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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Dreamers, by John Kendrick Bangs
+
+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 Dreamers
+       A Club
+
+Author: John Kendrick Bangs
+
+Illustrator: Edward Penfield
+
+Release Date: February 23, 2011 [EBook #35374]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DREAMERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Steve Read, Suzanne Shell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: Cronkey Gudehart
+                        [Page 103
+  THE FIRST GLOOMSTER]
+
+
+
+
+  THE DREAMERS
+  A Club. _Being a More or Less Faithful
+  Account of the Literary Exercises
+  of the First Regular Meeting
+  of that Organization, Reported by_
+  JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+  _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
+  _By_ EDWARD PENFIELD
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+  NEW YORK AND LONDON
+  HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
+  1899
+
+
+
+
+  BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
+
+     PEEPS AT PEOPLE. Passages from the Writings of Anne Warrington
+     Witherup, Journalist. Illustrated by EDWARD PENFIELD. 16mo, Cloth,
+     Ornamental, Uncut Edges and Colored Top, $1.25.
+
+     GHOSTS I HAVE MET, AND SOME OTHERS. With Illustrations by NEWELL,
+     FROST, and RICHARDS. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.
+
+     A HOUSE-BOAT ON THE STYX. Being Some Account of the Divers Doings
+     of the Associated Shades. Illustrated by PETER NEWELL. 16mo, Cloth,
+     Ornamental, $1.25.
+
+     THE PURSUIT OF THE HOUSE-BOAT. Being Some Further Account of the
+     Doings of the Associated Shades, under the Leadership of Sherlock
+     Holmes, Esq. Illustrated by PETER NEWELL. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental,
+     $1.25.
+
+     PASTE JEWELS. Being Seven Tales of Domestic Woe. 16mo, Cloth,
+     Ornamental $1.00.
+
+     THE BICYCLERS, AND THREE OTHER FARCES. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth,
+     Ornamental, $1.25.
+
+     A REBELLIOUS HEROINE. A Story. Illustrated by W. T. SMEDLEY. 16mo,
+     Cloth, Ornamental, Uncut Edges, $1.25.
+
+     MR. BONAPARTE OF CORSICA. Illustrated by H. W. MCVICKAR. 16mo,
+     Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.
+
+     THE WATER GHOST, AND OTHERS. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental,
+     $1.25.
+
+     THE IDIOT. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00.
+
+     THREE WEEKS IN POLITICS. Illustrated. 32mo, Cloth, Ornamental, 50
+     cents.
+
+     COFFEE AND REPARTEE. Illustrated. 32mo, Cloth, Ornamental, 50
+     cents.
+
+  NEW YORK AND LONDON:
+  HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS.
+
+
+  Copyright, 1899, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
+  _All rights reserved._
+
+
+
+
+  Dedicated
+  WITH ALL
+  DUE RESPECT AND PROPER APOLOGIES
+
+  TO
+
+  RICHARD HARDING DAVIS
+  JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
+  WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS
+  RUDYARD KIPLING
+  HALL CAINE
+  SUNDRY MAGAZINE POETS
+  ANTHONY HOPE
+  THE WAR CORRESPONDENTS
+  A. CONAN DOYLE
+  IAN MACLAREN
+  JAMES M. BARRIE
+  THE INVOLVULAR CLUB
+  AND
+  MR. DOOLEY
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                                                         PAGE
+     I. THE IDEA                                                     1
+    II. IN WHICH THOMAS SNOBBE, ESQ., OF YONKERS, UNFOLDS A TALE    21
+   III. IN WHICH A MINCE-PIE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR A REMARKABLE
+            COINCIDENCE                                             44
+    IV. BEING THE CONTRIBUTION OF MR. BEDFORD PARKE                 59
+     V. THE SALVATION OF FINDLAYSON                                 80
+    VI. IN WHICH HARRY SNOBBE RECITES A TALE OF GLOOM              102
+   VII. THE DREAMERS DISCUSS A MAGAZINE POEM                       123
+  VIII. DOLLY VISITS CHICAGO                                       142
+    IX. IN WHICH YELLOW JOURNALISM CREEPS IN                       163
+     X. THE MYSTERY OF PINKHAM'S DIAMOND STUD                      185
+    XI. LANG TAMMAS AND DRUMSHEUGH SWEAR OFF                       207
+   XII. CONCLUSION--LIKEWISE MR. BILLY JONES                       228
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                                  PAGE
+  THE FIRST GLOOMSTER                                   _Frontispiece_
+  DISCUSSING THE IDEA                                                3
+  AND SO TO DREAM                                                   17
+  THE DREAMERS DINE                                                 25
+  "'REMEMBER TO BE BRAVE'"                                          35
+  "'ELEANOR HUYLER HAS DISAPPEARED'"                                39
+  "WRIT A POME ABOUT A KID"                                         47
+  "I BOUGHT A BOOK OF VERSE"                                        51
+  "IT FILLED ME WITH DISMAY"                                        55
+  "'COME IN'"                                                       61
+  MARY                                                              65
+  EDWARDS REBELS                                                    71
+  THE VICEROY EXAMINES HIS RUINED SMILE                             85
+  THEY GAVE HIM _PUNCH_                                             89
+  THE DONKEY ENGINE CALLS ON FINDLAYSON                             93
+  THE END OF THE GLOOMSTER                                         109
+  WISHED HER A HAPPY NEW-YEAR                                      117
+  "'O ARGENT-BROWED SARCOPHAGUS'"                                  125
+  "_SARCOPHAGUSTUS_"                                               131
+  MR. BILLY JONES                                                  137
+  "'I MUST SEE HIM,' SAID DOLLY"                                   145
+  "'KAPE YOUR HOOSBAND HOME'"                                      155
+  MIXING ILLUSTRATIONS                                             159
+  THE SHIP'S BARBER AT WORK                                        167
+  A CLEVER CAROM                                                   177
+  SINKING THE _CASTILLA_                                           181
+  THE LAMP-POSTS WERE TWISTED                                      191
+  HOLMES IN DISGUISE INTERVIEWS WATTLES                            199
+  "'YOU DID TOO!' SAID POLLY"                                      203
+  "'HOOT MON!'"                                                    209
+  "A SWEET-FACED NURSE APPEARED"                                   213
+  TAMMAS MEETS DRUMSHEUGH                                          221
+  MR. JONES BEGINS                                                 231
+  HE DID NOT SEE                                                   243
+  THE STENOGRAPHER SLEPT                                           247
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: The Dreamers: A Club]
+
+
+
+
+THE DREAMERS: A CLUB
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+THE IDEA
+
+
+The idea was certainly an original one. It was Bedford Parke who
+suggested it to Tenafly Paterson, and Tenafly was so pleased with it
+that he in turn unfolded it in detail to his friend Dobbs Ferry,
+claiming its inception as his very own. Dobbs was so extremely
+enthusiastic about it that he invited Tenafly to a luncheon at the
+Waldoria to talk over the possibilities of putting the plan into
+practical operation, and so extract from it whatever of excellence it
+might ultimately be found to contain.
+
+"As yet it is only an idea, you know," said Dobbs; "and if you have ever
+had any experience with ideas, Tenny, you are probably aware that,
+unless reduced to a practical basis, an idea is of no more value than a
+theory."
+
+"True," Tenafly replied. "I can demonstrate that in five minutes at the
+Waldoria. For instance, you see, Dobbsy, I have an idea that I am as
+hungry as a bear, but as yet it is only a theory, from which I derive no
+substantial benefit. Place a portion of whitebait, a filet Bearnaise,
+and a quart of Sauterne before me, and--"
+
+"I see," said Dobbsy. "Come along."
+
+[Illustration: DISCUSSING THE IDEA]
+
+And they went; and the result of that luncheon at the Waldoria was the
+formation of "The Dreamers: A Club." The colon was Dobbs Ferry's
+suggestion. The objects of the club were literary, and Dobbs, who was an
+observant young man, had noticed that the use of the colon in these days
+of unregenerate punctuation was confined almost entirely to the literary
+contingent and its camp-followers. With small poets particularly was
+it in vogue, and Dobbs--who, by-the-way, had written some very dainty
+French poems to the various _fiancees_ with whom his career had been
+checkered--had a sort of vague idea that if his brokerage business would
+permit him to take the necessary time for it he might become famous as a
+small poet himself. The French poems and his passion for the colon,
+combined with an exquisite chirography which he had assiduously
+cultivated, all contributed to assure him that it was only lack of time
+that kept him in the ranks of the mute, inglorious Herricks.
+
+As formulated by Dobbs and Tenafly, then, Bedford Parke's suggestion
+that a Dreamers' Club be formed was amplified into this: Thirteen choice
+spirits, consisting of Dobbs, Tenafly, Bedford Parke, Greenwich Place,
+Hudson Rivers of Hastings, Monty St. Vincent, Fulton Streete, Berkeley
+Hights, Haarlem Bridge, the three Snobbes of Yonkers--Tom, Dick, and
+Harry--and Billy Jones of the _Weekly Oracle_, were to form themselves
+into an association which should endeavor to extract whatever latent
+literary talent the thirteen members might have within them. It was a
+generally accepted fact, Bedford Parke had said, that all literature,
+not even excepting history, was based upon the imagination. Many of the
+masterpieces of fiction had their basis in actual dreams, and, when they
+were not founded on such, might in every case be said to be directly
+attributable to what might properly be called waking dreams. It was the
+misfortune of the thirteen gentlemen who were expected to join this
+association that the business and social engagements of all, with the
+possible exception of Billy Jones of the _Weekly Oracle_, were such as
+to prevent their indulgence in these waking dreams, dreams which should
+tend to lower the colors of Howells before those of Tenafly Paterson,
+and cause the memory of Hawthorne to wither away before the scorching
+rays of that rising sun of genius, Tom Snobbe of Yonkers. Snobbe,
+by-the-way, must have inherited literary ability from his father, who
+had once edited a church-fair paper which ran through six editions in
+one week--one edition a day for each day of the fair--adding an
+unreceipted printer's bill for eighty-seven dollars to the proceeds to
+be divided among the heathen of Central Africa.
+
+"It's a well-known fact," said Bedford--"a sad fact, but still a
+fact--that if Poe had not been a hard drinker he never would have
+amounted to a row of beans as a writer. His dreams were induced--and I
+say, what's the matter with our inducing dreams and then putting 'em
+down?"
+
+That was the scheme in a nutshell--to induce dreams and put them down.
+The receipt was a simple one. The club was to meet once a month, and eat
+and drink "such stuff as dreams are made of"; the meeting was then to
+adjourn, the members going immediately home and to bed; the dreams of
+each were to be carefully noted in their every detail, and at the
+following meeting were to be unfolded such soul-harrowing tales as
+might with propriety be based thereon. An important part of the
+programme was a stenographer, whose duty it would be to take down the
+stories as they were told and put them in type-written form, which Dobbs
+was sure he had heard an editor say was one of the first steps towards a
+favorable consideration by professional readers of the manuscripts of
+the ambitious.
+
+"I am told," said he, "that many a truly meritorious production has gone
+unpublished for years because the labor of deciphering the author's
+handwriting proved too much for the reader's endurance--and it is very
+natural that it should be so. A professional reader is, after all, only
+human, and when to the responsibilities of his office is added the
+wearisome task of wading through a Spencerian morass after the
+will-o'-wisp of an idea, I don't blame him for getting impatient. Why, I
+saw the original manuscript of one of Charles Dickens's novels once, and
+I don't see how any one knew it was good enough to publish until it got
+into print!"
+
+"That's simply a proof of what I've always said," observed one of the
+Snobbe boys. "If Charles Dickens's works had been written by me, no one
+would ever have published them."
+
+"I haven't a doubt of it," returned Billy Jones of the _Oracle_, dryly.
+"Why, Snobbey, my boy, I believe if you had written the plays of
+Shakespeare they'd have been forgotten ages ago!"
+
+"So do I," returned Snobbe, innocently. "This is a queer world."
+
+"The stenographer will save us a great deal of trouble," said Bedford.
+"The hard part of literary work is, after all, the labor of production
+in a manual sense. These real geniuses don't have to think. Their ideas
+come to them, and they let 'em develop themselves. In realistic writing,
+as I understand it, the author sits down with his pen in his hand and
+his characters in his mind's eye, and they simply run along, and he does
+the private-detective act--follows after them and jots down all they
+do. In imaginative writing it's done the same way. The characters of
+these ridiculous beings we read of are quite as real to the imaginative
+writer as the characters of the realist are to the latter, and they do
+supernatural things naturally. So you see these things require very
+little intellectual labor. It's merely the drudgery of chasing a
+commonplace or supernatural set of characters about the world in order
+to get 400 pages full of reading-matter about 'em that makes the
+literary profession a laborious one. Our stenographer will enable us to
+avoid all this. There isn't a man of us but can talk as easily as he can
+fall off a log, and a tale once told at our dinners becomes in the
+telling a bit of writing."
+
+"But, my dear Parke," said Billy Jones of the _Oracle_, who had been a
+"literary journalist," as his fond grandmother called it, for some
+years, "a story told is hardly likely to be in the form calculated to
+become literature."
+
+"That's just what we want you for, Billy," Bedford replied. "You know
+how to give a thing that last finishing-touch which will make it go,
+where otherwise it might forever remain a fixture in the author's
+pigeon-hole. When our stories are told and type-written, we want you to
+go over them, correct the type-writer's spelling, and make whatever
+alterations you may think, after consulting with us, to be necessary.
+Then, if the tales are ever published as a collection, you can have your
+name on the title-page as editor."
+
+"Thanks," answered Billy, gratefully. "I shall be charmed."
+
+And then he hurried back to his apartments, and threw himself on his bed
+in a paroxysm of laughter which seemed never-ending, but which in
+reality did not last more than three hours at the most.
+
+Hudson Rivers of Hastings, when the idea was suggested to him, was the
+most enthusiastic of all--so enthusiastic that the Snobbe boys thought
+that, in their own parlance, he ought to be "called down."
+
+"It's bad form to go crazy over an idea," they said. "If Huddy's going
+to behave this way about it, he ought to be kept out altogether. It is
+all very well to experience emotions, but no well-bred person ever shows
+them--that is, not in Yonkers."
+
+"Ah, but you don't understand Huddy," said Tenafly Paterson. "Huddy has
+two great ambitions in this life. One is to get into the Authors' Club,
+and the other is to marry a certain young woman whose home is in Boston
+and whose ambitions are Bostonian. To appear before the world as a
+writer, which the Dreamers will give him a chance to do at small
+expense, will help him on to the realization of his most cherished
+hopes; in fact, Huddy told me that he thought we ought to publish the
+proceedings of the club at least four times a year, so establishing a
+quarterly magazine, to which we shall all be regular contributors. He
+thinks it will pay for itself, and knows it will make us all famous,
+because Billy Jones is certain to see that everything that goes out is
+first chop, and I'm inclined to believe Huddy is right. The continual
+drip, drip, drip of a drop of water on a stone will gradually wear away
+the stone, and, by Jove! before we know it, by constant hammering away
+at this dream scheme of ours we'll gain a position that won't be
+altogether unenviable."
+
+"That's so," said Billy. "I wouldn't wonder if with the constant drip,
+drip, drip of your drops of ink and inspiration you could wear the
+public out in a very little while. The only troublesome thing will be in
+getting a publisher for your quarterly."
+
+"I haven't any idea that we want a publisher," said Bedford Parke.
+"We've got capital enough among ourselves to bring the thing out, and so
+I say, what's the use of letting anybody else in on the profits? A
+publisher wouldn't give us more than ten per cent. in royalties. If we
+publish it ourselves we'll get the whole thing."
+
+"Yes," assented Tom Snobbe, "and, what's more, it will have a higher
+tone to it if we can say on the title-page 'Privately printed,' eh?
+That'll make everybody in society want one for his library, and
+everybody not in society will be crazy to get it because it's
+aristocratic all through."
+
+"I hadn't thought of that," said Billy Jones. "I've no doubt you are
+right, only I'd think you'd sell more copies if you'd also put on the
+title-page 'For circulation among the elite only.' Then every man,
+woman, or child who happened to get a copy would take pride in showing
+it to others, who would immediately send for it, because not having it
+would seem to indicate that one was not in the swim."
+
+Nor were the others to whom the proposition was advanced any less
+desirous to take part. They saw, one and all, opportunities for a very
+desirable distinction through the medium of the Dreamers, and within two
+weeks of the original formation of the plan the club was definitely
+organized. Physicians were consulted by the various members as to what
+edibles contained the properties most likely to produce dreams of the
+nature desired, and at the organization meeting all but Billy Jones were
+well stocked with suggestions for the inauguration dinner. Hudson Rivers
+was of the opinion that there should be six courses at that dinner, each
+one of Welsh-rabbit, but varying in form, such as Welsh-rabbit puree,
+for instance, in which the cheese should have the consistency of
+pea-soup rather than of leather; such as Welsh-rabbit pate, in which the
+cheese should rest within walls of pastry instead of lying quiescent and
+inviting like a yellow mantle upon a piece of toast; then a Welsh-rabbit
+roast; and so on all through the banquet, rabbit upon rabbit, the whole
+washed down with the accepted wines of the ordinary banquet, which
+experience had taught them were likely in themselves to assist in the
+work of dream-making.
+
+[Illustration: AND SO TO DREAM]
+
+Monty St. Vincent observed that he had no doubt that the Welsh-rabbit
+dinner would work wonders, but he confessed his inability to see any
+reason why the club should begin its labors by committing suicide. He
+added that, for his part, he would not eat six Welsh rabbits at one
+sitting if he was sure of Shakespeare's immortality as his reward,
+because, however attractive immortality was, he preferred mortality in
+the flesh to the other in the abstract. If the gentlemen would begin the
+meal with a grilled lobster apiece, he suggested, going thence by an
+easy stage to a devilled bird, rounding up with a "slip-on"--which, in
+brief, is a piece of mince-pie smothered in a blanket of molten
+cheese--he was ready to take the plunge, but further than this he would
+not go. The other members were disposed to agree with Monty. They
+thought the idea of eating six Welsh rabbits in a single evening was
+preposterous, and that in making such a suggestion Huddy was inspired by
+one of but two possible motives--that he wished to leap to the foremost
+position in imaginative literature at one bound, or else was prompted,
+by jealousy of what the others might do, to wish to kill the club at its
+very start. Huddy denied these aspersions upon his motives with
+vociferous indignation, and to show his sincerity readily acquiesced in
+the adoption of Monty St. Vincent's menu as already outlined.
+
+The date of the dinner was set, Billy Jones was made master of
+ceremonies, the dinner was ordered, and eaten amid scenes of such
+revelry as was possible in the presence of the Snobbe boys, to whom
+anything in the way of unrestrained enjoyment was a bore and bad form,
+and at its conclusion the revellers went straight home to bed and to
+dream.
+
+Two weeks later they met again over viands of a more digestible nature
+than those which lent interest to the first dinner, and told the tales
+which follow. And I desire to add here that my report of this dinner and
+the literature there produced is based entirely upon the stenographer's
+notes, coupled with additional information of an interesting kind
+furnished me by my friend William Jones, Esq., Third Assistant Exchange
+Editor of _The Weekly Oracle, a Journal of To-day, Yesterday, and
+To-morrow_.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+IN WHICH THOMAS SNOBBE, ESQ., OF YONKERS, UNFOLDS A TALE
+
+
+The second dinner of the Dreamers had been served, all but the coffee,
+when Mr. Billy Jones, of the _Oracle_, rapped upon the table with a
+dessert-spoon and called the members to order.
+
+"Gentlemen," said he, when all was quiet, "we have reached the crucial
+crisis of our club career. We have eaten the stuff of which our dreams
+were to be made, and from what I can gather from the reports of those
+who are now seated about this festal board--and I am delighted to note
+that the full membership of our organization is here represented--there
+is not a single one of you who is unprepared for the work we have in
+hand, and, as master of ceremonies, it becomes my pleasant duty to
+inform you that the hour has arrived at which it behooveth us to begin
+the narration of those tales which--of those tales which I am
+certain--yes, gentlemen, very certain--will cause the unlaid ghosts of
+those masters of the story-tellers' art--"
+
+"Is this a continued story Billy is giving us?" observed Tenafly
+Paterson.
+
+"No," replied Bedford Parke, with a laugh; "it is only a life sentence."
+
+"Get him to commute it!" ejaculated Hudson Rivers.
+
+"Order, gentlemen, order!" cried the master of ceremonies, again rapping
+upon the table. "The members will kindly not interrupt the speaker. As I
+was saying, gentlemen," he continued, "we are now to listen to the
+narration of tales which I am convinced will cause the unlaid ghosts of
+the past grand masters of the story-tellers' art to gnash their spirit
+teeth with anguish for that they in life failed to realize the
+opportunities that were theirs in not having told the tales to which we
+are about to listen, and over which, when published, the leading living
+literary lights will writhe in jealousy."
+
+When the applause which greeted these remarks had subsided, Mr. Jones
+resumed:
+
+"That there may be no question of precedence among the gifted persons
+from whom we are now to hear, I have provided myself with a small
+leathern bottle, such as is to be seen in most billiard-parlors, within
+which I have placed twelve numbered ivory balls. These I will now
+proceed to distribute among you. When you receive them, I request that
+you immediately return them to me, that I may arrange the programme
+according to your respective numbers."
+
+Mr. Jones thereupon distributed the ivory balls, and when the returns
+had been made, according to his request, he again rose to his feet and
+announced that to Mr. Thomas Snobbe, of Yonkers, had fallen the lot of
+telling the first story, adding that he took great pleasure in the
+slightly supererogative task that devolved upon him of presenting Mr.
+Snobbe to his audience. Mr. Snobbe's health was drunk vociferously,
+after which, the stenographer having announced himself as ready to
+begin, the distinguished son of Yonkers arose and told the following
+story, which he called
+
+  VAN SQUIBBER'S FAILURE
+
+[Illustration: THE DREAMERS DINE]
+
+You can't always tell what kind of a day you are going to have in town
+in October just because you happen to have been in town on previous
+October days, and Van Squibber, for that reason, was not surprised when
+his man, on waking him, informed him that it was cold out. Even if he
+had been surprised he would not have shown it, for fear of demoralizing
+his man by setting him a bad example. "We must take things as they
+come," Van Squibber had said to the fellow when he engaged him, "and I
+shall expect you to be ready always for any emergency that may arise.
+If on waking in the morning I call for a camel's-hair shawl and a bottle
+of Nepaul pepper, it will be your duty to see that I get them without
+manifesting the slightest surprise or asking any questions. Here is your
+next year's salary in advance. Get my Melton overcoat and my box, and
+have them at the Rahway station at 7.15 to-morrow morning. If I am not
+there, don't wait for me, but come back here and boil my egg at once."
+
+This small bit of a lecture had had its effect on the man, to whom
+thenceforth nothing was impossible; indeed, upon this very occasion he
+demonstrated to his employer his sterling worth, for when, on looking
+over Van Squibber's wardrobe, he discovered that his master had no
+Melton overcoat, he telegraphed to his tailor's and had one made from
+his previous measure in time to have it with Van Squibber's box at the
+Rahway station at the stipulated hour the following morning. Of course
+Van Squibber was not there. He had instructed his man as he had simply
+to test him, and, furthermore, the egg was boiled to perfection. The
+test cost Van Squibber about $150, but it was successful, and it was
+really worth the money to know that his man was all that he should be.
+
+"He's not half bad," said Van Squibber, as he cracked the egg.
+
+"It's wintry," said Van Squibber's man on the morning of the 5th of
+October.
+
+"Well," Van Squibber said, sleepily, "what of that? You have your
+instructions as to the bodily temperature I desire to maintain. Select
+my clothing, as usual--and mark you, man, yesterday was springy, and you
+let me go to the club in summery attire. I was two and a half degrees
+too warm. You are getting careless. What are my engagements to-day?"
+
+"University settlement at eleven, luncheon at the Actors' at one, drive
+with the cynical Miss Netherwood at three, five-o'clock tea at four--"
+
+"What?" cried Van Squibber, sharply.
+
+"At fuf--five, I should say, sir," stammered the embarrassed man.
+
+"Thought so," said Van Squibber. "Proceed, and be more careful. The very
+idea of five-o'clock tea at four is shocking."
+
+"Dinner with the Austrian ambassador at eight, opera at eleven--"
+
+"In October? Opera?" cried Van Squibber.
+
+"Comic," said the man. "It is Flopper's last night, sir, and you are to
+ring down the curtain."
+
+"True," said Van Squibber, meditatively--"true; I'd forgotten. And
+then?"
+
+"At midnight you are to meet Red Mike at Cherry Street and Broadway to
+accompany him to see how he robs national banks, for the _Sunday
+Whirald_."
+
+"What bank is it to be?"
+
+"The Seventeenth National."
+
+"Gad!" cried Van Squibber, "that's hard luck. It's my bank. Wire Red
+Mike and ask him to make it the Sixteenth National, at once. Bring me my
+smoking-jacket and a boiled soda mint drop. I don't care for any
+breakfast this morning. And, by-the-way, I feel a little chilly. Take a
+quinine pill for me."
+
+"Your egg is ready, sir," said the man, tremulously.
+
+"Eat it," said Van Squibber, tersely, "and deduct the Cafe Savarin price
+of a boiled egg from your salary. How often must I tell you not to have
+my breakfast boiled until I am boil--I mean ready until I am ready for
+it?"
+
+The man departed silently, and Van Squibber turned over and went to
+sleep.
+
+An hour later, having waited for his soda mint drop as long as his
+dignity would permit, Van Squibber arose and dressed and went for a walk
+in Central Park. It was eccentric of him to do this, but he did it
+nevertheless.
+
+"How Travers would laugh if he saw me walking in Central Park!" he
+thought. "He'd probably ask me when I'd come over from Germany," he
+added. And then, looking ahead, a thing Van Squibber rarely did,
+by-the-way--for you can't always tell by looking ahead what may happen
+to you--his eyes were confronted by a more or less familiar back.
+
+"Dear me!" he said. "If that isn't Eleanor Huyler's back, whose back is
+it, by Jove?"
+
+Insensibly Van Squibber quickened his pace. This was also a thing he
+rarely did. "Haste is bad form," he had once said to Travers, who, on
+leaving Delmonico's at 7.20, seemed anxious to catch the 7.10 train for
+Riverdale. Insensibly quickening his pace, he soon found himself beside
+the owner of the back, and, as his premonitions had told him, it was
+Eleanor Huyler.
+
+"Good-morning," he said.
+
+"Why, Mr. Van Squibber!" she replied, with a terrified smile. "You
+here?"
+
+"Well," returned Van Squibber, not anxious to commit himself, "I think
+so, though I assure you, Miss Huyler, I am not at all certain. I seem to
+be here, but I must confess I am not quite myself this morning. My
+man--"
+
+"Yes--I know," returned the girl, hastily. "I've heard of him. He is
+your _alter ego_."
+
+"I had not noticed it," said Van Squibber, somewhat nonplussed. "I think
+he is English, though he may be Italian, as you suggest. But," he added,
+to change the subject, "you seem disturbed. Your smile is a terrified
+smile, as has been already noted."
+
+"It is," said Miss Huyler, looking anxiously about her.
+
+"And may I ask why?" asked Van Squibber, politely--for to do things
+politely was Van Squibber's ambition.
+
+"I--I--well, really, Mr. Van Squibber," the girl replied, "I am always
+anxious when you are about. The fact is, you know, the things that
+happen when you are around are always so very extraordinary. I came here
+for a quiet walk, but now that you have appeared I am quite certain that
+something dramatic is about to occur. You see--you--you have turned up
+so often at the--what I may properly call, I think, the nick of time,
+and so rarely at any other time, that I feel as though some disaster
+were impending which you alone can avert."
+
+"And what then?" said Van Squibber, proudly. "If I am here, what bodes
+disaster?"
+
+"That is the question I am asking myself," returned Miss Huyler, whose
+growing anxiety was more or less painful to witness. "Can your luck hold
+out? Will your ability as an averter of danger hold out? In short, Mr.
+Van Squibber, are you infallible?"
+
+The question came to Van Squibber like a flash of lightning out of a
+clear sky. It was too pertinent. Had he not often wondered himself as to
+his infallibility? Had he not only the day before said to Travers, "You
+can't always tell in advance just how a thing you are going into may
+turn out, even though you have been through that thing many times, and
+think you do."
+
+"I do lead a dramatic life," he said, quietly, hoping by a show of
+serenity to reassure her. "But," he added, proudly, "I am, after all,
+Van Squibber; I am here to do whatever is sent me to do. I am not a
+fatalist, but I regard myself as the chosen instrument of fate--or
+something. So far, I have not failed. On the basis of averages, I am not
+likely to fail now. Fate, or something, has chosen me to succeed."
+
+"That is true," said Eleanor--"quite true; but there are exceptions to
+all rules, and I would rather you would fail to rescue some other girl
+from a position of peril than myself."
+
+That Miss Huyler's words were prophetic, the unhappy Van Squibber was to
+realize, and that soon, for almost as they spoke the cheeks of both were
+blanched by a dreadful roar in the bushes beside the path upon which
+they walked.
+
+"Shall I leave you?" asked Van Squibber, politely.
+
+[Illustration: "'REMEMBER TO BE BRAVE'"]
+
+"Not now--oh, not now, I beg!" cried Miss Huyler. "It is too late. The
+catastrophe is imminent. You should have gone before the author
+brought it on. Finding me defenceless and you gone, he might have spared
+me. As it is, you are here, and must fulfil your destiny."
+
+"Very well," returned Van Squibber. "That being so, I will see what this
+roaring is. If it is a child endeavoring to frighten you, I shall get
+his address and have my man chastise his father, for I could never
+strike a child; but if it is a lion, as I fear, I shall do what seems
+best under the circumstances. I have been told, Miss Huyler, that a show
+of bravery awes a wild beast, while a manifestation of cowardice causes
+him to spring at once upon the coward. Therefore, if it be a lion, do
+you walk boldly up to him and evince a cool head, while I divert his
+attention from you by running away. In this way you, at least, will be
+saved."
+
+"Noble fellow!" thought Eleanor to herself. "If he were to ask me, I
+think I might marry him."
+
+Meanwhile Van Squibber had investigated, and was horror-struck to find
+his misgivings entirely too well founded. It was the lion from the park
+menagerie that had escaped, and was now waiting in ambush to pounce upon
+the chance pedestrian.
+
+"Remember, Eleanor," he cried, forgetting for the moment that he had
+never called her by any but her last name with its formal
+prefix--"remember to be brave. That will awe him, and then when he sees
+me running he will pursue me."
+
+[Illustration: "'ELEANOR HUYLER HAS DISAPPEARED'"]
+
+Removing his shoes, Van Squibber, with a cry which brought the hungry
+beast bounding out into the path, started on a dead run, while Miss
+Huyler, full of confidence that the story would end happily whatever she
+might do, walked boldly up to the tawny creature, wondering much,
+however, why her rescuer had removed his shoes. It was strange that,
+knowing Van Squibber as well as she did, she did not at once perceive
+his motive in declining to run in walking-shoes, but in moments of peril
+we are all excusable for our vagaries of thought! You never can tell,
+when you are in danger, what may happen next, for if you could you
+would know how it is all going to turn out; but as it is, mental
+disturbance is quite to be expected.
+
+For once Van Squibber failed. He ran fast enough and betrayed enough
+cowardice to attract the attention of ten lions, but this special lion,
+by some fearful idiosyncrasy of fate, which you never can count on, was
+not to be deceived. With a louder roar than any he had given, he pounced
+upon the brave woman, and in an instant she was no more. Van Squibber,
+turning to see how matters stood, was just in time to witness the final
+engulfment of the fair girl in the lion's jaws.
+
+"Egad!" he cried. "_I have failed!_ And now what remains to be done?
+Shall I return and fight the lion, or shall I keep on and go to the
+club? If I kill the lion, people will know that I have been walking in
+the park before breakfast. If I continue my present path and go to the
+club, the fellows will all want to know what I mean by coming without
+my shoes on. What a dilemma! Ah! I have it; I will go home."
+
+And that is what Van Squibber did. He went back to his rooms in the
+Quigmore at once, hastily undressed, and when, an hour later, his man
+returned with the soda mint drop, he was sleeping peacefully.
+
+That night he met Travers at the club reading the _Evening Moon_.
+
+"Hello, Van!" said Travers. "Heard the news?"
+
+"No. What?" asked Van Squibber, languidly.
+
+"Eleanor Huyler has disappeared."
+
+"By Jove!" cried Van Squibber, with well-feigned surprise. "I heard the
+boys crying 'Extra,' but I never dreamed they would put out an extra for
+her."
+
+"They haven't," said Travers. "The extra's about the lion."
+
+"Ah! And what's happened to the lion?" cried Van Squibber, nervously.
+
+"He's dead. Got loose this morning early, and was found at ten o'clock
+dying of indigestion. It is supposed he has devoured some man, name
+unknown, for before his nose was an uneaten patent-leather pump, size
+9-3/4 B, and in his throat was stuck the other, half eaten."
+
+"Ha!" muttered Van Squibber, turning pale. "And they don't know whose
+shoes they were?" he added, in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"No," said Travers. "There's no clew, even."
+
+Van Squibber breathed a sigh of relief.
+
+"Robert!" he cried, addressing the waiter, "bring me a schooner of
+absinthe, and ask Mr. Travers what he'll have." And then, turning, he
+said, _sotto voce_, to himself, "Saved! And Eleanor is revenged. Van
+Squibber may have failed, but his patent-leather pumps have conquered."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+IN WHICH A MINCE-PIE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR A REMARKABLE COINCIDENCE
+
+
+When Mr. Snobbe sat down after the narration of his story, there was a
+thunderous outburst of applause. It was evident that the exciting
+narrative had pleased his fellow-diners very much--as, indeed, it was
+proper that it should, since it dealt in a veiled sort of way with
+characters for whom all right-minded persons have not only a deep-seated
+admiration, but a feeling of affection as well. They had, one and all,
+in common with the unaffected portion of the reading community, a liking
+for the wholesome and clean humor of Mr. Van Bibber, and the fact that
+Snobbe's story suggested a certain original, even in a weak sort of
+fashion, made them like it in spite of its shortcomings.
+
+"Good work," cried Hudson Rivers. "Of course it's only gas in comparison
+with the sun, but it gives light, and we like it."
+
+"And it's wholly original, too, even though an imitation in manner. The
+real Van Bibber never failed in anything he undertook," said Tenafly
+Paterson. "I've often wished he might have, just once--it would have
+made him seem more human--and for that reason I think Tom is entitled to
+praise."
+
+"I don't know about that," observed Monty St. Vincent. "Tom hadn't
+anything to do with it--it was the dinner. Honor to whom honor is due,
+say I. Praise the cook, or the caterer."
+
+"That's the truth," put in Billie Jones. "Fact is, when this book of
+ours comes out, I think, instead of putting our names on the title-page
+as authors, the thing to do is to print the menu."
+
+"You miss the point of this association," interjected Snobbe. "We
+haven't banded ourselves together to immortalize a Welsh rabbit or a
+mince-pie--nay, nor even a ruddy duck. It's our own glory we're after."
+
+"That's it," cried Monty St. Vincent--"that's the beauty of it. The
+scheme works two ways. If the stuff is good and there is glory in it,
+we'll have the glory; but if it's bad, we'll blame the dinner. That's
+what I like about it."
+
+"It's a valuable plan from that point of view," said the presiding
+officer. "And now, if the gentleman who secured the ball numbered two
+will make himself known, we will proceed."
+
+Hudson Rivers rose up. "I have number two," he said, "but I have nothing
+to relate. The coffee I drank kept me awake all night, and when I
+finally slept, along about six o'clock next morning, it was one of those
+sweet, dreamless sleeps that we all love so much. I must therefore ask
+to be excused."
+
+[Illustration: "WRIT A POME ABOUT A KID"]
+
+"But how shall you be represented in the book?" asked Mr. Harry Snobbe.
+
+"He can do the table of contents," suggested St. Vincent.
+
+"Or the fly-leaves," said Tenafly Paterson.
+
+"No," said Huddy; "I shall ask that the pages I should have filled be
+left blank. There is nothing helps a book so much as the leaving of
+something to the reader's imagination. I heard a great critic say so
+once. He said that was the strong point of the French writers, and he
+added that Stockton's _Lady or the Tiger_ took hold because Stockton
+didn't insist on telling everything."
+
+"It's a good idea," said Mr. Jones. "I don't know but that if those
+pages are left blank they'll be the most interesting in the book."
+
+Mr. Rivers sat down with a smile of conscious pride, whereupon Mr.
+Tenafly Paterson rose up.
+
+"As I hold the number three ball, I will give you the fruits of my
+dinner. I attribute the work which I am about to present to you to the
+mince-pie. Personally, I am a great admirer of certain latter-day poets
+who deal with the woes and joys of more or less commonplace persons. I
+myself would rather read a sonnet to a snow-shovel than an ode to the
+moon, but in my dream I seem to have conceived a violent hatred for
+authors of homely verse, as you will note when I have finished reading
+my dream-poem called 'Retribution.'"
+
+"Great Scott!" murmured Billie Jones, with a deep-drawn sigh. "Poetry!
+From Tenafly Paterson! Of all the afflictions of man, Job could have
+known no worse."
+
+"The poem reads as follows," continued Paterson, ignoring the chairman's
+ill-timed remark:
+
+[Illustration: "I BOUGHT A BOOK OF VERSE"]
+
+
+RETRIBUTION
+
+    Writ a pome about a kid.
+    Finest one I ever did.
+
+    Heaped it full o' sentiment--
+    Very best I could invent.
+
+    Talked about his little toys;
+    How he played with other boys;
+
+    How the beasts an' birdies all
+    Come when little Jamie'd call.
+
+    'N' 'en I took that little lad,
+    Gave him fever, mighty bad.
+
+    'N' 'en it sorter pleased my whim
+    To have him die and bury him.
+
+    It got printed, too, it did
+    That small pome about the kid,
+
+    In a paper in the West;
+    Put ten dollars in my vest.
+
+    Every pa an' ma about
+    Cried like mighty--cried right out.
+
+    I jess took each grandma's heart,
+    Lammed and bruised it, made it smart;
+
+    'N' everybody said o' me,
+    "Finest pote we ever see,"
+
+    'Cept one beggar, he got mad.
+    Got worst lickin' ever had;
+
+    Got my head atween his fists,
+    Called me "Prince o' anarchists."
+
+    Clipped me one behind my ear--
+    Laid me up for 'most a year.
+
+    "'Cause," he said, "my poetry
+    'D made his wife an' mother cry;
+
+    "'Twarn't no poet's bizness to
+    Make the wimmin all boo-hoo."
+
+    'N' 'at is why to-day, by Jings!
+    I don't fool with hearts an' things.
+
+    I don't care how high the bids,
+    I've stopped scribblin' 'bout dead kids;
+
+    'R if I haven't, kinder sorter
+    Think 'at maybe p'r'aps I'd oughter.
+
+The lines were received with hearty appreciation by all save Dobbs
+Ferry, who looked a trifle gloomy.
+
+[Illustration: "IT FILLED ME WITH DISMAY"]
+
+"It is a strange thing," said the latter, "but that mince-pie affected
+me in precisely the same way, as you will see for yourselves when I
+read my contribution, which, holding ball number four as I do, I will
+proceed to give you."
+
+Mr. Ferry then read the following poem, which certainly did seem to
+indicate that the man who prepared the fatal pie had certain literary
+ideas which he mixed in with other ingredients:
+
+    I bought a book of verse the other day,
+    And when I read, it filled me with dismay.
+
+    I wanted it to take home to my wife,
+    To bring a bit of joy into her life;
+
+    And I'd been told the author of those pomes
+    Was called the laureate of simple homes.
+
+    But, Jove! I read, and found it full of rhyme
+    That kept my eyes a-filling all the time.
+
+    One told about a pretty little miss
+    Whose father had denied a simple kiss,
+
+    And as she left, unhappy, full of cares,
+    She fell and broke her neck upon the stairs.
+
+    And then he wrote a lot of tearful lines
+    Of children who had trouble with their spines;
+
+    And 'stead of joys, he penned so many woes
+    I sought him out and gave him curvature 'f the nose;
+
+    And all the nation, witnessing his plight,
+    Did crown me King, and cry, "It served him right."
+
+"A remarkable coincidence," said Thomas Snobbe. "In fact, the
+coincidence is rather more remarkable than the poetry."
+
+"It certainly is," said Billie Jones; "but what a wonderfully suggestive
+pie, considering that it was a mince!"
+
+After which dictum the presiding officer called upon the holder of the
+fifth ball, who turned out to be none other than Bedford Parke, who
+blushingly rose up and delivered himself of what he called "The
+Overcoat, a Magazine Farce."
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+BEING THE CONTRIBUTION OF MR. BEDFORD PARKE
+
+THE OVERCOAT
+
+A FARCE. IN TWO SCENES
+
+
+SCENE FIRST
+
+_Time_: MORNING AT BOSTON
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "I think it will rain to-day, but there is no
+need to worry about that. Robert has his umbrella and his mackintosh,
+and I don't think he is idiotic enough to lend both of them. If he does,
+he'll get wet, that's all." Mrs. Edwards is speaking to herself in the
+sewing-room of the apartment occupied by herself and her husband in the
+Hotel Hammingbell at Boston. It is not a large room, but cosey. A
+frieze one foot deep runs about the ceiling, and there is a carpet on
+the floor. Three pins are seen scattered about the room, in one corner
+of which is a cane-bottomed chair holding across its back two black
+vests and a cutaway coat. Mrs. Edwards sits before a Wilcox & Wilson
+sewing-machine sewing a button on a light spring overcoat. The overcoat
+has one outside and three inside pockets, and is single-breasted. "It is
+curious," Mrs. Edwards continues, "what men will do with umbrellas and
+mackintoshes on a rainy day. They lend them here and there, and the
+worst part of it is they never remember where." A knock is heard at the
+door. "Who's there?"
+
+_Voice_ (_without_). "Me."
+
+[Illustration: "'COME IN'"]
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards_ (_with a nervous shudder_). "Come in." Enter Mary
+the house-maid. She is becomingly attired in blue alpaca, with green
+ribbons and puffed sleeves. She holds a feather duster in her right
+hand, and in her left is a jar of Royal Worcester. "Mary," Mrs. Edwards
+says, severely, "where are we at?"
+
+_Mary_ (_meekly_). "Boston, ma'am."
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "South Boston or Boston proper?"
+
+_Mary._ "Boston proper, ma'am."
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "Then when I say 'Who's there?' don't say 'Me.'
+That manner of speaking may do at New York, Brooklyn, South Boston, or
+Congress, but at Boston proper it is extremely gauche. 'I' is the word."
+
+_Mary._ "Yes, ma'am; but you know, ma'am, I don't pretend to be
+literary, ma'am, and so these little points baffles I very often." Mrs.
+Edwards sighs, and, walking over to the window, looks out upon the
+trolley-cars for ten minutes; then, picking up one of the pins from the
+floor and putting it in a pink silk pin-cushion which stands next to an
+alarm-clock on the mantel-piece, a marble affair with plain caryatids
+and a brass fender around the hearth, she resumes her seat before the
+sewing-machine, and threads a needle. Then--
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "Well, Mary, what do you want?"
+
+_Mary._ "Please, Mrs. Edwards, the butcher is came, and he says they
+have some very fine perairie-chickens to-day."
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "We don't want any prairie-chickens. The prairies
+are so very vulgar. Tell him never to suggest such a thing again. Have
+we any potatoes in the house?"
+
+_Mary._ "There's three left, ma'am, and two slices of cold roast beef."
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "Then tell him to bring five more potatoes, a
+steak, and--Was all the pickled salmon eaten?"
+
+_Mary._ "All but the can, ma'am."
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "Well--Mr. Edwards is very fond of fish.
+Tell him to bring two boxes of sardines and a bottle of anchovy paste."
+
+_Mary._ "Very well, Mrs. Edwards."
+
+[Illustration: MARY]
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "And--ah--Mary, tell him to bring some Brussels
+sprouts for breakfast. What are you doing with that Worcester vase?"
+
+_Mary._ "I was takin' it to cook, ma'am. Sure she broke the bean-pot
+this mornin', and she wanted somethin' to cook the beans in."
+
+_Mrs. Robert Edwards._ "Oh, I see. Well, take good care of it, Mary.
+It's a rare piece. In fact, I think you'd better leave that here and
+remove the rubber plant from the jardiniere, and let Nora cook the beans
+in that. Times are a little too hard to cook beans in Royal Worcester."
+
+_Mary._ "Very well, ma'am." Mary goes out through the door. Mrs. Edwards
+resumes her sewing. Fifteen minutes elapse, interrupted only by the
+ticking of the alarm-clock and the occasional ringing of the bell on
+passing trolley-cars. "If it does rain," Mrs. Edwards says at last, with
+an anxious glance through the window, "I suppose Robert won't care about
+going to see the pantomime to-night. It will be too bad if we don't go,
+for this is the last night of the season, and I've been very anxious to
+renew my acquaintance with 'Humpty Dumpty.' It is so very dramatic, and
+I do so like dramatic things. Even when they happen in my own life I
+like dramatic things. I'll never forget how I enjoyed the thrill that
+came over me, even in my terror, that night last winter when the
+trolley-car broke down in front of this house; and last summer, too,
+when the oar-lock broke in our row-boat thirty-three feet from shore;
+that was a situation that I enjoyed in spite of its peril. How people
+can say that life is humdrum, I can't see. Exciting things, real
+third-act situations, climaxes I might even call them, are always
+happening in my life, and yet some novelists pretend that life is
+humdrum just to excuse their books for being humdrum. I'd just like to
+show these apostles of realism the diary I could have kept if I had
+wanted to. Beginning with the fall my brother George had from the
+hay-wagon, back in 1876, running down through my first meeting with
+Robert, which was romantic enough--he paid my car-fare in from Brookline
+the day I lost my pocket-book--even to yesterday, when an entire
+stranger called me up on the telephone, my life has fairly bubbled with
+dramatic situations that would take the humdrum theory and utterly
+annihilate it." As Mrs. Edwards is speaking she is also sewing the
+button already alluded to on Mr. Edwards's coat as described. "There,"
+taking the last stitch in the coat, "that's done, and now I can go and
+get ready for luncheon." She folds up the coat, glances at the clock,
+and goes out. A half-hour elapses. The silence is broken only by
+occasional noises from the street, the rattling of the wheels of a
+herdic over the pavement, the voices of newsboys, and an occasional
+strawberry-vender's cry. At the end of the half-hour the alarm-clock
+goes off and the curtain falls.
+
+
+SCENE SECOND
+
+_Time_: EVENING AT BOSTON
+
+The scene is laid in the drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Edwards.
+Mrs. Edwards is discovered reading _Pendennis_, and seems in imminent
+danger of going to sleep over it. Mr. Edwards is stretched out upon the
+sofa, quite asleep, with _Ivanhoe_ lying open upon his chest.
+Twenty-five minutes elapse, when the door-bell rings.
+
+_Mr. Edwards_ (_drowsily_). "Let me off at the next corner, conductor."
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "Why, Robert--what nonsense you are talking!"
+
+_Mr. Edwards_ (_rubbing his eyes and sitting up_). "Eh? What? Nonsense?
+I talk nonsense? Really, my dear, that is a serious charge to bring
+against one of the leading characters in a magazine farce. Wit, perhaps,
+I may indulge in, but nonsense, never!"
+
+[Illustration: EDWARDS REBELS]
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "That is precisely what I complain about. The idea of
+a well-established personage like yourself lying off on a sofa in his
+own apartment and asking a conductor to let him off at the next corner!
+It's--"
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "I didn't do anything of the sort."
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "You did, too, Robert Edwards. And I can prove it. If
+you will read back to the opening lines of this scene you will find that
+I have spoken the truth--unless you forgot your lines. If you admit
+that, I have nothing to say, but I will add that if you are going to
+forget lines that give the key-note of the whole situation, you've got
+no business in a farce. You'll make the whole thing fall flat some day,
+and then you will be discharged."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "Well, I wish I might be discharged; I'm tired of the
+whole business. Anybody'd take me for an idiot, the way I have to go on.
+Every bit of fun there is to be had in these farces is based upon some
+predicament into which my idiocy or yours gets me. Are we idiots? I ask
+you that. Are we? You may be, but, Mrs. Edwards, I am not. The idea of
+my falling asleep over _Ivanhoe_! Would I do that if I had my way? Well,
+I guess not! Would I even dare to say 'I guess not' in a magazine farce?
+Again, I guess not. I'm going to write to the editor this very night,
+and resign my situation. I want to be me. I don't want to be what some
+author thinks I ought to be. Do you know what I think?"
+
+_Mrs. Edwards_ (_warningly_). "Take care, Robert. Take care. You aren't
+employed to think."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "Precisely. That's what makes me so immortally mad. The
+author doesn't give me time to think. I could think real thoughts if
+he'd let me, but then! The curtain wouldn't stay up half a second if I
+did that; and where would the farce be? The audience would go home
+tired, because they wouldn't get their nap if the curtain was down. It's
+hard luck; and as for me, I wouldn't keep the position a minute if I
+could get anything else to do. Nobody'd give me work, now that I've been
+made out to be such a confounded jackass. But let's talk of other
+things."
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "I'd love to, Robert--but we can't. There are no other
+things in the farce. The Billises are coming."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "Hang the Billises! Can't we ever have an evening to
+ourselves?"
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "How you do talk! How can we? There's got to be some
+action in the farce, and it's the Billis family that draws out our
+peculiarities."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "Well, I'm going out, and you can receive the Billises,
+and if it's necessary for me to say anything to give go to the play, you
+can say it. I make you my proxy."
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "It can't be done, Robert. They are here. The bell rang
+ten minutes ago, and they ought to have got in here five minutes since.
+You can't go out without meeting them in the wings--I mean the
+hallway."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "Lost!"
+
+    _Enter_ MR. _and_ MRS. BILLIS.
+
+_Billis._ "Ah, Edwards! Howdy do? Knew you were home. Saw light in--"
+
+_Mrs. Billis._ "Don't rattle on so, my dear. Speak more slowly, or the
+farce will be over before nine."
+
+_Billis._ "I've got to say my lines, and I'm going to say them my way.
+Ah, Edwards! Howdy do? Knew you were home. Saw light in window. Knew
+your economical spirit. Said to myself must be home, else why gas? He
+doesn't burn gas when he's out. Wake up--"
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "I'm not asleep. Fact is, I am going out."
+
+_Mrs. Billis._ "Out?"
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "Robert!"
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "That's what I said--out. _O-u-t._"
+
+_Billis._ "Not bad idea. Go with you. Where to?"
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "Anywhere--to find a tragedy and take part in it. I'm
+done farcing, my boy."
+
+_Billis_ (_slapping_ Edwards _on back_). "Rah! my position exactly. I'm
+sick of it too. Come ahead. I know that fellow Whoyt--he'll take us in
+and give us a chance."
+
+_Mrs. Billis._ "I've been afraid of this."
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "Robert, consider your family."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "I have; and if I'm to die respected and honored, if my
+family is to have any regard for my memory, I've got to get out of
+farcing. That's all. Did you sew the button on my overcoat?"
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "I did. I'll go get it."
+
+She goes out. Mrs. Billis throws herself sobbing on sofa. Billis dances
+a jig. Forty minutes elapse, during which Billis's dance may be encored.
+Enter Mrs. Edwards, triumphantly, with overcoat.
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "There's your overcoat."
+
+_Mr. Edwards._ "But--but the button isn't sewed on. I can't go out in
+this."
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "I knew it, Robert. I sewed the button on the wrong
+coat."
+
+Billis and Robert fall in a faint. Mrs. Billis rises and smiles,
+grasping Mrs. Edwards's hand fervently.
+
+_Mrs. Billis._ "Noble woman!"
+
+_Mrs. Edwards._ "Yes; I've saved the farce."
+
+_Mrs. Billis._ "You have. For, in spite of these--these strikers--these
+theatric Debses, you--you got in the point! _The button was sewed on the
+wrong overcoat!_"
+
+
+CURTAIN.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"When the farce was finished," said Mr. Parke, "and the applause which
+greeted the fall of the curtain had subsided, I dreamed also the
+following author's note: 'The elapses' in this farce may seem rather
+long, but the reader must remember that it is the author's intention
+that his farce, if acted, should last throughout a whole evening. If it
+were not for the elapses the acting time would be scarcely longer than
+twenty minutes, instead of two hours and a half."
+
+"I mention this," Mr. Parke added, "not only in justification of myself,
+but also as a possible explanation of certain shortcomings in the work
+of the original master. Sometimes the action may seem to drag a trifle,
+but that is not the fault of the author, but of life itself. To be real
+one must be true, and truth is not to be governed by him who holds the
+pen."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Mr. Parke's explanation having been received in a proper and
+appreciative spirit by his fellow-Dreamers, Mr. Jones announced that Mr.
+Monty St. Vincent was the holder of the sixth ball, whereupon Mr. St.
+Vincent arose and delivered himself as follows:
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+THE SALVATION OF FINDLAYSON
+
+     _Being the story told by the holder of the sixth ball, Mr. Monty
+     St. Vincent._
+
+
+A donkey engine, next to a Sophomore at a football match that is going
+his way, is the noisiest thing man ever made, and No. 4-11-44, who
+travelled first-class on the American liner _New York_, was not inclined
+to let anybody forget the fact. He held a commanding position on the
+roof of the deck state-room No. 10, just aft of the forecastle stringer
+No. 3, and over the main jib-stay boom No. 6-7/8, that held the
+rudder-chains in place. All the little Taffrails and Swashbucklers
+looked up to him, and the Capstan loved him like a brother, for he very
+often helped the Capstan to bring the Anchor aboard, when otherwise
+that dissipated bit of iron would have staid out all night. The Port
+Tarpaulins insisted that the Donkey Engine was the greatest humorist
+that ever lived, although the Life Preservers hanging by the rail did
+not like him at all, because he once said they were Irish--"Cork all
+through," said he. Even the Rivets that held the Top Gallant Bilges
+together used to strain their eyes to see the points of the Donkey
+Engine's jokes, and the third Deputy-assistant Piston Rod, No. 683, in
+the hatchway stoke-hole, used to pound the cylinders almost to pieces
+trying to encore the Donkey Engine's comic songs.
+
+The Main Mast used to say that the Donkey Engine was as bright as the
+Starboard Lights, and the Smoke Stack is said to have told the Safety
+Valve that he'd rather give up smoking than lose the constant flow of
+wit the Donkey Engine was always giving forth.
+
+Findlayson discovered all this. After his Bridge had gone safely through
+that terrible ordeal when the Ganges rose and struck for higher tides,
+Findlayson collapsed. The Bridge--But that is another story. This is
+this one, and there is little profit in telling two stories at once,
+especially in a day when one can get the two stories printed separately
+in the several magazines for which one writes exclusively.
+
+After the ordeal of the Kashi Bridge, Findlayson, as I have said,
+collapsed, and it is no wonder, as you will see for yourself when you
+read that other story. As the Main Girder of the Bridge itself wrote
+later to the Suspension Cables of the Brooklyn Bridge, "It's a wonder to
+me that the Sahib didn't have the _Bashi-bazouks_ earlier in the game.
+He suffered a terrible strain that night."
+
+To which the Cables of the Brooklyn Bridge wittily replied that while
+they sympathized with Findlayson, they didn't believe he really knew
+what strain was. "Wait until he has five lines of trolley-cars running
+over him all day and night. That _is_ a strain! He'd be worse cut up
+than ever if he had that. And yet we thrive under it. After all, for
+solid health, it's better to be a Bridge than a Man. When are you coming
+across?"
+
+Now Findlayson might have collapsed a dozen times before the Government
+would have cared enough to give him the vacation he needed. Not that
+Government is callous, like an elephant, but because it is conducted, as
+a witty Cobra once remarked in the jungle as he fascinated a Tigress, by
+a lot of Red Tapirs. Findlayson put in an application for a six months'
+vacation, but by the time the necessary consent had reached him the six
+months were up. Everybody remembers the tale of Dorkins of the Welsh
+Fusileers and his appointment to the Department of the Poloese, how his
+term of office was to be six years, and how by the time his credentials
+reached him his term of office had expired. So with Findlayson. On the
+very date of the expiration of his desired leave he received permission
+to go, and of course could not then do so, because it was too late.
+Fortunately for Findlayson, however, the Viceroy himself happened to be
+passing through, and Findlayson entertained him at a luncheon on the
+Bridge. By some curious mistake, when the nuts and raisins were passed,
+Findlayson had provided a plateful of steel nuts, designed to hold
+rivets in place, instead of the usual assortment of almonds and
+_hiki-ree_.
+
+"This man needs a rest," said the Viceroy, as he broke his front tooth
+trying to crack one of the steel nuts, and he immediately extended
+Findlayson's leave to twenty years without pay, for which Findlayson was
+very grateful.
+
+"What is the matter with the man?" asked the Viceroy, as he drove to the
+station with the practising Jinrikshaw of the place.
+
+[Illustration: THE VICEROY EXAMINES HIS RUINED SMILE]
+
+"It's my professional opinion," replied the Jinrikshaw, "that the Sahib
+has a bad attack of melancholia. He hasn't laughed for six months. If we
+could only get him to laugh, I think he'd recover."
+
+"Then it was not in a jocular spirit that he ruined my teeth with those
+nuts?" demanded the Viceroy, taking a small mirror out of his pocket and
+gazing ruefully on his ruined smile.
+
+"No, your most Excellent Excellency," replied the Jinrikshaw. "The fact
+that he ate five of them himself shows that it was an error, not a
+jest."
+
+It was thus that Findlayson got his vacation, and even to this day the
+Kaskalooloo folk are laughing over his error more heartily than they
+ever laughed over a joke.
+
+A month after leaving his post Findlayson reached London, where he was
+placed under the care of the most famous physicians. They did everything
+they could to make him laugh, without success. _Punch_ was furnished,
+and he read it through day after day, and burst into hysterical weeping.
+They took him to the theatres, and he never even smiled. They secured a
+front seat in the House of Commons for him during important debates, and
+he merely sobbed. They took him to the Army and Navy Stores, and he
+shivered with fear. Even Beerbohm Tree as Lady Macbeth, or whatever role
+it was he was playing at the time, failed to coax the old-time dimple to
+his cheek. His friends began to whisper among themselves that "old
+Findlayson was done for," when Berkeley Hauksbee, who had been with him
+in the Soudan, suggested a voyage to the United States.
+
+"He'll see enough there to laugh at, or I'm an unshod, unbroken,
+saw-backed, shark-eating skate!" he asserted, and as a last resource
+Findlayson was packed, bag and baggage, aboard the liner _New York_.
+
+The first three days out Findlayson was dead to the world. He lay like a
+fallen log in the primeval forest. Stewards were of no avail. Even the
+repeated calls of the doctor, whose apprehensions were aroused, could
+not restore him to life.
+
+[Illustration: THEY GAVE HIM _PUNCH_]
+
+"They'll be sewin' him up in a jute bag and droppin' him overboard if
+he doesn't come to by to-morrow," observed the Water Bottle to the Soap
+Dish, with a sympathetic glance at the prostrate Findlayson.
+
+"He'll be seasicker than ever if they do," returned the Soap Dish. "It's
+a long swim from here to Sandy Hook."
+
+But Findlayson came to in time to avert the catastrophe, and took
+several turns up and down the deck. He played horse-billiards with an
+English curate, but showed no sign of interest or amusement even at the
+curious aspect of the ladies who lay inert in the steamer chairs ranged
+along the deck.
+
+"I'm afraid it's hopeless," said Peroo, his valet, shaking his head
+sadly. "Unless I take him in hand myself." And Peroo was seized with an
+idea.
+
+"I'll do it!" he cried.
+
+He approached Findlayson.
+
+"The Sahib will not laugh," he said. "He will not smile even. He has not
+snickered all day. Take these, then. They're straight opium, but
+there's fun in them."
+
+He took a small zinc bait-box from his fishing-kit and handed it to
+Findlayson, who, on opening it, found a dozen or more brown pellets.
+Hastily swallowing six of them, the sick man turned over in his bunk and
+tried to go to sleep, while Peroo went into the smoking-room for a game
+of _Pok-Kah_ with a party of _Drummerz_ who were crossing to America.
+
+A soft yellow haze suffused the state-room, and Findlayson, nervously
+starting to his feet to see what had caused it, was surprised to find
+himself confronted by a grinning row of Technicalities ranged in a line
+upon the sofa under the port, while seated upon his steamer trunk was
+the Donkey Engine 4-11-44.
+
+"Well, here we are," said the Deck Beam, addressing the Donkey Engine.
+"What are we here for?"
+
+"That's it," said the Capstan. "We've left our places at your command.
+Now, why?"
+
+[Illustration: THE DONKEY ENGINE CALLS ON FINDLAYSON]
+
+"I wanted you to meet my friend Findlayson," said the Donkey Engine.
+"He's a good fellow. Findlayson, let me present you to my
+associates--Mr. Capstan, Mr. Findlayson. And that gentleman over in the
+corner, Mr. Findlayson, is the Starboard Upper Deck Stringer. Rivet,
+come over here and meet Mr. Findlayson. The Davits will be here in a
+minute, and the Centrifugal Bilge Pump will drop in later."
+
+"I'm glad to meet you all," said Findlayson, rather dazed.
+
+"Thought you would be," returned the Donkey Engine. "That's why I asked
+them to come up."
+
+"Do you mind if I smoke in here?" said the Funnel.
+
+"Not a bit," said Findlayson, solemnly. "Let me offer you a cigar."
+
+The party roared at this.
+
+"He doesn't smoke cigars, Fin, old boy," said the Donkey Engine. "Offer
+him a ton of coal Perfectos or a basket of kindling Invincibles and
+he'll take you up. Old Funnel makes a cigarette of a cord of pine logs,
+you know."
+
+"I should think so much smoking would be bad for your nerves," suggested
+Findlayson.
+
+"'Ain't got any," said the Funnel. "I'm only a Flue, you know. Every
+once in a while I do get a sooty feeling inside, but beyond that I don't
+suffer at all."
+
+"Where's the Keel?" asked the Thrust Block, taking off one of his six
+collars, which hurt his neck.
+
+"He can't come up to-night," said the Donkey Engine, with a sly wink at
+Findlayson, who, however, failed to respond. "The Hold is feeling a
+little rocky, and the Keel's got to stay down and steady him."
+
+Findlayson looked blankly at the Donkey Engine. As an Englishman in a
+nervously disordered state, he did not seem quite able to appreciate the
+Donkey Engine's joke. The latter sighed, shook his cylinder a trifle,
+and began again.
+
+"Hear about the Bow Anchor's row with the Captain?" he asked the
+Garboard Strake.
+
+"No," replied the Strake. "Wouldn't he bow?"
+
+"He'd bow all right," said the Donkey Engine, "but he wouldn't ank.
+Result is he's been put in chains."
+
+"Serves him right," said the Bilge Stringer, filling his pipe with
+Findlayson's tooth-powder. "Serves him right. He ought to be chucked
+overboard."
+
+"True," said the Donkey Engine. "An anchor can't be made to ank unless
+you chuck him overboard."
+
+The company roared at this, but Findlayson never cracked a smile.
+
+"That is very true," he said. "In fact, how could an anchor ank, as you
+put it, without being lowered into the sea?"
+
+"It's a bad case," observed Bulwark Plate, in a whisper, to the Upper
+Deck Plank.
+
+"It floors me," said the Plank. "I don't think he'd laugh if his uncle
+died and left him a million."
+
+"Shut up," said the Donkey Engine. "We've got to do it or bust. Let's
+try again."
+
+Then he added, aloud,
+
+"Say, Technicalities, did you ever hear that riddle of the Starboard
+Coal Bunker's?"
+
+The company properly had not.
+
+"Well, the Starboard Coal Bunker got it off at Lady Airshaft's last
+reception at Binks's Ship-yard: 'What's the difference between a
+man-o'-war going through the Suez Canal under tow of a tug-boat and a
+boiler with a capacity of 6000 tons of steam loaded to 7000 tons, with
+no safety-valve, in charge of an engineer who has a certificate from
+Bellevue Hospital showing that he is a good ambulance-driver, but
+supports a widowed mother and seven uncles upon no income to speak of,
+all of which is invested in Spanish fours, bought on a margin of two per
+cent. in a Wall Street bucket-shop conducted by two professional
+card-players from Honolulu under indictment at San Francisco for
+arson?'"
+
+"Tutt!" said the Rudder. "What a chestnut! I was brought up on riddles
+of that kind. _They can't climb a tree._"
+
+"Nope," said the Donkey Engine. "That's not the answer."
+
+"You don't know it yourself," suggested the Funnel.
+
+"Nope," said the Donkey Engine.
+
+"Well, what the deuce is the answer?" said Findlayson, irritably.
+
+"Give it up--the rest of you?" cried the Donkey Engine.
+
+"We do," they roared in chorus.
+
+"I'm surprised at you," said the Donkey Engine. "It's very simple
+indeed. The man-o'-war going through the Suez Canal under tow of a
+tug-boat has a pull--and the other hasn't, don't you know--eh?"
+
+Findlayson scratched his forehead.
+
+"I don't see--" he began.
+
+"There is no reason why you should. You're not feeling well,"
+interrupted the Donkey Engine, "but it's a good riddle--eh?"
+
+"Quite so," said Findlayson.
+
+"It's long, anyhow," said the Screw.
+
+"Which we can't say for to-day's run--only 867 miles?" suggested the
+Donkey Engine, interrogatively.
+
+"It's long enough," growled the Screw.
+
+"It certainly is, if it is reckoned in minutes," retorted the Donkey
+Engine. "I never knew such a long day."
+
+And so they continued in an honest and technical effort to restore
+Findlayson. But he wouldn't laugh, and finally the Screw and the
+Centrifugal Bilge Pump and the Stringers and the other well-meaning
+Technicalities rose up to leave. Day was approaching, and all were
+needed at their various posts.
+
+"Good-night--or good-morning, Findlayson," said the Donkey Engine.
+"We've had a very pleasant night. I am only sorry, however, we cannot
+make you laugh."
+
+"I never laugh," said Findlayson. "But tell me, old chap, are you
+really human? You talk as if you were."
+
+"No," returned the Donkey Engine, sadly. "I am neither fish, flesh, nor
+fowl. I'm a _bivalve--a cockney bivalve_," he added.
+
+"Oh," replied Findlayson, with a gesture of deprecation, "you are not a
+clam!"
+
+"No," the Donkey Engine replied, as with a sudden inspiration; "but I'm
+a hoister."
+
+And Findlayson burst into a paroxysm of mirth--it must be remembered
+that he was English--the like of which the good old liner never heard
+before.
+
+And later, when Peroo returned, having won at _Pok-Kah_ with the
+_Drummerz_, he found his master sleeping like the veriest child.
+
+Findlayson was saved.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+IN WHICH HARRY SNOBBE RECITES A TALE OF GLOOM
+
+
+Monty St. Vincent had no sooner seated himself after telling the
+interesting tale of the Salvation of Findlayson, when Billy Jones, of
+the _Oracle_, rose up and stated that Mr. Harry Snobbe, as the holder of
+the seventh ball, would unfold the truly marvellous story that had come
+to him after the first dinner of the Dreamers.
+
+"Mr. Snobbe requests all persons having nerves to be unstrung to
+unstring them now. His tale, he tells me, is one of intense gloom; but
+how intense the gloom may be, I know not. I will leave it to him to
+show. Gentlemen, Mr. Snobbe."
+
+Mr. Snobbe took the floor, and after a few preliminary remarks, read as
+follows:
+
+
+THE GLOOMSTER
+
+A TALE OF THE ISLE OF MAN
+
+Old Gloomster Goodheart, of Ballyhack, left the Palace of the Bishop of
+Man broken-hearted. The Bishop had summoned him a week previous to show
+cause why he should not be removed from his office of Gloomster, a
+position that had been held by members of his family for ten
+generations, aye, since the days of that ancient founder of the family,
+Cronky Gudehart, of whom tradition states that his mere presence at a
+wedding turned the marriage feast into a seeming funeral ceremony,
+making men and women weep, and on two occasions driving the bride to
+suicide and the groom into the Church. Indeed, Cronky Gudehart was
+himself the first to occupy the office of Gloomster. The office was
+created for his especial benefit, as you will see, for it was the mere
+fact that the two grooms bereft at the altar sought out the consolation
+of the monastery that called the attention of the ecclesiastical
+authorities to the desirability of establishing such a functionary. The
+two grooms were men of wealth, and, had it not been for Cronky
+Gudehart's malign influence, neither they nor their wealth would have
+passed into the control of the Church, a fact which Ramsay Ballawhaine,
+then Bishop of Man, was quick to note and act upon.
+
+"The gloomier the world," said he, "the more transcendently bright will
+Heaven seem; and if we can make Heaven seem bright, the Church will be
+able to declare dividends. Let us spread misery and sorrow. Let us
+destroy the sunshine of life that so gilds with glory the flesh and the
+devil. Let all that is worldly be made to appear mean and vile and
+sordid."
+
+"But how?" Ramsay Ballawhaine was asked. "That is a hard thing to do."
+
+"For some 'twill doubtless so appear, but I have a plan," the Bishop had
+answered. "We have here living, not far from Jellimacksquizzle, the
+veriest spoil-sport in the person of Cronky Gudehart. He has a face that
+would change the August beauties of a sylvan forest into a bleak scene
+of wintry devastation. I am told that when Cronky Gudehart gazes upon a
+rose it withers, and children passing him in the highways run shrieking
+to their mothers, as though escaping from the bogie man of Caine
+Hall--which castle, as you know, has latterly been haunted by horrors
+that surpass the imagination. His voice is like the strident cry of
+doom. Hearing his footsteps, strong men quail and women swoon; and I am
+told that, dressed as Santa Claus, on last Christmas eve he waked up his
+sixteen children, and with a hickory stick belabored one and all until
+they said that mercy was all they wanted for their Yule-tide gifts."
+
+"'Tis true," said the assistant vicar. "'Tis very true; and I happen to
+know, through my own ministrations, that when a beggar-woman from Sodor
+applied to Cronky Gudehart for relief from the sorrows of the world, he
+gave her a bottle of carbolic acid, saying that therein lay the cure of
+all her woes. But what of Cronky and your scheme?"
+
+"Let us establish the office of Gloomster," returned the Bishop. "Set
+apart Nightmare Abbey as his official residence, and pay him a salary to
+go about among the people spreading grief and woe among them until they
+fly in desperation to us who alone can console."
+
+"It's out of sight!" ejaculated the assistant vicar, "and Cronky's just
+the man for the place."
+
+It was thus that the office of Gloomster was instituted. As will be
+seen, the duties of the Gloomster were simple. He was given liberty of
+entrance to all joyous functions in the life of the Isle of Man, social
+or otherwise, and his duties were to ruin pleasure wherever he might
+find it. Cronky Gudehart was installed in the office, and Nightmare
+Abbey was set apart as his official residence. He attended all
+weddings, and spoiled them in so far as he was able. It was his custom,
+when the vicar asked if there was any just reason why these two should
+not be joined together in holy wedlock, to rise up and say that, while
+he had no evidence at hand, he had no doubt there was just cause in
+great plenty, and to suggest that the ceremony should be put off a week
+or ten days while he and his assistants looked into the past records of
+the principals. At funerals he took the other tack, and laughed joyously
+at every manifestation of grief. At hangings he would appear, and dilate
+humorously upon the horrid features thereof; and at afternoon teas he
+would appear clad in black garments from head to foot, and exhort all
+present to beware of the future, and to give up the hollowness and
+vanities of tea and macaroons.
+
+Results were not long in their manifestation. In place of open marriage
+the young people of the isle, to escape the malignant persecution of the
+Gloomster, took up the habit of elopement, and as elopements always end
+in sorrow and regret, the monasteries and nunneries waxed great in the
+land. To avoid funerals, at which the Gloomster's wit was so fearsome a
+thing, the sick or the maimed and the halt fled out into the open sea
+and drowned themselves, and all sociability save that which came from
+book sales and cake auctions--in their very nature destructive of a love
+of life--faded out of the land.
+
+"Cronky Gudehart was an ideal Gloomster," said the Bishop of Man, with a
+sigh, when that worthy spoil-sport, having gone to Africa for a
+vacation, was eaten by cannibals. "We shall not look upon his like
+again."
+
+"I've no doubt he disagreed with the cannibals," sobbed the vicar, as he
+thought over the virtues of the deceased.
+
+[Illustration: THE END OF THE GLOOMSTER]
+
+"None who ate him could escape appendicitis," commented the Bishop,
+wiping a tear from his eye; "and, thank Heaven, the operation for that
+has yet to be invented. Those cannibals have been taken by this time
+from their wicked life."
+
+So it had gone on for ten generations. Cronky had been succeeded by his
+son and by his son's son, and so on. To be Gloomster of the Isle of Man
+had by habit become the prerogative of the Gudehart family until the
+present, when Christian Goodheart found himself summoned before the
+Bishop to show cause why he should not be removed. Hitherto the
+Gloomster had given satisfaction. It would be hard to point to one of
+them--unless we except Eric Goodheart, the one who changed the name from
+Gudehart to Goodheart--who had not filled the island with that kind of
+sorrow that makes life seem hardly worth living. Eric Goodheart had once
+caught his father, "Bully Gudehart," as he was called, in a moment of
+forgetfulness, doing a kindly act to a beggar at the door. A wanderer
+had appeared at the door of Nightmare Abbey in a starving condition, and
+Eric had surprised the Gloomster in the very act of giving the beggar a
+piece of apple-pie. The father found himself suddenly confronted by the
+round, staring eyes of his son, and he was frightened. If it were ever
+known that the Gloomster had done a kindly thing for anybody, he might
+be removed, and Bully Gudehart recognized the fact.
+
+"Come here!" he cried brutally, to Eric, as the beggar marched away
+munching hungrily on the pie. "Come here, you brat! Do you hear? Come
+_here_!" The boy was coming all the while. "You saw?"
+
+"Yes, your Honor," he replied, "I saw. The man said he was nearly dead
+with hunger, and you gave him food."
+
+"No," roared the Gloomster, full of fear, for he knew how small boys
+prattle, "I did not give him food! _I gave him pie!_"
+
+"All right, your Majesty," the boy answered. "You gave him pie. And I
+see now why they call you Bully. For pie is bully, and nothing less."
+
+"My son," the Gloomster responded, seizing a trunk-strap and whacking
+the lad with it forcefully, "you don't understand. Do you know why I
+fed that man?"
+
+"Because he was dying of hunger," replied the lad, ruefully, rubbing his
+back where the trunk-strap had hit him.
+
+"Precisely," said the Gloomster. "If I hadn't given him that pie he'd
+have died on the premises, and I can't afford the expense of having a
+tramp die here. As it is, he will enjoy a lingering death. _That was one
+of your mother's pies._"
+
+Eric ran sobbing to his room, but in his heart he believed that he had
+detected his father in a kindly act, and conceived that a Gloomster
+might occasionally relax. Nevertheless, when he succeeded to the office
+he was stern and unrelenting, in spite of the fact that occasionally
+there was to be detected in his eye a glance of geniality. This was
+doubtless due to the fact that from the time of his intrusion upon his
+father's moment of weakness he was soundly thrashed every morning before
+breakfast, and spanked before retiring at night, as a preliminary to his
+prayers.
+
+But Christian Goodheart, the present incumbent, had not given
+satisfaction, and his Bishop had summoned him to show cause why he
+should not be removed, and, as we have seen, the Gloomster had gone away
+broken-hearted. Shortly after having arrived at Nightmare Abbey he was
+greeted by his wife.
+
+"Well, Christian," she said, "what did the Bishop say?"
+
+"He wants my resignation," sighed Christian. "He says I have shown
+myself unworthy, and I fear he has evidence."
+
+"Evidence? Against you, my husband, the most disagreeable man in the
+isle?" cried his wife, fondly.
+
+"Yes," sighed Christian. "Do you remember, you old termagant, how,
+forgetting myself and my position, last Tuesday I laughed when Peter
+Skelly told us what his baby said to his nurse?"
+
+"I do, Christian," the good woman answered. "You laughed heartily, and I
+warned you to be careful. It is not the Gloomster's place to laugh, and
+I feared it might reach the Bishop's ears."
+
+"It has done so," sighed Christian, shaking his head sadly and wringing
+his hands in his agony. "It has reached the Bishop's ears. Little Glory
+Grouse was passing by the door at the moment and saw me. Astonished, the
+child ran home and told her mother. 'Mommer!' she cried, 'I have seen
+the Gloomster laugh! I have seen the Gloomster laugh!' The child was
+cross-questioned, but stuck to her story until Mrs. Grouse was
+convinced, and told her neighbors, and these neighbors told other
+neighbors, until the story came to the ears of Canon Cashman, by whom it
+was conveyed to the Bishop himself."
+
+"What a little gossip that Glory Grouse is! She'll come to a bad end,
+mark my words!" cried Mrs. Goodheart, angrily. "She'll have her honored
+father's name on the circus posters yet."
+
+"Do not blame the child," said Christian, sadly. "She was right. Who
+had ever seen a Gloomster smile before? As well expect a ray of
+sunshine or a glimpse of humor in a Manx novel--"
+
+"But the Bishop is not going to remove you for one false step, is he,
+Christian? He cannot do that, can he?" pleaded the woman.
+
+"That is what I asked him," Christian answered. "And he handed me a
+type-written memorandum of what he called my record. It seems that for
+six months they have been spying upon me. Read it for yourself."
+
+Mrs. Goodheart took the paper and read, with trembling hands:
+
+"'January 1, 1898--wished Peggy Meguire a happy New Year.' Did you
+really, Christian?"
+
+"I don't remember doing so," sighed the Gloomster. "If I did, it must
+have been in sarcasm, for I hate Peggy Meguire, and I am sure I wish her
+nothing of the sort. I told the Bishop so, but all he would say was,
+'Read on.'"
+
+[Illustration: WISHED HER A HAPPY NEW-YEAR]
+
+"'February 23, 1898,'" Mrs. Goodheart continued, reading from the
+paper--"'took off his coat and wrapped it about the shivering form of a
+freezing woman.'
+
+"How very imprudent of you, Christian!" said his wife.
+
+"But the Bishop didn't know the circumstances," said Christian. "It was
+the subtlest kind of deviltry, not humanity, that prompted the act. If I
+hadn't given her my coat, the old lady would have frozen to death and
+been soon out of her misery. As it was, my wet coat saved her from an
+immediate surcease of sorrow, and, as I had foreseen, gave her muscular
+rheumatism of the most painful sort, from which she has suffered ever
+since."
+
+"You should have explained to the Bishop."
+
+"I did."
+
+"And what did he say?"
+
+"He said my methods were too damned artistic."
+
+"What?" cried Mrs. Goodheart. "The Bishop?"
+
+"Oh, well," said Christian, "words to that effect. He doesn't
+appreciate the subtleties of gloom distinction. What he looks for is
+sheer brutality. Might as well employ an out-and-out desperado for the
+work. I like to infuse a little art into my work. I've tried to bring
+Gloomsterism up to the level of an art, a science. Slapping a man in the
+face doesn't make him gloomy; it makes him mad. But subtlely infusing
+woe into his daily life, so that he doesn't know whence all his trouble
+comes--ah! that is the perfect flower of the Gloomster's work!"
+
+"H'm!" said Mrs. Goodheart. "That's well enough, Christian. If you are
+rich enough to consume your own product with profit, it's all right to
+be artistic; but if you are dependent on a salary, don't forget your
+consumer. What else have they against you?"
+
+"Read on, woman," said the Gloomster.
+
+"'April 1, 1898,'" the lady read. "'Gave a half-crown to a starving
+beggar.'"
+
+"That was another highly artistic act," said Christian. "I told the
+Bishop that I had given the coin to the beggar knowing it to be
+counterfeit, and hoping that he would be arrested for trying to pass it.
+The Bishop cut me short by saying that my hope had not been fulfilled.
+It seems that that ass of a beggar bought some food with the half-crown,
+and the grocer who sold him the food put the counterfeit half-crown in
+the contribution-box the next Sunday, and the Church was stuck. That's
+what I call hard luck."
+
+"Oh, well," returned Mrs. Goodheart, putting the paper down in despair.
+"There's no need to read further. That alone is sufficient to cause your
+downfall. When do you resign?"
+
+"At once," sighed Christian. "In fact, the Bishop had already written my
+resignation--which I signed."
+
+"And the land is without a Gloomster for the first time in five hundred
+years?" demanded Mrs. Goodheart.
+
+"No," said Christian, the tears coursing down his nose. "The place is
+filled already, and by one who knows gloom only theoretically--a mere
+summer resident of the Isle of Man. In short, a famous London author has
+succeeded me."
+
+"His name!" cried Mrs. Goodheart.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Just then," said Snobbe, "I awoke, and did not catch the author's name.
+It is a curious thing about dreams that just when you get to the crucial
+point you wake up."
+
+"I wonder who the deuce the chap could have been?" murmured the other
+diners. "Has any London author with a residence on the Isle of Man ever
+shown any acquaintance with gloom?"
+
+"I don't know for sure," said Billy Jones. "But my impression is that it
+must be the editor of _Punch_. What I am uncertain about is his
+residence on the Isle of Man. Otherwise I think he fills the bill."
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE DREAMERS DISCUSS A MAGAZINE POEM
+
+
+The pathetic tale of the Gloomster having been told and discussed, it
+turned out that Haarlem Bridge was the holder of the next ball in the
+sequence, the eighth. Haarley had been looking rather nervous all the
+evening, and two or three times he manifested some desire to withdraw
+from the scene. By order of the chairman, however, the precaution had
+been taken to lock all the doors, so that none of the Dreamers should
+escape, and, consequently, when the evil hour arrived, Haarley was
+perforce on hand.
+
+He rose up reluctantly, and, taking a single page of manuscript from his
+pocket, after a few preliminary remarks that were no more nor less
+coherent than the average after-dinner speech, read the following
+lines, which he termed a magazine poem:
+
+[Illustration: "'O ARGENT-BROWED SARCOPHAGUS'"]
+
+    "O argent-browed Sarcophagus,
+      That looms so through the ethered trees,
+    Why dost thou seem to those of us
+      Who drink the poisoned chalice on our knees
+    So distant and so empyrean,
+      So dour yet full of mystery?
+    Hast thou the oracle as yet unseen
+      To guide thy fell misogyny?
+
+    "Nay, let the spirit of the age
+      With all its mystic beauty stand
+    Translucent ever, aye, in spite the rage
+      Of Cossack and of Samarcand!
+    Thou art enough for any soul's desire!
+    Thou hast the beauty of cerulean fire!
+    But we who grovel on the damask earth
+    Are we despoilt of thy exigeant mirth?
+
+    "Canst listen to a prayer, Sarcophagus?
+    Indeed O art thou there, Sarcophagus?
+    What time the Philistine denies,
+    What time the raucous cynic cries,
+    Avaunt, yet spare! Let this thy motto be,
+    With thy thesaurian verbosity.
+    Nor think that I, a caterpillian worm,
+    Before thy glance should ever honk or squirm.
+
+    "'Tis but the stern condition of the poor
+    That panting brings me pottering at thy door,
+    To breathe of love and argent charity
+    For thee, for thee, iguanodonic thee!"
+
+"That's an excellent specimen of magazine poetry," said Billy Jones.
+"But I observe, Haarley, that you haven't given it a title. Perhaps if
+you gave it a title we might get at the mystery of its meaning. A title
+is a sort of Baedeker to the general run of magazine poems."
+
+Haarlem grew rather red of countenance as he answered, "Well, I didn't
+exactly like to give it the title I dreamed; it didn't seem to shed
+quite as much light on the subject as a title should."
+
+"Still, it may help," said Huddy Rivers. "I read a poem in a magazine
+the other day on 'Mystery.' And if it hadn't had a title I'd never have
+understood it. It ran this way:
+
+    "Life, what art thou? Whence springest thou?
+    The past, the future, or the now?
+    Whence comes thy lowering lunacy?
+    Whence comes thy mizzling mystery?
+    Hast thou a form, a shape, a lineament?
+    Hast thou a single seraph-eyed medicament
+    To ease our sorrow and our twitching woe?
+    Hast thou one laudable Alsatian glow
+    To compensate, commensurate, and condign
+    For all these dastard, sleekish qualms of mine?
+    Hast thou indeed an abject agate plot
+    To show that what exists is really not?
+    Or art thou just content to sit and say
+    Life's but a specious, coral roundelay?"
+
+"I committed the thing to memory because it struck me as being a good
+thing to remember--it was so full of good phrases. 'Twitching woe,' for
+instance, and 'sleekish qualms,'" he continued.
+
+"Quaking qualms would have been better," put in Tenafly Paterson, who
+judged poetry from an alliterative point of view.
+
+"Nevertheless, I liked sleekish qualms," retorted Huddy. "Quaking qualms
+might be more alliterative, but sleekish qualms is _less_ commonplace."
+
+"No doubt," said Tenafly. "I never had 'em myself, so I'll take your
+word for it. But what do you make out of 'coral roundelay'?"
+
+"Nothing at all," said Huddy. "I don't bother my head about 'coral
+roundelay' or 'seraph-eyed medicament.' I haven't wasted an atom of my
+gray matter on 'lowering lunacy' or 'agate plot' or 'mizzling mystery.'
+And all because the poet gave his poem a title. He called the thing
+'Mystery,' and when I had read it over half a dozen times I concluded
+that he was right; and if the thing remained a mystery to the author, I
+don't see why a reader should expect ever to be able to understand it."
+
+"Very logical conclusion, Huddy," said Billy Jones, approvingly. "If a
+poet chooses a name for his poem, you may make up your mind that there
+is good reason for it, and certainly the verses you have recited about
+the 'coral roundelay' are properly designated."
+
+"Well, I'd like to have the title of that yard of rhyme Haarlem Bridge
+just recited," put in Dobbs Ferry, scratching his head in bewilderment.
+"It strikes me as being quite as mysterious as Huddy's. What the deuce
+can a man mean by referring to an 'auburn-haired Sarcophagus'?"
+
+"It wasn't auburn-haired," expostulated Haarlem. "It was argent-browed."
+
+"Old Sarcophagus had nickel-plated eyebrows, Dobby," cried Tom Snobbe,
+forgetting himself for a moment.
+
+"Well, who the dickens was old Sarcophagus?" queried Dobby, unappeased.
+
+"He was one of the Egyptian kings, my dear boy," vouchsafed Billy Jones,
+exploding internally with mirth. "You've heard of Augustus Caesar,
+haven't you?"
+
+"Yes," said Dobby.
+
+"Well," explained Billy Jones, "Sarcophagus occupied the same relation
+to the Egyptians that Augustus did to the Romans--in fact, the
+irreverent used to call him Sarcophagustus, instead of Sarcophagus,
+which was his real name. This poem of Haarley's is manifestly addressed
+to him."
+
+[Illustration: "SARCOPHAGUSTUS"]
+
+"Did he have nickel-plated eyebrows?" asked Bedfork Parke, satirically.
+
+"No," said Billy Jones. "As I remember the story of Sarcophagus as I
+read of him in college, he was a very pallid sort of a potentate--his
+forehead was white as marble. So they called him the Argent-browed
+Sarcophagus."
+
+"It's a good thing for us we have Billy Jones with us to tell us all
+these things," whispered Tom Snobbe to his brother Dick.
+
+"You bet your life," said Dick. "There's nothing, after all, like a
+classical education. I wish I'd known it while I was getting mine."
+
+"What's 'fell misogyny'?" asked Tenafly Paterson, who seemed to be
+somewhat enamoured of the phrase. "Didn't old Sarcophagus care for
+chemistry?"
+
+"Chemistry?" demanded the chairman.
+
+"That's what I said," said Tenny. "Isn't misogyny a chemical compound of
+metal and gas?"
+
+Tenny had been to the School of Mines for two weeks, and had retired
+because he didn't care for mathematics and the table at the college
+restaurant wasn't good.
+
+"I fancy you are thinking of heterophemy, which is an infusion of
+unorthodox gases into a solution of vocabulary particles," suggested
+Billy Jones, grasping his sides madly to keep them from shaking.
+
+"Oh yes," said Tenny, "of course. I remember now." Then he laughed
+somewhat, and added, "I always get misogyny and heterophemy mixed."
+
+"Who wouldn't?" cried Harry Snobbe. "I do myself! There's no chance to
+talk about either where I live," he added. "Half the people don't know
+what they mean. They're not very anthropological up my way."
+
+"What's a Samarcand?" asked Tenafly, again. "Haarley's poem speaks of
+Cossack and of Samarcand. Of course we all know that a Cossack is a
+garment worn by the Russian peasants, but I never heard of a Samarcand."
+
+"It's a thing to put about your neck," said Dick Snobbe. "They wear 'em
+in winter out in Siberia. I looked it up some years ago."
+
+"Let's take up 'cerulean fire,'" said Bedford Parke, Tenafly appearing
+to be satisfied with Snobbe's explanation.
+
+"What's 'cerulean fire'?"
+
+"Blue ruin," said Huddy.
+
+"And 'damask earth'?" said Bedford.
+
+"Easy," cried Huddy. "Even I can understand that. Did you never hear,
+Beddy, of painting a town red? That's damask earth in a small way. If
+you can paint a town red with your limited resources, what couldn't a
+god do with a godlike credit? As I understand the poem, old Sarcophagus
+comes down out of the cerulean fire, and goes in for a little damask
+earth. That's why the poet later says:
+
+    "'Canst listen to a prayer, Sarcophagus?
+    Indeed O art thou there, Sarcophagus?'
+
+He wanted to pray to him, but didn't know if he'd got back from damask
+earth yet."
+
+"You're a perfect wonder, Huddy," said Billy Jones. "As a
+thought-detector you are a beauty. I believe you'd succeed if you opened
+up a literary bureau somewhere and devoted your time to explaining
+Browning and Meredith and others to a mystified public."
+
+"'Tis an excellent idea," said Tom Snobbe. "I'd really rejoice to see
+certain modern British masterpieces translated into English, and, with
+headquarters in Boston, the institution ought to flourish. Do worms
+honk?"
+
+[Illustration: MR. BILLY JONES]
+
+"I never heard of any doing so," replied the chairman, "but in these
+days it is hardly safe to say that anything is impossible. If you have
+watched the development of the circus in the last five years--I mean the
+real circus, not the literary--you must have observed what an advance
+intellectually has been made by the various members of the animal
+kingdom. Elephants have been taught to sit at table and dine like
+civilized beings on things that aren't good for them; pigs have been
+educated so that, instead of evincing none but the more domestic
+virtues and staying contentedly at home, they now play poker with the
+sangfroid of a man about town; while the seal, a creature hitherto
+considered useful only in the production of sacques for our wives, and
+ear-tabs for our children, and mittens for our hired men, are now
+branching out as rivals to the college glee clubs, singing songs,
+playing banjoes, and raising thunder generally. Therefore it need
+surprise no one if a worm should learn to honk as high as any goose that
+ever honked. Anyhow, you can't criticise a poet for anything of that
+kind. His license permits him to take any liberties he may see fit with
+existing conditions."
+
+"All of which," observed Dick Snobbe, "is wandering from the original
+point of discussion. What is the meaning of Haarley's poem? I can't see
+that as yet we have reached a definite understanding on that point."
+
+"Well, I must confess," said Jones, "that I can't understand it myself;
+but I never could understand magazine poetry, so that doesn't prove
+anything. I'm only a newspaper man."
+
+"Let's have the title, Haarley," cried Tenafly Paterson. "Was it called
+'Life,' or 'Nerve Cells,' or what?"
+
+For a second Bridge's cheeks grew red.
+
+"Oh, well, if you must have it," he said, desperately, "here it is. It
+was called, 'A Thought on Hearing, While Visiting Gibraltar in June,
+1898, that the War Department at Washington Had Failed to Send Derricks
+to Cuba, Thereby Delaying the Landing of General Shafter Three Days and
+Giving Comfort to the Enemy.'"
+
+"Great Scott!" roared Dick Snobbe. "What a title!"
+
+"It is excellent," said Billy Jones. "I now understand the intent of the
+poem."
+
+"Which was--?" asked Rivers.
+
+"To supply a real hiatus in latter-day letters," Jones replied; "to give
+the public a war poem that would make them think, which is what a true
+war poem should do. Who has the ninth ball?"
+
+"I am the unfortunate holder of that," said Greenwich Place. "I'd just
+been reading Anthony Hope and Mr. Dooley. The result is a composite,
+which I will read."
+
+"What do you call it, Mr. Place?" asked the stenographer.
+
+"Well, I don't know," replied Greenwich. "I guess 'A Dooley Dialogue'
+about describes it."
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+DOLLY VISITS CHICAGO
+
+     _Being the substance of a Dooley dialogue dreamed by Greenwich
+     Place, Esq._
+
+
+"I must see him," said Dolly, rising suddenly from her chair and walking
+to the window. "I really must, you know."
+
+"Who?" I asked, rousing myself from the lethargy into which my morning
+paper had thrust me. It was not grammatical of me--I was somewhat under
+the influence of newspaper English--but Dolly is quick to understand.
+"Must see who?" I continued.
+
+"Who indeed?" cried Dolly, gazing at me in mock surprise. "How stupid of
+you! If I went to Rome and said I must see him, you'd know I must mean
+the Pope; if I went to Berlin and said I must see it, you'd know I
+meant the Emperor. Therefore, when I come to Chicago and say that I must
+see him, you ought to be able to guess that I mean--"
+
+"Mr. Dooley?" I ventured, at a guess.
+
+"Good for you!" cried Dolly, clapping her hands together joyously; and
+then she hummed bewitchingly, "The Boy Guessed Right the Very First
+Time," until I begged her to desist. When Dolly claps her hands and
+hums, she becomes a vision of loveliness that would give the most
+confirmed misogynist palpitation of the heart, and I had no wish to die.
+
+"Do you suppose I could call upon him without being thought too
+unconventional?" she blurted out in a moment.
+
+"You can do anything," said I, admiringly. "That is, with me to help," I
+added, for I should be sorry if Dolly were to grow conceited. "Perhaps
+it would be better to have Mr. Dooley call upon you. Suppose you send
+him your card, and put 'at home' on it? I fancy that would fetch him."
+
+"Happy thought!" said Dolly. "Only I haven't one. In the excitement of
+our elopement I forgot to get any. Suppose I write my name on a blank
+card and send it?"
+
+"Excellent," said I.
+
+And so it happened; the morning's mail took out an envelope addressed to
+Mr. Dooley, and containing a bit of pasteboard upon which was written,
+in the charming hand of Dolly:
+
+    Mrs. R. Dolly-Rassendyll.
+            At Home.
+         The Hippodorium.
+        Tuesday Afternoon.
+
+The response was gratifyingly immediate.
+
+The next morning Dolly's mail contained Mr. Dooley's card, which read as
+follows:
+
+[Illustration: "'I MUST SEE HIM,' SAID DOLLY"]
+
+          Mr. Dooley.
+           At Work.
+    Every Day.      Archie Road.
+
+"Which means?" said Dolly, tossing the card across the table to me.
+
+"That if you want to see Dooley you'll have to call upon him at his
+place of business. It's a saloon, I believe," I observed. "Or a
+club--most American saloons are clubs, I understand."
+
+"I wonder if there's a ladies' day there?" laughed Dolly. "If there
+isn't, perhaps I'd better not."
+
+And I of course agreed, for when Dolly thinks perhaps she'd better not,
+I always agree with her, particularly when the thing is a trifle
+unconventional.
+
+"I am sorry," she said, as we reached the conclusion. "To visit Chicago
+without meeting Mr. Dooley strikes me as like making the Mediterranean
+trip without seeing Gibraltar."
+
+But we were not to be disappointed, after all, for that afternoon who
+should call but the famous philosopher himself, accompanied by his
+friend Mr. Hennessey. They were ushered into our little parlor, and
+Dolly received them radiantly.
+
+"Iv coorse," said Dooley, "I hatter come t' see me new-found cousin.
+Hennessey here says, he says, 'She ain't yer cousin,' he says; but whin
+I read yer car-r-rd over th' second time, an' see yer na-a-ame was R.
+Dooley-Rassendyll, wid th' hifalution betwixt th' Dooley an' th'
+Rassendyll, I says, 'Hennessey,' I says, 'that shmall bit iv a coupler
+in that na-a-ame means only wan thing,' I says. 'Th' la-ady,' I says,
+'was born a Dooley, an' 's prood iv it,' I says, 'as she'd ought to be,'
+I says. 'Shure enough,' says Hennessey; 'but they's Dooleys an'
+Dooleys,' he says. 'Is she Roscommon or Idunnaw?' he says. 'I dinnaw
+meself,' I says, 'but whichiver she is,' I says, 'I'm goin' to see her,'
+I says. 'Anny wan that can feel at home in a big hotel like the
+Hippojorium,' I says, 'is wort' lookin' at, if only for the curawsity
+of it,' I says. Are ye here for long?"
+
+"We are just passing through," said Dolly, with a pleased smile.
+
+"It's a gud pla-ace for that," said Dooley. "Thim as pass troo Chicago
+ginerally go awaa pleased, an' thim as stays t'ink it's th' only pla-ace
+in th' worruld, gud luk to 'em! for, barrin' Roscommon an' New York,
+it's th' only pla-ace I have anny use for. Is yer hoosband anny relation
+t' th' dood in the _Prizner iv Cinders_?"
+
+I laughed quietly, but did not resent the implication. I left Dolly to
+her fate.
+
+"He is the very same person," said Dolly.
+
+"I t'ought as much," said Dooley, eying me closely. "Th' strorberry mark
+on his hair sort of identified him," he added. "Cousin Roopert, I ta-ak
+ye by the hand. Ye was a bra-ave lad in th' first book, an' a dom'd fool
+in th' second; but I read th' second first, and th' first lasht, so whin
+I left ye ye was all right. I t'ought ye was dead?"
+
+"No," said I. "I am only dead in the sense that Mr. Hope has no further
+use for me."
+
+"A wise mon, that Mr. Ant'ny Hawp," said Dooley. "Whin I write me book,"
+he continued, "I'm goin' t' shtop short whin folks have had enough."
+
+"Oh, indeed!" cried Dolly, enthusiastically. "Are you writing a book,
+Mr. Dooley? I am so glad."
+
+"Yis," said Dooley, deprecatingly, yet pleased by Dolly's enthusiasm.
+"I'm half finished already. That is to say, I've made th'
+illusthrations. An' the publishers have accepted the book on th'
+stringth iv them."
+
+"Really?" said Dolly. "Do you really draw?"
+
+"Nawm," said Dooley. "I niver drew a picture in me life."
+
+"He draws corks," put in Hennessey. "He's got a pull that bates--"
+
+"Hennessey," interrupted Mr. Dooley, "since whin have ye been me
+funnygraph? Whin me cousin ashks me riddles, I'll tell her th' answers.
+G' down-shtairs an' get a cloob san'wich an' ate yourself to death.
+Char-rge it to--er--char-rge it to Misther Rassendyll here--me cousin
+Roop, be marritch. He looks liks a soft t'ing."
+
+Hennessey subsided and showed an inclination to depart, and I, not
+liking to see a well-meaning person thus sat upon, tried to be pleasant
+to him.
+
+"Don't go just yet, Mr. Hennessey," said I. "I should like to talk to
+you."
+
+"Mr. Rassendyll," he replied, "I'm not goin' just yet, but an invitation
+to join farces with one iv the Hippojorium's cloob sandwhiches is too
+much for me. I must accept. Phwat is the noomber iv your shweet?"
+
+I gave him the number, and Hennessey departed. Before he went, however,
+he comforted me somewhat by saying that he too was "a puppit in th'
+han's iv an auter. Ye've got to do," said he, "whativer ye're sint t'
+do. I'm told ye've killed a million Germans--bless ye!--but ye're
+nawthin' but a facthory hand afther all. I'm th' background iv Dooley.
+If Dooley wants to be smar-rt, I've got t' play th' fool. It's the same
+with you; only you've had yer chance at a printcess, later on pla-acin'
+the la-ady in a 'nonymous p'sition--which is enough for anny man, Dooley
+or no Dooley."
+
+Hennessey departed in search of his club sandwich, which was
+subsequently alluded to in my bill, and for which I paid with pleasure,
+for Hennessey is a good fellow. I then found myself listening to the
+conversation between Dolly and Dooley.
+
+"Roscommon, of course," Dolly was saying. What marvellous adaptability
+that woman has! "How could you think, my dear cousin, that I belonged to
+the farmer Dooleys?"
+
+"I t'ought as much," said Mr. Dooley, genially, "now that I've seen ye.
+Whin you put th' wor-rds 'at home' on yer car-rd, I had me doots. No
+Dooley iv th' right sor-rt iver liked annyt'ing a landlord gave him; an'
+whin y' expreshed satisfaction wid th' Hippojorium, I didn't at first
+t'ink ye was a true Dooley. Since I've seen ye, I love ye properly,
+ma'am--like th' cousin I am. I've read iv ye, just as I've read iv yer
+hoosband, Cousin Roopert here be marritch, in th' biojographies of Mr.
+Ant'ny Hawp, an' while I cudn't help likin' ye, I must say I didn't
+t'ink ye was very deep on th' surface, an' when I read iv your elopin'
+with Cousin Roop, I says to Hennessey, I says, 'Hennessey,' I says,
+'that's all right, they'd bote iv 'em better die, but let us not be
+asashinators,' I says; 'let 'em be joined in marritch. That's punishment
+enough,' I says to Hennessey. Ye see, Miss Dooley, I have been marrit
+meself."
+
+"But I have found married life far from punishment," I heard Dolly say.
+"I fear you're a sad pessimist, Mr. Dooley," she added.
+
+"I'm not," Mr. Dooley replied. "I'm a Jimmycrat out an' out, if ye refer
+to me politics; but if your remark is a reflection on me religion, let
+me tell ye, ma'am, that, like all me countrymen in this beautiful land,
+I'm a Uni-tarrian, an' prood iv it."
+
+I ventured to interpose at this point.
+
+"Dooley," said I, "your cousin Roop, as you call him, is very glad to
+meet you, whatever your politics or your religion."
+
+"Mosht people are," said he, dryly.
+
+"That shows good taste," said I. "But how about your book? It has been
+accepted on the strength of its illustrations, you say. How about them?
+Can we see them anywhere? Are they on exhibition?"
+
+"You can not only see thim, but you can drink 'em free anny time you
+come out to Archie Road," Dooley replied, cordially.
+
+"Drink--a picture?" I asked.
+
+[Illustration: "'KAPE YOUR HOOSBAND HOME'"]
+
+"Yis," said Dooley. "Didn't ye iver hear iv dhrinkin' in a picture,
+Cousin Roopert? Didn't ye hear th' tark about th' 'Angelus' whin 'twas
+here? Ye cud hear th' bells ringin' troo th' paint iv it. Ye cud almost
+hear th' couple in front just back iv th' varnish quar'lin as t'whether
+'twas th' Angelus er the facthery bell that was goin' off. 'Twas big
+an' little felt th' inflooance iv Misther Miller's jaynius, just be
+lukin' at ut--though as fer me, th' fir-rst time I see the t'ing I says,
+says I, 'Is ut lukin' for bait to go fishin' with they are?' I says.
+'Can't ye hear the pealin' iv the bells?' says Hennessey, who was with
+me. 'That an' more,' I says. 'I can hear the pealin' o' th' petayties,'
+I says. 'Do ye dhrink in th' feelin' iv it?' says Hennessey. 'Naw, t'ank
+ye,' I says. 'I'm not thirsty,' I says. 'Besides, I've swore off
+dhrinkin' ile-paintin's,' I says. 'Wathercoolers is gud enough fer me,'
+I says. An' wid that we wint back to the Road. But that was th' fir-rst
+time I iver heard iv dhrinkin' a work iv ar-rt."
+
+"But some of the things you--ah--you Americans drink," put in Dolly,
+"are works of art, my dear Mr. Dooley. Your cousin Rupert gave me a
+cocktail at dinner last night--"
+
+"Ye've hit ut, Miss Dooley," returned the philosopher, with a beautiful
+enthusiasm. "Ye've hit ut square. I see now y're a thrue Dooley. An'
+wid yer kind permission I'll dedicate me book to ye. Ut's cocktails that
+book's about, ma'am. _Fifty Cocktails I Have Met_ is th' na-ame iv ut.
+An' whin I submitted th' mannyscrip' wid th' illusthrations to the
+publisher, he dhrank 'em all, an' he says, 'Dooley,' he says, 'ut's a
+go. I'll do yer book,' he says, 'an' I'll pay ye wan hoondred an'
+siventy-five per cent.,' he says. 'Set 'em up again, Dooley,' he says;
+an' I mixed 'em. 'I t'ink, Dooley,' he says, afther goin' troo th'
+illusthrations th' second toime--'I t'ink,' he says, 'ye'd ought to get
+two hoondred an' wan per cent. on th' retail price iv th' book,' he
+says. 'Can't I take a bottle iv these illusthrations to me office?' he
+says. 'I'd like to look 'em over,' he says; an' I mixed 'im up a quar-rt
+iv th' illusthrations to th' chapther on th' Mar-rtinney, an' sent him
+back to his partner in th' ambylanch."
+
+[Illustration: MIXING ILLUSTRATIONS]
+
+"I shall look forward to the publication of your book with much
+interest, Mr. Dooley," said Dolly. "Now that I have discovered our
+cousinship, I am even more interested in you than I was before; and let
+me tell you that, before I met you, I thought of you as the most vital
+figure in American humor that has been produced in many years."
+
+"I know nothin' iv American humor," said Dooley, "for I haven't met anny
+lately, an' I know nothin' iv victuals save what I ate, an' me appytite
+is as satisfoid wid itself as Hobson is wid th' kisses brawt onto him by
+th' sinkin' iv th' Merrimickinley. But for you an' Misther Rassendyll,
+ma'am, I've nothin' but good wishes an' ah--illusthrations to me book
+whenever ye give yer orders. Kape your hoosband home, Miss Dooley," he
+added. "He's scrapped wanst too often already wi' th' Ruraltarriers, an'
+he's been killed off wanst by Mr. Ant'ny Hawp; but he'll niver die if ye
+only kape him home. If he goes out he'll git fightin' agin. If he
+attimpts a sayquil to the sayquil, he's dead sure enough!"
+
+And with this Dolly and Dooley parted.
+
+For myself, Rupert Rassendyll, I think Dooley's advice was good, and as
+long as Dolly will keep me home, I'll stay. For is it not better to be
+the happy husband of Dolly of the Dialogues, than to be going about like
+a knight of the Middle Ages clad in the evening dress of the nineteenth
+century, doing impossible things?
+
+As for Dooley's impression of Dolly, I can only quote what I heard he
+had said after meeting her.
+
+"She's a Dooley sure," said he, being novel to compliment. And I am glad
+she is, for despite the charms of Flavia of pleasant memory, there's
+nobody like Dolly for me, and if Dolly can only be acknowledged by the
+Dooleys, her fame, I am absolutely confident, is assured.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+IN WHICH YELLOW JOURNALISM CREEPS IN
+
+
+The applause which followed the reading of the Dooley Dialogue showed
+very clearly that, among the diners at least, neither Dooley nor Dolly
+had waned in popularity. If the dilution, the faint echo of the
+originals, evoked such applause, how potent must have been the genius of
+the men who first gave life to Dooley and the fair Dolly!
+
+"That's good stuff, Greenwich," said Billie Jones. "You must have eaten
+a particularly digestible meal. Now for the tenth ball. Who has it?"
+
+"I," said Dick Snobbe, rising majestically from his chair. "And I can
+tell you what it is; I had a tough time of it in my dream, as you will
+perceive when I recite to you the story of my experiences at the battle
+of Manila."
+
+"Great Scott, Dick!" cried Bedford Parke. "You weren't in that, were
+you?"
+
+"Sir," returned Dick, "I was not only _in_ it, I was the thing itself. I
+was the war correspondent of the Sunday _Whirnal_, attached to Dewey's
+fleet."
+
+Whereupon the talented Mr. Snobbe proceeded to read the following cable
+despatch from the special correspondent of the _Whirnal_:
+
+  MANILA FALLS
+  THE SPANISH FLEET DESTROYED
+  THE SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT OF THE _WHIRNAL_
+  AIDED BY COMMODORE DEWEY AND HIS FLEET
+  CAPTURES THE PHILIPPINES
+
+[Illustration: THE SHIP'S BARBER AT WORK]
+
+MANILA, _May 1, 1898_.--I have glorious news. I have this day destroyed
+the Spanish fleet and captured the Philippine Islands. According to my
+instructions from the City Editor of the _Whirnal_, I boarded the
+_Olympia_, the flag-ship of the fleet under Commodore Dewey at
+Hong-kong, on Wednesday last. Upon reading my credentials the Commodore
+immediately surrendered the command of the fleet to me, and retired to
+his state-room, where he has since remained. I deemed it well to keep
+him there until after the battle was over, fearing lest he should annoy
+me with suggestions, and not knowing but that he might at any time
+spread dissension among the officers and men, who, after the habit of
+seamen, frequently manifest undue affection and sympathy for a deposed
+commander. I likewise, according to your wishes, concealed from the
+officers and crew the fact that the Commodore had been deposed,
+furthering the concealment by myself making up as Dewey. Indeed, it was
+not until after the battle this morning that any but Dewey and the
+ship's barber were aware of the substitution, since my disguise was
+perfect. The ship's barber I had to take into my confidence, for
+unfortunately on leaving Hong-kong I had forgotten to provide myself
+with a false mustache, so that in concealing the deposition of the
+Commodore by myself assuming his personality I was compelled to have the
+gentleman's mustache removed from his upper lip and transferred to my
+own. This the barber did with neatness and despatch, I having first
+chloroformed the Commodore, from whom some resistance might have been
+expected, owing to his peculiar temperament. Fortunately the fellow was
+an expert wig-maker, and within an hour of the shaving of Dewey I was
+provided with a mustache which could not fail to be recognized as the
+Commodore's, since it was indeed that very same object. When five
+hundred miles at sea I dropped the barber overboard, fearing lest he
+should disturb my plans by talking too much. I hated to do it, but in
+the interest of the _Whirnal_ I hold life itself as of little
+consequence, particularly if it is the life of some one else--and who
+knows but the poor fellow was an expert swimmer, and has by this time
+reached Borneo or some other bit of dry land? He was alive when I last
+saw him, and yelling right lustily. If it so happen that he has swum
+ashore somewhere, kindly let me know at your convenience; for beneath a
+correspondent's exterior I have a warm heart, and it sometimes troubles
+me to think that the poor fellow may have foundered, since the sea was
+stressful and the nearest dry point was four hundred and sixty knots
+away to S.E. by N.G., while the wind was blowing N.W. by N.Y.C. & H.R.R.
+But to my despatch.
+
+Dewey done for, despoiled of his mustache and rifled of his place, with
+a heavy sea running and a dense fog listing to starboard, I summoned my
+officers to the flag-ship, and, on the evening of April 30th, the
+fog-horns of Cavite having indicated the approach of the Philippine
+coast, gave them, one and all, their final instructions. These were, in
+brief, never to do anything without consulting with me.
+
+"To facilitate matters, gentlemen," said I, ordering an extra supply of
+grog for the captains, and milk punches for the lieutenants, "we must
+connect the various vessels of the fleet with telephone wires. Who will
+undertake this perilous duty?"
+
+They rose up as one man, and, with the precision of a grand-opera
+chorus, replied: "Commodore"--for they had not penetrated my
+disguise--"call upon us. If you will provide the wires and the 'phones,
+we will do the rest." And they followed these patriotic words with
+cheers for me.
+
+Their heroism so affected me that I had difficulty in frowning upon the
+head-butler's suggestion that my glass should be filled again.
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, huskily--for I was visibly affected--"I have
+provided for all. I could not do otherwise and remain myself. You will
+find ten thousand miles of wire and sixty-six telephones in the larder."
+
+That night every ship in the fleet was provided with telephone service.
+I appointed the _Olympia_ to be the central office, so that I might
+myself control all the messages, or at least hear them as they passed to
+and fro. In the absence of ladies from the fleet, I appointed a somewhat
+effeminate subaltern to the post of "Hello Officer," with complete
+control over the switch-board. And, as it transpired, this was a very
+wise precaution, because the central office was placed in the hold, and
+the poor little chap's courage was so inclined to ooze that in the midst
+of the fight he was content to sit below the water-line at his post, and
+not run about the promenade-deck giving orders while under fire. I have
+cabled the President about him, and have advised his promotion. His
+heroic devotion to the switch-board ought to make him a naval attache to
+some foreign court, at least. I trust his bravery will ultimately result
+in his being sent to the Paris Exposition as charge d'affaires in the
+Erie Canal department of the New York State exhibit.
+
+But to return to my despatch--which from this point must disregard
+space and move quickly. Passing Cape Bolinao, we soon reached Subig Bay,
+fifty miles from Manila. Recognizing the cape by the crop of hemp on its
+brow, I rang up the _Boston_ and the _Concord_.
+
+"Search Subig Bay," I ordered.
+
+"Who's this?" came the answer from the other end.
+
+"Never mind who I am," said I. "Search Subig Bay for Spaniards."
+
+"Hello!" said the _Boston_.
+
+"Who the deuce are you?" cried the _Concord_.
+
+"I'm seventeen-five-six," I replied, with some sarcasm, for that was not
+my number.
+
+"I want sixteen-two-one," retorted the _Boston_.
+
+"Ring off," said the _Concord_. "What do you mean by giving me
+seventeen-five-six?"
+
+"Hello, _Boston_ and _Concord_," I put in in commanding tones. "I'm
+Dewey."
+
+This is the only false statement I ever made, but it was in the
+interests of my country, and my reply was electrical in its effect. The
+_Boston_ immediately blew off steam, and the _Concord_ sounded all hands
+to quarters.
+
+"What do you want, Commodore?" they asked simultaneously.
+
+"Search Subig Bay for Spaniards, as I have already ordered you," I
+replied, "and woe be unto you if you don't find any."
+
+"What do you want 'em for, Commodore?" asked the _Boston_.
+
+"To engage, you idiot," I replied, scornfully. "What did you suppose--to
+teach me Spanish?"
+
+Both vessels immediately piped all hands on deck and set off. Two hours
+later they returned, and the telephone subaltern reported, "No Spaniards
+found."
+
+"Why not?" I demanded.
+
+"All gone to Cuba," replied the _Boston_. "Shall we pipe all hands to
+Cuba?"
+
+"Wires too short to penetrate without a bust," replied the _Concord_.
+
+"On to Manila!" was my answer. "Ding the torpedoes--go ahead! Give us
+Spaniards or give us death!"
+
+These words inspired every ship in the line, and we immediately strained
+forward, except the _McCulloch_, which I despatched at once to Hong-kong
+to cable my last words to you in time for the Adirondack edition of your
+Sunday issue leaving New York Thursday afternoon.
+
+The rest of us immediately proceeded. In a short while, taking advantage
+of the darkness for which I had provided by turning the clock back so
+that the sun by rising at the usual hour should not disclose our
+presence, we turned Corregidor and headed up the Boca Grande towards
+Manila. As we were turning Corregidor the telephone-bell rang, and
+somebody who refused to give his name, but stating that he was aboard
+the _Petrel_, called me up.
+
+"Hello!" said I.
+
+"Is this Dewey?" said the _Petrel_.
+
+"Yes," said I.
+
+"There are torpedoes ahead," said the _Petrel_.
+
+"What of it?" said I.
+
+"How shall we treat 'em?"
+
+"Blow 'em off--to soda water," I answered, sarcastically.
+
+"Thank you, sir," the _Petrel_ replied, as she rang off.
+
+Then somebody from the _Baltimore_ rang me up.
+
+"Commodore Dewey," said the _Baltimore_, "there are mines in the
+harbor."
+
+"Well, what of it?" I replied.
+
+"What shall we do?" asked the _Baltimore_.
+
+"Treat them coldly, as they do in the Klondike," said I.
+
+"But they aren't gold-mines," replied the _Baltimore_.
+
+"Then salt 'em," said I, dryly. "Apply for a certificate of
+incorporation, water your stock, sell out, and retire."
+
+"Thank you, Commodore," the _Baltimore_ answered. "How many shares shall
+we put you down for?"
+
+"None," said I. "But if you'll use your surplus to start a
+life-insurance company, I'll take out a policy for forty-eight hours,
+and send you my demand note to pay for the first premium."
+
+I mention this merely to indicate to your readers that I felt myself in
+a position of extreme peril, and did not forget my obligations to my
+family. It is a small matter, but if you will search the pages of
+history you will see that in the midst of the greatest dangers the
+greatest heroes have thought of apparently insignificant details.
+
+At this precise moment we came in sight of the fortresses of Manila.
+Signalling the _Raleigh_ to heave to, I left the flag-ship and jumped
+aboard the cruiser, where I discharged with my own hand the
+after-forecastle four-inch gun. The shot struck Corregidor, and,
+glancing off, as I had designed, caromed on the smoke-stack of the
+_Reina Cristina_, the flag-ship of Admiral Montojo. The Admiral,
+unaccustomed to such treatment, immediately got out of bed, and,
+putting on his pajamas, appeared on the bridge.
+
+[Illustration: A CLEVER CAROM]
+
+"Who smoked our struck-stack?" he demanded, in broken English.
+
+"The enemy," cried his crew, with some nervousness. I was listening to
+their words through the megaphone.
+
+"Then let her sink," said he, clutching his brow sadly with his clinched
+fist. "Far be it from me to stay afloat in Manila Bay on the 1st of May,
+and so cast discredit on history!"
+
+The _Reina Cristina_ immediately sank, according to the orders of the
+Admiral, and I turned my attention to the _Don Juan de Austria_. Rowing
+across the raging channel to the _Baltimore_, I boarded her and pulled
+the lanyard of the port boom forty-two. The discharge was terrific.
+
+"What has happened?" I asked, coolly, as the explosion exploded. "Did we
+hit her?"
+
+"We did, your honor," said the Bo's'n's mate, "square in the eye; only,
+Commodore, it ain't a her this time--it's a him. It's the _Don Juan
+de_--"
+
+"Never mind the sex," I cried. "Has she sank?"
+
+"No, sir," replied the Bo's'n's mate, "she 'ain't sank yet. She's
+a-waiting orders."
+
+"Fly signals to sink," said I, sternly, for I had resolved that she
+should go down.
+
+They did so, and the _Don Juan de Austria_ immediately disappeared
+beneath the waves. Her commander evidently realized that I meant what I
+signalled.
+
+"Are there any more of the enemy afloat?" I demanded, jumping from the
+deck of the _Baltimore_ to that of the _Concord_.
+
+"No, Commodore," replied the captain of the latter.
+
+"Then signal the enemy to charter two more gunboats and have 'em sent
+out. I can't be put off with two boats when I'm ready to sink four," I
+replied.
+
+[Illustration: SINKING THE _CASTILLA_]
+
+The _Concord_ immediately telephoned to the Spanish commandant at the
+Manila Cafe de la Paix, who as quickly chartered the _Castilla_ and
+the _Velasco_--two very good boats that had recently come in in ballast
+with the idea of loading up with bananas and tobacco.
+
+While waiting for these vessels to come out and be sunk, I ordered all
+hands to breakfast, thus reviving their falling courage. It was a very
+good breakfast, too. We had mush and hominy and potatoes in every style,
+beefsteak, chops, liver and bacon, chicken hash, buckwheat cakes and
+fish-balls, coffee, tea, rolls, toast, and brown bread.
+
+Just as we were eating the latter the _Castilla_ and _Velasco_ came out.
+I fired my revolver at the _Castilla_ and threw a fish-ball at the
+_Velasco_. Both immediately burst into flames.
+
+Manila was conquered.
+
+The fleet gone, the city fell. It not only fell, but slid, and by
+nightfall Old Glory waved over the citadel.
+
+The foe was licked.
+
+To-morrow I am to see Dewey again.
+
+I think I shall resign to-night.
+
+     P.S.--Please send word to the magazines that all articles by Dewey
+     must be written by Me. Terms, $500 per word. The strain has been
+     worth it.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE MYSTERY OF PINKHAM'S DIAMOND STUD
+
+     _Being the tale told by the holder of the eleventh ball,
+     Mr. Fulton Streete_
+
+
+"It is the little things that tell in detective work, my dear Watson,"
+said Sherlock Holmes as we sat over our walnuts and coffee one bitter
+winter night shortly before his unfortunate departure to Switzerland,
+whence he never returned.
+
+"I suppose that is so," said I, pulling away upon the very excellent
+stogie which mine host had provided--one made in Pittsburg in 1885, and
+purchased by Holmes, whose fine taste in tobacco had induced him to lay
+a thousand of these down in his cigar-cellar for three years, and then
+keep them in a refrigerator, overlaid with a cloth soaked in Chateau
+Yquem wine for ten. The result may be better imagined than described.
+Suffice it to say that my head did not recover for three days, and the
+ash had to be cut off the stogie with a knife. "I suppose so, my dear
+Holmes," I repeated, taking my knife and cutting three inches of the
+stogie off and casting it aside, furtively, lest he should think I did
+not appreciate the excellence of the tobacco, "but it is not given to
+all of us to see the little things. Is it, now?"
+
+"Yes," he said, rising and picking up the rejected portion of the
+stogie. "We all see everything that goes on, but we don't all know it.
+We all hear everything that goes on, but we are not conscious of the
+fact. For instance, at this present moment there is somewhere in this
+world a man being set upon by assassins and yelling lustily for help.
+Now his yells create a certain atmospheric disturbance. Sound is merely
+vibration, and, once set going, these vibrations will run on and on and
+on in ripples into the infinite--that is, they will never stop, and
+sooner or later these vibrations must reach our ears. We may not know it
+when they do, but they will do so none the less. If the man is in the
+next room, we will hear the yells almost simultaneously--not quite, but
+almost--with their utterance. If the man is in Timbuctoo, the vibrations
+may not reach us for a little time, according to the speed with which
+they travel. So with sight. Sight seems limited, but in reality it is
+not. _Vox populi, vox Dei_. If _vox_, why not _oculus_? It is a simple
+proposition, then, that the eye of the people being the eye of God, the
+eye of God being all-seeing, therefore the eye of the people is
+all-seeing--Q. E. D."
+
+I gasped, and Holmes, cracking a walnut, gazed into the fire for a
+moment.
+
+"It all comes down, then," I said, "to the question, who are the
+people?"
+
+Holmes smiled grimly. "All men," he replied, shortly; "and when I say
+all men, I mean all creatures who can reason."
+
+"Does that include women?" I asked.
+
+"Certainly," he said. "Indubitably. The fact that women _don't_ reason
+does not prove that they can't. I _can_ go up in a balloon if I wish to,
+but I _don't_. I _can_ read an American newspaper comic supplement, but
+I _don't_. So it is with women. Women can reason, and therefore they
+have a right to be included in the classification whether they do or
+don't."
+
+"Quite so," was all I could think of to say at the moment. The
+extraordinary logic of the man staggered me, and I again began to
+believe that the famous mathematician who said that if Sherlock Holmes
+attempted to prove that five apples plus three peaches made four pears,
+he would not venture to dispute his conclusions, was wise. (This was the
+famous Professor Zoggenhoffer, of the Leipsic School of Moral Philosophy
+and Stenography.--ED.)
+
+"Now you agree, my dear Watson," he said, "that I have proved that we
+see everything?"
+
+"Well--" I began.
+
+"Whether we are conscious of it or not?" he added, lighting the gas-log,
+for the cold was becoming intense.
+
+"From that point of view, I suppose so--yes," I replied, desperately.
+
+"Well, then, this being granted, consciousness is all that is needed to
+make us fully informed on any point."
+
+"No," I said, with some positiveness. "The American people are very
+conscious, but I can't say that generally they are well-informed."
+
+I had an idea this would knock him out, as the Bostonians say, but
+counted without my host. He merely laughed.
+
+"The American is only self-conscious. Therefore he is well-informed only
+as to self," he said.
+
+"You've proved your point, Sherlock," I said. "Go on. What else have you
+proved?"
+
+"That it is the little things that tell," he replied. "Which all men
+would realize in a moment if they could see the little things--and when
+I say 'if they could see,' I of course mean if they could be conscious
+of them."
+
+"Very true," said I.
+
+"And I have the gift of consciousness," he added.
+
+I thought he had, and I said so. "But," I added, "give me a concrete
+example." It had been some weeks since I had listened to any of his
+detective stories, and I was athirst for another.
+
+He rose up and walked over to his pigeon-holes, each labelled with a
+letter, in alphabetical sequence.
+
+"I have only to refer to any of these to do so," he said. "Choose your
+letter."
+
+"Really, Holmes," said I, "I don't need to do that. I'll believe all you
+say. In fact, I'll write it up and _sign my name_ to any statement you
+choose to make."
+
+[Illustration: THE LAMP-POSTS WERE TWISTED]
+
+"Choose your letter, Watson," he retorted. "You and I are on terms that
+make flattery impossible. Is it F, J, P, Q, or Z?"
+
+He fixed his eye penetratingly upon me. It seemed for the moment as if I
+were hypnotized, and as his gaze fairly stabbed me with its intensity,
+through my mind there ran the suggestion "Choose J, choose J, choose J."
+To choose J became an obsession. To relieve my mind, I turned my eye
+from his and looked at the fire. Each flame took on the form of the
+letter J. I left my chair and walked to the window and looked out. The
+lamp-posts were twisted into the shape of the letter J. I returned, sat
+down, gulped down my brandy-and-soda, and looked up at the portraits of
+Holmes's ancestors on the wall. They were all J's. But I was resolved
+never to yield, and I gasped out, desperately,
+
+"Z!"
+
+"Thanks," he said, calmly. "Z be it. I thought you would. Reflex
+hypnotism, my dear Watson, is my forte. If I wish a man to choose Q, B
+takes hold upon him. If I wish him to choose K, A fills his mind. Have
+you ever observed how the mind of man repels a suggestion and flees to
+something else, merely that it may demonstrate its independence of
+another mind? Now I have been suggesting J to you, and you have chosen
+Z--"
+
+"You misunderstood me," I cried, desperately. "I did not say Z; I said
+P."
+
+"Quite so," said he, with an inward chuckle. "P was the letter I wished
+you to choose. If you had insisted upon Z, I should really have been
+embarrassed. See!" he added. He removed the green-ended box that rested
+in the pigeon-hole marked Z, and, opening it, disclosed an emptiness.
+
+"I've never had a Z case. But P," he observed, quietly, "is another
+thing altogether."
+
+Here he took out the box marked P from the pigeon-hole, and, opening it,
+removed the contents--a single paper which was carefully endorsed, in
+his own handwriting, "The Mystery of Pinkham's Diamond Stud."
+
+"You could not have selected a better case, Watson," he said, as he
+unfolded the paper and scanned it closely. "One would almost think you
+had some pre-vision of the fact."
+
+"I am not aware," said I, "that you ever told the story of Pinkham's
+diamond stud. Who was Pinkham, and what kind of a diamond stud was
+it--first-water or Rhine?"
+
+"Pinkham," Holmes rejoined, "was an American millionaire, living during
+business hours at Allegheny City, Pennsylvania, where he had to wear a
+brilliant stud to light him on his way through the streets, which are so
+dark and sooty that an ordinary search-light would not suffice. In his
+leisure hours, however, he lived at the Hotel Walledup-Hysteria, in New
+York, where he likewise had to wear the same diamond stud to keep him
+from being a marked man. Have you ever visited New York, Watson?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Well, when you do, spend a little of your time at the
+Walledup-Hysteria. It is a hotel with a population larger than that of
+most cities, with streets running to and from all points of the compass;
+where men and women eat under conditions that Lucullus knew nothing of;
+where there is a carpeted boulevard on which walk all sorts and
+conditions of men; where one pays one's bill to the dulcet strains of a
+string orchestra that woo him into a blissful forgetfulness of its size;
+and where, by pressing a button in the wall, you may summon a grand
+opera, or a porter who on request will lend you enough money to enable
+you and your family to live the balance of your days in comfort. In
+America men have been known to toil for years to amass a fortune for the
+one cherished object of spending a week in this Olympian spot, and then
+to be content to return to their toil and begin life anew, rich only in
+the memory of its luxuries. It was here that I spent my time when, some
+years ago, I went to the United States to solve the now famous Piano
+Case. You will remember how sneak thieves stole a grand piano from the
+residence of one of New York's first families, while the family was
+dining in the adjoining room. While in the city, and indeed at the very
+hotel in which I stopped, and which I have described, Pinkham's diamond
+stud disappeared, and, hearing that I was a guest at the
+Walledup-Hysteria, the owner appealed to me to recover it for him. I
+immediately took the case in hand. Drastic questioning of Pinkham showed
+that beyond all question he had lost the stud in his own apartment. He
+had gone down to dinner, leaving it on the centre-table, following the
+usual course of most millionaires, to whom diamonds are of no particular
+importance. Pinkham wanted this one only because of its associations.
+Its value, $80,000, was a mere bagatelle in his eyes.
+
+"Now of course, if he positively left it on the table, it must have been
+taken by some one who had entered the room. Investigation proved that
+the maid, a valet, a fellow-millionaire from Chicago, and Pinkham's
+children had been the only ones to do this. The maid and the valet were
+above suspicion. Their fees from guests were large enough to place them
+beyond the reach of temptation. I questioned them closely, and they
+convinced me at once of their innocence by conducting me through the
+apartments of other guests wherein tiaras of diamonds and necklaces of
+pearls--ropes in very truth--rubies, turquoise, and emerald ornaments of
+priceless value, were scattered about in reckless profusion.
+
+"'D' yez t'ink oi'd waste me toime on an eighty-t'ousand-dollar shtood,
+wid all dhis in soight and moine for the thrubble uv swipin' ut?" said
+the French maid.
+
+[Illustration: HOLMES IN DISGUISE INTERVIEWS WATTLES]
+
+"I acquitted her at once, and the valet similarly proved his innocence,
+only with less of an accent, for he was supposed to be English, and not
+French, as was the maid, although they both came from Dublin. This
+narrowed the suspects down to Mr. Jedediah Wattles, of Chicago, and
+the children. Naturally I turned my attention to Wattles. A six-year-old
+boy and a four-year-old girl could hardly be suspected of stealing a
+diamond stud. So drawing on Pinkham for five thousand dollars to pay
+expenses, I hired a room in a tenement-house in Rivington Street--a
+squalid place it was--disguised myself with an oily, black, burglarious
+mustache, and dressed like a comic-paper gambler. Then I wrote a note to
+Wattles, asking him to call, saying that I could tell him something to
+his advantage. He came, and I greeted him like a pal. 'Wattles,' said I,
+'you've been working this game for a long time, and I know all about
+you. You are an ornament to the profession, but we diamond-thieves have
+got to combine. Understand?' 'No, I don't' said he. 'Well, I'll tell
+you,' said I. 'You're a man of good appearance, and I ain't, but I know
+where the diamonds are. If we work together, there's millions in it.
+I'll spot the diamonds, and you lift 'em, eh? You can do it,' I added,
+as he began to get mad. 'The ease with which you got away with old
+Pinky's stud, that I've been trying to pull for myself for years, shows
+me that.'
+
+"I was not allowed to go further. Wattles's indignation was great enough
+to prove that it was not he who had done the deed, and after he had
+thrashed me out of my disguise, I pulled myself together and said, 'Mr.
+Wattles, I am convinced that you are innocent.' As soon as he recognized
+me and realized my object in sending for him, he forgave me, and, I must
+say, treated me with great consideration.
+
+"But my last clew was gone. The maid, the valet, and Wattles were proved
+innocent. The children alone remained, but I could not suspect them.
+Nevertheless, on my way back to the hotel I bought some rock-candy, and,
+after reporting to Pinkham, I asked casually after the children.
+
+[Illustration: "'YOU DID TOO!' SAID POLLY"]
+
+"'They're pretty well,' said Pinkham. 'Billie's complaining a little,
+and the doctor fears appendicitis, but Polly's all right. I guess
+Billie's all right too. The seventeen-course dinners they serve in the
+children's dining-room here aren't calculated to agree with Billie's
+digestion, I reckon.'
+
+"'I'd like to see 'em,' said I. 'I'm very fond of children.'
+
+"Pinkham immediately called the youngsters in from the nursery. 'Guess
+what I've got,' I said, opening the package of rock-candy. 'Gee!' cried
+Billie, as it caught his eye. 'Gimme some!' 'Who gets first piece?' said
+I. 'Me!' cried both. 'Anybody ever had any before?' I asked. 'He has,'
+said Polly, pointing to Billie. The boy immediately flushed up. ''Ain't,
+neither!' he retorted. 'Yes you did, too,' said Polly. '_You swallered
+that piece pop left on the centre-table the other night!_' 'Well,
+anyhow, it was only a little piece,' said Billie. 'An' it tasted like
+glass,' he added. Handing the candy to Polly, I picked Billie up and
+carried him to his father.
+
+"'Mr. Pinkham,' said I, handing the boy over, 'here is your diamond. It
+has not been stolen; it has merely been swallowed.' 'What?' he cried.
+And I explained. The stud mystery was explained. Mr. Pinkham's boy had
+eaten it."
+
+Holmes paused.
+
+"Well, I don't see how that proves your point," said I. "You said that
+it was the little things that told--"
+
+"So it was," said Holmes. "If Polly hadn't told--"
+
+"Enough," I cried; "it's on me, old man. We will go down to Willis's and
+have some Russian caviare and a bottle of Burgundy."
+
+Holmes put on his hat and we went out together. It is to get the money
+to pay Willis's bill that I have written this story of "The Mystery of
+Pinkham's Diamond Stud."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+LANG TAMMAS AND DRUMSHEUGH SWEAR OFF
+
+     _A tale of dialect told by Mr. Berkeley Hights, holder of the
+     twelfth ball_
+
+
+"Hoot mon!"
+
+The words rang out derisively on the cold frosty air of Drumtochty, as
+Lang Tammas walked slowly along the street, looking for the residence of
+Drumsheugh. The effect was electrical. Tammas stopped short, and turning
+about, scanned the street eagerly to see who it was that had spoken. But
+the highway was deserted, and the old man shook his stick, as if at an
+imaginary foe.
+
+"I'll hoot-mon the dour eediot that's eensoolted a veesitor to
+Drumtochty!" he shouted. "I haena brought me faithfu' steck for
+naething!" he added.
+
+He glared about, now at this closed window, now at that, as if inviting
+his enemy to come forth and be punished, but seeing no signs of life,
+turned again to resume his walk, muttering angrily to himself. It was
+indeed hardly to be tolerated that he, one of the great characters of
+fiction, should be thus jeered at, as he thought, while on a friendly
+pilgrimage from Thrums to Drumtochty, the two rival towns in the
+affections of the consumers of modern letters; and having walked all the
+way from his home at Thrums, Lang Tammas was tired, and therefore in no
+mood to accept even a mild affront, much less an insult.
+
+He had scarcely covered ten paces, however, when the same voice, with a
+harsh cackling laugh, again broke the stillness of the street:
+
+"Gang awa', gang awa'--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+Tammas rushed into the middle of the way and picked up a stone.
+
+[Illustration: "'HOOT MON!'"]
+
+"Pit your bogie pate oot o' your weendow, me gillie!" he cried. "I'll
+gie it a garry crack. Pit it oot, I say! Pit it oot!"
+
+And the old man drew himself back into an attitude which would have
+defied the powers of Phidias to reproduce in marble, the stone poised
+accurately and all too ready to be hurled.
+
+"Ye ramshackle macloonatic!" he cried. "Standin' in a weendow, where
+nane may see, an' heepin' eensoolts on deecint fowk. Pit it oot--pit it
+oot--an' get it crackit!"
+
+The reply was instant:
+
+"Gang awa', gang awa'--ha, ha, ha!"
+
+Had Lang Tammas been a creation of Lever, he would at this point have
+removed his coat and his hat and thrown them down violently to earth,
+and then have whacked the walk three times with the stout stick he
+carried in his right hand, as a preliminary to the challenge which
+followed. But Tammas was not Irish, and therefore not impulsive. He was
+Scotch--as Scotch as ever was. Wherefore he removed his hat, and, after
+dusting it carefully, hung it up on a convenient hook; took off his coat
+and folded it neatly; picked up his "faithfu' steck," and observed:
+
+"I hae naething to do that's of eemportance. Drumsheugh can wait, an'
+sae can ee. Pit it oot, pit it oot! Here I am, an' here I stay until ye
+pit it oot to be crackit."
+
+"Gang awa', gang awa'--ha, ha, ha!" came the reply.
+
+Lang Tammas turned on the instant to the sources of the sound. He fixed
+his eyes sternly on the very window whence he thought the words had
+issued.
+
+"Number twanty-three, saxth floor," he muttered to himself. "I will
+call, and then we shall see what we _shall_ see; and if what we see gets
+off wi'oot a thorough 'hootin',' then I dinna ken me beezniss."
+
+[Illustration: "A SWEET-FACED NURSE APPEARED"]
+
+Hastily discarding his outward wrath, and assuming such portions of his
+garments as went with his society manner, Tammas walked into the lobby
+of the apartment-house in which his assumed insulter lived. He pushed
+the electric button in, and shortly a sweet-faced nurse appeared.
+
+"Who are you?" she asked.
+
+"Me," said Lang Tammas, somewhat abashed. "I've called too see the head
+o' the hoose."
+
+"I am sorry," said the trained nurse, bursting into tears, "but the head
+of the house is at the point of death, sir, and cannot see you until
+to-morrow. Call around about ten o'clock."
+
+"Hoots an' toots!" sighed Lang Tammas. "Canna we Scuts have e'er a story
+wi'oot somebody leein' at the point o' death! It's most affectin', but
+doonricht wearin' on the constitootion."
+
+"Was there anything you wished to say to him?" asked the nurse.
+
+"Oh, aye!" returned Lang Tammas. "I dinna ken hoo to deny that I hed
+that to say to him, an' to do to him as weel. I'm a vairy truthfu' mon,
+young lady, an' if ye must be told, I've called to wring his garry neck
+for dereesively gee'in an unoffending veesitor frae Thrums by yelling
+deealect at him frae the hoose-tops."
+
+"Are you sure it was here?" asked the nurse, anxiously, the old
+gentleman seemed so deeply in earnest.
+
+"Sure? Oh, aye--pairfectly," replied Lang Tammas; but even as he spoke,
+the falsity of his impression was proved by the same strident voice that
+had so offended before, coming from the other side of the street:
+
+"What a crittur ye are, ye cow! What a crittur ye are!"
+
+"Soonds are hard to place, ma'am," said Lang Tammas, jerking about as if
+he had been shot. It was a very hard position for the old man, for, with
+the immediate need for an apology to the nurse, there rushed over him an
+overwhelming wave of anger. Hitherto it was merely a suspicion that he
+was being made sport of that had irritated him, but this last
+outburst--"What a crittur ye are, ye cow!"--was convincing evidence that
+it was to him that the insults were addressed; for in Thrums it is
+history that Hendry and T'nowhead and Jim McTaggart frequently greeted
+Lang Tammas's jokes with "Oh, ye cow!" and "What a crittur ye are!" But
+the old man was equal to the emergency, and fixing one eye upon the
+house opposite and the other upon the sweet-faced nurse, he darted
+glances that should kill at his persecutor, and at the same time
+apologized for disturbing the nurse. The latter he did gracefully.
+
+"Ye look aweary, ma'am," he said. "An' if the head o' the hoose maun
+dee, may he dee immejiately, that ye may rest soon."
+
+And with this, pulling his hat down over his forehead viciously, he
+turned and sped swiftly across the way. The nurse gazed anxiously after
+him, and in her secret soul wondered if she would not better send for
+Jamie McQueen, the town constable. Poor Tammas's eye was really so
+glaring, and his whole manner so manifestly that of a man exasperated to
+the verge of madness, that she considered him somewhat in the light of
+a menace to the public safety. She was not at all reassured, either,
+when Tammas, having reached the other side of the street, began
+gesticulating wildly, shaking his "faithfu' steck" at the facade of the
+confronting flat-house. But an immediate realization of the condition of
+the sick man above led her to forego the attempt to protect the public
+safety, and closing the door softly to, she climbed the weary stairs to
+the sixth floor, and soon forgot the disturbing trial of the morning in
+reading to her patient certain inspiring chapters from the Badminton
+edition of _Haggert's Chase of Heretics_, relieved with the lighter
+_Rules of Golf; or, Auld Putt Idylls_, by the Rev. Ian McCrockett, one
+of the most exquisitely confusing humorous works ever published in the
+Highlands.
+
+Lang Tammas meanwhile was addressing an invisible somebody in the
+building over the way, and in no uncertain tones.
+
+"If I were not a geentlemon and a humorist," he said, impressively,
+agitating his stick nervously at the building front, "I could say much
+that nae Scut may say. But were I nae Scut, I'd say this to ye: 'Ye have
+all the eelements of a confairmed heeritic. Ye've nae sense of deecint
+fun. Ye're not a man for a' that, as most men air--ye're an ass, plain
+and simple, wi' naether the plainness nor the simpleecity o' the
+individual that Balaam rode. Further--more--'"
+
+What Lang Tammas would have said furthermore had he not been a Scot the
+world will never know, for from the other side of the street--farther
+along, however--came the squawking voice again:
+
+"Gang awa', gang awa', ye crittur, ye cow! Hoot mon--hoot mon--hoot mon!
+Gang awa', gang awa'!" And this was followed by a raucous cry, which
+might or might not have been Scottish, but which was, in any event,
+distinctly maddening. And even as the previous insults had electrified
+poor Tammas, so this last petrified him, and he stood for an
+appreciable length of time absolutely transfixed. His mind was a curious
+study. His coming had been prompted entirely by the genial spirit which
+throbbed beneath his stony Scottish exterior. For a long time he had
+been a resident of the most conspicuous Scotch town in all literature,
+and he was himself its accepted humorist. Then on a sudden Thrums had a
+rival. Drumtochty sprang forth, and in the matter of pathos, if not
+humor, ran Thrums hard; and Lang Tammas, attracted to Drumsheugh, had
+come this distance merely to pay his respects, and to see what manner of
+man the real Drumsheugh was.
+
+[Illustration: TAMMAS MEETS DRUMSHAUGH]
+
+And this was his reception! To be laughed at--he, a Scotch humorist! Had
+any one ever laughed at a Scotch humorist before? Never. Was not the
+test of humor in Scotland the failure to laugh of the hearer of the
+jest? Would Scotch humor ever prove great if not taken seriously? Oh,
+aye! Hendry never laughed at his jokes, and Hendry knew a joke when
+he saw one. McTaggart never smiled at Lang Tammas; and as for the little
+Minister--he knew what was due to the humorist of Thrums, as well as to
+himself, and enjoyed the exquisite humor of Tammas with a reserve well
+qualified to please the Presbytery and the Congregation.
+
+How long Lang Tammas would have stood petrified no man may say; but just
+then who should come along but the person he had come to call
+upon--Drumsheugh himself.
+
+"_Knox et praeterea nihil!_" he exclaimed. "What in Glasgie hae we here?"
+
+Lang Tammas turned upon him.
+
+"Ye hae nowt in Glasgie here," he said, sternly. "Ye hae a vairy muckle
+pit-oot veesitor, wha hae coom on an airand o' good-will to be gret wi'
+eensoolts."
+
+"Eensoolts?" retorted Drumsheugh. "Eensoolts, ye say? An' wha hae bin
+eensooltin' ye?"
+
+"That I know nowt of, save that he be a doonricht foo' a-heepin' his
+deealect upon me head," said Lang Tammas.
+
+"And wha are ye to be so seensitive o' deealect?" demanded Drumsheugh.
+
+"My name is Lang Tammas--"
+
+"O' Thrums?" cried Drumsheugh.
+
+"Nane ither," said Tammas.
+
+Drumsheugh burst into an uproarious fit of laughter.
+
+"The humorist?" he cried, catching his sides.
+
+"Nane ither," said Tammas, gravely. "And wha are ye?"
+
+"Me? Oh, I'm--Drumsheugh o' Drumtochty," he replied. "Come along hame
+wi' me. I'll gie ye that to make the eensoolt seem a compliment."
+
+And the two old men walked off together.
+
+An hour later, on their way to the kirk, Drumsheugh observed that after
+the service was over he would go with Lang Tammas and seek out the man
+who had insulted him and "gie" him a drubbing, which invitation Tammas
+was nothing loath to accept. Reverently the two new-made friends walked
+into the kirk and sat themselves down on the side aisle. A hymn was
+sung, and the minister was about to read from the book, when the silence
+of the church was broken by a shrill voice:
+
+"Hoot mon! Hoot mon!"
+
+Tammas clutched his stick. The voice was the same, and here it had
+penetrated the sacred precincts of the church! Nowhere was he safe from
+insult. Drumsheugh looked up, startled, and the voice began again:
+
+"Gang awa' a-that, a-that, a-that--gang awa'! Oh, ye crittur! oh, ye
+cow!"
+
+And then a titter ran through that solemn crowd; for, despite the
+gravity of the situation, even John Knox himself must have smiled. A
+great green parrot had flown in at one of the windows, and had perched
+himself on the pulpit, where, with front undismayed, he addressed the
+minister:
+
+"Gang awa', gang awa'!" he cried, and preened himself. "Hoot mon, gang
+awa'!"
+
+"_Knox nobiscum!_" ejaculated Drumsheugh. "It's Moggie McPiggert's
+pairrut," and he chuckled; and then, as Lang Tammas realized the
+situation, even he smiled broadly. He had been insulted by a parrot
+only, and the knowledge of it made him feel better.
+
+The bird was removed and the service proceeded; and later, when it was
+over, as the two old fellows walked back to Drumsheugh's house in the
+gathering shades of the night, Lang Tammas said:
+
+"I acquet Drumtochty o' its eensoolts, Drumsheugh, but I've lairnt a
+lesson this day."
+
+"What's that?" asked Drumsheugh.
+
+"When pairruts speak Scutch deealect, it's time we Scuts gae it oop,"
+said Tammas.
+
+"I think so mysel'," agreed Drumsheugh. "But hoo express our thochts?"
+
+"I dinna ken for ye," said Lang Tammas, "but for me, mee speakee heathen
+Chinee this timee on."
+
+"Vairy weel," returned Drumsheugh. "Vairy weel; I dinna ken heathen
+Chinee, but I hae some acqueentance wi' the tongue o' sairtain
+Amairicans, and that I'll speak from this day on--it's vairy weel called
+the Bowery eediom, and is a judeecious mixture o' English, Irish, and
+Volapeck."
+
+And from that time on Lang Tammas and Drumsheugh spoke never another
+word of Scotch dialect; and while Tammas never quite mastered
+pidgin-English, or Drumsheugh the tongue of Fadden, they lived happily
+ever after, which in a way proves that, after all, the parrot is a
+useful as well as an ornamental bird.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+CONCLUSION--LIKEWISE MR. BILLY JONES
+
+
+The cheers which followed the narration of the curious resolve of Lang
+Tammas and Drumsheugh were vociferous, and Berkeley Hights sat down with
+a flush of pleasure on his face. He construed these as directed towards
+himself and his contribution to the diversion of the evening. It never
+entered into his mind that the applause involved a bit of subtle
+appreciation of the kindness of Tammas and of Drumsheugh to the reading
+public in thus declining to give them more of something of which they
+had already had enough.
+
+When the cheers had subsided Mr. Jones rose from his chair and
+congratulated the club upon its exhibit.
+
+"Even if you have but faintly re-echoed the weaknesses of the strong,"
+he said, "you have done well, and I congratulate you. It is not every
+man in your walk in life who can write as grammatically as you have
+dreamed. I have failed to detect in any one of the stories or poems thus
+far read a single grammatical error, and I have no doubt that the
+manuscripts that you have read from are gratifyingly free from mistakes
+in spelling as well, so that, from a newspaper man's stand-point, I see
+no reason why you should not get these proceedings published, especially
+if you do it at your own expense.
+
+"I now declare The Dreamers adjourned _sine die_!"
+
+"Not much!" cried the members, unanimously. "Where's your contribution?"
+
+"Out with it, William!" shouted Tom Snobbe. "I can tell by the set of
+your coat that you've got a manuscript concealed in your pocket."
+
+"There's nothing ruins the set of a coat more quickly than a rejected
+manuscript in the pocket," put in Hudson Rivers. "I've been there
+myself--so, as Lang Tammas said, Billy, 'Pit it oot, and get it
+crackit.'"
+
+"Well," Jones replied, with a pleased smile, "to tell you the truth,
+gentlemen, I had come prepared in case I was called upon; but the hour
+is late," he added, after the manner of one who, though willing, enjoyed
+being persuaded. "Perhaps we had better postpone--"
+
+"Out with it, old man. It is late, but it will be later still if you
+don't hurry up and begin," said Tenafly Paterson.
+
+"Very well, then, here goes," said Jones. "Mine is a ghost-story,
+gentlemen, and it is called 'The Involvular Club; or, The Return of the
+Screw.' It is, like the rest of the work this evening, imitative, after
+a fashion, but I think it will prove effective."
+
+[Illustration: MR. JONES BEGINS]
+
+Mr. Jones hereupon took the manuscript from his bulging pocket and read
+as follows:
+
+
+THE INVOLVULAR CLUB; OR, THE RETURN OF THE SCREW
+
+The story had taken hold upon us as we sat round the blazing hearth of
+Lord Ormont's smoking-room, at Castle Aminta, and sufficiently
+interfered with our comfort, as indeed from various points of view, not
+to specify any one of the many, for they were, after all, in spite of
+their diversity, of equal value judged by any standard, not even
+excepting the highest, that of Vereker's disturbing narrative of the
+uncanny visitor to his chambers, which the reader may recall--indeed,
+must recall if he ever read it, since it was the most remarkable
+ghost-story of the year--a year in which many ghost-stories of wonderful
+merit, too, were written--and by which his reputation was made--or
+rather extended, for there were a certain few of us, including Feverel
+and Vanderbank and myself, who had for many years known him as a
+constant--almost too constant, some of us ventured, tentatively
+perhaps, but not the less convincedly, to say--producer of work of a
+very high order of excellence, rivalling in some of its more conspicuous
+elements, as well as in its minor, to lay no stress upon his subtleties,
+which were marked, though at times indiscreetly inevident even to the
+keenly analytical, hinging as these did more often than not upon
+abstractions born only of a circumscribed environment--circumscribed, of
+course, in the larger sense which means the narrowing of a circle of
+appreciation down to the select few constituting its essence--the
+productions of the greatest masters of fictional style the world has
+known, or is likely, in view of present tendencies towards miscalled
+romance, which consists solely of depicting scenes in which bloodshed
+and murder are rife, soon to know again--it was proper it should, in a
+company chosen as ours had been from among the members of The Involvular
+Club, with Adrian Feverel at its head, Vereker as its vice-president,
+and Lord Ormont, myself, and a number of ladies, including Diana of the
+Crossways, and little Maisie--for the child was one of our cares, her
+estate was so pitiable a one--Rhoda Fleming, Daisy Miller, and Princess
+Cassimassima, one and all, as the reader must be aware, personages--if I
+may thus refer to a group of appreciation which included myself--who
+knew a good thing when they saw it, which, it may as well be confessed
+at once, we rarely did in the raucous fields of fiction outside of,
+though possibly at times moderately contiguous to, our own territory,
+although it should be said that Miss Miller occasionally manifested a
+lamentable lack of regard for the objects for which The Involvular was
+formed, by showing herself, in her semi-American way, regrettably direct
+of speech and given over not infrequently to an unhappy use of slang,
+which we all, save Maisie, who was young, and, in spite of all she knew,
+not quite so knowledgeable a young person as some superficial observers
+have chosen to believe, sincerely deprecated, and on occasion when it
+might be done tactfully, endeavored to mitigate by a reproving glance,
+or by a still deeper plunge into nebulous rhetoric, as a sort of
+palliation to the Muse of Obscurity, which in our hearts we felt that
+good goddess would accept, strove to offset.
+
+    ["Excuse me," said Mr. Tom Snobbe, rising and interrupting the
+    reader at this point, "but is that all one sentence, Mr. Jones?"
+
+    "Yes," Jones replied. "Why not? It's perfectly clear in its
+    meaning. Aren't you used to long sentences on the Hudson?" he
+    added, sarcastically.
+
+    "No," retorted Snobbe; "that is to say, not where I live. I
+    believe they have 'em at Sing Sing occasionally. But they never
+    get used to them, I'm told."
+
+    "Be quiet, Tom," said Harry Snobbe. "It's bad form to interrupt.
+    Let Billy finish his story." Mr. Jones then resumed his
+    manuscript.]
+
+A perceptible shudder ran through, or rather rolled over, the group, for
+it was corrugating in its quality, bringing forcibly to mind, quite as
+much for its chill, too, as for the wrinkling suggestion of its passage
+up and down our backs, turned as some of these were towards the fire,
+and others towards the steam-radiator, which now and again clicked
+startlingly in the dull red glow of the hearth light, augmenting the all
+too obvious nervousness of the listeners, the impassive and uninspiring
+squares of iron of which certain modern architects of a limited
+decorative sense--if, indeed, they have any at all, for the mere use of
+corrugated iron in the construction of a facade would seem not to admit
+of an aesthetic side to its designer's nature, however ornately
+distributed over the surface of an exterior it may be--have chosen to
+avail themselves, prompted either by an appalling parsimony on the part
+of a client, or for reasons of haste employed for the lack of more
+immediately available material, it being an undeniable fact that in some
+portions of the world stucco and terracotta, now frequently used in
+lieu of more substantial, if not more enduring materials, are difficult
+of access, and the use of a speedily obtainable substitute becoming thus
+a requirement as inevitable as it is to be regretted, as in the case of
+the fruit-market at Venice, standing as it does on the bank of the Grand
+Canal, a pile of stark, staring, obtrusive, wrinkling zinc thrusting
+itself brazenly into the line of a vision attuned to the most gloriously
+towering palazzos, as rich in beauty as in romance, with such
+self-sufficiency as to bring tears to the eyes of the most stolidly
+unappreciative, of the most coldly unaesthetic, or, in short, as some one
+has chosen to say, in an essay the title of which and the name of whose
+author escape us at this moment, with such complacent vulgarity as to
+amount to nothing less than a dastardly blot upon the escutcheon of the
+Venetians, which all of their glorious achievements in art, in history,
+and in letters can never quite ineradically efface, and alongside of
+which the whistling steam-tugs with their belching funnels, which are
+by slow degrees supplanting the romantic gondolier with his picturesque
+costume and his tender songs of sunny climes in the cab service of the
+Bride of the Adriatic, seem quite excusable, or, in any event, not so
+unforgivable as to constitute what the Americans would call an infernal
+shame.
+
+    [At this point the reader was interrupted again.
+
+    "Hold on a minute, Billy--will you, please?" said Tenafly
+    Paterson. "Let's get this story straight. As I understand the
+    first sentence somebody told a ghost-story, didn't he?"
+
+    "Yes," replied Jones, a trifle annoyed.
+
+    "And the second sentence means that those who heard it felt
+    creepy?"
+
+    "Precisely."
+
+    "Then why the deuce couldn't you have said, 'When So-and-So had
+    finished, the company shuddered'?"
+
+    "Because," replied Jones, "I am reading a story which is
+    constructed after the manner of a certain school. I'm not reading
+    a postal-card or a cable message."
+
+    The reader then resumed.]
+
+Miss Miller, to relieve the strain upon the nerves of those present,
+which was becoming unbearably tense--and, in fact, poor Maisie had burst
+into tears with the sheer terror of the climax, and had been taken off
+to be put to bed by Mrs. Brookenham, who, in spite of many other
+qualities, was still a womanly woman at heart, and not wholly deficient
+in those little tendernesses, those trifling but ineffable softnesses of
+nature, which are at once the chief source of woman's strength and of
+her weakness, a fact she was constantly manifesting to us during our
+stay at Lord Ormont's, and which we all remarked and in some cases
+commented upon, since the discovery had in it some of the qualities of a
+revelation--began to sing one of those extraordinary popular songs that
+one hears at the music-halls in London, and in the politer and more
+refined circles of American society, if indeed there may be said to be
+such a thing in a land so new as to be as yet mostly veneer, with little
+that is solid in its social substructure, beginning as its constituent
+factors do at the top and working downward, rather than choosing the
+more natural course of beginning at the bottom and working upward, and
+which must materially, one may think, affect the social solidarity of
+the nation by retarding its growth and in otherwise interfering with its
+healthy, not to say normal development, and which, as the words and
+import of it come back to me, was known by the rather vulgar and
+vernacular title of "All Coons Look Alike to Me," thus indicating that
+the life treated of in the melody, which was not altogether unmusical,
+and was indeed as a matter of fact quite fetching in its quality,
+running in one's ears for days and nights long after its first hearing,
+was that of the negro, and his personal likeness to his other black
+brethren in the eyes even of one who was supposed to have been at one
+time, prior to the action of the song if not coincidently with it, the
+object of his affections.
+
+    [Had Jones not been wholly absorbed in the reading of this
+    wonderful story, he might at this moment have heard a slight but
+    unmistakable rumbling sound, and have looked up and seen much that
+    would have interested him. But, as this kind of a story requires
+    for its complete comprehension a complete concentration of mind,
+    he did not hear, and so, continuing, did not see.]
+
+[Illustration: HE DID NOT SEE]
+
+Diana was the first to mitigate the silence with comment [he read] a
+silence whose depth had only been rendered the more depressing by Miss
+Miller's uncalled-for intrusion upon our mood of something that smacked
+of a society towards which most of us, in so far as we were able to do
+so, had always cultivated a strenuous aloofness, prompted not by any
+whelmful sense of our own perfection, latent or obvious, but rather by a
+realization on our part that it lacked the essentials that could make of
+it an interesting part of the lives of a group given over wholly, or
+at least as nearly wholly as the exiguities of existence would permit of
+a persistent and continuous devotion, to the contemplation of the
+beautiful in art, letters, or any other phase of human endeavor.
+
+"And did his soul never thaw?" Diana asked.
+
+"Never," replied Vanderbank, "It is frozen yet."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Here the rumbling sound grew to such volume that, absorbed as he was in
+his reading, Jones could no longer fail to hear it. Lowering his
+manuscript, he looked sternly upon the company. The rumbling sound was a
+chorus, not unmusical, of snores.
+
+_The Dreamers slept._
+
+"Well, I'll be hanged!" cried Jones, angrily, and then he walked over
+and looked behind the screen where the stenographer was seated. "I'll
+finish it if it takes all night," he muttered. "Just take this down,"
+he added to the stenographer; but that worthy never stirred or made
+reply. _He too was sleeping._
+
+Jones muttered angrily to himself.
+
+"Very well," he said. "I'll read it to myself, then," and he began
+again. For ten minutes he continued, and then on a sudden his voice
+faltered; his head fell forward upon his chest, his knees collapsed
+beneath him, and he slid inert, and snoring himself, into his chair. The
+MS. fluttered to the floor, and an hour later the waiters entering the
+room found the club unanimously engaged in dreaming once more.
+
+The Involvular Club was too much for them, even for the author of it,
+but whether this was because of the lateness of the hour or because of
+the intricacies of the author's style I have never been able to
+ascertain, for Mr. Jones is very sore on the point, and therefore
+reticent, and as for the others, I cannot find that any of them remember
+enough about it to be able to speak intelligently on the subject.
+
+[Illustration: THE STENOGRAPHER SLEPT]
+
+All I do know is what the landlord tells me, and that is that at 5 A.M.
+thirteen cabs containing thirteen sleeping souls pursued their thirteen
+devious ways to thirteen different houses, thus indicating that the
+Dreamers were ultimately adjourned, and, as they have not met since, I
+presume the adjournment was, as usual, _sine die_.
+
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+  BY A. CONAN DOYLE
+
+
+  THE REFUGEES. A Tale of Two Continents. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth,
+  Ornamental, $1.75.
+
+
+  THE WHITE COMPANY. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.75.
+
+
+  MICAH CLARKE. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.75; 8vo,
+  Paper, 45 cents.
+
+
+  THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth,
+  Ornamental, $1.50.
+
+     CONTENTS: A Scandal in Bohemia, The Red-headed League, A Case of
+     Identity, The Boscombe Valley Mystery, The Five Orange Pips, The
+     Man with the Twisted Lip, The Blue Carbuncle, The Speckled Band,
+     The Engineer's Thumb, The Noble Bachelor, The Beryl Coronet, The
+     Copper Beeches.
+
+
+  MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental,
+  $1.50.
+
+     CONTENTS: Silver Blaze, The Yellow Face, The Stock-Broker's Clerk,
+     The "Gloria Scott," The Musgrave Ritual, The Reigate Puzzle, The
+     Crooked Man, The Resident Patient, The Greek Interpreter, The Navy
+     Treaty, The Final Problem.
+
+
+  THE PARASITE. A Story. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental,
+  $1.00.
+
+
+  THE GREAT SHADOW. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.00.
+
+
+  HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS
+  NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+  _Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid,
+  to any part of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt
+  of the price._
+
+
+
+
+  BY FRANK R. STOCKTON
+
+
+  THE ASSOCIATE HERMITS. A Novel. Illustrated by A. B. Frost. Post 8vo,
+  Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.
+
+     If there is a more droll or more delightful writer now living than
+     Mr. Frank R. Stockton we should be slow to make his acquaintance,
+     on the ground that the limit of safety might be passed.... Mr.
+     Stockton's humor asserts itself admirably, and the story is
+     altogether enjoyable.--_Independent._
+
+     The interest never flags, and there is nothing intermittent about
+     the sparkling humor.--_Philadelphia Press._
+
+
+  THE GREAT STONE OF SARDIS. A Novel. Illustrated by PETER NEWELL. Post
+  8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.
+
+     The scene of Mr. Stockton's novel is laid in the twentieth century,
+     which is imagined as the culmination of our era of science and
+     invention. The main episodes are a journey to the centre of the
+     earth by means of a pit bored by an automatic cartridge, and a
+     journey to the North Pole beneath the ice of the Polar Seas.
+     These adventures Mr. Stockton describes with such simplicity
+     and conviction that the reader is apt to take the story in all
+     seriousness until he suddenly runs into some gigantic pleasantry of
+     the kind that was unknown before Mr. Stockton began writing, and
+     realizes that the novel is a grave and elaborate bit of fooling,
+     based upon the scientific fads of the day. The book is richly
+     illustrated by Peter Newell, the one artist of modern times who
+     is suited to interpret Mr. Stockton's characters and situations.
+
+
+  HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS
+  NEW YORK AND LONDON
+
+  _Either of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid,
+  to any part of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt of
+  the price._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcribers Notes:
+
+
+The following printing mistakes have been corrected:
+
+    Page 116 - question mark removed, comma substituted
+    Page 121 - period replaced by comma
+    Pages 154, 180 - spurious double quote removed
+
+Also illustrations have been moved to adjust within paragraph breaks.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Dreamers, by John Kendrick Bangs
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