ever I get out of this scrape, I will know when I am well off!" I +moaned, tearing my hair, and gazing wildly at the pitiless lights. + +Suddenly a thought struck me. I had seen a small boat beached near the +scene of the wreck; it probably had belonged to the ship. I remained +in the lantern until it began to grow daybreak; then I crept down and +out, and ran to examine that boat. It was water-proof, and one of its +oars still remained. The waves were by this time comparatively calm. I +pushed the boat into the water, jumped in, rowed around to the other +side of the island, and that day I made thirty miles, with only one +oar, landing at the city dock at sunset. I was pretty well used-up I +tell you. But I had got away from that solitary female, who must have +spent a pensive day at Buncombe, in wondering what had become of me. I +reported at headquarters that night, resigned, and started for home. +I'm afraid the light-house lamps were not properly tended that night; +still, they may have been, and that girl was equal to anything. + +Such is life! Such has been _my_ experience. Do you wonder that I am +still a bachelor? I will not go on, relating circumstances in my life +which have too much resemblance to each other. It would only be a +repetition of my miserable blunders. But I will make a proposition to +young ladies in general. I am well-to-do; the store is in a most +flourishing condition; I have but one serious fault, and you all know +what that is. Now, will not some of you take pity on me? I might be +waylaid, blindfolded, lifted into a carriage, and abducted. I might be +brought before a minister and frightened into marrying any nice, +handsome, well-bred girl that had courage enough for such an +emergency. Once safely wedded, I have a faint idea that my bashfulness +will wear off. Come! who is ready to try the experiment? + + * * * * * + + + + +Murine Eye Remedies + +Murine is a Reliable Domestic Eye Remedy, Perfectly Harmless, and +should be in the Medicine Closet of every Family, as a "First Aid" for +Injuries or Diseased Conditions of that delicate organ, the Eye. + +[Illustration] + +It does not Smart or Irritate the Eye, but is Soothing in its action. +Tonic, Astringent and an Antiseptic Lotion, and while it is used by +Physicians it is in every sense a Domestic Remedy and can be used by +every one with Perfect Safety for the Prevention of Eye Troubles and +for Affections and Diseases of the external surface of the Eye and +Lids. + +Recommended for Weak Eyes, Strained Eyes, Itching Eyes, Red Eyes and +Eyelids, for Well Eyes that are Tired, for Red Eyes from Weeping, for +Redness and Swelling of the Eyelids, and for Eyes affected by the +excessive use of Tobacco and Stimulants. + +Your Druggist sells Murine Eye Remedies. Our Books mailed Free, tell +you all about them and how to use them. + +May be sent by mail at following prices. + +Murine Eye Remedy 25c., 50c., $1.00 + +DeLuxe Toilet Edition--For the Dressing Table 1.25 + +Tourist--Autoist--in Leather Case 1.25 + +Murine Eye Salve in Aseptic Tubes 25c., 1.00 + +Granuline--For Chronic Sore Eyes and Trachoma 1.50 + +MURINE EYE REMEDY CO. + +Michigan Avenue and Randolph Street, CHICAGO, U. S. A. + + * * * * * + +OGILVIE'S POPULAR + +RAILROAD SERIES. + +[Illustration] + +A KENTUCKY EDITOR O. READ + +FACE TO FACE WITH DEATH A. W. MARCHMONT + +WITH FORCE AND ARMS HOWARD R. GARIS + +THE BUBBLE FAMILY 175 illus BOB BUBBLE + +200 OLD-TIME SONGS. Words and Music. + +CHORUS GIRLS I HAVE KNOWN FRANK DESHON + +'WAY BACK IN '61 G. M. WHITE + +MODERN PALMISTRY; or, Guide to the Hand INA OXENFORD + +THE RACING PARSON CHAS. JOSIAH ADAMS + +'WAY DOWN EAST JOS. R. GRISMER + +MORE TO BE PITIED THAN SCORNED C. E. BLANEY + +DESERTED AT THE ALTAR GRACE MILLER WHITE + +A WIFE'S CONFESSIONS GRACE MILLER WHITE + +WHY WOMEN SIN GRACE MILLER WHITE + +A CLEVER ESCAPE NAT GOULD + +A BID FOR FREEDOM GUY BOOTHBY + +CHASED BY FIRE NAT GOULD + +A GREAT STRUGGLE NAT GOULD + +PEOPLE I'VE SMILED WITH MARSHALL P. WILDER + +HIS CUBAN SWEETHEART RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +A FASCINATING TRAITOR RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +A CAPTIVE PRINCESS RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +AN EXILE FROM LONDON RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +MY OFFICIAL WIFE RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE + +THE TRAGEDY OF ADREA E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + +RICHARD BAXTER EDWARD F. JONES + +THE DREAM OF LOVE EMIL ZOLA + +HIRAM BIRDSEED AT JAMESTOWN HIRAM BIRDSEED + +A FAITHFUL LOVER AMELIE RIVES + +A GENTLEMAN FROM MISSISSIPPI THOS. A. WISE + +THE LETTERS OF MILDRED'S MOTHER TO MILDRED E. D. PRICE + +THE PRIDE OF THE RANCHO HENRY E. SMITH + +THE ASHES OF LOVE CHARLES GARVICE + +ST. ELMO AUGUSTA J. EVANS + +ARSENE LUPIN, Gentleman Burglar MAURICE LEBLANO + +ARSENE LUPIN versus HERLOCK SHOLMES M. LEBLANO + +TANGLES UNTANGLED PAT RICE + +100 STORIES IN BLACK BRIDGES SMITH + +A WOMAN'S SOUL CHARLES GARVICE + +THE CHINATOWN TRUNK MYSTERY OLIVE HARPER + +SHERLOCK HOLMES DETECTIVE STORIES. A. C. DOYLE + +Any of the above books are for sale by newsdealers everywhere, or they +will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents per copy. +Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUB. CO., 57, Ross Street, New york. + + * * * * * + +HERE'S ANOTHER ONE! + +If you have read any of the detective stories which we have +recommended to you, such as THE WORLD'S FINGER, MACON MOORE, Etc., you +know that our statements in regard to their being "the real thing" +were not overdrawn. We now have another one just as good, which we +unhesitatingly recommend. It is entitled + +[Illustration] + +THE HOUSE + +BY THE RIVER + +BY + +FLORENCE WARDEN. + +WHAT THE REVIEWERS SAY OF IT. + + "Florence Warden is the Anna Katharine Greene of England. + She apparently has the same marvelous capacity as Mrs. + Rohlfs for concocting the most complicated plots and most + mystifying mysteries, and serving them up hot to her + readers."--_N. Y. Globe._ + + "The author has a knack of intricate plot-work which will + keep an intelligent reader at _her_ books, when he would + become tired over far better novels not so strongly + peppered. For even the 'wisest men' now and then relish not + only a little nonsense, but as well do they enjoy a + thrilling story of mystery. And this is one--a dark, deep, + awesome, compelling if not convincing tale."--_Sacramento + Bee._ + + "The interest of the story is deep and intense, and many + guesses might be made of the outcome, as one reads along, + without hitting on the right one."--_Salt Lake Tribune_. + +This book contains 310 pages, printed in large clear type, and is +bound in handsome paper cover. It is for sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or it will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of price, 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +SENSATIONAL + +FRENCH FICTION + +makes a strong appeal to a certain class of readers--people who have +lived long enough to realize that there are huge problems of sex and +matrimony, that can only be solved through the actual experience of +the persons concerned. Numberless books have been and are being +written and published treating on these questions, and if through +reading them we are enabled to enlarge our view, look at our problem +from a different angle, appropriate for our own use the benefit of +others' experience either actual or imaginary, by just so much are we +better able to live and think aright and secure to ourselves the +happiness that is our inherent right and goal. + +[Illustration] + +SAPPHO + +BY ALPHONSE DAUDET, + +is a book dealing with the great elements of love and passion as +depicted by life in the gay French capital, Paris. It created an +enormous sensation when first written, and has been in steady demand +ever since from those who, for the first time, have a chance to read +it. It should be read by every thoughtful man and woman. + +For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, +postpaid, on receipt of price, 50 cents. + + * * * * * + +WELL! WELL!! WELL!!! + +[Illustration] + +Talk about your mystery and detective stories-- + +THE MYSTERY + +OF THE + +RAVENSPURS + +By FRED. M. WHITE, + +is certainly a hummer. + +Mr. White stands in the forefront of the mystery and detective story +writers of the English speaking world to-day, and this is one of his +best and latest books. + +Do you like surprises that make your eyes open wide? Sustained +excitement and strange scenes that compel you to read on page after +page with unflagging interest? Something that lifts you out of your +world of care and business, and transports you to another land, clime, +and scenes? Then don't fail to read + +The Mystery of the Ravenspurs. + +It is a romantic tale of adventure, mystery and amateur detective +work, with scenes laid in England, India, and the distant and +comparatively unknown Thibet. A band of mystics from the latter +country are the prime movers in the various conspiracies, and their +new, unique, weird, strange methods form one of the features of the +story. + +Read of the clever detective work by blind Ralph, which borders upon +the supernatural; of walking the black Valley of Death in Thibet, with +its attendant horrors; of the Princess Zara, and her power, intrigue +and treachery laid bare; of the poisonous bees and the deadly perfume +flowers. Unflagging interest holds your spell-bound attention from +cover to cover. + +NEW! UP-TO-DATE! ENTERTAINING! + +The book contains 320 pages, bound in paper cover, with handsome +illustration in colors. Formerly published in cloth at $1.25, now +issued in paper covers at 25 CENTS. + +For sale by booksellers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of price. Address + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +The Price Inevitable; + +OR, + +THE CONFESSIONS OF IRENE. + +BY + +AURELIA I. SIDNER. + +Confessions of whatever nature always seem to appeal to the American +people, possibly because of the fact that in writing such a confession +the author usually lays bare the one great wrong committed, and +endeavors to show and teach by example and experience how the mistake +or indiscretion could have been avoided, and how, also, there must +always be paid THE PRICE INEVITABLE. + +This story tells, in a series of letters, of a woman who was divorced +from her husband, but who in order to win the love and respect of a +pure, honest man, strives to live aright. She fails to win his love, +however, owing to her past life, but does succeed in redeeming +herself. The story is charmingly written, and is more than +interesting--it holds one spell-bound. It is full of excitement and +action, and the characters are strongly drawn and true to nature. The +moral tone is refreshing and the climax is a lengthy SERMON in itself. + +The book contains 212 pages with 3 full-page half-tone illustrations, +and can be obtained at your dealers or from us, cloth bound, for 50 +cents, postpaid. + + * * * * * + +HERE WE COME AGAIN + +With Another Rattling Good + +ADVENTURE AND DETECTIVE STORY! + +SPRIGGS, THE + +CRACKSMAN. + +By HEADON HILL + +[Illustration] + +Ordinarily Spriggs was a cracksman, but the information he gained +while at work one night so surprised him, that he forgot to "burgle," +and then and there decided to get busy on a job that meant a cleanup +of a $60,000 diamond. It led him a perilous chase in which the native +priests and followers of a hidden band in India showed him some things +not seen on the "Strand." + +He also has trouble awaiting him on his return to England. His heart +is in the right place, however, a little kindness, sympathy and help +having been all that were required to change his attitude toward +humanity, and he is able to show his gratitude at an opportune moment. + +A STIRRING, ENTERTAINING, + +SPELL-BINDING STORY! + +The book contains 345 solid pages of reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +DO YOU ENJOY + +reading a book that has just enough dash and piquancy about it to +cause a smile to wreathe your face? A book that tells in an extremely +humorous way of the doings of some smart theatrical folk? Life is many +sided, and our book, + +[Illustration] + +THE LETTERS OF + +MILDRED'S MOTHER TO MILDRED + +BY E. D. PRICE, + +shows one of the sides with which you may not be familiar. + +Mildred is a girl in the chorus at one of New York's famous theatres, +and her mother is a woman who "travels" with a friend by the name of +Blanche. The book is written by E. D. Price, "The Man Behind the +Scenes," one well qualified to touch upon the stage-side of life. + +The following is the Table of Contents: + +Mother at the Races. + +Mother at a Chicago Hotel. + +Mother Goes Yachting. + +Mother Escapes Matrimony, + +Mother Meets Nature's Noblemen. + +Mother Joins the Repertoire Company. + +Mother in the One Night Stands. + +Mother and the Theatrical Angel. + +Mother Returns to Mildred. + +Read what Blakely Hall says of it: + + "I don't know whether you are aware of it or not, but you + are turning out wonderful, accurate and convincing character + studies in the Mildred's Mother articles. They are as + refreshing and invigorating as showers on the hottest July + day." + +The book contains 160 pages, with attractive cover in colors. Price, +cloth bound, $1.00; paper cover, 50 cents. For sale by all booksellers +everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of price. Address + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +The Testing of + +Olive Vaughan + +By PERCY J. BREBNER, + +_Author of "The Princess Maritza," Etc._ + +The stage has ever held an allurement for the lay reader, the general +public, and the uninitiated, so to speak, and Mr. Brebner has chosen +this background for the setting of his story, and has woven around +Olive Vaughan, scenes and incidents showing the temptations to which +every aspirant for theatrical fame and fortune is subject, and showing +too, how, through right decisions and correct judgment based on inborn +and developing strength of character, she is able to rise superior to +her surroundings and wrest a great success. This is not easy to +accomplish, however, and its telling, which shows a fine literary +style and unquestioned powers of characterization and description, is +what makes the author one of the most popular among fiction writers of +the present day. + +It will appeal strongly to every woman who has at any time in her +career been called upon to decide the momentous question of +marrying--whether to follow the dictates of the heart and marry the +one she loves, or follow the decisions of the mind overruling the +heart, and marry one who can give her position and plenty, and whom +she expects to be able to learn to love. + +The book contains 296 pages, printed from new, large type on good +paper, bound in paper cover with attractive design in colors. For sale +by newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of +25 cents. Bound in cloth, price, 75 cents. + + * * * * * + +The Confessions + +Of a Princess + +A book of this sort would necessarily be anonymous, and the name of +the author is not necessary as indicative of literary ability, the +strength of the story depending upon its action as revealed through +the laying bare of the innermost secrets of a "Princess of the Realm" +whose disposition and character were such as to compel her to find +elsewhere than in her own home the love, tenderness, admiration, and +society which was lacking there, and which her being craved. + +Position, money and power, seem to those who do not possess them, to +bring happiness. Such is not the case, however, where stability of +character is lacking and where one depends upon the pleasures of sense +for the enjoyment of life rather than on the accomplishment of things +worth while based on high ideals. + +The writer has taken a page from her life and has given it to the +world. She has laid bare the soul of a woman, that some other woman +(or some man) might profit thereby. The names have been changed, and +such events omitted as might lead too readily to the discovery of +their identity. Each the victim of circumstance, yet the _price_ is +demanded of the one who fell the victim of environment. + +_The Confessions of a Princess_ is the story of a woman who saw, +conquered and fell. + +The book contains 270 pages, printed from new, large type on good +paper, bound in paper cover with attractive design in colors. For sale +by newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt, of +25 cents. Bound in cloth, price, 75 cents. + + * * * * * + +AN AUTOMOBILE + +has a fascination for millions of people. There is an exhilaration, a +restful, soothing, satisfying feeling about automobiling for pleasure +that seems different from that achieved in other ways. But it has its +trying, adventurous, and fearful side as well, and so to those who +have experienced these emotions, and to those who would like to +experience them, we heartily recommend the book + +[Illustration] + +THE CAR + +AND THE LADY + +By GRACE S. MASON and PERCY F. MEGARGEL, + +in which actual experience has been partially interwoven with fiction +in an exciting narrative of a race across the American continent. +Adventure, mistakes, accidents, good fortune, and surprise, follow one +another in rapid succession, keeping the tension of the reader at +excitement pitch until the goal is reached and the prize won--a prize +which at some time in every one's career is quite the only prize on +earth. + +The book contains 276 pages of solid reading matter, printed from +large, new type on good quality of paper, and bound in attractive +paper covers printed in colors. It is for sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +LATEST ADDITIONS + +TO + +OGILVIE'S + +POPULAR + +RAILROAD + +SERIES. + +[Illustration] + +SPRIGGS, THE CRACKSMAN HEADON HILL + +LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT THE "DUCHESS" + +THE TESTING OF OLIVE VAUGHAN P. T. BREBNER + +THE CONFESSIONS OF A PRINCESS ---- ---- + +SELF-RAISED MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +ISHMAEL MRS. E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH + +ONLY A GIRL'S LOVE CHARLES GARVICE + +SAPPHO ALPHONSE DAUDET + +THE HUMOROUS MR. BOWSER M. QUAD + +A BAD BOY'S DIARY BY HIMSELF + +A WOUNDED HEART CHARLES GARVICE + +EAST LYNNE MRS. HENRY WOOD + +THE PEER AND THE WOMAN E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM + +ALONE ON A WIDE, WIDE SEA W. CLARK RUSSELL + +DANGERS OF WORKING GIRLS GRACE MILLER WHITE + +A LOYAL SLAVE GRACE MILLER WHITE + +Any of the above books are for sale by newsdealers everywhere, or they +will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents per copy. +Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +MACON MOORE, + +THE + +SOUTHERN DETECTIVE. + +[Illustration] + +Here is another rattling good book that we unhesitatingly recommend to +every one who enjoys a thrilling detective story. Each chapter +contains a startling episode in the attempt of MACON MOORE to run to +earth a gang of moonshiners in Southern Georgia, whose business was +that of manufacturing illicit whisky. + +His capture by the "Night Riders," and his daring escape from them at +their meeting in the Valley of Death, forms one of the many exciting +incidents of the story. + +One of our readers writes to us as follows: + + "I was absolutely unable to stop reading "Macon Moore" until + I had finished it. I expected to read for an hour or so, but + the situations were so dramatic and exciting at the end of + each chapter, that before I knew it I had started the next + one. I have read it three times, once while practicing + exercises on the piano, and shall read it again. It is a + corker." + +The book contains 250 pages, is bound in paper covers, and will be +sent to any address by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents. +Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +_READ IT! READ IT! READ IT!_ + +[Illustration] + +THE ASHES OF LOVE. + +... BY ... + +CHARLES GARVICE, + +The Matchless Magician of Fiction. + +UNPARALLELED IN INTEREST! + +UNEQUALLED IN ITS + +THRILLING SITUATIONS! + +Unsurpassed in Dramatic Intensity + +This Marvellous Story of Love, + +Passion, Mystery, Intrigue + +and Adventure Holds the + +Reader Spell-bound. + +From the pastoral beauty and palatial mansions of a northern clime, we +follow hero and heroine, with breathless interest, to the sun-scorched +veldt and arid plains of Southern Africa. + +On two continents we watch the battle between VIRTUE AND +VILLAINY--HONOR AND RASCALITY--JUSTICE AND KNAVERY. + +By the magic art of the author we are transformed from mere readers, +and become actual participants in a life drama of tremendous +interest--a drama which stirs every fibre of our being and sends the +blood coursing like a mill-race through the tense arteries of a +spell-bound body. + +THE CONVENTIONAL SCORNED! + +THE COMMONPLACE SPURNED! + +New Faces! New Types! New Scenes! New Thrills! + +SEIZE THE GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY HERE AND NOW. + +Don't Procrastinate! Don't Delay! But Buy and Read this + +Stupendous Masterpiece of Matchless Fiction. + +PRICE, 25 CENTS. + +The Ashes of Love contains nearly 450 pages of solid reading matter, +printed in large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers +with attractive cover design in two colors. It is for sale by +newsdealers and booksellers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, +postpaid, upon receipt of 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +Do You Enjoy + +A Good Story of the Western Plains? + +If So, Don't Fail to Read + +[Illustration] + +The Pride of the Rancho. + +By HENRY E. SMITH. + +_12mo, 192 Pages. Price, Paper Bound_, + +_25 Cents; Bound in Cloth, $1.00._ + +The story is founded upon his play of the same name. + +The scene is laid in the West, where two college men have gone in +quest of health, and found it. It shows two manly, unselfish +characters, such as the youth of the present day might well emulate. + +It is full of the air, the love, and the excitement of the plains. The +plot is fascinating and the love story charming. + +A pretty romance is woven into the narrative, portraying the personal +charms and clever attractiveness of the Western girl, even though the +daughter of a ranchman. It carries a good moral throughout and is +eminently attractive to both young and old. + +The book contains 192 pages, with a frontispiece illustration. Price, +paper bound, 25 cents; bound in cloth, $1.00. For sale by all +booksellers and newsdealers, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price. + + * * * * * + +Eureka Detective Series + +[Illustration] + +All of the books in the Eureka Series are clever detective stories, +and each one of those mentioned below has received the heartiest +recommendation. Ask for the Eureka Series detective books. + +1. Inspector Henderson, the Central Office Detective. By H. I. Hancock + +2. His Evil Eye. By Harrie I. Hancock + +3. Detective Johnson of New Orleans. By H. I. Hancock + +4. Harry Blount, the Detective. By T. J. Flanagan + +5. Harry Sharp, the New York Detective. By H. Rockwood + +6. Private Detective No. 39. By John W. Postgate + +7. Not Guilty. By the author of "The Original Mr. Jacobs" + +8. A Confederate Spy. By Capt. Thos. N. Conrad + +9. A Study in Scarlet. By A. Conan Doyle + +10. The Unwilling Bride. By Fergus W. Hume + +11. The Man Who Vanished. By Fergus W. Hume + +12. The Lone Inn. By Fergus W. Hume + +13. The World's Finger. By T. Hanshew + +14. Tour of the World in Eighty Days. By Jules Verne + +15. The Frozen Pirate. By W. Clark Russell + +16. Mystery of a Hansom Cab. By Fergus W. Hume + +17. A Close Call. By J. L. Berry + +18. No. 99; A Detective Story. By Arthur Griffith + +19. The Sign of the Four. By A. Conan Doyle + +20. The Mystery of the Montauk Mills. By E. L. Coolidge + +21. The Mountain Limited. By E. L. Coolidge + +22. Gilt-Edge Tom, Conductor. By E. L. Coolidge + +23. The Mossbank Murder. By Harry Mills + +24. The Woman Stealer. By Harry Mills + +25. King Dan, The Factory Detective. By G. W. Goode + +See other advertisement for other list of titles in the Eureka Series. + +You can obtain the Eureka Series books where you bought this one, or +we will mail them to you, postpaid, for 25 cents each, or any five for +$1.00. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +NEW YORK'S LATEST SENSATION + +We have just issued in novel form + +the story of + +THE DEVIL, + +founded upon the successful and much discussed play of the same name +by + +FERENC MOLNAR, + +as produced by + +HENRY W. SAVAGE. + +The title is startling. The story is not so startling as the title +would indicate. It is a strongly moral one, showing in a vivid, +realistic manner the result of evil thinking. The Devil in this story +is evil thinking materialized. + +The scene centers in Vienna, and deals with the early love of a poor +artist and a poorer maiden. As the years go by the artist achieves +distinction, and the maiden becomes the wife of a millionaire +merchant--with very little romance in his composition, but thoroughly +devoted to his young and beautiful bride. + +Seven years later the artist (who has been received as a valued friend +of the family) is commissioned to paint the wife's portrait--and the +old love re-asserts itself. For a while the issue is problematical; +but stability of character conquers, and the ending is quite as the +heart would wish. + +The book also contains an article by the noted author, Ella Wheeler +Wilcox, pointing out the strong moral to be deduced. + +It contains 190 pages, printed in large, clear type on best quality of +book paper, with eight half-tone illustrations from the play. Price, +handsomely bound in cloth, 50 cents, net, postage 10 cents additional; +bound in paper covers, 25 cents, postpaid. + +For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail +upon receipt of price. + + * * * * * + +OGILVIE'S POPULAR COPYRIGHT LINE + +THE NEW MAYOR + +A Novel + +Founded upon GEORGE BROADHURST'S play + +The Man of the Hour + +Handsomely bound in cloth and stamped in colors, containing 250 pages +with twelve illustrations from the play + +Price 50 cents, net, postage 10 cents additional + +It has been issued under the title of THE NEW MAYOR, in order not to +conflict with a book published under the title, The Man of the Hour. + +Thousands of people have not had the opportunity of seeing the play, +and to them, as well as to those who have seen it, we desire to +announce that we are the authorized publishers of the Story of George +Broadhurst's Play in book form. There is already an enormous demand +for this book, owing to the fact that the play is meeting with such a +tremendous success, having been presented in New York for over six +hundred consecutive performances, with four companies on tour +throughout the United States. + +The play has received the highest praise and commendation from critics +and the press, a few of which we give herewith: + + "THE FINEST PLAY I EVER SAW."--Ex-President Roosevelt. + + "The best in years."--_N. Y. Telegram._ + + "A perfect success."--_N. Y. Sun._ + + "A triumph."--_N. Y. American._ + + "Best play yet."--_N. Y. Commercial._ + + "A sensation."--_N. Y. Herald._ + + "An apt appeal."--_N. Y Globe._ + + "A straight hit."--_N. Y. World._ + + "A play worth while."--_N. Y. News._ + + "Means something."--_N. Y. Tribune._ + + "An object lesson."--_N. Y. Post._ + +This novel is a strong story of politics, love, and graft, and appeals +powerfully to every true American. + +SENT BY MAIL, POSTAGE PAID, FOR 60 CENTS. + +Be sure to get the book founded on the play. + +You can buy this at any bookstore or direct from us. + + * * * * * + +THE BIG NOISE! THE LOUD SCREAM! THE TALL HOLLER! + +[Illustration] + +You Will Laugh, You Will Yell, + +You Will Scream at + +THE BLUNDERS OF + +A BASHFUL MAN + +The World's Champion + +Funny Book. + +READ IT! READ IT! READ IT! + +It eradicates wrinkles, banishes care, and by its laughter-compelling +mirth and irresistible humor rejuvenates the whole body. Whether you +are a bashful man or not, you should read + +THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN. + +In this screamingly funny volume the reader follows, with rapt +attention and hilarious delight, the mishaps, mortifications, +confusions, and agonizing mental and physical distresses of a +self-conscious, hypersensitive, appallingly bashful young man, in a +succession of astounding accidents, and ludicrous predicaments, that +convulse the reader with cyclonic laughter, causing him to hold both +sides for fear of exploding from an excess of uproarious merriment. + +All records beaten as a fun-maker, rib-tickler, and laugh-provoker. +This marvellous volume of merriment proves melancholy an impostor, and +grim care a joke. With joyous gales of mirth it dissipates gloom and +banishes trouble. + +YOU WANT IT! YOU CANNOT DO WITHOUT IT! + +Better Than Drugs! Better Than Vaudeville! + +A WHOLE CIRCUS IN ITSELF! + +The Time, the Place, the Opportunity is Here! + +BUY IT NOW! + +THE BLUNDERS OF A BASHFUL MAN contains 170 solid pages of reading +matter, illustrated, is bound in heavy lithographed paper covers, and +will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address on receipt of price, 25 +cents. Address orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +SYMPATHY AROUSED! SENTIMENT CULTIVATED! + +LONGING SATISFIED! + +LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT. + +[Illustration] + +By "THE DUCHESS." + +Author of "Molly Bawn," "The Honorable Mrs. Vereker," Etc. + +"The Duchess" is famous as an author of those stories which delight +the heart and mind of young women readers through the artistic +word-painting of scenes and incidents which arouse interest, stimulate +desire, and satisfy the appetite for mental diversion, recreation, +entertainment, and pleasure. + +LADY VERNER'S FLIGHT is no exception to her reputed ability; in fact, +in it she quite surpasses her own standard, and the reader follows +with breathless interest the vicissitudes and trials that mark the +course of this pure story of English life in which there are no less +than three love affairs going on at the same time. + +WITHOUT A PARALLEL IN INTEREST! + +ABOUNDING IN TENSE SITUATIONS! + +REPLETE WITH THRILLING INCIDENTS! + +TRUE TO LIFE! + +You read this book with delight, and finish it with a sigh! + +Now is the time to secure a copy! + +Don't delay, but buy and read this masterpiece of fiction! + +The book contains 310 solid pages of reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +THE SHADOW OF A CROSS. + +BY + +MRS. DORA NELSON + +AND + +F. C. HENDERSCHOTT. + +[Illustration] + +"The sweetest American story ever written," wrote one critic in +reviewing the story, which first appeared as a serial in a magazine of +large circulation. A strong inquiry for the novel in book form +developed, and we have just issued the book to meet this demand. + +The story is wholly American in sentiment, and every chapter appeals +to the reader's sympathies, as the whole book pulsates with pure and +cherished ideals. The love theme is sweet and intensely interesting. +Through the political fight, the victory and the defeat, the love +thread is never lost sight of. The intense struggle in the heart of +the heroine between her Church and her lover is of such deep human +interest, that it holds the reader in ardent sympathy until the happy +solution, when the reader smiles, wipes the moisture from the eyes, +and breathes happily again. + +While the narrative is intensely interesting, it is more; it instructs +and educates. To read it is to feel improved and delighted. Don't miss +this treat; it is one of the very best American stories of recent +years. + +The book is printed on best quality of laid book paper, contains +nearly 200 pages, and is bound in paper covers with handsome +illustration. It will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon +receipt of price, 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +LAUGH! YELL! SCREAM! + +Read It! Read It! Read It! + +A Bad + +Boy's Diary + +By "LITTLE GEORGIE," + +The Laughing Cyclone. + +[Illustration] + +THE FUNNIEST BOOK EVER WRITTEN! + +In this matchless volume of irresistible, rib-tickling fun, the Bad +Boy, an incarnate but lovable imp of mischief, records his daily +exploits, experiences, pranks and adventures, through all of which you +follow him with an absorbing interest that never flags, stopping only +when convulsions of laughter and aching sides force the mirth-swept +body to take an involuntary respite from a feast of fun, stupendous +and overwhelming. + +In the pages of this excruciatingly funny narrative can be found the +elixir of youth for all man and womankind. The magic of its pages +compel the old to become young, the careworn gay, and carking trouble +hides its gloomy head and flies away on the blithesome wings of +uncontrollable laughter. + +IT MAKES YOU A BOY AGAIN! + +IT MAKES LIFE WORTH WHILE! + +For old or young it is a tonic and sure cure for the blues. The BAD +BOY'S DIARY is making the whole world scream with laughter. Get in +line and laugh too. BUY IT TO-DAY! It contains 276 solid pages of +reading matter, illustrated, is bound in lithographed paper covers, +and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address on receipt of +price, 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +The World's Finger + +is the title of the most absorbing detective narrative ever written. + +[Illustration] + +One would not surmise from the title that such was the fact; but the +closing chapter of the book gives the clue to its meaning: "I swore to +my father on his death-bed that The World's Finger should never point +to a Davanant as amongst the list of known convicts, and that oath I +will keep." + +T. W. HANSHEW is the author, and a writer of more exciting and +sensational detective stories cannot be found at the present day. + +One reader writes: "I thought I would read a chapter or two of THE +WORLD'S FINGER, to see what it was all about. I soon found out, and it +was two o'clock in the morning before I lay it down, having read it to +the end at one sitting. It certainly is a corker." + +Bound in paper covers; price, 25 cents. Sent by mail to any address +upon receipt of price. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +STOP! HALT! ATTENTION! + +Read the most astounding and exciting love story of the age + +ONLY A + +GIRL'S LOVE + +BY + +CHARLES GARVICE. + +IT + +ENRAPTURES! ENTRANCES! + +THRILLS! DELIGHTS! + +[Illustration] + +In this intensely dramatic and thrilling love story, we watch with +bated breath the unfolding of a high life drama of absorbing interest. +Rank and wealth, pride and prejudice, vice and villainy, combine in a +desperate and determined effort to break off a romantic and thrilling +love match, the development, temporary rupture and final consummation +of which, by the genius of the author, we are, with spell-bound +interest, tense arteries and throbbing hearts privileged to witness. +This desperate attempt to halt the course of true love and dam the +well-springs of an ardent and romantic affection, will be watched by +the reader with a boundless and untiring interest. + +New Scenes! New Faces! New Features! New Thrills! + +SECURE THIS SUPERB NOVEL + +and learn for yourself the result of this astounding battle of true +love against terrific odds. + +FICTION LOVERS, NOVEL READERS, TAKE NOTICE! + +Just What You Are Looking For! + +A story that grips the heart and holds the reader spell-bound from +start to finish! + +A MENTAL FEAST, A LITERARY BANQUET! + +You Want It! You Cannot Do Without It! Buy It To-day! Now! + +The book contains 380 pages of solid reading matter, bound in +attractive paper cover, printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price, 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +THRILLING! ABSORBING! DELIGHTFUL! + +The Story Sensation of the Year! + +A WOUNDED HEART + +BY + +CHARLES GARVICE, + +Author of "The Ashes of Love," "A Woman's Soul," Etc. + +It Grips! It Holds! It Thrills! + +[Illustration] + +By the magic pen of the author we are carried through the seductive +and intricate mazes of a thrilling and romantic life drama of +unparalleled interest. + +In beautiful England, sunny France, and distant Australia, we watch +the movements of life-like, splendidly drawn flesh and blood +characters, and follow their fortunes with a zealous devotion that +never flags. + +With breathless interest we witness the struggle for an ancestral +home, which finally passes into the possession of the scion of a noble +house, the rightful heir, Sir Herrick Powis, thanks to the sacrifices +of the heroine, than whom no more entrancing and beautiful character +exists in the whole range of modern fiction. The ending of the story +is, of course, a happy one, but this is not achieved until the +trusting heart of the heroine has been sorely wounded, and she has +passed through trials and tribulations, which win for her the love and +sympathy of the spell-bound reader. + +REPLETE WITH THRILLING INCIDENTS! + +Teeming With Heart Interest and Dramatic Action! + +NEW! NOVEL! UNIQUE! + +You Read this Book with Delight! You Lay It Down with a Sigh! + +BUY IT! BUY IT! BUY IT! TO-DAY! NOW! + +The book contains 400 pages of solid reading matter bound in +attractive paper cover printed in colors. For sale by booksellers and +newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +Price, 25 Cents. + + * * * * * + +100 STORIES + +IN BLACK + +BY BRIDGES SMITH. + +Not in years, if ever, have we seen or read anything which approaches +the stories in this book for real, true depiction of character of the +Southern darkey of the present day. They are full of humor and +entertainment, and absolutely true to life both as to the incidents +related, and the language used. The latter is so true, in fact, that +our compositor who set the type for the book, said that he had never +before seen anything like the diction and spelling. + +The author held for some years the position of City Clerk in the +Mayor's Office of the City of Macon, Georgia, where opportunities were +presented for full and complete observation of the people in the world +of which he writes. + +The stories originally appeared in the "Macon Daily Telegraph," but +the demand for them in book form was so great that we have now issued +them in permanent binding. + +The book contains 320 pages with illustrations, and is bound in paper +covers with attractive and appropriate cover design. Retail price, 25 +cents. For sale by booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by +mail, postpaid, upon receipt of price. + + * * * * * + +THIS IS IT! IT!! IT!!! + +A WOMAN'S SOUL + +By CHARLES GARVICE. + +[Illustration] + +A Literary Sensation! + +A Matchless Masterpiece! + +The Big Noise of Fiction! + +A Story that Grips the Heart! + +A Story that Stirs the Soul! + +Guided by a master hand we watch with bated breath the unfolding of a +story of unparalleled interest. Ever the unexpected happens, surprise +follows surprise, plot is succeeded by counterplot. Vice and virtue, +honor and knavery, true love and duplicity, struggle desperately and +incessantly for mastery until the mind is bewildered and the heart and +soul are stirred to their very depths. + +Swept irresistibly along the seductive and entrancing streams of +romantic fiction, never for one instant is the reader's interest +allowed to flag. When almost exhausted with the thrilling nature of +the narrative, the end of this matchless story is reached, and it is +then with a sigh of regret the reader bids adieu to characters that +have woven themselves around his heart, and have become part and +parcel of his very life. + +UNPARALLELED AND UNSURPASSED! + +New, Novel, and Unconventional! + +AWAY FROM THE BEATEN TRACK OF FICTION! + +Classy! Unique! The Story of the Century! + +READ IT! BUY IT! JUDGE FOR YOURSELF! + +_PRICE, 25 CENTS._ + +A WOMAN'S SOUL contains 326 pages of solid reading matter, printed in +large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers with +attractive cover design in two colors. For sale by newsdealers and +booksellers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, upon receipt of 25 +cents. + + * * * * * + +The Most Popular Book In + +America To-Day + +--IS-- + +"ST. ELMO," + +--BY-- + +AUGUSTA J. EVANS, + +[Illustration] + +The history of this Book is remarkable. It was first published nearly +45 years ago, and met with a fair measure of success; but it was not +until within the last three years that it achieved special prominence, +since which time over half a million copies have been sold. + +It is hard to account for this wonderful jump into popularity at the +present time, except for the fact that the story is one of real merit, +and is now doubly recognized as such. It is a mark of signal +distinction for the author, to think that she wrote a story so much +ahead of the times. + +The story is founded upon the never-old theme of love--the pure love +of a good woman--and shows the wonders that can be accomplished with +and through it, even to the extent of the reclamation of an extremely +talented and extraordinary man having a predilection for evil and sin. + +No story written in years has aroused the discussion that this book +has. + +Can you afford to miss it? + +Do you want to keep abreast of the times, and read what other people +are talking about? Then buy and read "ST. ELMO." + +The book contains 440 pages, bound in paper cover. For sale by +booksellers and newsdealers everywhere, or sent by mail, postpaid, +upon receipt of price, 25 CENTS. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration] + +DON'T MISS IT! DON'T MISS IT!! DON'T MISS IT!!! + +=FATE= + +By CHARLES GARVICE, + +Regal Ruler of the Resplendent + +Realm of Romance. + +Tremendous in its Interest. + +Weird and Witchingly Fascinating in Plot and Action. + +Tense In Its Astounding Situations. + +It Grips! Amazes!! Thrills!!! + +IT TUGS AT THE HEART STRINGS AND HOLDS ONE + +CAPTIVE FROM COVER TO COVER. + +In this astounding story of unparalleled interest, we see the sinister +figure of FATE stalk deviously but relentlessly through the mystifying +mazes of love, devotion, intrigue, cunning, cruelty and crime, until a +conscienceless fiend, in human shape, lies prostrate in death, +overwhelmed by the ruthless forces of his own creating. + +Right, truth, justice and love dashed to earth by desperate villainy +and inconceivable cunning, finally triumph in the face of crimes that +crush, and difficulties that overwhelm. + +The reader breathes a sigh of relief that hero and heroine, who have +wound themselves about his heart, are once more happily united, and +that + +LOVE, THE CONQUEROR, WINS AT LAST. + +This story of love, passion, mystery and revenge, makes the sluggish +blood course wildly through every artery of the spell-bound frame. + +It awakens every emotion of the human heart, and sweeps the vibrant +chords of sympathy and compassion. The book you need. The book you +must have. To-day! Now!! Here!!! + +PRICE, 25 CENTS. + +"Fate" contains over 450 pages of solid reading matter, printed in +large type on good quality of paper, bound in paper covers with +attractive cover design in two colors. It is for sale by newsdealers +and booksellers everywhere, or will be sent by mail, postpaid, upon +receipt of 25 cents. + + * * * * * + +VAIL'S DREAM BOOK + +AND + +COMPLETE FORTUNE TELLER + +By J. R. & A. M. VAIL + +You dream like everyone else does, but can you interpret them--do you +understand what your dream portends? If you wish to know what it +means, you should buy this book, which contains the full and correct +interpretation of all dreams and their lucky numbers. This book is +also the most complete fortune teller on the market. + +We give herewith a partial list of the contents: + +Dreams and Their Interpretations. + +Palmistry, or Telling Fortunes by the Lines of the Hand. + +Fortune Telling by the Grounds in a Tea or Coffee Cup. + +How to Read Your Fortunes by the White of an Egg. + +How to Determine the Lucky and Unlucky Days of any Month in the Year. + +How to Ascertain Whether You will Marry Soon. + +Fortune Telling by Cards, including the Italian Method. + +A Chapter on Somniloquism and Spiritual Mediums. + +The book contains 128 pages, size 7-5/8 x 5-1/4 set in new, large, +clear type, and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon +receipt of 25 cents. For sale where you bought this book. + + * * * * * + +LOVE--COURTSHIP--MARRIAGE. + +[Illustration] + +This is the newest and most up-to-date book on these subjects. It +explains how girls may become happy wives, bachelors become happy +husbands. It includes a treatise on "The Etiquette of Marriage," +describing invitations, the dresses, the ceremony, and the proper +behavior of bride and groom. + +In addition to the above there is a most brilliant editorial entitled +"The Real Divorce Question"; also an article giving statistics, dates, +etc., entitled "Alarming Growth of the Divorce Evil," by the +well-known writer, Rev. Thomas B. Gregory; and, lastly, an editorial +entitled "Woman's Dignity," which should be read by every woman in the +country. If the young people of this country would read and study +these serious subjects before marriage the now-popular divorce would +soon become a thing of the past. Remember, from some one little thing +in this book you may be spared a life of misery. 125 pages, paper +bound; postpaid, 25 cents. + +LOVE AND COURTSHIP CARDS. + +Sparking, Courting, and Love-making made easy with these cards. They +are arranged with such apt conversation that you will be able to find +out whether a girl loves you or not without her even thinking that you +are doing so. These cards may be used by two persons only, or they can +be used to entertain an evening party of young people. There are sixty +cards in all, and each answer will respond differently to every one of +the questions. Sent by mail, postpaid, for 30 cents. + +Either of the above will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of +price by J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 57 Rose Street, New York. + + * * * * * + +JUST OUT + +TEMPTATIONS OF THE STAGE. + +There is probably no other book of this kind on the market that tells +so much truth from Stage Life as does this one. If there is, we do not +know of it. We herewith give the contents and leave you to draw your +own conclusions:-- + +[Illustration] + +Ever in the Limelight. + +"Propinquity" _versus_ "Association." + +Flattery. + +See How it Sparkles. + +Gambling--Drugs. + +Dangerous Pitfalls on the Road to Success. + +My Narrow Escape. _By Della Fox._ + +Girls in Burlesque Companies. _By May Howard._ + +A Nation at Her Feet. _By Pauline Markham._ + +Jane Hading's Career. _By Herself._ + +A Woman's Blighted Life. _By Jennie O'Neill Potter._ + +Cigarette Smoking. + +A Unique Sensation. _By Nina Farrington._ + +Yvette Guilbert's Songs. + +A Tragic End. + +Triumphs and Failures. _By Isabelle Urquhart._ + +A Mad Career. + +Likes to Wear Tights. _By Jessie Bartlett Davis._ + +Jolly Jennie Joyce. + +Thorns of Stage Life. _By Maud Gregory._ + +The Stage is Not Degenerating. _By Eva Mudge._ + +Ethics of Stage Morality. _By Jessie Olivier._ + +Stage-Door Johnnies. + +The Pace That Kills. + +Cure For the Stage Struck. + +Stage Love Letters. _Mlle. Fougere._ + +Stock Companies. + +From Tights to Tea Parties. + +In Other Walks. + +The above book contains 128 pages, bound in paper cover handsomely +illustrated in colors, and will be sent by mail, postpaid, to any +address upon receipt of 25 cents. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P.O. Box 767, 57 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. + + * * * * * + +OLD WITCHES' DREAM BOOK + +AND + +COMPLETE FORTUNE TELLER. + +You dream like everyone else does, but can you interpret them--do you +understand what your dream portends? If you wish to know what it +means, you should buy this book, which contains the full and correct +interpretation of all dreams and their lucky numbers. This book is +also the most complete fortune teller on the market. + +We give herewith a partial list of the contents: + +Dreams and Their Interpretations. + +Palmistry, or Telling Fortunes by the Lines of the Hand. + +Fortune Telling by the Grounds in a Tea or Coffee Cup. + +How to Read Your Fortune by the White of an Egg. + +How to Determine the Lucky and Unlucky Days of any Month in the Year. + +How to Ascertain Whether You will Marry Soon. + +Fortune Telling by Cards, Including the Italian Method. + +The book contains 128 pages, set in new, large, clear type, and will +be sent by mail, postpaid, to any address upon receipt of 25 cents in +U. S. stamps or postal money order. Address all orders to + +J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, + +P. O. 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