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GOOD GUMPTION

This fellotv is ivise enough to flay thefool^
And to do that tvell craves a kind of xvit.

Shakespeare: Twelfth Night; act iii., scene :.

Tou hear that boy laughing ? — you think he's all fun j
But the angels laugh^ too^ at the good he has done.

Oli\'er Wendell Holmes : The Boys ; stanza 9.

REVEREND. C. A. JENKENS.

GOOD GUMPTION

OR

THE STORY OF A WISE FOOL

Being the Somewhat Humoious Chronicle, Set Down by Himself, of

the Life and Doings of the Reverend Heredity Beans, Doctor of

Divinity, Who Started Life as a Patent Office Production,

Was Looked upon by His Enemies and Others as a

Lunatic, but Who "Got There" When They

Didn't, Who Became Respected and Feared

as Weil as Loved and Honored, and Who

Did His Duty to God and Man.

By C. A. JENKENS

Author of Some Unpublished Jokes, Numerous Mistakes, and a
Heap of Excellent but Rejected Poetry on "Spring."

W^ITH ILLUSTRATIONS

Nashville, Tenn.

The Southwestern Company

Waco, Tex. Topeka, Kans. Macon, Ga.

COPYRIGHT. 1S07

BY

c

A . JENKENS

AH rights reserved

To those who have
GOOD GUMPTION

that they may keep it

and to those who haven't

that they may get it

this book is cordially

DEDICATED

From the croivn of his head to the sole of his foot ^
he is all ?}2irth. . . . He hath a heart as sound as a
dell, and his tongue is the clapper ; for what his
heart thinks, his tongue speaks.

Shakespeare: Much Ado About Nothing; act iii., scene 3.

/ cannot hope to entertain you ivith a merely hu-
morous or facetious story. Harlequin ivithotit his
mask is knoivn to present a very sober cou?itenance,
and was hitnself the story goes, the melancholy pa-
tient %vhom the doctor advised to go and see Harlequin
— a 772an fill of cares and perplexities like the rest
of us, whose self must always be serious to him,
under whatever mask or disguise or uniform he pre-
sents hitnself to the public. . . . TJic hufnorous
writer professes to awaken and direct your love, your
pity, your kindness j your scorn for untruth, prete?z-
siofi, ifnposturej yo7ir tenderness for the weak, the
poor, the oppressed, the unhappy. To the best of his
means and ability he comme7tts 07i all the ordinary ac-
tions a7id passio7is of life ahnost. He takes upo7i him-
self to be the xveek-day preacher^ so to speak. Ac-
cordingly, as hefnds, and speaks, a7id feels the truth
best, we regard hi7n, esteem — so7netitnes love him.

Thackeray: The English Humorists.

The Contents

Page

Foreword 13

Introduction by Montgomery F. Essig. 15

Chapter

I. Keeping up the Stock 19

II. Passing of the Circus." 28

III. The Show's Aftermath 40

IV. Stampeded Hornets 46

V. Toadville's Barbecue 54

VI. The Capers of Cupid 64

VII. The SpelHng Bee 76

VIII. Reviving Shouting Church 88

IX. I Do Some Courting 102

X. At Sheepskin College 114

XI. A $75,000 Farce 126

XII. I Go to the War 138

XIII. Starting in Life 150

XIV. Blindfolded Justice 168

XV. Innocence Abroad 184

XVI. Among the Witches 198

XVII. Paying the Hotel Bill 206

XVIII. I Raise Some Spirits 226

XIX. The House That Jack Built 238

XX. My First Sermon 250

XXL Miss Sook Shoestrings 262

(9)

10 The Contents

Chapter Page

XXII. Sennacherib Tongs Weds 274

XXIII. I Become a Married Man 28.?

XXIV. A Pastoral Visit 29c

XXV. Cupid Gone Mad 298

XXVI. A Sack of Socks 306

XXVII. New Responsibilities 320

XXVIII. The Average Girl 332

XXIX. A Saturday Diary 342

XXX. The Mantle of Elijah 358

XXXI. And What Is Man? 372

XXXII. Shouting Church's Fate 386

XXXIII. My Autobiography 394

The Illustrations

Page

Frontispiece, portrait of C. A. Jenkens 4

"'The stock must be kept up, for there's virtue in good

blood" 21

"I came upon my father standing upon a box reading the

show bills" 31

*'As for my mother's husband, he had assumed the role

of clown" 43

■'The hornets, angry at such treatment, issued forth". ... 51
"If there cc-uld be anything in wind, the canal was a sure

thing" 59

" 'Let's be sweethearts, Red' " JTi

"My father clapped his hands, exclaiming, 'Knowledge is

power!'" 83

" 'We expect to hear from you immediately, sister. . . .

Give a lusty shout for the Lord' " 97

" 'Sweetest sugar,' I said, with dripping softness. 'I have

come to — ' " 107

"I imagined I had pulled the spigot out of a volcano". ... 117
"Taking out my shabby old purse, I invited the youth to
look within and report to the Eagle Emporium v.hat

he saw" 135

"Immediately inverting the order of Bucephalus's extrem-
ities ... I fired both barrels of my gun toward

the blue dome of heaven" 147

"What should I do for a living?" 151

"The counsel for the defense arose, and in a bland, seduc-
tive manner addressed the immaculate twelve" 175

"I . . . arrived at length at the scene of the fire". .. . 189
"The lights were immediately turned on and revealed an
audience standing on tiptoe, gazing upon a captured

ghost" 203

" 'Go 'long, muley ; go on, sir,' shrieked the irate priestess
of benevolence" 221

CO

12 The Illustrations

Page

" 'Story ! Story ! Big story ! It's not so, Mr, Thomp-
son ; I'm only an advanced girl,' ejaculated Miss Dor-
othy" • • • 233

"Behold ! I saw, as in a vision, my church blown to pieces
by a violent storm" 247

" ' That's my boy, gentlemen. Open both your ears to-
day. It's in him; I tell you it's in him' " 259

" 'Brother Beans, see that gal lookin' like she wa'n't think-
in' 'bout nothin'? She ain't no idiot. Brother Beans,
Sook ain't' " 269

"Finally I took out my treasure, opened the envelope, and
behold ! it was a marriage license" 279

"I somewhat unceremoniously grabbed what I thought
was the bride" 287

*' 'For the sake of decency, go home and take off your
gaudy riggings, . . . wash the children, and say
your prayers' " 293

"And there entered a maiden lady, on whose brow had
sported the joyous zephyrs of at least sixty-five sum-
mers, followed by a timid youth of seventeen" 299

"Opening the mouth of my sack, I transferred five pairs of
socks to Pat's possession" 315

"I ran obliviously into the pulpit and gave out the 3000th

hymn" 327

" 'She plays one air and puts on ten thousand' " 337

" 'I'm your wife's cousin's sister's uncle's nephew's broth-
er's niece's son by step-marriage' " 347

"I began parading the streets with a banner on one side of
which were emblazoned the Ten Commandments and
on the other a cross" 361

"At the mayor's ofiice, the Irish sister, among others, do-
nated a pair of twins, to the -hilarious amusement of
many spectators" 377

" 'Shoutin' Church is like unto the seven churches of Asia,
which was blotted off'n the face of the airth' " 387

" 'I want you to jot down a few items which I neglected
to give my biographer' " 395

Foreword

Good Gumption was designed by its author, the
Reverend C. A. Jenkens, of Statesville, N. C, to serve
two strong purposes. First and foremost, it is a pro-
test against sham, hypocrisy, cant, and humbuggery,
without mercy for either the age, sex, or rank of the
persons in whom these evils are manifested. Sec-
ondly, it is a plea for the man from the country — the
individual usually pictured and described as a boorish,
brainless, unlettered "easy mark," but who, neverthe-
less, is the backlDone of his nation, whether American,
British, German, French, or Russian. Outwardly the
book is a work of humor ; inwardly it is as serious a
story as ever was written.

Long ago Mr. Jenkens determined to write some-
thing that would strip the mask from those men and
women who impose themselves upon the world as
good citizens and Christians, but who, at heart, are
emissaries of the Evil One. Consideration of the
scheme of the work, however, revealed the necessity
of broadening it to embrace other forms of humbug-
gery than the mere religious fraud. Air. Jenkens
found great difficulty in deciding what medium to
employ for the expression of his thoughts. He knew
only too well that he might be gifted with the pen of
a prophet and yet fail to convince his readers, that
he might shout his message from the housetops and
yet fail to reach the ears of the hurrving multitude

(13)

14 Foreword

below, and that he might address his pubHc in all
seriousness and yet fail to have it learn the lesson he
sought to teach. And he knew, too, that people like
to be amused, and that the greatest of statesmen, ora-
tors, and teachers never have scorned to press home
great truths by means of a funny story. So grew the
idea of Heredity Beans, a country parson, who seemed
to be a fool, but wasn't, who had to figure out for him-
self the right way to live and then to live it, and who
crusaded against evils with the devoted purpose of a
knight of chivalry and the mental alertness of a Gov-
ernor Folk.

In describing the rise of his hero from backwoods
lad to metropolitan pastor, Mr. Jenkens grasped the
opportunity thus afforded to show how the straight-
forward, honest, unsophisticated countryman, after
all, is the true type of national manhood. And so Mr.
Jenkens's book took shape as a work of humor —
something funny — a satire upon men, women, and
things that are humbugs masquerading in the guise
of good — a jest, if you will, but a jest in earnest; a
joke, but a joke with a great, grim, practical truth
behind it.

Introduction

While mankind exists no age will be without its
evils in persons and things. Sometimes the person is
the cause of the evil in the thing ; sometimes the thing
breeds evil in the person. Some men do wrong be-
cause they like it, others because they ^re forced to do
it; but more than either of these' classes do wrong
and try to hide it because they want their fellows to
think they are doing right.

In this class are to be found the shams, hypocrites,
humbugs, frauds, grafters, and the political, financial,
and social parasites that so plentifully blot modern
civilization. It is this class, too, that is hardest to
detect and most difficult to suppress. Science is nul-
lifying rapidly many of the great evils that for-
merly flourished, popular government is eradicating
others, and wise legislation and administration still
others; but the sham, the humbug, the hypocrite, and
the fraud continue to eke out their existence and
dodge the hands that attempt to root them out. Dou-
ble-faced, nimble-footed, and cunning-minded, they are
always with us, preying upon us with specious
schemes, with the evil-hiding cloak of religion, and
with the glitter they would have us believe gold.

How best can they be fought? Assuredly not by
learned, ponderous essays, "too deep" and too dry
for the masses of the people that are the favorite prey
of the evil against which they are directed. Assured-

(^5)

16 Introduction

ly not by eloquent preaching and oration, too rare and
too easily misunderstood, alas ! in this practical age of
ours. Assuredly not by experience, if we are to be-
lieve P. T. Barnum's aphorism that people like to be
humbugged. And to the hypocrite and the humbug
government and legislation alike are impotent.

Why not fight them with humor, with the shafts
of satire, with the clubs of ridicule and caricature?
Many an evil man who failed to yield to the thunder of
spoken or written denunciation or dodged the pursuit
of legislation has been forced to hide his head from
the derision of the wit, cartoonist, and fun-maker.
Why? Because it is not in the nature of mankind to
resist such things. It hurts a man more to laugh at
him than to fight him. Too often he can fight back
and fight better, or at least with more cunning than
his antagonist. But for the evil man or the evil thing
to laugh back is well-nigh impossible. The amusing,
the comic, the laughable often is more potent than the
serious, the learned, the argumentative. Commodore
Vanderbilt, who knew human nature pretty thorough-
ly, once sought to entertain a party of guests by ofifer-
ing them a highly scientific lecture by a noted special-
ist in astronomy. The learned lecturer received a
neat check for his discourse, but the entertainment
was not a success. The next night a specialist in
humor was engaged. Measuring the man's value by
the results of his work, Vanderbilt gave him a check
for more than four times the sum paid to the man of
science, observing that the money had been better
earned.

The author of this book, which is designed to fight

Introduction 17

the sham, the hypocrite, and the humbug, has seen fit
to do battle with the weapons of the humorist. His
Heredity Beans, country lad, preacher, crusader, and
reformer, is a strong type. He strikes at the heart of
things. He spares none of the falsities of life. The
sham revivalist, the sham lawyer, the sham editor,
the sham pastor, the sham man and the sham woman,
sham justice and sham religion receive their thrashing
at his hands. In creating him the author makes us
laugh, but with his keen satire he realizes Dryden's
truism, "The end of satire is the amendment of vices
by correction," as well as the truth of Frederick the
Great's view of it, "The connection between vice and
meanness is a fit subject for satire, but when the satire
is a fact it cuts with the irresistible power of a dia-
mond."

And this is the weapon the author of Good Gump-
tion wields — a strong, sharp, clean-cutting sword
which cleaves its way into the mass of sham and error
he has found in the world and among men, laying bare
their hypocricies, discovering their shame, and perrriit-
ting his readers to see the evil hearts that beat under
the otherwise fair surfaces.

Follow Heredity Beans from the hour of his birth
and you will find him constantly turning up the falsi-
ties and absurdities with which men and women hood-
wink their fellow-men and women, and exposing their
follies, frailties, and foibles. Even his father, with
his absurd caveat, he does not spare. The shallow,
money-making evangelist comes in for a share of his
ridicule. The youth Toothpick, proud of his birth and
fortune and yet a loser in the game of love, has his

18 Introduction

counterpart in many, many instances of real life. And
how often do we hear from our courts of justice just
such stories as Heredity tells in the case of Turnipins,
and again how often do we see in real life just such
falsities as Beans shows us he found on his visit to
Philadelphia.

And still again how often do we see just such ef-
feminate, silly, and heresy-teaching preachers as the
individual the Reverend Mr. Beans told to go and take
himself out of the world. Notice also the advertise-
ment of patent medicine which Beans concocted, and
observe how like it is to the advertisements of the cure-
all remedies one sees in the papers or displayed upon
bill boards. Notice again his chapter on the average
girl. It is no insult to the good womanhood of our
land to write such things, for alas, it only too true
that many girls nowadays are nothing like the capable,
intelligent, and frugal housewives that their mothers
and grandmothers were. In this respect, at least,
modern education and modern society have done little
to commend themselves to mankind. Certainly Hered-
ity Beans' experience with the average girl was a real
one. And to crown it all, how like humanity is it that
Beans, at the prime of his career, should sit down to
dictate a biography of himself that should be pub-
lished after his death. It is true indeed that "all is
vanity."

To all who love truth as well as to all who love fun.
Good Gumption should prove a mine of amusement
as well as a field for fruitful and profitable thought.

Montgomery F. Essig.

Nashville, Tenn., i February, 1907.

KEEPING UP THE STOCK

Chapter I.

Cucumber Beans was my father — that's the rea-
son I am his son.

He was an ardent behever in heredity, and held that
good blood is the basis of all nobility and genius, and
that to improve the blood of the human race is the gos-
pel of nature and the goal of philosophy. Bad stock,
he argued, is the sole cause of pauperism, riot, crime,
and war. "A man is the sum of his antecedents," he
declared. "Improve the stock, and you hasten the
Millennium."

Thus heredity, antecedents, environment, stock, and
blood were large and meaningful words in my father's
vocabulary ; but this is no marvel, since he claimed an
ancestry threading its way back through the centuries
to Alfred the Great, whose distinction was due to his
good blood. Starting with this royal founder, he rec-
ognized as branches of the family tree Sir Isaac New-
ton, Dr. Samuel Johnson, and Wordsworth the poet,
in England; and in America, Washington, William
Cullen Bryant, and himself. He was known frequent-
ly to observe that the family had improved with each
generation, and, in all likelihood, would be perfected in
his offspring. Since I am that offspring, modesty
forbids further comment.

(^9)

20 Good Gumption

My father, in his later hfe, loved Darwin with no
common love, and studied, with the enthusiasm of a
specialist, the great naturalist's theories regarding the
evolution of living things, including man, from the
lower forms of life. But long before Darwin gave his
theories to the world my father had thought out and
perfected his own. Therefore, try as he might and re-
spect the great scientist as he did, he always declared
Darwin's ideas were simply a development — logical
enough in view of the advance of science — of the great
Beans hypothesis. And so he learned by heart the cele-
brated story of the tame pigeons transported to an un-
inhabited island where their descendants, freed from
the care and constant attention of civilization, lost the
beautiful ornamentations of color and marking which
had characterized their civilized ancestors, and doffing
their bright spots, rings, and stripes, put on the dark
blue of the old original type. There is just as real a
"reversion to type" in the case of mankind as in that of
pigeons, he contended ; and on this broad principle he
explained the treachery of Judas, the inhumanity of
Nero, the infidelity of Thomas Paine, and, in later
years, the lunacy of Mrs. Mary Baker Eddy. All
downward tendencies being regarded as demonstra-
tions of this law, his favorite maxim was "The stock
must be kept up, for there's virtue in good blood."

In view of this pronounced tendency on my father's
part, it will not excite surprise when I say that he
spent two winters at a sanitarium seeking to regain
the health he had lost in an attempt to solve the prob-
lem as to the best method of producing perfect human
stock. At length his theory reached such a stage of

'the stock must be kept up, for there s virtue in good blood.

(21)

22 Good Gumption

development that he formally applied through an at-
torney for a patent, but succeeded only in getting a
caveat. The application filed in the Patent Office at
Washington — which out-Darwined Darwin and ante-
dated him as well — set forth the following:

Genius seems to grow in forks, without symmetry, bal-
ance, or unity. This is due to the faulty processes of hered-
ity, and can be prevented only by due observance of the laws
of natural fitness. It is a defect in selection when genius is
imperfect. It is a solecism for a great man to be noted for
any one thing ; for he should be noted for everything alike.
The great men of the ages are potent illustrations of defective
hereditation [you'll notice he coined a word to fit his theory],
none of them being noted for a variety of excellencies and
powers, but all monotonously remarkable for only one thing.
For example, when Napoleon Bonaparte is mentioned, we do
not think of poetry, music, literature, or statesmanship, but
only of blood and war. He is a warrior, and nothing more
— strong in only one point. On the other hand, when Jeffer-
son is mentioned, we do not think of battles, but of statecraft
and government. He is of interest to us in one function only.

So we associate only one idea generally with every great
man. Aristotle stands for logic ; Plato for philosophy ;
Shakespeare for poetry ; Washington for patriotism ; Cicero
for eloquence ; Rothschild for money ; Moses for law ; St. Paul
for religion ; Jenny Lind for song ; Beethoven for music ; Hum-
boldt for learning; and Cucumber Beans for discoveries in
heredity.

These are all one-sided and deformed characters. Genius
should be remarkable for everything — that is, it should be uni-
versal. For instance, the ideal man should have the logical
trend of Aristotle, the philosophical astuteness of Plato, the
poetic gift of Homer, the artistic sense of Raphael, Michael
Angelo, or Landseer, the statesmanship of William Pitt, the
heroism of Leonidas, the martial spirit of Alexander, the elo-
quence of Demosthenes, the mathematical genius of Euclid,

Keeping Up the Stock 23

the inventive talent of Fulton, the musical sense of Handel,
the linguistic power of Mezzofanti, the physical strength of a
Samson, and the beauty of an Apollo. This composite char-
acter, which is at once the world's greatest need and greatest
problem, can be produced when the beneficent laws of evolu-
tion have been heeded by mankind.

The undersigned prays for letters patent on "A Discovery
of the Natural Method for the Production of Universal Gen-
ius." The processes on which protection is craved are set
forth as follows : Since the quality of the stock determines
the existence and scope of genius, the adaptability of parties
contracting marriage to each other is of prime importance.
Each should be the most perfect specimen of the physical,
mental, and moral homo, each suited to the other by the best
possible natural and spiritual combinations. Hence lunatics,
idiots, and fools should not marry. This necessary arrange-
ment would reduce the quantity but increase the quality, there-
by hastening the race to its perfect goal.

Moreover, it is an indispensable condition that no member
of a family in which there has been a defaulter, criminal,
drunkard, sneak, or knave shall enter the marital state. No
person coming from stock inclined to infidelity, atheism, sui-
cide, or divorce should enter into matrimony, since such stock
can produce only a degenerate species. Further, a low brow,
a decayed tooth, a cross eye, freckles, moles, or warts* should
prove barriers to wedlock. The law of heredity prevents also
from entering into the marriage state all ugly people, women
with shrill voices or mustaches, men who talk through the nose,
or have bowlegs, and all specimens of stock subject to gossip
or other disease. Before marriage, the family records should
be inspected by an oflficer duly appointed by the law, to see
that these precautions are complied with.

Ages should be adjusted; for the union of a girl of sixteen
and a man of fifty is a crime against nature. There should be,
furthermore, harmony of form, hair, eyes, size, tastes, and
intellectual and moral affinities.

In the production of universal genius, the laws of environ-

24 Good Gumption

ment as well as those of heredity, must be considered. Hence
an infant should not be allowed to taste bad food, to smell
bad odors, hear discordant sounds, feel rough surfaces, or
see unsightly objects. All the senses, from their earliest use,
should be cultivated assiduously to produce the perfect man.

Parents, therefore, should see to it that their offspring have
not their senses shocked b\- bad pictures, harsh tones, grating
voices, ungraceful movements, untidy rooms, the popping of
firecrackers or other explosives, or the barking of dogs. Nor
should the babe be startled by the scream of a cat, the hoot
of an owl, the crow of a cock, or the yell of a boy. The
mother should speak only in soft notes, never harshly or
angrily, and sing only the sweetest melodies ; and the father
should not sing at all until the sense of sound has been fairly
developed in the child. The baby carriage should be wheeled
only along the most beautiful streets and through the parks,
never entering the alleys and back streets, lest the child should
behold some object likely to deform its sense of beauty. It
never must be permitted for a moment to become the victim
of mosquitoes, flies, or gnats, lest bad impressions be made that
will give rise to wrong views of life.

The Patent Office man recognized the originality
and profundity of the document from which the above
is extracted, but modestly suggested that he feared
the conditions could be met only in the latter part of
the Millennium. Father, however, insisted that there
could be no Millennium until the postulates advocated
should be accepted as the basis of civilization. Be
that as it may, the experiment was tried on me, and
worked well.

My name is Heredity Beans ; for short, they called
me "Red" Beans. At my birth, the rooster was ban-
ished from the yard, the old eight-day clock was muf-
fled, and the door-bell was removed in order that I

Keeping Up the Stock 25

might not have my musical sense impaired. This was
the negative arrangement; on the positive side, my
father w^as playing an air on an old accordion, a verita-
ble heirloom, in order that my powers of harmony
might be quickened at the start. Garlic and onions
were banished from the premises, lest evil should be-
fall my olfactory organs. The best pictures were ar-
ranged on the walls of the room, and every other pre-
caution taken to promote artistic vision, according to
the provisions of the caveat.

I had all the diseases that a first-class baby ought to
have, and particularly a full assortment of the thrash,
which I caught from my father whenever my wakeful
idiosyncrasies demanded a promenade in the night.
My parent betrayed here his usual judgment, failing to
observe that I possessed an active brain, and an in-
quiring turn of mind. He also forgot that I was born
in my native land, and that, as a true patriot, I wished
to know something of my country. Who would enter
a strange land and be stupid enough to sleep forever
while most novel and interesting events momentarily
were taking place? Who would be so insensible as to
close his eyes to the charming beauties and curious
sights of a new country? Every moment disclosed
novel objects of interest — every hour introduced won-
ders to my attention.

Of course, such phenomena made due impressions
on my plastic faculties, and, in attempting to grapple
with them, I simply followed the law of my nature.
Forsooth, because I was natural, I must be swung in a
cradle and have a funeral dirge sung over me, or be
jerked into a mild spasm, and scolded, or be bounced

26 Good Gumption

up and down on the floor, at the rate of forty miles an
hour, as if I had done something. Was there any
caveat for that, I wonder?

When all other remedies failed, I was overpowered,
thrown back on a pillow, gagged, and made to swal-
low a small apothecary shop. This treatment seemed
weird in the extreme. I wanted to inquire about the
lamp — I had never seen a lamp before. I wanted to
see myself in the looking-glass. I wanted to get ac-
quainted with my parents. I desired to be social and
extend my friendships ; for my circle of acquaintances
was very small. And for this commendable spirit I
was abused. Yet I said nothing.

Does not that great document, the Constitution of
the United States, declare that all men are born free
and equal? Then, if a man can lie awake all night
with impunity, why should a baby's liberties be cur-
tailed because of insomnolence ? I insist just here that
the United States, having adopted the sentiment above
mentioned, ought to arise from the lethargy of a cen-
tury and defend the rights of so numerous and respect-
able a class of its citizens when they cry. But when I
cried I only got paregoric. In spite of all this, I was
my mother's favorite child — she had but one — and she
must have thought a great deal of me, for she bought
out a drug-store, when I was but two weeks old, to
make me comfortable. At all events, that's my fa-
ther's affidavit, and he ought to know — for it broke
him.

My physical sufferings were slight compared with
the pangs of intellect I endured in my infancy. I re-
member especially the mortification I underwent at the

Keeping Up the Stock 27

strange antics of my parents. For instance, my fa-
ther would seize me frantically, hold me up at arms'
length over his head in the air, look straight up at me,
and laugh ; then he \\ould spread out my heels, let my
stomach come down on his head, and then ruh my face
against his nose. These capers seemed so foolish that
I often wept. And my mother, too, would do and say
such odd things. She would address me as "feety itsy
sing." There is no such language; how could she
expect me to understand it? She would not accost a
goat that way. T was greatly grieved. At other
times she greeted me on waking as "oo precious lub-
bie angle." It appeared to me to be inexpressibly silly
that my parents should do such things, and I was
ashamed of their conduct.

Having passed with considerable credit through my
pupilage in gnawing rattles, butting my head against
the floor, and mashing my fingers in the door, I was
at length garbed in pants, and put in possession of a
hobbyhorse. This part of my life was without incident
further than that when I dreamed of Indians scalping
me, and, in consequence, kicked ofif the bed covers
with appropriate fuss, I was denounced as a disturber
of sleep, and accused of eating too much supper. Then
I was laid out in my crib again, with a Webster's Un-
abridged Dictionary on top of me to prevent a repeti-
tion of my offense. The love-sick maid may sing, "Oh !
make me a child again just for a night," but Heredity
Beans wouldn't be a child again for a couple of mints

Still, allowance must be made for my early impres-
sions, since I was very voune when I was born.

PASSING OF THE CIRCUS

Chapter II.

Under the gracious laws of heredity I increased
daily in innocence and wisdom. My father rejoiced
as he observed my feats of jumping over chicken
coops, climbing trees, and walking on the roofs of
houses ; and especially did he express himself in terms
of unmeasured praise whenever I sprang into the air
and struck my heels together three times before touch-
ing the ground. And it was the more gratifying to
him because the average boy does well to crack his
heels together twice while in the air. Indeed, this
trick impressed my father so profoundly that he tried
it himself; but seeing that, as a consequence, he suf-
fered from a sprained ankle for three weeks, he gave
it up — not the ankle, but the trick — maintaining that
such wonderful control of the muscles on my part indi-
cated that the stock had reached perfection.

The world seemed to me to get bigger and bigger
every day. What an immense thing the earth is to a
boy ! When, however, it was announced in the "Toad-
ville Times" that John Robinson's Huge and Unri-
valed Circus would exhibit at the villagfe two weeks
thence, I concluded that the globe could get no larger
without serious injury to its internal arrangements.
The stores and fences of Toadville were adorned with

(28)

Passing of the Circus 29

flaming pictures of the world's great wonders in the
form of gigantic mules, accomplished horses, dwarf
ponies, trained dogs, educated pigs, a herd of ele-
phants, giraffes, monkeys, birds of every plumage, wa-
ter animals, the fat woman, a giant, a family of pyg-
mies, splendid chariots drawn by richly caparisoned
camels, and many other sights that seemed possible
only in the realm of the imagination. Father said,
with some vehemence, that he was sure he would never
be caught at a show. My mother added, with un-
wonted emphasis, that respectable people were never
seen at such places; certainly it was out of keeping
with the Beanses. But father, seeming a little excited,
took his beaver and said he believed he would walk
down to town ; he thought he needed a little exercise.
This was somewhat remarkable, since he had not in
five vears ventured down the street at that hour of the
afternoon ; and Toadville was a full mile from our
home, Shakerag.

When the sun had set, father still delayed his return.
Tea was ready, but where was he? Father's absence
from the evening meal (or indeed from any sort of a
meal) having been unknown of late years, naturally
created anxiety in our home, so mother, now wrought
up to a sort of ner^'ous frenzy, hastened me down the
street to look him up.

'T know Mr. Beans has been robbed," said she, "or
sntitten by paralysis, or attacked by apoplexy. Surely
something dreadful has happened!" And wringing
her hands in despair, she started in one direction in
search of father, while I darted off in another, weep-
ing and expecting to find my parent a corpse.

30 Good Gumption

But when I reached the town, I learned he had been
seen two hours before, passing down Gully Avenue.
I called at the Doctor's with fear and trembling, but
he was not there. I inquired at the hotel, but he was
not there. I never knew him to be so hard to find be-
fore, and becoming alarmed, moved the town to a dili-
gent search for my lost parent. Every public place
was visited, every nook and corner searched, the
church bells were rung, the fire engines called out, the
old rusty cannon, that, for half a century, had done
the honors of the day on the Fourth of July, was shot
ofif, and an old drum, kept in the courthouse as a relic
of the Mexican War, was drubbed furiously. But
music, even of this elevated character, failed of the
end for which it was intended, and I was on the eve of
returning with sad heart to Shakerag, when suddenly
turning a corner, I came upon my father standing on
a box reading the show bills. His attitude betokened
deepest interest. His spectacles were accurately ad-
justed and his gaze was fairly glued to the pictures on
the billboards.

"Oh, my father/' shouted I, in a delirium of bliss,
"I have found you, at last!"

"Why, Heredity, is that you, my son? Yes — oh —
ah — er — well — so — yes — I was just on my way home
when — er — ^yes — so — fi — you say that's you, Heredi-
ty? Well, you see, Red, my eyes are dimmed by rea-
son of years, and it requires time to decipher these
grotesque hieroglyphics, which after all are but a snare
for the blind. Red, avoid all appearance of evil, my
boy, for I have scruples on this subject. Broad is the
road that leads to destruction, my son."

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(31)

32 Good Gumption

"Yes, sir," said I, with subdued reverence for pa-
rental authority. ''Is that the gate you were looking
at just now, father?"

"Oh! no, my son. That is only a common hoop
covered with cheap paper, held in the unsavory hand
of a painted clown, through which is about to leap a
profane acrobat. And, my boy, carefully watch the
wiles of the Dev — " But the last syllable was not ut-
tered, for mother, with eyes bathed in tears, came
rushing up.

"Cuke Beans," she exclaimed, in broken sobs, "what
on earth are you doing here in the dark gazing at
these vulgar posters? Are you sick, Cucumber
Beans? Is your mind right? Have your morals ex-
ploded all of a sudden ? And, pray, what has become
of all your high theories about blood, and stock, and
environment set forth in that Patent Office caveat,
which, you say, is the profoundest document ever
penned by man? Just answer me, Cuke Beans!"

My father's head drooped, and in solemn accents he
replied: "The wise man has said, 'There is a time to
keep silence.' That time is now." So we all returned
in pensive mood to our home at Shakerag — and fami-
ly prayer was omitted that night.

For several days my father seemed engrossed with
some curious-looking papers, which I took to be docu-
ments of great importance, since they were scrupu-
lously guarded from all observation but his own.
Great government briefs relating to the caveat from
Washington, D, C, thought I. But one morning as
father was chasing a pig out of the yard, an unsympa-
thetic clothesline removed his beaver, in which he kept

Passing of the Circus 33

a small post office — and his cai'cat, unraveling the
mystery by disclosing a sheaf of show handbills.

"Oh! bother! fi-diddle! what's this trash doing on
my premises, Red, my son?" inquired father. "How
insidious is error. Heredity ! Eschew evil and do
good; be not led astray with the error of the wicked,"
he moralized, with stern decision, as he descried me
seated on the root of a scrub oak, feasting on the pic-
ture of a clown turning a somersault in the air. "De-
file not your youth, my boy, and hasten to school,
where loftier sentiments are imbibed, and where sub-
limer deeds are inspired."

I departed on my sad mission to the schoolhouse,
satisfied of the fact that the circus was preying upon
my parent's mind.

Saturday morning, at the peep of day, Robinson's
"colossal" caravan began to pass our front gate, with
that indefinable eclat which always distinguishes such
occasions. My father heard the sound thereof, and
with the peculiar promptness that invariably charac-
terizes a man who hates a show, at a single effort
cleared the footboard of his bed, knocked out three
slats, and lit on one foot. As he gazed from the win-
dow upon the magnificent pageant, he indulged in a
couple of appropriate homilies, saying: "Red. my son,
look not on evil. Tf sinners entice thee, consent thou
not."

But the boy Heredity happened to be interested him-
self in passing events, and they all seemed to be pass-
ing just then; so, located on the gatepost, protected
from the morning dews by his mother's tablecloth, he
was perhaps not in a condition to give such heed as a
3

34 Good Gumption

parent's advice should receive. Suddenly, the steam
piano struck up a lively tune which sent a thrill over
my father's musical tendencies, causing him to ex-
claim with unwonted animation: "That's not so bad,
Heredity, my son; is it, my boy?" Whereupon, re-
gaining his accustomed calm, he observed signifi-
cantly, "But the daughters of music shall be brought
low." Next came the animals in slow defile, breaking
the monotony of the quiet hamlet of Toadville.

"See! my son," exclaimed my father, w^th evident
excitement ; ''there is the unicorn of Job," pointing to
a gorgeously decorated cage containing a rhinoceros.
"Observe that insatiate tiger, fierce and cruel, the sym-
bol of uncivilized man ; mark that gorilla, so painfully
like the human kind; Mr. Darwin thinks a relationship
exists sure enough."

"And so do I, father, for he is as much like Grand-
father Beans as two black-eyed peas. This must be a
sort of family show, ain't it, pa ?''

"But, my son, let us not be led astray by the vaga-
ries even of great men ; for appearances are deceptive,
and only in his fall does man enter the sphere of the
brute. Even then, redemption is found in heredita-
tion and environment. But more of this anon. Note
the majestic lion, just coming into view ; the king of
beasts, conspicuous type of him that goeth about seek-
ing whom he may devour. Enter not, my son, into the
path of the wicked, nor stray thou in the way of evil
men. The way of the wicked is as darkness; they
know not at what they stumble."

And onward, still onward passed the motley throng
of living things, so diverse in form, habit, and habitat,

Passing of the Circus 35

that mv father, while eharmed with Darwin's views
of environment and human hereditation, saw^ in this
heterogeneous cavalcade a fatal objection to the great
naturalist's then newly-postulated origin of species.

"The apostle declared the fixedness of species,"
said he, "when he wrote, as if he were beholding a
moving menagerie, 'All flesh is not the same flesh:
but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of
beasts, another of fishes, and another of birds.' No,
my son, that form of evolution which makes men,
dogs, apes, buzzards, whales, lizards, mosquitoes, tum-
l)lebugs, sponges, oysters, snakes, and wiggletails all
members of one family — as so many cousins and un-
cles— is a put-up job. For, He that made them all —
from a microbe to a mastodon — w^ith every opportu-
nity to know% says, 'All flesh is not the same flesh ;' and
here is an ocular demonstration thereof."

As the hour for the performance drew on, Toadville
became a hive of swarming humanity. Many persons
passed Shakerag my father believed would never dark-
en a tent, taking, apparently against their will, their
little boys to the menagerie, ^ly father caught the
idea.

'Tshaw!" exclaimed he, turning to mother, "this is
nothing, after all, but a zoological exhibition — a very
worth}- thing. Every boy on top of the ground ought
to see it."

"Then." said my mother, with true womanly in-
sight, "if you want Heredity to see the circus, let him
go with one of the neighbors."

"Fi-diddle!'' ejaculated my father, "you women nev-
er do see the true inwardness of things, Pollina. Don't

36 Good Gumption

you know that a show has to be approached from the
moral side, and that Heredity will need an ethical
guide in the midst of peculiar dangers?"

"That being the case," answered my mother, show-
ing spirit, ''I had better take Red myself, for I have
been almost alone his moral guide ever since he was
born."

"Whew ! Pollina Beans at a show !" father snorted.
Thus the argument closed; and my father, looking at
me, commanded with some excitement for me to "get
ready, my boy, and we'll go to see the animals."

"Quick! old chap; the band's tooting away now.
Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughed he, in superlative ecstasies. "It's
a good idea, old boy, to have an indulgent pap to go
along to prevent your morals from being impaired,
and to keep off accidents."

I never had known little boys to be so popular be-
fore, nor how nmch a parent would sacrifice for a
child. In view of enhancing my pleasures his face
shone with joy, while his whole conduct became hila-
rious. Half the gentlemen in the vicinity seemed to
be in search of little boys to take to the circus, and
when the youngsters began to get scarce, several gen-
tlemen clubbed together on a single lad.

Never until this hour had I understood the full sig-
nificance of the word joy, or experienced all that youth
conceives to be embraced in glory. What emotions
spring in a boy's heart as he buys a ticket and for the
first time steps into a circus. His eyes behold un-
dreamed wonders; he stands amidst constellations of
curiosities; he lives in a new world. Father, observ-
ing the extent of my enthusiasm, sought to enjoin

Passing of the Circus 37

upon me proper ethics by saying: "Touch not, taste
not, handle not, my son."

But orthodoxy stands at a disadvantage in a show,
while the best maxims have to be treasured up for fu-
ture use. I could 1)ut notice, however, how fully my
father was in sympathy with me in all my joys. He
seemed even to be enraptured himself — on my ac-
count, of course. It affected me deeply. How self-
sacrificing he was to immolate his most cherished con-
victions and decapitate his lifelong scruples just to
give his little boy two hours of pleasure! Oblivious
of his own pleasures, he appeared to enter into mine ;
and, notwithstanding the inward struggle it must have
caused him, when the clown, like a painted zebra,
turned a somersault in the air over a drove of horses
and a pair of elephants, he clapped his hands and
shouted: "Splendid!" lUit fearing this seeming ap-
probation might corrupt my morals, he added soberly,
by way of atonement: "Look not on the wine when it
is red, nor on the clown when he is in the air. Keep
your eye on the animals, my son."

Two delirious hours well-nigh had elapsed, when
the ringmaster trotted out a young mule, named Bu-
cephalus, stating that he would give the animal to any
boy who could ride him out of the ring. About forty
boys in turn tried their skill, and the same forty were
relegated to the dust. Jaok Cheesequakes, son of my
nearest neighbor, experimented a little, but without
favorable result. I wished to speculate a bit myself,
but fearing a paternal rebuke, hesitated until I heard
my father whisper to the elder Cheesequakes with ill-
concealed emotion: "I'll be bound if I couldn't have

38 Good Gumption

ridden that mule when I was a boy. There never was
a beast that walked on four legs that could have
flounced me, when I was a lad ; but boys have deterio-
rated these days."

I took this as a direct reflection upon myself; so,
slipping- quietly from my seat, I leaped upon Bucepha-
lus, determined to stick there. Locking my legs around
his neck, and clasping my hands around his tail, after
a desperate struggle of five minutes, I rode the discom-
fited animal out of the ring amidst deafening cheers.
Thus did I acquire a beast that became famous with
me.

It was now that my father's experience reached a
climax. He jumped into the middle of the ring, shook
hands with the clown, and made a short address to
the audience, declaring that he had the grandest boy
that ever shot a marble.

"Chip oft' the old block, that boy Red is!" he as-
sured everybody. "Yes; ladies and gentlemen, that
youngster is the terminus of the law of heredity, and
he was born and reared under a caveat. Nothino- like
good stock, Mr. Ringmaster; every baby under the
sun ought to come through the Patent Office." Then
he recited Hector's farewell to his infant son :

"O Jupiter and all ye deities,
Vouchsafe that this my son may yet become
Among the Trojans eminent like me.
And nobly rule in Ilium ! May they say :
'This man is greater than his father was.' "

The great pavilion was speedily emptied, and the
restless multitude sauntered home, or else sought fur-

Passing of the Circus * 39

ther diversion in the numerous sideshows that adver-
tised their charms in the most tempting way. We had
bent our faces homeward, my mule readily following
his tether, when a strain of li\ely music sounded from
an open tenl not far from our path. Father suddenly
stopped, and remembering he had "a little business to
attend to," gave me a peremptory command to go
straight home and tell my mother that \ had acted
nicely, and that he would be home directly. This I
did.

Mother snatched her poke l)onnet, went to the vil-
lage, and arrived at a spacious tent, guided by the
tinny notes of a hand-organ, just in time to see my
father waving a baton and riding in high glee on a
merry-go-round. When the machine came to a stop,
she simply faced her husband, saying: "Why, Cuke
Beans! What about those higfh-soundinfr theories

now r

Oh! Pollina, theories don't work at a show." re-
turned my wise parent.

THE SHOW'S AFTERMATH

Chapter III.

The circus and its marvels faded from my vision
like the glorious pageant of a dream, but their subtle
influences remained. I never parade before a curious
public the secrets of home life, but, since a show can-
not well be conceived as a private matter, I do not feel
that I am violating domestic proprieties in what I am
about to relate, though it occurred in the attic at
Shakerag.

Yes, it was in the attic. My father had been
strangely affected by the circus ; a meal never passed
without his animadverting to some feature that espe-
cially pleased him. He could describe all the animals,
repeat the clown's jokes, and even sing a stanza here
and there from the comic song book he had purchased.
He always had been kind and jovial to his family, but
now he was simply a child again. He never played
so many pranks, and laughed with such boyish glee as
since the performance at the circus. One morning at
breakfast, however, his hilarity was checked quite ef-
fectually, though unintentionally, when mother dis-
played a picture of the fat woman, which she had
found in the inner pocket of his coat while the gar-
ment had been undergoing repairs. Like a noted
king he never smiled again — during breakfast.
(40)

The Show's Aftermath 41

Meanwhile, a strange malady swept over Toadville
and the surrounding country, against which there was
no available cjuarantine. It crept into homes that
were thought to be proof against such distempers, and
affected the old as well as the young. My father
caught it, and for seven weeks had a severe attack of
circus disease.

I repeat, it was in the attic. My father and 'Squire
Cheesequakes had slipped quietly up to llic loft, a
thing they never had been known to do, and now and
then suppressed notes of the jolliest laughter could be
heard on the ground iloor. My mother suspected
something at once,

''Heredity," said she, "your father and old Cheese-
quakes are playing circus in the garret. We'll go up
and surprise them."

And she was "all in a tickle," for a joke on father
was her delight, but his abomination. We, she with
joyous face and I in a broad grin, stealthily climbed
up to the attic by means of a ladder that stood always
ready for that purpose, the laughter becoming more
and more distinct as we ascended. I began to giggle
at the prospect before us.

"Hush!" said mother, "don't disturb the play of
these aged infants."

As we looked through a crack in the partition, we
encountered a novel scene. 'S(|uire Cheesequakes,
with a \vagon whip in his hand, was performing the
part of ringmaster. He wore a spikctail coat, which
no doubt had witnessed many another jocund occa-
sion, including perhaps his wedding day, and poised
upon his head was a stovepipe hat that had passed

42 Good Gumption

through a similar experience. As for my mother's
husband, he had assumed the role of clown. His para-
phernalia consisted mainly of a dilapidated felt hat
shorn of its brim and with its crown punched into a
pyramid, a striped shirt without a collar, breeches cur-
tailed to the knee, and patched with squares of differ-
ent colored calico, red prevailing, a pair of black
stockings tied with yellow ribbon, and a brace of an-
cient shoes whitewashed. His face was corked and
rouged alternately, whilst his eyebrows were inked
and his nose was solid red. ]\Iotlier scarcely could
contain herself, and as for me, I was leaning against
the plank partition with her admonishing hand clasped
over my mouth to prevent an untimely explosion.

It was indeed a novel scene. Cheesequakes was
cracking his whip with painful energy, and father,
under its urgings, was making an attempt to jump
over a barrel placed between two kegs, and supposed
to represent respectively an elephant and a couple of
horses. His intentions were excellent, but his nimble-
ness had rusted a little from age; so finally he came
down on his cramp colic athwart the elephant, which
walked (that is, rolled) from under him. It is not
necessary to remark that, in view of the reverberating
properties of an attic, there were sounds, human and
inhuman, which resembled the voice of many thun-
ders. But, inasmuch as showmen are not easily dis-
concerted, the clown sprang into the center of the
ring, and, bending double, addressed the ringmaster :

''Why is an elephant like a traveler?"

Ringmaster: Really, I see no resemblance what-
ever.

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44 Good Gumption .

Clown : Because he always takes his trunk with
him.

Ringmaster: Very good, sir; have you anything
else as original ?

Clown : Why is a bald-headed man like a brier-
patch when a gun is fired near it ?

Ringmaster: Surely you are trifling with lan-
guage. It is absurd to suppose there is the slight-
est likeness. Give it up.

Clown : Because the hare is gone.

Ringmaster : Indeed — most excellent ! I am sur-
prised that I did not observe the analogy at once.
Anything else of a remarkable nature?

Clown : I ate some deviled eggs at Coney Island,
and they were not bad.

Ringmaster: Very good, indeed. You are im-
proving rapidly. If you keep it up some day you may
be a real clown. Haven't you got something else at
the bottom of the joke bag?

Clown : Sure. I've got jokes to give away to the
joke book. For instance: Why is a barrel of apples*
like a hot-house ?

Ringmaster: Now don't be foolish. Whoever
heard of there being such a likeness? You'll spoil
your record by getting off something poor. Still, if
you think a barrel of green apples is like a hot-house
let's have the answer.

Clown : Because they are both full of panes.

Ringmaster: Why, what do you mean, sir? I
don't understand.

Clown: Well, if you were as full of green apples
as the barrel you'd have as many pains as the glass

The Show's Aftermath 45

hot-house. Do I have to draw a diagram of this
joke ?

This sally was too much for the old men, and they
gave themselves up to unrestrained mirth, swinging
to and fro, shouting, slapping their hands together,
rubhing their centers of gravity, gasping — faces
white — hair standing on end — perspiration flowing —
Cheesequakes is seized with hiccoughs — laid out on
the floor — father has hysterics — mother enters the
door — says : "Why, Cuke Beans !" The fun was over.

STAMPEDED HORNETS

Chapter IV.

But circuses die hard. John Robinson left a mighty
influence behind him, as the following incident will
show: On one occasion, soon after the performance
of our parents in the attic, Jack Cheesequakes and my-
self sat on the farm fence discussing the relative mer-
its of our fathers, each displaying a bit of boyish
pride as we recounted ^le history of their boyhood as
it had come direct from sire to son.

**It strikes me. Heredity," said Jack, "that our paps
had similar experiences. Both of them played pranks,
rode horses nobody else could ride, braved dangers,
had narrow escapes, and did a great many things
which in these mild times would seem miraculous."

"And it strikes me likewise," rejoined I, "that the
present crop of boys has deteriorated since the hal-
cyon days of our ancestors. I have even heard my
father time and again say as much. I feel bad about
it."

"So do I," moaned Jack. "T'm afraid the race is
about to run out. Why, at home I hear nothing but
the glorification of the youngsters of a generation
l:)ack. I wish I had been born a couple of centuries
ago when all the boys were heroes, and I too, maybe,
might have been something more than meek Tack
(46)

Stampeded Hornets 47

Cheesequakes, unknown to fame, unwept, unhonorcd,
and unsung. I might have stolen my neighbor's ap-
ples in the night ; might have had a victorious fight
W'ith the watch-dog, leaving a part of my breeches the
size of the dog's mouth in the orchard; and I might
have worked tricks with hornet's nests. Shucks! Red,
we just ain't nobody."

''You don't pretend to say your dadd}', too, specu-
lated in hornets' nests? Why, Jack, T 1)elieve every
boy in the good old times used to have something to
do with hornets' nests. I have heard my father tell
about his doings with hornets, and then laugh as if his
sides would split : and, falling back in his arm-chair,
he would moralize, 'But boys lack a sight of being
what they were.' I tell you, Jack, it makes a feller w^ith
any spirit feel a heap uncomfortable. How could I
help not being born forty years ago?"

"Why, of course you couldn't help it at all, Red, and
it makes you feel lonesotne to think about it. I kit
don't grieve, old boy, for I'm inclined to think the
fault is not in the times, but in the boys. We have not
learned much from the instruction of our parents.
Every well-regulated boy should have unbounded ad-
miration for his ancestors, and seek in them the model
for the plan of his life and character. At all events,
that's what I heard Miss Spider tell the class the other
day."

"Why, Jack Cheesequakes, you talk like one of the
dead sages, and your speech has the ring of sure-
enough philosophy. Pa says a boy is the sum of his
forebears; then you and T ought to be equal together
to eight bears at least. Go on, cub. and speak."

48 Good Gumption

"Well, I was going- on to say," quoth Jack, "we
might pattern after our fathers and invest our brains
in something marvelous. We might begin on a small
scale — say work up a hornet trick first — just to see
how it would take."

"Dear me. Jacobus, it's the sublimest thing I ever
heard of — equal to a circus; and then, that joke is
classical, never fails to work, never gets humdrum,
and neither loses its novelty nor its point."

"No; not its point," said Jack, with a smile. "But
jesting aside, all we lack is an opportunity of sufficient
size for the undertaking. Our fathers worked their
schemes on individuals, in a small way, in private;
but you know, Red, this is an age of progress, and if
we are 'equal to the sum of our antecedents' (that's
the way the old folks put it) we ought to be able to get
up a trick as big as all of theirs put together. It should
be, then, on a large scale and played on the public.
How about that ?"

"Great idea — and, by the way, there's to be a tre-
mendous time, may be two or three of them, at the
courthouse next Friday — the gul-o-rious old Fourth
of July, you know. Everybody and his stepson will be
there. The political parties are to have a barbecue
and speeches — candidates a plenty — crowd — see?"
'Nough said ;" quoth Jack.

(I >-\

It was a high day at Toadville, an occasion of spe-
cial interest to the entire community ; politics was rife,
great questions were before the people. The streets
and lanes of the village were threaded at an early hour
with vehicles of every name, age, and style. Carts,

Stampeded Hornets 49

wagons, gigs, buggies, barouches, and carriages in
rich profusion were there. As for the people, they
were as muhitudinous as the sand on the seashore,
and as varied as a schoolgirl's airs.

On the evening preceding the great day, Jack and I,
having resolved to do something worthy oX our fore-
bears, succeeded, after various attempts, in bagging a
hornets' nest that we chanced upon in a neighboring
patch of woods. Jubilantly we bore our trophy to the
courthouse, and deposited it in the cellar underneath.
The courthouse literally was packed. Dozens stood
anxiously about the windows outside, to catch the
magic words as they fell from the lips of the political
orators.

'Squire Cheesequakes opened the meeting, and in-
troduced Duobus Rag, candidate for the Legislature
on the Democratic ticket, amid tremendous and pro-
longed applause. The personality of the said Rag,
though somewhat peculiar, was nevertheless quite im-
pressive, and stamped him at once as being a man of
no ordinary power. He had neither grace nor cul-
ture, but possessed, instead, personal magnetism to a
remarkable degree. His sandy hair, carelessly parted,
and most of it departed, his broad red face and redder
nose, his deep penetrating voice, that could have filled
the Parthenon, or made vocal every recess of the Pan-
theon, his stout frame, slightly inclined to rotundity,
and his small keen eyes — all bespoke for him attention
before any audience.

The question agitating the public mind at that time
related to a scheme on the part of the Consolidated
Navigation Company to construct a canal from Squab
4

50 Good Gumption

River to Toadville, a distance of seven miles. It was
a matter for popular vote, and, consequently, all can-
didates for office were required to voice their shibbo-
leths touching it. The merits of the question, as pre-
sented by the two leading politicians, will form the
subject of the next chapter. Suffices it here to say,
that Nebuchadnezzar Quid, Republican candidate for
the Legislature, just about the opposite of Duobus
Rag in every way, was rendering his peroration with
great satisfaction to his party, unremittingly smiting
a Patent Office Report with his magnificent fist (much
to my father's anxiety for a certain caveat, supposed
by him to make the Report worthy of more respectful
treatment) until from the battered book echoes rang
in every nook and corner of the crowded edifice. Per-
spiration streamed down his cheeks; his eyes flashed
fire — that is, one of them did; the other didn't flash,
owing to an accident dating back a couple of years to
a fist-fight in a political canvass — his lips quivered;
and tremendous thunders rolled from his tongue. The
effect was prodigious. Hundreds of hands were clap-
ping, and many tongues were screaming: "Hurrah'"
A moment and the work was done. We dragged
the bag containing the hornets and their nest to a spot
directly beneath an opening in the floor overhead — an
opening left by some carpenters who had been prepar-
ing to install a newfangled heating apparatus and had
been forced to suspend operations because of the
meeting. Jack and your humble servant deftly drew
the bag from around the nest, gave it a kick, and then
retired into the background. The hornets, angry at
such treatment, issued forth and naturallv headed to-

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52 Good Gumption

ward the opening overhead, through which a flood of
Hght poured. In less than a jifl:y they had invaded the
meeting bent on vengeance.

They began attacking chiefly those who most as-
siduously clapped their hands. Somehow, hornets
don't like a fuss, and in their eft'orts to stop it only in-
creased the excitement many per cent. Meanwhile,
my father took advantage of the occasion to warn
political sinners of election day and ventilate his views
on heredity, while Duobus Rag, whose ways sug-
gested the Judgment, made a commendable effort to
climb the bell-rope. Never in my life have I known
windows and doors to be in more active demand. It
is surprising how a politician who has been lying can
jump with the aid of a hornet. Hop — skip — and a
jump ! Through all the orifices of the courthouse
rushed the surging throng. Last of all went 'Squire
Cheesequakes, leaping, to the great praise of his agil-
ity, straight through the open window, brushing a
pair of hornets from his bald head, and crying with
unabated energy, and some truth. "Deliver me from
the tail-end of a circus !"

Must I let the curtain drop ? I shall not relate what
took place at our house in the early morn of the next
day, when I was unceremoniously roused from my
slumbers while in no condition to defend myself, but
am I in a position to explain why the old peach tree
that shaded the well was minus its choicest limb? I
shall not say I didn't get my breakfast till dinner, but
I will say, that in this life we follow examples rather
than creeds.

Mother seized the occasion to moralize on evolu-

Stampeded Hornets 53

tion and shows and to administer a scathing rebuke
to my revered parent, her husband.

"Cuke Beans,'' said she, "1 hope you see that recent
occurrences have dissipated your big notions about
heredity into ihin air, and that httle Beans is nothing
but big Beans made over, a trifle improved by what he
inherits from his mother. And moreover, big Beans,
I trust you see the folly of trying to raise little Beans
under the shadow of a circus tent and with the ideals
furnished by a clown."

Exit magiius Beans; ridct Beans parvus.

TOADVILLE'S BARBECUE

Chapter V.

There were some items connected with the great
Fourth of July celebration that I thought best to take
from the docket in the last chapter, before entering
the cloudy realms of Possum County politics. Thus
relieved I now turn in better spirit to that occasion.

A barbecue, especially a barbecue in the midst of an
exciting canvass, always has had considerable influ-
ence on the children of men — and fully as much on
the children of women. Well, it really is a big thing.
The first great movement in human history started
from something to eat, a primitive sort of bread-riot,
you may say. One morning, presumably the Fourth
of July, Independence Day, you know, Mrs. Eve Adam
felt too enervated by the climate to cook breakfast,
and so walked herself off to look for an easy meal.
Then, too, there is no evidence that she swept her hus-
band's room that morning, or dusted the furniture, or
let down the piano-cover, or l^rushed the cobwebs from
the hat-rack, or set the table, or even wound the clock,
or put Mr. Adam's boots in place.

But there are some extenuating circumstances. She
was just from school, without a mother, young, beau-
tiful, petted by every man on the face of the earth, in-
experienced, and a female. It must be remembered,
^54)

Toadville's Barbecue 55

moreover, that the colleges of that day taught neither
reading nor writing, much less the sciences of cook-
ing and housekeeping, while even the University of
Eden imparted only scant instruction except on the
general subjects of courtshij) and marriage. /\nd
many people don't study any other branches now.

This leads me to say that I have always felt sorry
for Adam, because he had no choice in regard to his
marriage. Think of it — a man without a choice — he
had to take the first woman he came across! It is
proper to say here (and the statement never has been
contradicted so far as I know) that when Adam first
made a proposition of marriage to ]^Iiss Eve, she told
him that it was "so sudden" and that she "never ex-
pected to marry." A change, however, came over her
affections, when one day Mr. Adam gave her a box
of chocolates, a bottle of cologne, and a nickel's worth
of chewing-gum. Great is the stomach in the destinies
of the race. And Eve became Mrs. Adam; if she
hadn't, there would have been no barbecue at Toad-
viile.

But the barbecue was not the only attraction that
drew together the immense throng of folks on the
Fourth of July, for there was a question before the
people of Possum County in which all men were in-
terested, and on which all had taken sides save those
human donkeys that trade their votes for money or
whisky. Yes, a great question was up. By their
votes the citizens of Possum County must decide
whether a canal should be cut from Squab River to
Toadville, a distance of seven miles. A great theme,
this, for the shooting of rhetorical skyrockets and the

56 Good Gumption

display of soapsud fountains. An august occasion,
too, worthy of a Webster or a Clay. The object of the
orators was to set forth the merits and demerits of the
proposed canal, each according to his party point of
view. In favor of the canal spoke Duobus Rag, as the
first orator.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, with time-hon-
ored triteness, "a tremendous industrial problem is
facing us; and, like Blanco's ghost [he meant Ban-
quo's] , it will not down. The hour is big with destiny.
The welfare of Possum County for a thousand years,
in the phantom shapes of wealth, art, and progress,
will hover benignly over the result of this election,
even as the silver moons revolve about Saturn, should
the sacred ballot-box sing the siren song of the canal.

"Such, indeed, would be a red-letter day in the an-
nals of our ancient town, when the beatitudes of joy
would clap their hands, and the symphonies of song
would rise in mighty cadence, roll on cyclonic wheels
from star to star in the fire-lit pyrean, fill the unmeas-
ured universe with music, and at nightfall die away in
pensive sobs, to be renewed each morning, as, in the
golden light of the sun, labor strikes its thousand an-
vils. [Did Henry Clay ever beat that?] Gifted pens
and eloquent tongues have thrilled us with their magic
recitals of the character and dignity of tariff, currency,
war, and slavery ; but these themes are but the paltry
politics of a tin god, whose shrine is in the alley and
the slum, compared with the Squab River canal, which
even now, in vision, I see moving before us in queenly
majesty, crowned with the diamonds of a new indus-
try, opening up a great water-way to the swift-winged

Toadville's Barbecue 57

commerce of the world, and in da3's to come the air-
ships of the universe.

"Fellow-townsmen [seventeen voters], Toadville,
at a distance of seven miles from the great hydro-
graphic [a little mixed again, but Toadville didn't
mind J arteries of the country, never can become a sea-
port town. It never can rank in commercial impor-
tance with New York, Chicago, or even San Fran-
cisco, unless it be connected with the high seas, wdiose
billowy waves break in thundering orchestras on the
rocky keys of old earth, sending pulsations of rhythmic
melody to the far-off fiery center of the globe. Let
every man in whose breast beats the love of country,
hasten the glad day when Toadville shall lift her proud
head in paeans of victory to the emblazoned heaven,
bending beneath its crown of stars to behold the glory
of a redeemed town.

"Give Toadville a canal, give her water communica-
tion with the nations of the world, and in five short
years, instead of eighty-five souls all told, there will
be one hundred thousand within her walls, all of them
rich, all happy, all wise. Instead of a dozen huts,
there will be brick mansions, brow^n-stone fronts, and
marble palaces, gracing asphalt avenues five miles
long. There will be numerous parks in which feath-
ered choirs will charm the listening ears of ecstatic
multitudes. The buzz of factories will swell in ever-
increasing cadences, until in li(|uid softness it strikes
sympathetic chords on the philharmonic harp of the
universe, whose strings vibrate and reecho in tireless
music forever. •

(At this point Daniel W^ebster kicked the bottom

58 Good Gumption

out of his coffin because in his Hfetime he never had
done so well. Thus can the great be jealous even in
death. )

"Then, as the poet's line suggests, a year of Toad-
ville will be worth a cycle of Cathay. Then Possum
County will blossom as the rose; great ships will an-
chor in her canal, proud navies ride on her waters,
and the wealth of the globe will unload itself at her
golden portals. Orpheus will sing in Toadville's
streets melodies so touching "as to bring iron tears
from the eyes of Pluto, while splendor-crowned Fame,
amid amaranthine odors, will sit in her temple of com-
merce, reigning with benign scepter over the grandest
people on the face of the earth."

Thus closed the speech of the young political wind-
bag, amid a tumult, screaming, wild and indiscrimi-
nate ejaculations, hurrahing raised to a hysterical
pitch, and a general hubbub that would have made a
tornado feel lonesome. If there could be anything in
wind, the canal was a sure thing. After the winds, as
Virgil would say, had been shut up in a cave, Nebu-
chadnezzar Quid took his stand on the platform, the
opponent of Rag, and in every way his opposite.

"Fellow-citizens of Possum County," said he, "as
the candidate on the Republican side of the canal ; be-
fore this respectable and intelligent gathering, I am
proud to present the claims of the G. O. P. — that is.
Good Old Possum. Toadville may need a canal to
wash its rags in [a fourth of the inhabitants belonged
to the Rag family], but this grand old county, which
is dearer to me than my life, will wash itself of the
ditch business without anv water, in the ballot-box.

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60 Good Gumption

"Possumites, lend me your ears, that ye may hear !
Squab River ! And what is Squab River but the old
intermittent brook, known, until a petition was sent
to Congress for an appropriation, as Squab Creek,
w^hich dries up in summer and freezes up in winter?
Its average depth is three inches, and its mean width
is two and a half feet. It has been known to be
dammed at flood tide, by a pumpkin falling into it;
and recently, when John Robinson's circus passed over
it, the elephant took a few swallows and dried up this
Democratic stream for a day and a night, and it began
to flow again only when a passing farmer dropped a
watermelon into it.

"And, fellow-citizens, what is Toadville, that it
should have a canal furnished by the government, that
it should wear a golden bib and be rocked in a silver
cradle? What is this precocious political infant that
it should cut teeth of pearl, gnaw a rattle of precious
gems, swing in gilded ropes, shoot into the ring of
honest labor with a diamond taw, and ride a hobby-
horse with his mouth in the treasury of the United
States? The Toadville that we know is noted only
for mosquitoes and Rags [continued applause] ; it is
found on but one map in the world, and that is a dia-
gram, gotten up to show to Congress, at the terminus
of a broad canal floating all the varied crafts of com-
merce; indeed it appears a great city with paper
streets and ink homes.

"Verily a diagram hath power to soothe the Con-
gressional breast, when its party leaders demand trea-
sons, strategems, and spoils. [Note the way Quid
mauled dear old Shakespeare.] The Appropriation

Toadvillc's Barbecue 61

Committee proposes to make a city out of toads,
ground-peas, and rags [more applause] ; and a river
out of dirt. Toadville, removed from the diagram,
has thirteen houses, besides a courthouse and a jail.
Two of these mighty, sky-scraping structures are hen-
houses, and one a barn. T lived within nine miles of
Toadville, but never heard thereof until T was nine-
teen years old — and 1 was a pretty precocious youth.
Even then, it came to my knc^wledge only when my
father sent me to sell a peck of apples, which glutted
the Toadville market for a week.

** Suppose we get a canal, and have a river made at
the expense of the government ; where will the water
come from? Toadville's orators could ftirnish the
wind, but where, oh! where is the a([ueous fluid l(^ be
found? Squab River can't furnish water enough to
float an Indian canoe, and. if Possum Cotmty should
vote for the canal, it would have to get up another pe-
tition to Congress to invent some hydraulic machinery
for manufacturing water to fill it. That's too big a
job to expect of a small spring. T have read — that is,
I have heard my grandfather read — in the good Book
about clouds without water, but in all my life I never
heard of canals without water. You see, fellow-citi-
zens, the Bible is against artificial waterworks, wheth-
er rivers, canals, or clouds. And I, therefore, call upon
all good people, both laymen and clergymen, to enter
their pious protest against this whole nefarious busi-
ness.

"I here assert, as an honest patriot, that it would
take a thousand men ten years to turn this rocky ridge
into a canal, at an expense of six million dollars; and.

62 Good Gumption

moreover, it would consume all the balance of money
now in the United States Treasury, or that ever will
be therein, to supply the necessary water to float a
first-class tugboat. If Toadville wants to become a
seaport town, let it remove to the seashore. This
would be easy and practical, and highly beneficial to
the purity of Possum County government. And then
it could be done without expense, since a couple of
goat-carts could carry all that is valuable in Toadville
— Rags and all. [Loud cheers.]

"Then, fellow-citizens, there is a sad feature con-
nected with this enterprise that my opponent has not
been frank enough to notice. Don't you know that a
canal always brings flies, gnats, chinches, bats, fleas,
frogs, measles, pneumonia, whooping-cough, rheuma-
tism, mumps, blind-staggers, insanity, cholera morbus,
and hiccoughs ? Don't you know that it would change
the weather, reverse the points of the compass, and
cause snow, vapor, fog, and blizzards ? Yes, my coun-
trymen, the weather would have hysterics, and every
farmer in Possum County would have to wear a ther-
mometer on his breeches leg to warn him of the sud-
den approach of chills and fevers. My friends, it is a
corrupt party that would thus trample upon our liber-
ties and destroy our homes. I would rather be a dog
and bay the moon than such a Possumite. I would
rather be a martyr, crimsoning the earth with my
blood, than to filch the treasury of my country or rob
my county of its inalienable rights. Once, now, and
forever, give me liberty or give me death !" [Immense
cheering — prolonged shouts — pandemonium squeals.]

It was at this juncture, as the flood of patriotic ora-

Toadville's Barbecue 63

tory floated down from above, that ilic hornet episode
took place. It has troubled my conscience ever since.

In due i^rucess of time thini;s settled, hornets, cof-
fee, and people. The feast began, lloth candidates
stood at the festive board on the court green, sur-
rounded by their partisans, each esteemed a hero.
Duobus Rag had a happy twinkle in his eye at the
prospect of the golden showers he expected to fall
from fiscal skies into the pockets of his followers, and
of course securing to him any office in the gift of his
constituency. Nebuchadnezzar Quid had the look of
an honest man that was about to perform a trick. \'an
Gobler, candidate for constable, stood by him.

"Nebuchadnezzar," said Van Gobler, "that was the
speech of your life. It will carry the country against
the canal as sure as gun-shooting."

"Yes, old boy," replied Quid; "the appropriation is
as dead as Hector. Rag's old party is corrupt, made
up of knaves. There ain't an honest man in it ; not an
individual that is a true patriot and above reproach.
Then, you know well enough. Van Gobler, that if these
rotten Democrats get this immense appropriation from
the government, I can't induce Congress to vote a mil-
lion dollars to change the county seat from Toadville
to Gold Center, my old sand-farm, }-ou know, worth
seventy cents per acre, but mighty good for a town.
Then, you see, we'll get appropriations for a court-
house and a jail and a post office — say a million dollars
for the farm and all. But don't ever mention this to
these thievino' Democrats."

THE CAPERS OF CUPID

Chapter VI.

When a boy first discovers in his mother's mirror
an incipient hair on each side of his nose and just be-
low that organ, and the charity of his parents and the
imagination of the girls denominate it a mustache, he
is a novel and amusing phenomenon. He is a bundle
of dreams, ambitions, and crudities. At times he ap-
pears to be almost rational and nearly human. He
stands on a spot between babydom and manhood,
where the indefiniteness of the babe begins to wane
and the aspirations of the man begin to wax. His
most cherished possessions are a Barlow knife, a rusty
nail, a popgun, a billy goat, a dirt marble, and a sweet-
heart. It is of this last piece of goods I now wish to
speak.

\\'hen, for the first time, I deemed it my supreme
duty to fall in love, the unwholesome reflection haunted
me that I was advancing in age, and that I was losing
much valuable time which should be devoted to the
mysteries of courtship. I barely had entered my teens,
and was without a sweetheart ! This was a serious
disgrace to the family record — an amazing dishonor
to the training of my parents. Had they not carefully
and persistently filled my mind with the great theme
of love from my earliest recollection ? When heaven,
(64)

The Capers of Cupid 65

hell, the immortality of the soul, things present, things
to come, things above the earth, things on the earth,
things under the earth, and the earth itself, had all
been made subordinate to this vast subject, what
waited I for ?

I sat down and wept until the noon hour : then my
mother appeased me with peas. There is no fixed
^ulf l)etween the heart and the stomach of a lad, for
joys that would pass from one to the other have well-
marked channels. Still, in my reverie I said: "Arise,
Hereditv Beans, shake thvself from the dust, anoint
thy head with oil, tie a small rainbow about thy neck,
and start upon thy adventurous career, killing lions
and eating honey, to charm one of the daughters of
Philistia!" Thus did I resolve to wipe out my re-
proach, and take rank with the good and wise of all
ages.

True, I could ride colts, wear scarlet cravats on
Sundays, and smoke cigarettes (for which my parents
should have made me smoke in a different fashion),
but after all, mused I, when kings lose their crowns,
and comets their tails, what is a fellow to do without
a sweetheart? The very thought caused a funeral
procession of melancholies to parade all the avenues
of my disturbed imagination. I wept again, and this
time my mother mollified my melancholy with melons,
whilst the melody of heart and stomach remained un-
broken.

P)Ut just how to begin a love matter, T knew not. I

always had shunned the society of girls ; not because

T did not have a secret admiration for the sex, but, to

tell the truth, because I was afraid of them. A girl

5

dd Good Gumption

always had seemed to me to be a formidable affair,
anyhow. I never went into a store that sold calico
without turning pale, and I never climbed a sweet-gum
tree but that its oozing resin reminded me painfully of
the young females who so universally fed on it. I
never beheld a bird of bright plumage flying in the
open sky but that it sadly recalled a maiden's hat, and
caused me to flee to the nearest cave, or else to pros-
trate myself on the ground in a nervous spasm. If I
saw a bottle of pickles or a green apple, my heart beat
faster. If I saw a ribbon lying in the road, I would
ride around it if possible, or urge Bucephalus past it
at his best speed. If a mouse or a bat came my way,
I nearly lost- my breath, for I fancied I heard the
scream of young females. I was strangely aft'ected by
the sight of a maid, and nearly everywhere I beheld
something that reminded me of the sex; hence, I was
always apprehensive.

I think this virgophobia, or fear of girls — if I Uuiy
be permitted to manufacture a word — was brought on
by an unfortunate experience in my early history. I
attended a Sunday-school picnic, as sweet and as inno-
cent as could be, and was seated on a stump in an oak
thicket with my face buried in a rind that a few mo-
ments before had contained half a watermelon. I was
licking up the last sugary water, when an occurrence
occurred. A dozen maidens with flowing hair, having
discovered my blissful retreat, invaded it, yelling at"
the full horse-power of their voices, calling me a
"mammy's boy," and saying I was as quiet and as gen-
tle as a girl. They said they were going to make mc
play with them, and that I should not be so girlish.

The Capers of Cupid 67

Their attentions and intentions startled me. I ran
a (jtiarter of a mile and jumped into a blaekberry patch
to hide from my pursuers. But on they sped like young-
Amazons, splitting' the welkin with shrieks that would
have made pandemonium feel like a real silence. My
heart sank within me. Neither brier, nor entreaties,
nor guardian angels could protect me from their wild
assauli. I made one last heroic effort to free myself
from these feminine pagans. 1 seized the most ven-
turesome one and kissed her soundly, thinking that
surely ni\ enemies all would leave me in horfor and
high dudgeon. Instead they pressed around me the
more furiously, each asseverating that I was mean as
a dog if I didn't kiss her the same way. In despair 1
fainted.

Taking advantage of my prostrate condition, the lit-
tle savages put an apron on me, curled my hair in imi-
tation of a female's, and then dragged me to the picnic
grounds, as, in moments of returning consciousness, I
writhed, and pleaded, and wept. lUit my frantic ef-
forts were of no avail ; for my tender captors rolled
me over again and again on the grass, as if T had been
a l)arrel. kissing me with the zeal of hornets, and, with
the spirit of viragoes, accusing me of being as tame as
a little girl.

From this treatment I never recovered. I spent
whole iiiglits in the greatest trepidation, at times fan-
cying I saw a brood of winged vipers with balls of fire
issuing from their eyes, clad in frocks and aprons,
chewing gum, grinning, hissing, squealing, whooping,
and looking very much like small female people. In-
deed, my excessive fear induced an attack of rheuma-

68 Good Gumption

tism, followed by ague and fever, culminating almost
fatally in an aggravated case of mumps. And even to
this day, when I hear a girl whoop, cold chills run over
me in flocks, and I often lose consciousness.

It is not surprising, then, that on occasions when
my mother's friends brought their daughters to Shake-
rag, I made it convenient to hunt rabbits by day and
'possums by night, and at meal-time find a sweet asy-
lum in a plum nursery. Still I was not so far a heathen
but that I would sometimes unconsciously hum the im-
mortal lines,

The rose is red. the violet blue;
Sugar's sweet, and so are you.

Of course, I was dreaming of the ideal maid, not of
the specimens I had actually met; and this was my
ideal poetry — this the couplet I longed to whisper with
unfaltering lip into the ear of some bonnie lass. And
yet, the idea of a rough, uncouth, materialized boy,
who ate raw potatoes, turnips, and onions, coming
within two furlongs of a sure-enough live girl who
floated in a sea of cologne and was decked in flounces,
bows, ribbons, frizzes, and flowers, seemed a magnifi-
cent theory, but at the same time an improbable con-
dition and a sublime impiety. Still, such things occa-
sionally had been done with considerable success, and,
I conjectured, might be done again.

At all events, one bright morning in May. an oppor-
tunity was given me to test the feasibility of Cupid's
art. A huge barouche drove up to Shakerag contain-
ing Widow Campbell and her eleven-year-old daugh-
ter. I rushed to the window, and gazed and mused.

The Capers of Cupid 69

Hush, all things earthly! Breathe your softest music,
and shed your sweetest odors, ye winged zephyrs!
Hark! I hear angelic footsteps, and behold cherubic
shapes! My reverie is broken — a moment more and
I must face destiny ! To run or not to run, that ^vas
the question. Cold chills, in billows a yard high broke
over my treml)ling body, the blind-staggers, like a cy-
clone, struck my brain, my bones loosened and rattled.
I looked, I saw, I tied. As I ran, I thought how un-
like Julius Caesar I was.

My delay, however, made it impossible for me to
escape unobserved, and forced upon me the most try-
ing ordeal of my boyhood. \Miere is the youth so out
of accord with sublunar ethics that he can witness the
majestic advance of a widow^ flanked on the right by
a buxom daughter, gorgeously ri])boned and feath-
ered, like an army with banners, without some feeling
of alarm? I had attacked hornets, fought wasps,
"chunked" dogs, and routed snakes, but I am free to
say I never felt, with the single exception of the picnic
episode, so great a strain upon my spinal cord, or so
severe a test of my courage, as at that moment. \\'ith-
out notice, or seeming lapse of time, the visitors en-
tered the sitting-room with such an uproar of laughter,
shrieks, exclamations, and interjections, that T lost
control of myself, thinking it was an army storming a
fort; and as any prudent person would do, T sought
protection under the sofa. T might as well have tried
to hide in the moon.

For a boy has but little protection in this world : and
in an inappreciable fraction of a second. T was hauled
out by my feet — and the feat was \\'idow Campbell's.

70 Good Gumption

I was gobbled up, squeezed, mashed, and smothered
with kisses. This, too, was by the same widow. What
was left of me she stood up on the floor and introduced
to Polytechnic Campbell, a pair of years my junior,
and' a mile or so better looking.

"Howdy !" said I, stuffing both hands into my pock-
ets, and dropping upon a stool in the corner of the
room, my head mathematically arranged in the angle
of the walls, as if posing for my photograph. Fixed
thus, I rolled the whites of my eyes in terror, choking
in my throat in the attempt to swallow myself. My
mother at length relieved the situation somewhat by
suggesting that I should take Polytechnic to the gar-
den and show her the flowers. As an arrow shot from
a bow, I darted through the door with the sweetest
girl on earth at my heels. But if I could run like a
deer, so could she.

In the very act of trying to escape, I felt my heart
beat with a new affection and I fell in love with that
little vixen the first time she cried: ''Wait for me!"
And I waited for her, and would have waited till
doomsday if need had been. And even now, at this
late day, I often have to wait for her, just as I did
then. But that's getting ahead of my story somewhat,
I think, and therefore to it we will return.

In the garden I pointed out the pinks and the lilacs,
showed her some hills of corn I had planted, expa-
tiated on a pumpkin vine, one of whose expansive
leaves I plucked to shade her as a parasol ; gathered a
quart of sweet-betsies and poured them into her apron,
hung a verbena on each ear, made a ring of cypress
vine for her finger, wove bracelets of honeysuckle for

The Capers of Cupid 71

her wrists, twisted a spirrea crown, studded with ge-
raniuni leaves, rosebuds, and pansies, for her hrow,
and became stiperabundantly happy in niy new role of
escort.

After half an hour of ecstatic peregrination through
the walks of the garden, thinking possibly my young
acquaintance might l)e sufficiently human to enjoy a
bit of fruit. T led her to a superb cherry tree in full and
glorious bearing. To show the utmost extent of my
nimbleness, I leaped into the tree, and in a moment
seized the topmost cherry on the highest limb, and this
I dropped into Polytechnic's u])lifted hands. When T
had filled my cap with fruit, and displayed all the pos-
sible agilities of a squirrel, I put a tempting cherry in
my lips, half-disclosed, and hanging from a limb by
my toes, clasped Polytechnic's hands in mine, and
lifted her up to share the luscious morsel. But in spite
of every precaution, I was near swallowing the cherry
— and the girl too — as our lips came into inevitable
collision. She, of course, blushed and administered a
soft rebuke, which was natural and right, and w'hich
I easily forgave. As for her part, when T explained
how exceedingly difficult it is to prevent such things,
no matter how circumspect one may be, she instantly
was appeased. It is my opinion, after considerable
observation, that a girl thoroughly, satisfactorily, and
finally appeased, is one of the most interesting specta-
cles in nature. Like the glad earth, when storm, and
cloud, and thunder and lightning give place to a s])len-
did sky, she marshals forth all the atoms of possible
loveliness, which she combines into molecules of su-
perb and bewitching beauty.

72 Good Gumption

In the great kindness of her reconciled heart, the
Httle goddess said, with the rising inflection: "Let's be
sweethearts, Red." I started to run. She gently laid
her hand on my arm, exclaiming: "Oh, you naughty
boy ! Look at me." I looked at her. Virgophobia, so
far as she was concerned, instantly left me. This was
love's beginning.

But how to continue this beatific state became a mat-
ter of serious perplexity. The idea of sitting serenely
down under a cherry tree and entertaining a maiden
who was bubbling over with life and romance seemed
a provoking abstraction. I never had studied inter-
jections, and was, hence, incapacitated for conversing
with a girl ; but something must be done, or I should
disgrace myself and lose the favor of my young ac-
quaintance besides. So I stood on my head, jumped
up and cracked my heels together three times before
touching the ground,, turned a couple of somersaults,
and crowed a time or two. These antics were capital
while they lasted, but as every youth knows, repeated
antics rapidly become stale. What to do next was a
Gordian knot. Defeat seemed inevitable. - Surrender
and ignominy were imminent. I could not converse,
and at the same time had capered myself out. What
next ? I felt that I would undertake any or all of the
twelve labors of Hercules, or even join the daughters
of Danaus in their task of drawing water in sieves, if
I could but finish my first interview with Polytechnic
creditably.

But just at this crisis, a dark shadow fell over my
young life — my harmless, unsuspecting, little life. My
faith in female infants was being restored rapidly, and

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(73)

74 Good Gumption

my heart was responding to the gentle touch of femi-
nine love, when this materialized angelet, by a single
arctic breath, chilled the caldron in which my fondest
hopes and a few small dreams were simmering.

"Red," said she — even she — "you are so real nice, I
want you to come to my next birthday party. Tooth-
pick will be there. Ma says he is the finest catch in
the neighborhood. He is my other sweetheart, you
know."

"My other sweetheart!" Is life worth living? I
fell down to the ground and bellowed. Streams of
steel-blue smoke issued from my nostrils; flames of
fire burst from my eyes; my heart thumped against
my ribs ; my liver burst ; my backbone warped and
cracked; my arms swayed to and fro without control;
my legs twisted together ; my lips protruded ; my ears
shriveled ; my neck stretched and bent ; my toes stuck
together; my finger-nails split; my hair came out in
batches; my skin peeled off in flakes; and my brain
rolled round like a marble in a cavity. At least, all
this seemed to happen.

Suddenly I sprang to my feet, resolving by deeds of
heroism to win Polytechnic Campbell, and to wipe up
the very dust with my rival. This was another young
dream. I cast up in my mind whatever seemed peril-
ous, heroic, or glorious, until at length a lucky idea
struck me, making it possible for me to cover myself
with glory.

"Polytechnic," said I, as I broke my silence, aglow
with hope ; "you doubtless have read that the wise cog-
itate much, and that out of the multitude of silence
cometh knowledge [said she hadn't read it] , and I have

The Capers of Cupid 75

been thinking- how i may show you a deed that makes
the seven wonders feel lonesome."

Whistling a ditty, I hastily bridled my young circus
mule, fancying, as my animal was named Bucephalus,
I would play Alexander. Never did dreamer conceive
more magnificent vision than passed l)cfnrc me that
minute. I led the mule to the front gate, which stood
in full view of the veranda where sat the Campbells.
All eyes were turned upon me; my father was rushing
toward me with wholesome prohibitions; my mother
was screaming; and Polytechnic's hands were clasped.
As the self-appointed hero of the moment, I mounted
the tiuadruped, sure of applause and immortal glory.
But lo ! oh ! how low ! — a lowered neck, a plunge, and
an elevated tail were all that was conspicuous about
Bucephalus, while, prostrate in the dust, Alexander
wept sore.

\\' ith one hand on ni}- bruised leg, and the other on
my empty stomach, I ingloriously retired to the barn-
loft, where, sitting disconsolate, I contemplated sui-
cide. I felt sorry for myself. I wept some tears.
Alas! the choice opportunity of my life had slipped,
and the golden dream of earthly joy had burst like
some gilded 1nil)l)]c. Reclining on a bundle of fodder,
I more than once repressed the rising sob, as I rul)bed
my aching limbs, and dreamily hummed the sad re-
frain :

' Tis sweet to love,

But oh! how bitter —
To woo a dove,

And fail to git her!

THE SPELLING BEE

Chapter VII.

After my sad experience with Bucephalus, respect-
ing which heretofore I have ahvays, for reasons hest
known to myself, observed a graceful silence, I grew
in stature and in wisdom. I happily renewed the ac-
quaintance of Polytechnic Campbell soon after the
melancholy event, and was henceforth moved by a
strange inspiration. As men cannot bind the sweet
influences of the Pleiades, so a boy cannot fetter the
sweeter and subtler charms of an unsophisticated las-
sie ; and I would as soon have undertaken to burst the
bands of Orion, or put the Seven Stars in my pocket,
as to break the magic powers that began to control me.
In other words, I was in love.

Polytechnic Campbell ! Never was a form so grace-
ful— never was a face so lovely! On each cheek
bloomed a scarlet rose — in each rose lived a bewitch-
ing dimple. Her lips sometimes would pucker to a
shadowy pout, on which would sport at times a heav-
enly smile. Her eyes — but what shall mortal say of
such immortal things? — were as soft as the sky, as
bright as a star, and the very temples of Cupid him-
self, while her flowing tresses were as bright gold as
the celebrated fleece of ancient story. But what
charmed me most was Polytechnic's voice. It could
(76)

The Spelling Bee 77

be like the sharp note of the pibroch, or the plaintive
harmony of soft-soundini;- llutes. Jrier silvery tones
could imitate at will the gentle murmtir of the sea at
cahn, or the terrible roar of focalized storms. It is
needless to say that Miss Campbell was the belle of
the neighborhood, and on -every public occasion the
cynosure of admiring and enraptured youths. Yet,
for any creature born of the earth, with mortal tenden-
cies and sublunar mien, to associate himself with Poly-
technic, or to aspire to possess her hand, seemed the
unholy climax of impertinence. And besides I was in
mortal terror of her.

But "what fools these mortals be!" In spite of our
clearest conceptions and most positive convictions, we
court the impractical and attempt the impossible. And
even to this day it makes my hair stand on end — that's
the only way my hair can stand — to remember that
for one giddy moment I dreamed of wooing Widow
Campbell's daughter. To win the favor of my fair
neighbor l^ecame the absorbing thought of my life, and
toward the solution of this problem I devoted all the
energies of my soul. As a matter of fact I never
tackled a job like it.

In the very beginning, the prize was disputed by a
formidable rixal, bearing the inharmonious name of
Toothpick \\'heazles. Toothpick was the IMordecai of
my life. He sat at the golden gate of my dreams by
night, and crossed my flowery path l)y day. Like my-
self, he was enamored, and, most distressingly for me,
our affections centered on the same object. He w^as
six months older than myself, a span taller, and in
looks had a seventy-five per cent advantage, besides

78 Good Gumption

having money, saw-mills, and a family tree. On the
contrary, I had neither money nor saw-mills, but I did
have a family tree; for did not my father boast de-
scent from Alfred the Great? Still, the odds were
largely against me, I confess, and in any ordinary pur-
suit I might have been discouraged. But when the
prize was nothing less than the hand of Polytechnic
Campbell, it was not to be abandoned without a strug-
gle. Incidentally T decided that in that struggle
Toothpick must be the loser.

In the schoolroom we stood on equal footing; for
there neither saw-mills nor a fat purse can help a boy >
parse a sentence or solve a problem. Recognizing this
pleasant fact, I essayed to make the most of it. The
delightful month of June had set in, toward the close
of which the final exercises of Toutpantotum Academy
were to take place. The chief feature of these exer-
cises was a spelling match, followed by proper cere-
monies and festivities. The honor conferred on the
successful competitor was the exalted privilege of es-
corting to the public dinner the lassie he fancied most,
and of delivering the valedictory. Before this honor,
Olympic glories paled and the golden crowns of kings
became dross. INIothers used no greater incentive than
to point out to their sons the possibility of some day
becoming the crack speller at Toutpantotum Academy,
while am1:)itious fathers directed their boys to no high-
er goal than the valedictory address, although such
direction was often given with a hickory switch.

The bright sim of that great day at length arose.
The meadows were decked with flowers and scented
with sweetness. The lark sprang from its nest of

The Spelling Bee 79

thorns and rejoiced in an unclouded sky. Indeed, as
one looked on the beauteous heavens and smiling earth,
and felt the balmy breath of summer upon the cheek,
it seemed as if glad nature were about to run over.
At the hour designated, Toutpantotum Academy was
crowded. In the audience sat proud fathers and
mothers, trembling, fearing, hoping for their sons,
while <»n the rostrum sat twenty-seven boys, half-
frightened out of their wits, wishing heartily they
never had been born. It's no joke to get a bad case of
stage-fright.

As for my part, in the attempt to become oblivious
of the multitude, I tried to fasten my eyes on opposite
walls at the same time, and to count flies. While I was
in the midst of this useful employment, the school bell
tapped sharply, and so wrought upon my already ex-
cited nervous system, that I was in the attitude of leap-
ing through the window, when Aliss Spider announced
that the ceremonies would be opened with a song, ren-
dered by the aspiring spellers. I bit my lii)s at the very
thought of singing before such a concourse of people,
crossed and uncrossed my legs with sufficient variety,
and at last stood u]) with the class to sing, assuming as
nearly as practical the shape of a corkscrew. The only
song I cared a fig for was, *'The Campbells are com-
in'.'' 1 did not have my choice. Iiowever, and sang
something else — I think it was "The Star-Spangled
Banner" — as best I could, for my voice seemed tied
up in l)ig hard knots.

It was a time-honored custom for the audience to
put test words to the class, so that there might be no
possible collusion between teacher and pupil. It was

80 Good Gumption

a seriously solemn time. My head ached, my heart
throbbed, my limbs quaked. The cruel audience
laughed and twittered and giggled and blinked, as if
nothing of moment were at stake. At length the great
assemblage was hushed in silence, and a pin's fall
would have been as a pair of earthquakes. Miss Spi-
der invited the multitude to prepare their test words
and put them one by one to the class. Then ensued a
long and painful silence.

A red-headed man, in a voice which, if the angle of
incidence had been right, could have split a gum log,
propounded "knot.'' About half the class backed out.
The other half came through with banners flying.
Word after word was given, whoever missed being
ruled out of the match. This trying process continued
until Toothpick and myself were the sole contestants.
Wheazles never seemed to be more thoroughly him-
self, more self-possessed and confident than now\ As
for myself, I confess to some misgivings ; yet I put on
the best face possible under the circumstances, assum-
ing the conscious superiority of a man who is himself
the author of a spelling book. But the crisis came at
last. A slim, dyspeptic maid, made full half a cen-
tury before, rising in the audience, announced, amid
melancholy stillness, "gnat." And on the orthograph)-
of this word we were allowed three minutes to reflect
before imperiling our reputations. You can imagine
that we took the limit.

Excitement was running high in the assembly, and
I myself began to realize the situation. Wheazle's
relatives and friends were shouting, "Hurrah for
Toothpick!" Mine were shrieking, "Three cheers for

The Spelling Bee 81

Heredity!" My parents, standing on tiptoe, turned
their loving eyes upon me; and as 1 met my lather's
gaze, 1 remembered his promise to give me the old
spotted billy goat, in case of my success. This moved
nic greatly — but what is a billy, nay, two billies, com-
pared with the esteem of a bewitching girl ? x\fter all,
it was Polytechnic I wanted. And it was Polytechnic
1 intended to get.

As this rellection was passing through my mind, I
chanced to discover in a distant part of the room a pair
of eyes beaming on me, and shining like two morning
stars in a cloudless sky. Why were they turned upon
me ?* What meant those cheeks, crimsoned with blush-
es that came and died away? What caused that ap-
parent anxiety, now incapable of concealment? P>ut
should 1 fail — what then? Down, horrid thought!
The Greek racer at the Olympic games, with the olive
crown before him; with poets, historians, and war-
riors looking on; with all Hellas as witness; with fires
of proud ambition burning in his soul, never felt more
at stake, never experienced intenser agony than did
Heredity Beans at that moment. Tt was the worst five
minutes I ever spent.

"Gnat" Avas the word in question. Toothi)ick's.turn
came first. Remembering there was a peculiarity
about the word, he spelled it in a peculiar way.
"X-a-g-h-t," cried my competitor, with profound com-
placency. All eyes now turned toward nic. Drawing
in a surplus of wind, and fixing my eyes on the rafters,
with my hands in my pockets, and my legs arranged
into a scalene triangle, T chortled with an infinitude of

delight nnd authority, "g-n-a-t." ''Right! right!"
6

82 Good Gumption

shouted the vast audience. My father clapped his
hands, exclaiming, "Knowledge is power!" My
mother fainted for very joy. My own heart fluttered,
and my head swam as I sat on the rostrum "whence all
but me had fled," while, in accordance with the eti-
quette the occasion demanded, I crossed my legs, blew
my nose, and smiled. Gnats had often been in my
eyes before, but never did they seem so exalted in my
sight as then.

My classmates having disposed of their oratory and
gestures, it became my painful duty to deliver the vale-
dictory address for Avhich the impatient audience was
clamoring. Toothpick had just taken his seat, having
alluded to me as a penniless and savage youngster, un-
soothed by the music of a family saw-mill. Then, in-
troduced by Miss Spider as the most illustrious speller
in the institution, I arose.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said I, in a voice frazzled
by modesty, emotion, and stage-fright. "This is the
supreme epoch of my life — the golden hour of my his-
tory. But language fails me. [Took a drink of wa-
ter.] For this hour I have lived and — er — um — and
died. My most cherished dreams are realized. There
seems nothing further for me in life. The end is
reached, the goal attained. Farewell! [^^^ater and
applause.]

"Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this occasion, if there
is any of it left, will go down through the ages bright
with immortality. The future historian will draw
from the records of to-day, and the moralist will tithe
the marvels you behold to paint a model or adorn a
tail. [You see I got somew^iat mixed here.] By the

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(83)

84 Good Gumption

recital of these things the young will be stirred to in-
creased diligence. But [more water] these things do
not make me proud. Although I shall live in the na-
tion's records, be embalmed in verse, and pictured on
the brightest pages of the Second Reader, I repeat,
these things do not make me proud. Though genera-
tions shall point to me with pride, and affectionately
link my name with Cadmus and Robinson Crusoe, still,
I bear it with resignation and fortitude. Genius must
pay the tribute imposed upon it. Farewell ! [Water
and loud cheers.]

"Now it becomes my painful duty to say farewell.
To you, my dear competitor, I extend the greeting of
sympathy. You have fallen in a noble cause, and
should submit to the ruling of fate. Your calamity is
not due to lack of industrv and want of zeal, but to at-
tenuation of brains, for which you are not entirely re-
sponsible. Allow me, as one deeply interested in you,
to say, my fellow-speller, that it is dangerous to strain
at a gnat and seek to swallow a Campbell. [Poh--
technic blushed and the people cheered. ] But remem-
ber, ardent disciple of the spelling book, that when
night is darkest, and storms around you roll fiercest,
you still have your saw-mill, in whose sepulchral
depths you can find a blissful refuge, and listen with
dreamful magnificence to the rattling of your ances-
tors' bones going through it. Farewell ! [Water and
showers of laughter. ]

*'To you, ladies and gentlemen, we owe unmeasured
gratitude. You have covered yourselves and this oc-
casion with great glory. Your presence has been our
inspiration, while your smiles have been the rainbow

The Spelling Bee 85

glorifying the sk}- of Toutpantotum Academy. May
you live forever and go to your graves in peace. Fare-
well! [Water and tears.]

"To you, dear teacher, we owe this immortal hour.
Wq never could ha\e risen to such attainments or
grasped the golden key of learning, but for your guid-
ing hand. ?^[iss Spider, in the name of the spelling
class I say, farewell ; and in m\' own name I say, with
ever deepening devotion, with accumulating softness,
and with affections flowing in geometrical progres-
sion, I love you. You have tried to make this world
better. Vou have sown the seeds of knowledge that
to-day have borne their golden harvests. You have
been building larger than you knew. Little did you
realize what you \\ere doing, when day by day you
were training a youth whose fame is Ijounded only by
the confines of matter, and whose record is punctuated
with stars.

"Go on with the good work; sow spelling books, and
you will reap geniuses. Holmes, in his "Democrat at
the Breakfast Ta1)le" [mixed again], has remarked
that the Boston statehouse is the very center of the
solar system; but. kind priestess of learning, by your
toil and sacrifice, you have made old Toutpantotum
Academy not only the hub of the universe, but the hub- *
1)ub of world-renowned spelling bees. Hereafter, at
least one mute, inglorious ^lilton will rise up to call
you blessed. Farewell. [The audience applauded,
Miss Spider wept, and T choked and drank water.]

"To you, fellow-classmates, T bid a tearful adieu.
[Brushed a small tear from my left eye.] We have
walked together in these classic shades, and sat within

86 Good Gumption

these renowned walls. But in your tears remember
me. You, too, some day, like me, may reap honor and
fame. I once dared not dream of standing on this
proud eminence. I once thought such dizzy heights
impossible; but labor omnia -c'iiicit. By toil, presever-
ance, and pluck, you may some day stand in my tracks.
I know it seems like a dream to you, but what has been
done, may be done again. Remembering that there
can be no crown without a cross, on your banner write
'Excelsior,' and let your motto be 'Nil desperanduin.'
Now, fond spellers, good-by ! And when the sands run
low in the glass of time, and the sun empurples the
western clouds, and you look back to these halcyon
days, you will experience the majesty and mystery of
the classic line of the poet, 'rcducfio ad absurdiun'
Farewell! [Took my seat amid torrents of applause
and supernumerary congratulations, particularly upon
the excellence of my Latin, which nobody understood.]
The climax had now come, and the excitement, so
far from abating, became tenfold more intense. The
universal question was, "Who will be the maid of
honor ? Who will be deemed worthy to go arm-in-arm
to the public dinner with the boy who can spell 'gnat?'"
Rising to my full proportions, glancing significantly
to the four points of the compass, I descended from
the stage, and, amid deafening cheers, clapping of
hands, and admiring looks, offered my arm to Poly-
technic Campbell. Alany a girl wilted, but I couldn't
help it. What, thought I, are saw-mills, or riches, or
Toothpick ^^'heazleses? Oh! ye transient things of
earth, farewell! Tell me not in mournful numbers a
little learning is a dangerous thing. Brains, mused I,

The Spelling Bee 87

brains are what this age demands. Covered with glo-
ry, with ni}' most sanguine dreams reaHzed, and with
Polyteclmic swinging seraph-Hke on my arm, I led the
surging throng to the festive board.

Dinner over, under the wide, spreading branches of
ihe oaks we lingered till late evening, my tongue all
the while being the pen of a ready writer. As the joc-
und hours sped on, I entertained my love with a re-
cital of my narrow escapes from snakes, and matters
of like moment, till twilight warned us that for a sea-
son the gates of Elysium must close. As a parting
token. Polytechnic pinned a white bud on the lapel of
my jacket, whispering softly, "Remember the giver!"

"Remember the giver?" repeated I, w^th softness
condensed. "Wliy, Polytechnic, not onl\- the giver,
but the flower, pin, and all, are forever sacred, from
the rising of the sun to the demise of the last jay-bird."

Proud of this sentiment, T rushed to a jimson-weed
hard by, and plucking its choicest bloom, entwined it
in Polytechnic's golden curls. T think T could have
written poetry, at this juncture, by the mile instead of
by the foot, but the hour was advanced, and tenderly
we spoke appropriate words of adieu.

REVIVING SHOUTING CHURCH

Chapter VIII.

The, excitement occasioned by the spelling match
had pretty efitectually died away, when a "revival"
was appointed to begin on the first Sunday in August,
creating as much interest in the breasts of the good
people of Shouting Church as did the Jewish Pass-
over at Jerusalem.

Every housewife in the vicinity, with merr}^ heart
and tuneful lips, in view of the "big meetin',' made
vigorous preparations, which consisted largely in bak-
ing cakes, roasting meats, and frying chickens.
Sumptuous tables were spread under the towering
oaks of the churchyard, trembling, sighing, and groan-
ing beneath variously-served chicken, lamb, ham,
bread, biscuits, potatoes, pickles, custards, pies, and
cakes, to say nothing of unmeasured quantities of.
peaches, apples, grapes, and piles of watermelons dot-
ting the groimd everywhere. \Miile many, having the
peace and enlargement of Zion at heart, sought the
benefits of grace, and strove to bring sinners to a reali-
zation of their woe, others, viewing the meeting as a
protracted picnic rather than a religious gathering, a
season of amusement rather than of spiritual worship,
placed the interests of the soul at a fearful minimum,

and paid adoration to their stomachs.
(88)

Reviving Shouting Cluircli 89

After much waiting, the morning of the first Sab-
bath in August dawned. A magnificent sun bathed
hill and dale in waves of golden light, and jubilant
throngs of humanity focused at Shouting Church.
Many who had not visited a place of worship for ten
years or more, were drawn In' the curiosity that only
a revival, a circus, a bai)tizing, or a funeral can ex-
cite. Even old brother Crankside was there, whose
continued absence had been a source of much grief to
the brethren, and Sister Periodical, one of the old
standards, who had vowed never to put her foot in-
side the church door again, came to receive a few
drops from the shower of blessings. A number of ex-
cluded innocents hung around, indulging the hope that
their spiritual shoes might be half-soled and better
adapted to Jordan's rugged path, while a variety of
broken-down pilgrims sat in the fence-corners of Ca-
naan, exchanging sorrows and desiring to refill their
neglected lamps.

The meeting continued from day to day, but the
spiritual pulse was slow. Elder Combustible preached
furiously, and burst one of his suspenders in the good
work, but still the happy moment came not, and sin-
ners scorned the message of love. The ungodlv had
been urged forward to the "anxious seat" as the pan-
acea of all human ills, but alas! no one seemed anxious
but the preacher, and no one accepted the invitation
but a half-witted villager, who, from having been a
''mourner" at every ]irotracted service in the vicinity
for fifteen years, had acquired the appellative distinc-
tion of Nest-egg.

The discouraged pastor, looking matters squarely

90 Good Gumption

in the face, announced that the church at once would
enter into a "quandary" meeting, for the purpose of
finding out just where the difficulty was concealed.

'The quandary session," said the elder, "will be
opened with prayer by Brother Nevervary," who, with
unfailing promptitude, said a prayer which long since
had become a sort of unwritten model throughout the
English-speaking world. This prayer, however, had
been heard too often to produce any effect, other than
to elicit a few weak "aniens" from half a dozen drow-
sy brethren, and to amuse a score of godless boys, who
had learned by heart the stereotyped petition, and in a
low, quizzical tone of voice, apparently dictated each
sentence to the aged suppliant.

The performance, nevertheless, passed for prayer,
and the meeting sat once more serenely calm. For
once in his life, Elder Combustible was at sea. Usu-
ally he regulated his meetings and determined the de-
gree of religious interest by the movements of Sister
Tearful, who was famous in such aft'airs as "Combus-
tible's thermometer." But now, alas! the indications
were appalling. The mercury was low, Sister Tearful
was dry, and Nest-egg alone sat gloomy and unmajes-
tic in the seat of the penitents.

"Something's the matter — there's an Achan in the
camp !" exclaimed the perplexed elder ; *'and he must
drop the golden wedge and strip off the Babylonish
garment before the stream of joy shall flow, and the
desert blossom as the rose. Where's the hindering
cause, brethren ?"

This direct interrogation brought Brother Sniffles
to his feet, who observed that in his opinion the meet-

Reviving Shouting Church 91

ing- lacked steam. "That's what's the matter," joined
in Sister Periodical, excitedly. ''If yoti want the pot
to bile, you must have al^undance of steam."

'The pot's got to bile afore you get the steam," ob-
served old Brother Safety Valve, logically. "An' the
pot can't bile 'cept'n it's got fire under it, an' the fire
can't burn if folks stan's aroun' contin'ally llingin'
water on it."

"In my opinion," said the elder, "Brother Safety
Valve has hit at the root of the matter. I fear there
are ungodly members in Shouting Church, whose cor-
rupt lives and scandalous practices are a reproach to
Christianity, and for whose iniquity God withholds his
Spirit." Here the preacher paused, with Valve and a
few like him nodding a hearty assent, while the mem-
bers generally looked woefully solemn. "Now," con-
tinued the elder, in authoritative accents, "the good of
the church demands that we should take some steps
to discover at whose door the sin lies. Who is the
guilty party ? AMio hath covered Zion with shame and
given offence unto Israel ? Let him speak !"

Sister Tearful, to throw the cloak of zeal over her
own hollow pretensions, saddled the sin on Jim Crock-
er for crossing his feet while the fiddle was playing.
Sister Sorrowful arraigned Nancy Dovetail for sing-
ing a reel at the last corn-shucking. 'Squire Crank-
side preferred a charge against Jake Spatterboard,
" 'cause," said he, "Jake ha'int 'tended mectin' sense
the baptizin'." Other indictments in superlative abun-
dance were at the tongues' end of the accusers, when
Elder Combustible interposed.

"You have tithed mint, anise, and cummin." said

92 Good Gumption

he, caustically, "but the weightier matters of the law
you have studiously neglected. I hear reports of dis-
honesty, profanity, drunkenness, covetousness, and
lying among you; yet you have treated these things as
virtues." Then, turning to a number of delinquents
whose weaknesses lay in the above-mentioned specifi-
cations, his cheeks aglow with righteous indignation,
he concluded, "I tell you in love, yet plainly, they that
do such things shall be damned."

Stung to the quick, old Spasmodic rose, trembling,
and delivered himself.

"Bretherings," said he, with decision; "this makes
forty year I has been a member of the church, an' as
fur as I 'members, I never has knowed a 'ligious in-
trust to be started by discussin' sich p'ints as tem-
per'nce an' honesty; an' furdermo', if you interduce
'em here, it will invariable fling coolness on the meet-
in'. An' mo'n that, here an' thar, I moves unanimous
that we invite Parson Smoke, the evangelist, who
leaves these minor p'ints in the background an' preach-
es erbout great matters like hebenly rest an' rickogni-
tion, to come an' 'spoun' the gawspel fur er few days,
beginnin' with termorrow. \\'hat we wants is fire,
says I !"

The venerable Spasmodic took his seat, the motion
was carried as by a whirlwind, and the quandary meet-
ing closed, the disciples of fuss crying, "Fire! fire!
fire !"

Sure enough, next morning at eleven o'clock Par-
son Smoke appeared on the ground, creating no little
sensation among professors, and arousing dubious
conjectures among the ungodly. His reputation hav-

Reviving Shouting Church 93

ing preceded liiin, some of his admirers stood on the
chtirch steps recounting- his labors and marvelous suc-
cesses.

"Yes," chimed in Spasmodic, "I 'tended er Vival he
hilt at Coonskin Lluirch, an", if I'm livin', he nat'ally
raked 'em in by scores an' forties. Everything was
er blazin' at ole Coonskin fur onct, an' some un 'em
said how it was as glorious er meetin' as the apostle
ministers hilt in days past an' gone. He'll tech er
match to the tinder an' have these good ole sisters er
holler in' an' er weepin' afore this time termorrow. If
he don't I hain't no prophet, I hain't."

"Xur is me," sniffled Sniffles, indorsing what had
been said, and about to deliver himself further, when
the choir, in notes of thunder, announced the hotu^ of
worship.

"The first thing to do," whispered the evangelist to
Combusti1)le, as they walked up the aisle, "is to stir
up the brethren, for I can sway no power over sinners
so long as the Lord's people are cold and indifferent.
Xow point out to me the most impulsive, emotional
sister in the congregation — one who, under the strong
influences of the Spirit, wouldn't mind giving audible
expression to her inward peace."

"W'e have quite a num1)er who can fill that bill, but
you will find Sister Tearful an tmfailing witness to
the truth, as also is Sister Periodical, if the mood
strikes her. The latter, however, is the more boister-
ous in the manifestation of her joy."

"She's a daisy," whispered Smoke, entering the pul-
pit and announcing to the choir "The Old Ship of
Zion." -

94 Good Gumption

The evangelist preached briefly and impressively of
the wonders he had seen and done, and portrayed
touchingly the death-beds of sainted little girls, who
had caught glimpses of the angels and had gone to
heaven on shining wings. He then described minute-
ly the meeting of the saints in the world above, pic-
turing vividly husbands and wives rushing together
in sacred squeeze, children running a race to embrace
first a departed mother, and all the hosts of light war-
bling one eternal song as the chief end of the heavenly
life and the goal of celestial activity. In spite of the
evangelist's description, I always have thought I would
like to go to heaven.

"Now," finally said the gifted speaker, "I want all
Christians to come forward and shake hands with me,
while the choir sings 'Children of the Heavenly
King.' " ^ A numerous throng showed their apprecia-
tion of the privilege, patrolling the aisle in unmistaka-
ble ecstacies, shaking not only the preacher's hand, but
that of everybody else they could reach. This was
Smoke's plan of "getting up steam," and it proved
eminently successful. Indeed, all hands were steam-
ing, and not a few were about to boil over. Spasmodic
was simmering.

Turning suddenly and vehemently toward the un-
converted, the accomplished exhorter next displayed
his wonderful powers of persuasion.

"Let every sinner in the house," said he, "who de-
sires to go to heaven, arise and come to these anxious
seats for mercy and life, while the brethren sing an
appropriate hymn. Sing, brethren."

Nest-egg, solemn and alone, promptly obe'yed.

Reviving Shouting Church 95

'Thank the Lord!" shouted the overjoyed cvanj^el-
ist; "thank the Lord! Xow, if for any cause you do
not see fit to come to the mourners' bench, please hold
up your rig-ht hand, and that will do as well." Not a
soul stirred. "I shall now vary the invitation a little.
Let every unconverted person in ilic house who de-
sires to flee from the wrath to come, stand up." A lit-
tle tallow-faced girl stood up. "Glory!" screamed
Smoke, in an eruption of ecstasies. "Now, if any one
is interested about his soul, please raise the right
hand." No response. "Then, the left." Still no re-
sponse. "Now I make this request : All who w^ant the
Christians present to pray for them, will please kneel
down." Every knee was rigid. "Then nod your head
— then crook your finger — then wink one eye — then
poke out your tongue."

But sinners were obdurate. The earnest man, how-
ever, had the burden of souls on him, and made a last
strong appeal. "If any one here, man, woman, or
child, male or female," said he, "wishes to escape the
terrors of the bottomless pit and start to-day for glory
and the New Jerusalem, let him blow his nose."

Not a nasal organ performed the desired function.
The parson had labored so far in wain, Ijut his re-
sources, as we shall see, were not yet exhausted. An
hour's recess being given for dinner, the congregation
left the sanctuary, discussing the versatile preacher,
his wonderful sermon, and his powerful appeals.

During dinner hour, I left Jack Cheesequakes and
Nancy Dovetail in charge of a huge watermelon, and,
in the blissful company of A\''idnw Campbell's angelic
dattghter sauntered d^wn to the spring. Polytechnic

96 Good Gumption

for once was grave; usually she was as mirthful as a
lark. Her very smile was sad ; still, for the life of me,
I couldn't help feeling like eating her up. But I didn't
do it.

We returned in silence to the church — silence I
say, because my fair companion was too embarrassed
to speak, and I was too sheepish to venture an angle
of vision beyond my big toes, realizing that Polytech-
nic now understood the secret workings of my mind,
and had the advantage of me. Besides, how did I
know I would ever get such a chance again? The
blackness of darkness !

The great congregation w^as once more seated, and
the usual preliminaries were over, w^ien the versa-
tile gentleman in cloth requested all professing Chris-
tians present to bow at their seats and sing on their
knees. This was a novel feature in protracted meet-
ings, but it took like wdldfire among the simple folk of
Shouting Church. Of course all knelt ; that is, all came
as near it as possible, for Sister Periodical, besides
having eaten rather heartily, w^as of a rotund shape
unsuited to the kneeling posture, and sat flat on the
floor. Nest-egg rested on his stomach. Not a few
squatted. It was indeed altogether a most interesting
and picturesque scene, though some people were so
eccentric as to say they saw no connection between
such things and religion.

"Arise!" cried Smoke, ''and testify!" Then, ap-
proaching the periodic disciple, he whispered, "We
expect to hear from you immediately, sister. The suc-
cess of the meeting depends upon you. Give a lusty
shout for the Tord."

C

So :

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(97)

98 Good Gumption

And she gave it. Pointing her huge fists toward the
stars, and developing a bhssful smile, the proportions
of which I hesitate to calculate without the help of the
logarithmic table, she broke loose most zealously.
Then followed in quick succession those tried and
faithful worthies, Sisters Tearful and Sorrowful.
Brother Sniffles, determined not to be outdone, shoved
off himself, clapping his hands at a furious rate, ac-
companied by Crankside, Spasmodic, and a host of old
heroes, whose zeal was to knowledge as infinity to
zero.

Nest-egg himself became unusually anxious, weep-
ing and writhing on his seat, observing which, some of
the boys declared he was "pipped." But when the long
and patient seeker arose and delivered his testimony
in deafening tones of exultation, a dozen voices cried
simultaneously, "Nest-egg's hatched at last!" Some
asked whether it was a rooster or a pullet, while others
declared it to be a goose. This was the first profession
of the meeting.

Resolved to make the most of the occasion, the de-
lighted Smoke sent the jubilant shouters among the
pews as heralds of mercy, stirring up things as they
went. They led mourners by the score to the anxious
seat. Polytechnic went up in custody of Sister Sor-
rowful, seeing which, my pulse quickened, and I came
near going up myself. The mourners' benches were
becoming rapidly popular, and matters were moving
on briskly. About six "came through" a minute. As
they "perfessed," to use Sister Periodical's language,
they arose Hmberly from their seats and then, clapping
their hands, wiping their eyes, smiling, laughing, cry-

Reviving Sliouting Church 99

ing, f^houling. they rushed frantically down the aisle
to some unconverted relative or friend, either kneeling
and imploring them to go forward, or hugging them
most emi)hatically.

Stirring times, those! Indeed the penitents began
to profess so rapidl}-. that po])-corn in a skillet over a
bed of coals, was, in comparison, a tame performance.
At length, as beautiful as a new-born rose and as
graceful as a comet, Polytechnic professed, and started
for me. "The Campbells are coming," said T ; and by
my side sat the darling girl. I could have stayed there
a week.

"Won't you go forward. Red?" she pleaded, but the
mystery l)eing not altogether satisfactory, I replied,
"I'm a-thinkin'. Polytechnic."

"But," said the bewitching creature, "won't you do
it for my sake?^"

"^^'hat ? Polvtechnic, for vour sake? AMiv. I'd
wade through millstones and mud-puddles for you."

So I rose and went in haste. True, I had no reli-
gious seriousness whatever, and by no means intended
to play the hypocrite, but as for resisting Miss Camp-
bell just at this juncture, it was simply an impossi-
bility.

The evangelist announced, as soon as he could com-
mand silence to be heard, that he did not intend to dis-
miss the congregation until every sinner in the house
came forward for prayer. Tie accordingly started
twenty-seven brethren to ])raying at the same time,
each striving to pitch his petition in a louder key than
the others in order to be heard. This, in turn, put in
motion about fortv sisters, who shouted with such sue-

100 Good Gumption

cess that Smoke announced, with something of vehe-
mence, that the New Jerusalem had come down from
on high. It was the hvehest time I ever witnessed.
Some of the mourners professed two and three times,
while Sister Periodical became so zealous that she had
to be fenced off in a corner to herself. Spasmodic
straddled the pulpit, clapped his hands, and began to
sing :

"O ! come, and won't you go ?"

Matters were now ripe for Smoke to make the home
stretch. Seizing a chair from the stand, and engag-
ing the services of two husky officials, he commanded
them to go into the highways and hedges and compel
the ungodly to come in. "This," said he, "is the gos-
pel chair; blessed is he that rideth therein." The obe-
dient porters took the "gospel chair" and brought in
it penitents as fast as they could. Up rode Jack
Cheesequakes, in a broad grin ; then came Toothpick
Wheazles, alighting from the chair and taking a seat
by me. The very sight of him brought to my mind the
spelling match, and prompted the unfair inquiry,
"Which is worse in a fellow's eye, gnats or Smoke?"

But the evening was growing late, and the "gospel
chair," though effective in its way, proved too slow a
process. Therefore the preacher provided a more ex-
peditious method. Marshaling a force of six muscular
brethren and pointing to a crude bench back of the pul-
pit, he gravely said, "This is the sacred couch; go,
gather up all the ends of the earth and fetch them
hither." Off they went to the rear of the church, and
captured six at a time, bringing them forward and un-

Reviving Shouting Church 101

loading them with proper celerity. All the while the
saints were shouting, the penitents professing, and the
preacher exhorting.

Nearly all the mourners had now professed, and
were inexpressibly happy. E\en Toothpick had be-
come a disciple. Only a few "reprobates" — as Smoke
expressed it — were left. Of course, all the children
and young girls had "come through" without a jar;
and there being no further material to work upon, the
faithful herald resolved to close the meeting, stating
that there had been a hundred and forty-nine precious
souls hopefully converted. Then, opening his valise
and selling a number of his little books, he took up a
collection and left for Popcorn Valley, the next field
of his labors.

/ DO SOME COURTING

Chapter IX.

Toothpick Wheazles of late had been visiting
Mrs. Campbell's with a frequency that had become
somewhat — well, I don't mean exactly dangerous, but
perhaps a little alarming and considerably irritating;
not because I was at all jealous, but because I looked
upon the matter from the viewpoint of a philosopher,
and such proceedings naturally made me feel intoler-
ablv lonesome.

I discovered also that my general health was queer-
ly affected. Of course I was not the least jealous, only
I lost flesh at the rate of two pennyweights a minute.
My whole body seemed to be shrinking by some
strange mathematical law, yet I was not jealous.
Most people would have been. Nothing about my eyes
was visible but the iris ; my skin was not only dry and
parched, but green and yellow in streaks; my jaw-
bones at times became incapable of action ; my tongue
stuck to the roof of my mouth; my pulse beat feebly
about once every two hours; my cheeks were pallid;
my- ears flopped; my underlip dropped; and my back-
bone ciu'ved to such an extent that as I walked my
fingers dragged tipon the ground. At least, you would
have imagined this about to happen to have seen me.
The world seemed to be a mass of indigo cinders un-

fl02)

1 Do Some Courting 103

dcr my feel, bui i was not jealous. 1 was indeed a
pitiable phantom. Sleep fled from my eyes and hope
fled from my heart; love l)led and ambition died. The
village undertaker passed me and smiled.

What a depressing effect incongruities lia\e on a
well-balanced mind! Nothing but total freedom from
jealousy, and the exercise of a resolute philosophy,
saved me from complete wreck and a sjK'cdy demise.
j\ly precarious state was greatly aggravated by the
favorable impression my rival was making in certain
directions at Coon Hollow, by reason of his great pos-
sessions. Widow Campbell in the meantime (and
widows with i)retty daughters occasionally will fall
heir to such infirmities), was no little infatuated ]jy
\\'heazles's saw-mills and big talk; and it became nau-
seously evident to me that my opponent was growing
daily in the esteem of the head member of the Camp-
bell firm. Still. I was not jealous.

Suspense is painful; and the next thing T knew.
Buce])halus was tied up at Coon Hollow, and his mas-
ter sat in \\'idow Cami)be]rs i)ar]or.

"T wish to see ?^liss Polytechnic Campbell," I had
said, meekly, to a slim maid that answered my knock.

After a bit, gentle feet came tajvtapping down the
steps, warning me that the crisis was at hand. Miss
Campbell entered, greeting me with the sweetest smile
I had ever beheld. T rr)se to meet her, and pressed that
fair, precious, darling, little hrmd for about a minute,
iiUending to seat myself beside her on the divan before
relaxing my grasp. P>ut the bewitching girl was at-
tired so far beyond anything T had anticipated, that
mv heart sank within me, and T retreated to one corner

104 Good Gumption

of the room, while Polytechnic occupied another. She
seemed to swim in waves of "illusion"'^that's what
it's called, I think— while her golden ringlets, sport-
ing in blue and scarlet ribbons, fell luxuriantly upon
her dimpled shoulders. ^Her eyes were unusually soft
and radiant, and her cheeks were deeply crimsoned in
testimony of her evident embarrassment. I never
knew how much I adored her until that hour.

But, thought I, as I gazed at my dingy breeches,
patched shoes, and rusty old coat (that my grandfa-
ther had been married in, and which came nearly
down to my ankles) it would be solemn mockery to sit
beside such a creature, much mol"e to ask her hand.
Shuddering at my boldness, ashamed of my imperti-
nence, realizing my danger, and beginning to choke,
I started to get behind the screen ; but concluding that
it was wiser to make an attack than to sufifer myself
to be treed, I resolved to try my fortune. So I said
nothing for fifteen doleful minutes.

At the end of that time, moved by an irresistible
impulse, I marched across the parlor and sat down as
near Polytechnic as possible. For another solemn
fifteen minutes I was as silent as an Egyptian mum-
my. Finally I summoned sufficient courage to cross
my legs, but spake not. T fingered at my coat-tail in
the fond hope that T might recall the speech T had pre-
pared, but no speech came. I put my hands in my
pockets, cleared my throat, took out my handkerchief,
and wiped my nose; but my speech was irretrievably
gone.

"Polytechnic," said T, at length, resolving to risk
an extempore address, "T have come to — "

I Do Some Courting 105

Ah me ! I was just getting oft" when a sudden, quick
tap at the front door interrupted the flow of my love
and language. Widow Campbell was in the kitchen,
making cake for Sunday, so 1 thought it devolved
upon me to answer the knock. I plunged fiercely to-
ward the door, and lo, and behold ! it was Toothpick
W'heazles.

"I wish to see Miss Polytechnic Campbell privately
a few moments," said he, grumly.

"T have already," said I. with a sweet smile, "en-
gaged jMiss Campbell's company and the parlor for a
fortnight. If you desire to see the widow, you can
walk 'round to the kitchen and amuse yourself su-
perintending pots and kindling fires with lumber from
your saw-mills."

Pale with rage, the youth departed, with vengeance
in liis heart. Poor fellow! Nemesis must have her
way, and it was his turn to pine.

Again I sat beside that seraphic form, and at-
tempted to tell the tale of my love.

"Sweetest sweetness," whispered I, with the soft-
ness of a frosted persimmon, "I have come to — "

Here the slim maid approached the door with glass-
es of water, but seeing the menacing shake of my fist,
she darted through the passage, falling and breaking
the glasses with a tremendous squall and crash. This
catastrophe, of course, brought Mrs. Campbell into
the parlor to see what was the matter. And there I
sat beside Polytechnic, my face as red as a beet and
my heart throbbing like a steam engine, while the poor,
patient girl — girls are generally patient when they are
about to be courted — bore it with fortitude.

106 Good Gumption

When solitude and silence had calmed again my
troubled sea, I launched my bark on placid waters and
hoisted my canvas to catch the zephyrs of propitious
love. Gazing dreamily into the heavenly azure of
Polytechnic's eyes, inhaling the exhilarating odors of
acacia, Jockey Club and violets that floated on the air
as she shook her handkerchief carelessly, I took up the
burden of my mission.

"Sweetest sugar," I said, with dripping softness,
"I have come to — "

Unspeakable horrors! a rap like a peal of thunder
annoimced a visitor at the front door. This time it
was Hydrogen Mush, who had come in haste to notify
Mrs. Campbell that her pigs were in his turnip patch.
Judging that a pig excitement just at that juncture
would prove a misfortune beyond repair, I insisted on
the 'Squire coming in, that there was about to be a fu-
neral, and he would be needed as a pallbearer. Hydro-
gen retreated, as any man would do attired in his shirt-
sleeves in time of obsequies, and, I presume, attended
to the pigs alone.

A fourth time I settled down to the hazardous task
of courting. My affections again began to glow like
a spark from Vesuvius, while my tongue was prepar-
ing to utter unutterable things. Crimson beauty
sported on Polytechnic's cheeks, celestial radiance
broke from her eyes as from a cataract of suns, and
angelic sweetness robed her as with a garment.

"Celestial peach," I asseverated, in low accents, "I
have come to — "

Ah! fortune seemed to have sprung a leak: for a
svndicate of female voices in the kitchen screamed^

CO

y

y.

H
W

(107)

108 Good Gumption

"Fire! fire!" which so startled my shattered nerves
that I leaped from the divan and butted my head
against the low ceiling with disastrous effect. Finally,
however, rallying from my bewilderment, I rushed
headlong into the culinary department, to behold a
prostrate stove-pipe unjointed, and the air filled with
smoke and cinders. The pipe was soon righted, and
matters were once more quiet. Surely the poet had
me in his mind's eye when he wrote that true but sick-
ening line :

The course of true love never did run smooth.

I think this misfortune is due mainly to female
maidens. But any way, I sat me again on that same
divan, by the side of that same bewitching girl. Again
the thoughts came, and the thought went, and the love
burned.

"Distilled honey," whispered T, dreamily, 'T have
come to — "

"Ouch!" I cried, and Polytechnic jumped. An un-
civilized wasp had, with malice aforethought, invaded
my trousers, and was engaged in a most telling war-
fare on my leg. I yelped ; I bent double ; I squeezed
my limb where the battle was raging most keenly,
trying in vain to crush my foe, but the barbarian, like
a certain noted ghost, would not down. Then I made
a stupendous effort to sit on him, but sat on his sting —
and felt hurt.

By this time Polytechnic had come bravely to my
assistance. Armed with a broomstick, she stood over
me striking the place where T indicated the presence

I Do Some Courting 109

of the wasp, but this heroic treatment faihng, she
seized the tongs from the hearth, and — pinched my
already sore liesh in a last attempt to stay the fearful
havoc the insect was making. 1 groaned under the
hand 1 loved. At length, however, she secured the
wasp in the tongs, and thus removed the last obstacle
from the rough path of cotn-tshij). It seemed for a
while that I wotild never rally, and that the avowal of
my affection would hnve to be indefinitely postponed.
I sat beside her. The accidents appeared to be over;
there was peace.

My recent experiences had exhausted me so I fell
asleep. I awoke. She was gone. I ran to the door
and jerked the bell. The servant came.

"I want to see Miss Campbell," said 1.

"She'll come as soon as she gets through latighing,"
said she. "Take a seat in the parlor."

Polytechnic came. I sat beside her.

"Oozing syrup," said I, "I have come to [no calami-
ty this time] say I love you." Taking her snowy hand
in mine, I asked, "\\"ould yoti be sorry if I were
dead ?"

Slic answered by tears that began to well in her
dee]) bkie eyes.

"Incarnate perfection," I said, mellifluously. "vou
are the light of my life, the joy of my soul, the mel-
lowest nectarine in the garden of my affections, and
the brightest star in the sky of my hopes. I have come
to ask you to be my wife. T possess no saw-mills, but
T do own a family tree. I am descended from King
Alfred of England, although my father is a farmer,
poor and plain. I own nothing but a little mule and a

110 Good Gumption

big heart, and it is my grief that i have not the gold
of Ophir and the cedars of Lebanon to lay at your feet.
It would be my supreme joy to consecrate myself and
mule to }'our service, and to write our names together
on the sands of Possum Creek. Cherubic duck, can
you smile on a worm? Can you look with compassion
on dust and ashes ? Will you suffer a dog to walk in
the light of your countenance and die in the shadow
of your smile?"

"Red," ejaculated the bewitching, blushing girl,
"this is so sudden. I cannot return a positive answer
until I speak with mother. You will have to ask ma.
Red."

"Goodness gracious!" cried I, in an agony of aston-
ishment ; but oft' the darling creature ran.

A variety of emotions flitted through my disordered
soul as I awaited the dread approach of Mrs. Camp-
bell. T am sure I had found difficulty enough in dis-
closing my heart to the daughter, but to go over the
matter to the mother in cold blood, without the inspi-
ration of loving eyes and the pressure of soft hands,
w^as an outrage upon all the metaphysics of my na-
ture. After some minutes — though it seemed to me to
be only seconds — Mrs. Campbell entered, with a plate
of cakes, ten of which T demolished in an attempt to
collect my thoughts. There was just one solitary little
cake left when Airs. Campbell opened fire with her
batteries upon me.

*'Mr. Beans," she said, in a calm, motherly, lie-not-
to-me-sir sort of voice ; "my daughter informs me that
you have requested her hand in marriage. Now, as
Polytechnic's mother, it is my privilege and duty to

I Do Some Courting 111

inquire as to your ability to maintain a wife, and the
amount of your income. These matters are very im-
portant in contractinjT^ marriage, and hence I ask can-
didly, sir. are you able to suj^port a family?"

"Ma — am?" gasped 1. realizing for the first time
the solemnity of courting a girl. But oddly enough
Fortune came to my aid and Mrs. Campbell, being a
little deaf, understood me to answer in the affirmative.
But luck was always mine.

*'I am pleased," she continued, "to learn }ou have
some means, Mr. Beans, since a poor man could not
possibly meet the exigencies of the case. I am getting
old, as you see, and several of my daughters never will
marry, so of course, we shall expect to live with Poly-
technic."

For the space of two minutes T spoke not. T thought
of my poor little mule ; I thought of the barren hills at
Shakerag ; I thought of a robust widow and five husky,
don't-need-any-medicine-to-day-thank-you girls to be
fed by the strength of my arm ; and — I thought — for
once in my life — seriously of saw-mills.

"Madam." mumbled I, at length, the prospect rising
gloomily before me ; " 'sufficient unto the day is the
evil thereof.' "

Mrs. Camp1)ell. mistaking the force of my borrowed
words, and judging mc to be exceeding pious because
of my ready use of Scripture, left the parlor elated at
the idea of being elevated to the position of mother-
in-law.

"Mr. Beans," she said as she retired, "Polytech-
nic has my full consent to act as her heart dictates
in this matter. And I assure you I know of no young

112 Good Gumption

gentleman into whose hands I would rather trust my
daughter than you."

I was just about, in my fit of exultation, to start up
a psalm, when again the happy, blushing girl sat by
my side.

"Polytechnic," said I, in wooing accents, "your
mother said she would trust you in my hands ; and as
you are an obedient child, you must do her will."

And into my hands she came. Verily, nothing is
more handy than a lovesick girl.

"Tell me. Polytechnic," said I, gently drawing her
closer to my side, "do you love me, 'ittle boo'f ul dove ?"

"Oh ! Heredity, you know I do," whispered the in-
nocent, artless girl, burying her face in my necktie.

This was too much for me. I clapped my hands ; T
squealed; T cried; I laughed; I hugged the center-
table; I straddled the piano-stool and turned round;
and not knowing what to do next, I sealed the engage-
ment with the lover's seal, and hastened to Bucepha-
lus. The night had grown late when life's problem
at last was solved. Engaged ! Whoop ! Polytechnic
loved me ! Toothpick was beaten ! Glory ! I got hap-
pier and happier. How large I was ! How small all
others !

Ecstasies kept accumulating. I thought I would
burst. T tied the halter around my waist to prevent,
an explosion. I struck spurs to my animal, and in a
moment reached the outer gate. Leaping from my
saddle upon the gatepost, I flapped my arms and
crowed. This started all the gobblers and roosters in
the neighborhood to gobbling and crowing. "Fellow-
partners of my joy, thank you!" said I. I remounted

I Do Some Courting 113

my mule ; and as I looked toward the heavens above, I
thought the stars were never so fair, and went home
singing:

"There's nothing- half so sweet in life
As love's young dream."

And there isn't.
8

AT SHEEPSKIN COLLEGE

Chapter X.

The melancholy days had come, the saddest of the year,

Of scanning odes and proving sums so long and dark and queer.

My college career was at hand. It was a sad strain
upon my ripening affections to leave for six or eight
long months the beautiful Polytechnic. But my father
comforted me by the assurance that, if I studied hard,
I would win about forty prizes and secure a harvest
of sheepskins, wdiich would bring me into such re-
nown that I speedily could procure such a situation as
would enable me to support a wife handsomely. Un-
der the influence of such a pleasing possibility, I con-
sented to forego all the joys of my boyhood and sol-
emnly consecrate myself to learning.

I arrived at Sheepskin College without event, re-
ported myself to the president, Doctor Jonathan Cy-
clops, and set to work grubbing among Greek, Latin,
and mathematical roots — and occasionally, with prop-
er company, among a more interesting class of roots,
known in college and common phraseology as sweet
potatoes. This dif^cult branch of the curriculum was
always prosecuted in the night, and conducted by a
professor elected by the students. Very often I filled
the chair — or rather the basket — myself. Under or-
dinary circumstances, such procedure justly might be
(114)

At Sheepskin College 115

denominated theft, but at Sheepskin College it could
receive no harder name than necessary spoliation.
This statement A\ill l)e iustificMl by reference to the fol-
lowing recipe, found tacked inside the kitchen door:

Soup a la ^Mode.
One barrel tlishwater, three cakes tallow, two ox ribs, iiinr-
teen grains rice, three turnips, four Irish potatoes, one dozen
pods bull pepper, one bag sage, half peck salt, one bushel
onions, couple well-used dish rags, three deceased flies. Cook
t\vo days, and serve at temperature 39° F. with pewter spoons.

But there is something worse than soup for a school-
boy— for instance, a professor's daughter just bloom-
ing into innocent pertness. Ti may seem a little odd
that in treating of Sheepskin College T should discuss
a professor's daughter, but. it must be remembered
that I am not acting the part of a novelist, nor writing
as a philosopher, but sim])ly chronicling such facts as
entered into my own experience or especially attracted
my attention. One morning- a servant tapped at my
dormitory with a note, which read as follows :

Dr. Cyclops will be pleased to have ^Mr. Beans
take tea with him this evening at nine o'clock.

Tea! why, T didn't drink tea; and T never went to
tea anywhere in my life. T did not know what it was
to "take tea," but supposed it meant a sort of party,
with oceans of that fluid. So I responded with becom-
ing gravity : •

Dr. Cyclops shall have the pleasure he anticipates;
and .Mr. Beans will dine with him at tea.

Just how T happened to receive such signal honor is
explained by an error that had crept into the papers.
My grandmother died and left me v$7.50, which the

116 Good Gumption

printer made $75,000. So, it being heralded abroad
that I had fallen heir to a fortune, I became a person
of some note, even in literary circles. This erroneous
impression unfortunately was deepened by the fact
that I kept Bucephalus at college to ride and drive on
holidays, making him pay his board by hiring him out
at other times. But the display of seeming wealth was
wholly unintentional. The president. Dr. Cyclops, was
poor ; his daughter was pretty ; I had a supposed for-
tune ; hence came the invitation.

Imagine a poor, unlettered boy from Shakerag tak-
ing tea with the president of a great college ! A man
who had a dictionary on his tongue, a couple of ency-
clopaedias in his head, and who could repeat poetry by
the hour, besides many other things at the bare men-
tion of which I almost went into spasms ! But I found
myself, however, just as the college clock struck -three,
climbing the Doctor's front steps.

I saw, as I drew up opposite the door, a polished
bronze knob over which was printed, "Pull.'' I pulled.
Something seemed to give way; wires rattled, things
jingled, echoes seemed to be wrestling together in the
basement. I never had such an experience before. I
imagined T had pulled the spigot out of a volcano and
had brought speedy ruin on the professor's house.
Like a flash of lightning I leaped over the front gate
and was making such good running time that my coat-
tail changed the perpendicular for the horizontal di-
rection, when a soft feminine voice called out, "We're
at home, Mr. Beans; come in."

I returned in fear and trembling, shook hands with
Finikie, the president's daughter, a handsome girl of

■il.i'r J

o

>

o

D
o

c

Q
<

O
<

(117)

118 Good Gumption

just sweet sixteen, and inquired mildly if any damage
had been done, and what would be the cost of repairs.
Finikie assured me no harm had befallen ; it was just
the way the door-bell had of doing ; and after she had
showed me the whole arrangement, my alarm was as-
suaged. There were no door-bells where I came from,
like that.

Finikie expressed some surprise at my coming so
early in the evening, apologizing for the absence of
flowers in the vases. I comforted her by saying one
pink was sufficient for a parlor. She received the com-
pliment gracefully, and glancing at the clock, inquired
with some embarrassment: "Mr. Beans, you said in
your note of acceptance that you would dine with us
at tea and we thought perhaps you intended to give us
the pleasure of your company both at dinner and at
tea. Have you been to dinner ?"

*'0h! Miss Finikie," said I, clearing my throat in
order to give my collapsed brain time to right itself,
never having thought that ''dine" meant anything else
than eat. "You are so refined, immaterial, spiritual,
that you could not detect that half-fledged boji inof
which coupled dinner and tea, intimating the double
enjoyment I anticipated."

Finikie confessed her dullness, and, after asking
pardon, suggested that it was a beautiful evening for
a drive to the college park. Of course, Bucephalus
was ordered at once and soon stood at the Doctor's
gate awaiting his precious cargo.

With a gay laugh and a flourish of ribbons, Finikie
leaped into the buggy, seized the reins, and became
undisputed mistress of ceremonies. The lane echoed

At Sheepskin College 119

with peals of merriment and hilariotis shouting, while
Finikie jerked and lashed Bucephalus. I am sure 1
said nothing funny, and yet Finikie roared and
screamed; and the more silent I grew, the more wildly
hysterical Finikie became. Poor creature, like a tor-
rent rushing on, she continued to raise her voice to
higher and yet higher notes, finally shrieking at such
a lofty and dangerous height that I feared some se-
rious accident would befall her lungs. Bucephalus,
unused to such unearthly sounds, ventured soberly to
look back to investigate the matter; and, discovering
Finikie's tangled hair, beribboned head, and brow
shrouded in bangs, took fright, depositing the presi-
dent's daughter in a brier-patch and lodging me on a
fence-rail to witness his speed through an adjoining
field. But who could blame the mule ?

After this came frequent invitations to the presi-
dent's house ; daily came bouquets from the president's
daughter. In accepting both invitations and bouquets,
I had no idea of encouraging false hopes, nor any de-
sign of becoming an actor in a ridiculous farce. But
Finikie fell in love with me, without my knowledge or
consent, and misinterpreted my social visits as sure-
enough courtship. T was simply homesick and love-
sick, and glad of any opportunity to practice nonsense
with a rattling girl whom I knew already to be en-
gaged.

\\'hen. however, I saw a certain fellow moping
about college pale and ghostly, I might have divined,
had I been of a suspicious temperament, that the gos-
ling had felt the force of a feminine foot. But a blind
man sees nothing; hence, I did not see the potent af-

120 Good Gumption

finity between a reputed $75,000 man and an $1,1 00
girl. Before that unhappy rag of a paper blundered
into the grotesque mistake respecting my grandmoth-
er's bequest, the president knew me only at a distance ;
now he invited me to his home. Finikie had turned up
her nose at me a time or two, and refused to go with
me to a funeral ; but now she smiled on me across the
cemetery, and proposed on one occasion to go with me
to a hanging. This wondrous metamorphosis in be-
havior I thought, at the time, was due to the family
having gotten religion, or to the publication in the
"Literary Comet," the college paper, of the following
poem on the death of old Dix, the college sexton. In-
cidentally the poem rounded up thirteen prizes for me
at Commencement :

' IN MEMORIAM.
Dirge.

7 &7,
Earth and heaven ;

9& I,
It's just begun ;

2 & 10,

Then comes the end;

6 & 4.

Forever more

Across the Styx

Is fled old Dix.

Requiem.

Now students all, with one accord,

Lament for poor old Dix ;

Consign his ashes to the sward,

And row him o'er the Styx.

I found later, however, that their marvelous cour-
tesies were due to the impression that I was the lucky

At Sheepskin College 121

heir to a bit of lucre. Oh! no wonder the poet, in the
chniax of his loftiest apostrophe, exclaimed,

Oh ! thou potent Dollar.
Thou irresistible Tin I

So a roseate scheme was laid by the Cyclopses for
my speedy marriage with Finikie, of which 1 was kei)t
in profotmd ignorance. 1 loved Polytechnic Camp-
bell, and it seemed a compotmd, double-distilled im-
pertinence for anybody to suspect otherwise; yet my
country raising forbade my viewing events and signs
with any other than an unsophisticated eye. The cake,
ice cream, and flowers that made their way to my study
daily, and often semi-daily, I interpreted as neighbor-
ly acts and tokens of friendship ; yet I never dreamed
of addressing love to Miss Cyclops, nor did I opine
that Finikie's afTections were awakened toward me.

Even had not my devotions already been disposed
of, it would have appeared sinftil for a poor, untu-
tored, backwoods lad to aspire to nuptial relations with
the cultured and aristocratic daughter of a college
president. Tn unfeigned gratitude to this kind family,
I expressed freely my sense of appreciation, assevera-
ting with considerable emotion that T loved Dr. Cy-
clops, his wife, and daughter, and that I looked upon
the Doctor as a father, and Mrs. Cyclops as a mother.
Most unhappily, Finikie seized upon this avowal as a
declaration of love, and so reported to her parents,
giving rise to a visitation from President Cyclops.

It was four o'clock, as I sat in my study giving the
finishing touch to the peroration of a twenty-seven
page (foolscap) letter to Polytechnic, when a stately
knock at the door announced the venerable Doctor.

122 Good Gumption

"Why, Doctor," said I, in some surprise, "is it you?
Glad to see you, sir! Have a seat," enjoined I, point-
ing to a three-legged stool, while I myself located on
the pictured end of a soap-box.

"What have you been doing, my l3oy?" familiarly
inquired my distinguished visitor.

"Oh! nothing; just closing up a small volume on
love," answered I, with a candid smile.

"Ho! yi!" exclaimed my honored guest. "You vo-
taries of Cupid are all alike ; you write as the amorous
muse dictates."

"Yes, Doctor; there's an a-musing element in us
all," replied I, with an attempt at facetiousness.

"True, Heredity; and my present a-muse-ment
proves your proposition. Ahem — this bit of pleasant-
ry introduces the object of my visit. My daughter in-
forms me that you have made a declaration of love to
her, and at the start I wish to know whether the mat-
ter is fully understood by both parties."

"Certainly, Doctor ; I love your daughter, yourself,
and wife. You have all been so kind to me that I would
be the veriest ingrate, if I loved you not. I have fre-
quently so expressed myself to my classmates."

"It is then your full intention to marry, if I under-
stand you aright?"

"Most assuredly, Doctor ; otherwise I would not be
engaged," said I, with a large degree of enthusiasm,
as I thought of the subangel I had left behind.

"It is w^ll, my boy; I'm glad you consider it an en-
gagement. I rejoice greatly. When do you expect
to marry, Heredity?"

"\\^henever her mother is willing." T replied, color-

At Sheepskin (.ollege 123

ing- a bit, "and 1 can get financial matters in shape, 1
suppose."

"I'm sure, iieredity, her mother will not oijject to
any time you propose, nor will her father," said the
president, with a smile, patting me on the shoulder.

''She has no father." exclaimed 1. in astonishment.

The Doctor stretched his eyes, wiped his eye-glasses,
and, suddenly imagining he saw into the bottom of
things, observed: "I see, you scam]); you have appro-
priated me wholly to yourself. Rut I'll be father to
both of you, anyway."

"Oh! thank you, uion pcrc," I said, tuilizing a Httle
French I had learned the day before, whereupon the
good Doctor chuckled a cheerful farewell to me.

As I sat by my opened window^ one sttltry night not
long afterwards, pondering where I could borrow
thirty-five cents to pay my laundress, whose tender
pleas awakened my sympathies, I heard animated
voices on the Cyclops front porch, discussing a matter
that seemed to be of general interest to the family.

"He's a grand catch." said the president. "It's a
brilliant affair indeed !"

Mrs. Cvci.ops : Yes ; but he's so very odd, so gro-
tesqtiely eccentric, you know.

Dr. Cyclops: But so rich, my dear.

Mrs. Cyclops (resignedly) : Truly, the only re-
deeming feattu-e ; yet, I suppose, that will compensate.

Dr. Cyclops: Even so, dear; splendid catch. T say.

Mrs. Cyclops: And yet, what a pity he is so very
queer. Just think, darling, of our polished Finikie,
the belle of the college, and who wottld be a belle any-
where, wedding a country boor !

124 Good Gumption

Dr. Cyclops {insinuatingly) : But — $75,000, wifie!

Mrs. Cyclops: Of course, dear, circumstances do
alter cases; and $75,000, which is a prize inestimable
to a poor professor's daughter, will change a country
prig into a rustic prince. I must confess, Doctor, I
am simply charmed at Finikie's good fortune.

FiNiKiE {overhearing the conversation and rush-
ing on the porch) : ^^'hy, ma, all the students consider
him a superlj wit, and even the faculty admit that he
is the poetic genius of college.

Dr. Cyclops: Yes; and the $75,000, you know.

Mrs. Cyclops : Ah ! yes.

•Dr. Cyclops : By the way, little wifie, do you know
that I have concocted a small scheme ?

Mrs. Cyclops {with alarm) : Oh! dear. You have
concocted so many schemes that proved valuable only
for the genius displayed in their concoction, that I
have despaired of valuable results. You know, Doc-
tor, you thought your novel would bring you a for-
tune, but somehow publishers didn't take to it. Then
you invented a phonetic alphabet, which you fancied
princes and kings would adopt throughout the world,
but the expense of getting it out nearly ruined us.

Dr. Cyclops : But I've hit rock bottom now ; some-
thing tangible, solid, sure.

Mrs. Cyclops (Jier face brightening up) : \\'hat
now, Mr. Cyclops?

Dr. Cyclops (adjusting his spectacles and looking
tozvard the sky) : \Miy, we'll all go over to Europe
next summer, as a grand bridal party. Just think of
it ! Our lonsf-cherished dreams realized at last ! ^^''e'll
spend the months among Mediterranean zephyrs, on

At Sheepskin College 125

Alpine hcighis, by the springs of Baden-Baden ; and
pass jocund hours in the great capitals of Europe.

jMrs. Cyclops ( practically ) : But what about the
money ?

Dr. Cyclops: Well, by the by. f forgot to say we
have $75,000 backing us. You see, to get into such a
family as the Cyclopses will cost a youngster some-
thing. A man who wouldn't exchange a bit of sordid
gold for such social standing would be a sorry dog
Indeed. The hand of Finikie Cyclops is worth mil-
lions! Did I say millions? I meant billions! Of
course, he'll have to lay down a round ten thousand
for our outfit, fare, pocket money, and that sort of
thing. Yes, dear ; I expect to bring back five hundred
dollars' worth of novelties, to say nothing of a span of
Aral)ian horses and a Paris barouche. How does it
strike you now, dumpling?

Mrs. Cyclops { completely zcoji) : There's celestial
grandeur about it. Perfectly superb! How I'll haunt
Parisian jewelry stores, and spend tireless hours at the
shops ! By the way, Dr. Cyclops, it would be a choice
opportunity for you to get a new wig.

Dr. Cyclops seemed suddenly to remember that he
had important business awaiting him, and retired with
a sigfh. Thus closed a conversation which T heard
with no special interest other than that T was glad to
know that the president had met with some good luck
somewhere. To this matter T shall have occasion to
revert in the next chapter.

A S 7 S , 0 o o FARCE

Chapter XL

I WAS fully clad in parchment at Commencement.
The very generous faculty of Sheepskin College gave
diplomas for pretty nearly everything under the sun
-^good, bad, and indifferent. If a pupil had a good
record he carted away enough sheepskin to make him
a suit of clothes and a spare coat and vest. If his
record were only an average one he had at least a suit
and even if he were only a poor hand at knowledge he
got enough to make a pair of overalls. And with the
gaudy ribbons and the big blob of sealing-wax that
went with every diploma graduates of Doctor Cy-
clops' education factory were sights to behold when
they left the institution.

So, on Commencement Day, I both looked and felt
sheepish — sheepskin under both arms, sheepskin in
both hands, sheepskin in the top of my hat, sheepskin
stuffed in my bootlegs, and sheepskin rammed into
my breeches. It was one of the big days of my life.
Immensely proud of my learning, I happily conceived
the magnificent idea of writing a work of at least five
thousand volumes, each volume to contain about seven
thousand pages, the size of a washboard, with a title-
page that would read something like this :
(126)

AN ENCYCLOPEDIA

OF

UNIVERSAL KNOWLEDGE

EMBRACING ALL THAT IS KNOWN

IN THE HEAVENS ABOVE, OR

IN THE EARTH BENEATH,

OR IN THE WATERS

UNDER THE

EARTH

BY
RED BEANS

•Arlttim Magister

SHAKKRAC, NEAR TOADVILLK, PLANET KAKTM

WE, I'S & COMPANY

THK MOON, THE SOLAR SYSTEM, THE UNIVERSE
ALL THE TIME

(«27)

128 Good Gumption

That's about all I ever wrote of it. Numerous en-
gagements prevented its completion, and besides, I got
the toothache whenever I began work on it.

From College Hall, I went to my room, filled with
bright dreams, crowned with glory, and laden with
hides. I sat down on a box near the window and be-
gan to unroll the ribboned parchment, wondering what
was inscribed by learning's finger on those mysterious
skins. I unrolled, I gazed, I perused. The diploma
in the School of French was the first I chanced to
open. Thus it read :

SHEEPSKIN COLLEGE.
This is to certify that Mv. Heredity Beans has
completed the Course in the School of French, hav-
ing learned to write and speak that language fluent-

^ ly-

In confirmation whereof we place our hand and seal.

Joe Doodle,
Tom Fiddler,
Bill Pumpkins,

Trustees.
Petit Magnan,

Professor.

I pondered and pondered that splendid tribute to my
genius — "having learned to write and speak that lan-
guage fluently." How a few ribbons, a dressed lamb's
skin, and a stroke of a professor's quill can transform
a fellow, thought I. On the very day of examination
it took me five hours to write twenty lines of French,
and then it was only moderately well done ; now I can
write fluently, for the professor hath sworn to it. Un-
til Commencement, I could not make a French barber
understand whether I wanted my hair cut, my beard

A $75,000 Farce 129

shaved, or my shoes blacked. I could not ask in re-
spectable French for a dish of cowpeas, but now I can
"speak that language fluently." Dumfounded, electri-
fied, entranced. I stuck my feet out of the window,
leaned back on my tripod, spat three times, smiled a
few, looked into the misty future, and concluding the
precious skins should be devoted to worthy offices, I
mentally disposed of my hides, about seventy-five in
number, as follows: Three to my bootblack; make a
crupper for Bucephalus out of one; cut a pair of shoe-
strings off another; stop a hole in the window with
one ; trade balance for cake and peanuts.

The reason I received only seventy-five diplomas
rested in the fact that the sheep gave out, but this ca-
tastrophe will be averted in the future, the trustees of
Sheepskin College having purchased two thousand
acres of good pasturage for the raising of sheep. It
is said that the trustees since my day have established
a blue ribbon factory, the number of prizes adorned
with that article beincr now about two thousand and
forty. Besides my sheepskins, I was the recipient of a
few honors in the shape of medals and prizes — about
one hundred and forty-seven, I think. My "In Memo-
riam" secured thirty-nine, an essay on "How to Man-
age Women" nearly as many more, while I won a num-
ber for the best imitation of hiccoue^hs. The medal
which T valued most, however, was that presented to
me by the institution as the best crower in college.

Commencement honors, however, had not been ex-
hausted ofi the students, as there was a reserve fund
of degrees that seemed to be growing larger year by
9

130 Good Gumption

year. Naturally, since it was a religious college, few
honorary titles were conferred except the degree of
D.D., but that was handed out multitudinously.

It will be remembered that the time of which I write
is Commencement. The college grounds are thronged
with smiling youth and decrepit age. Sweet strains of
music fill the air, laughing mirth sits on every lip.
There's beauty in the sunshine, there's beauty in the
trees, beauty in rich wreaths of flowers, beauty in glad
young faces, beauty everywhere. I look pretty well
myself. But stop! the bell rings for the meeting of
the trustees.

Did you ever see a trustee of Sheepskin College?
Well, go to Commencement ; wait till the crowd gath-
ers and the bell rings. See a man with a beaver on,
wearing a long-tail coat that floats in the wind; look
out for a white vest and a pewter-headed walking-
stick. Observe said man, unconscious of all things
here below, rushing toward the chapel as if the day of
judgment had been announced, with his eyes leveled
at the stars — that's a trustee of Sheepskin College.
On this mysterious personage depends the promotion
and degreeing of the preachers who are his satellites.
He can raise them up to honor at will. He has but to
utter the word, and, lo ! the preacher rises from his in-
significance into a full-orbed Doctor of Divinity.

The trustee may be a lunatic or a fool, or he may not
be able to tell the difference between the New Testa-
ment and an almanac, yet with great authority he in-
forms the world which man it shall call Doctor and
which it shall not. Mirabile dictu! To be sure, the
trustees are very popular gentlemen with a large num-

A $75,000 Farce 131

ber of clergymen, their favor being worth more than
rubies and their vote more than tine gold. Ah! how
sweet to the priestly tril)e of Levi to 1)e called of men
"Rabbi. Rabbi."

The trustees at last reach solemn conclave, while be-
fore them lie five hundred and seventeen modest appli-
cations for the doctorate. Some of these api)lications
have been renewed ten times, and now come again,
fortified with new pleas and stronger claims. It is
truly an anxious and interesting season for expectant
clergymen; it is the hour when D.D.'s are born. The
preachers instinctively get nearer the chapel; some
gather in the dormitories, looking out of the windows
on the D.D. factory, all declaring they don't expect,
and don't want the honor.

The college guardians tarry long at the board. Vivt
hundred and sixteen of the applications have passed
smoothly, but the five-hundred-and-seventeenth hangs
fire. He seems to have no gifts and no graces ; he is
a poor speaker, a poor scholar, a poor preacher. Yet
he attends Commencement punctually, and if possi-
ble, something should be done for him. So a commit-
tee of seven of the wisest and most accurate of the
board is appointed to visit the brother, and take a
careful measurement of his abdomen. Tf the measure
reaches the standard, il will be well with the son of
Levi. The revered sages wait on the gentleman whose
glory seems to be swinging in the balance, throw him
down on a student's couch, and tell him to swell up.
He swells up, reaches the required notch, gets his de-
gree, and has been swelling ever since. Tt is rumored
that the trustees have adjourned. The aspiring theo-

132 Good Gumption

logians scramble out of the dormitories and down the
stairways. Snobbs breaks his leg in the rush.

I remember only a few of the distinguished gentle-
men who got their degree when I graduated and the
grounds on which their degree was conferred. The
Rev. January Jones received the double sacred conso-
nant because he was a friend of the college; the Rev.
Shadrach Bones, because it was thought his influence
in behalf of the institution would thus be secured ; the
Rev. Jonas Puzzle, because it w^ould put him on equal-
ity with the other D.D.'s in Sloshville; the Rev. Eben-
ezer Gunn, because it would help him get a call ; the
Rev. Sunflower Smith, because he had wTitten an ele-
gy on a dog; the Rev. Malachi Botts, because he had
just recovered from a severe spell of cramp colic ; the
Rev. Josiah Smash, because his stomach was the right
size; the Rev. Mullikins Bunch, because it would help
him to marry a widow^ ; the Rev. John Bottle, because
he had been on hand fifteen years, and had become so
dilapidated that, unless doctored, he would peg out;
the Rev. Popkins Cabbagehead, because he preached
through his nose an hour and a half without injuring
that organ; the Rev. Agag Cholagogue, because he
made a pun at the college banquet; the Rev. Ipecac
Brown, because his church wanted a change, and
threatened to leave the denomination unless the trus-
tess gave the said Ipecac the wings of divinity with
which to fly to some other field; and the Rev. Wood-
pecker Donquey, because he wept at his mother-in-
law's funeral.

These are all good reasons ; and wisdom is justified
of all her children. The last thing T saw of the new

A $75,000 Farce 133

doctors of divinity, they were posturing on a plot of
sand in the campus, making D's.

'The fuss of Commencement Day had died away,
while the delighted crowds were fast dispersing. So
let me return to the Cyclopses.

Owing: to examinations. I had not seen much of the
president's family of late; still they had fed me on
cream and cake. I learned, however, from the college
"Literary Comet," that the Doctor and his wife were
to accompany their daughter on a protracted bridal
tour through Europe, Palestine, and Egypt, collecting
a costly geological cabinet and many rare specimens of
other 'ologies for the college; and that, provided the
Egyptians were disposed to sell, the Doctor w^ould
bring back one of the smaller of the pyramids.

This statement accounted for the excitement preva-
lent in the president's home. The Cyclopses were evi-
dently enjoying a boom. The Doctor had taken up
again his French studies, and could be seen traversing
the back porch, imagining himself in Paris, conversing
with eminent scientists, or else ordering a hack, or in-
quiring the w^ay to Notre Dame, all in Prench. It also
was possible to catch a glimpse of him familiarizing
himself with an exhaustive guidebook he had just pur-
chased. Mrs. Cyclops usually was bending over a
large atlas of the w^orld, marking out the bridal tour.
Finikie seemed to be engaged in making up finery.

I was packing up my trunk to start homeward next
morning. While matters stood thus, a village lad
walked carelessly into my room, handing me a paper
which T reproduce on the next page.

134 Good Gumption

Mr. H. Beans,

To The Eagle Emporium, Dr.

To I traveling suit for Mrs. Cyclops $ 50 00

13 dresses for Mrs. Cyclops 340 00

3 pr. shoes for Mrs. Cyclops 10 50

2 pr. slippers for Mrs. Cyclops 4 00

7 fans for Mrs. Cyclops i 75

Miscellany 45 00

To trousseau for Miss Cyclops 380 00

To I suit broadcloth for Dr. Cyclops 65 00

3 doz. shirts for Dr. Cyclops 44 00

I beaver for Dr. Cyclops 8 00

Underwear for Dr. Cyclops 20 00

Gold-headed cane ' 5 00

I pr. boots 1 3 00

I opera glass 3 00

I pr. gold-rimmed spectacles 7 00

Total amount $992 25

As our establishment is run on a strictly cash

basis, and as you are a stranger to us, we beg a

prompt settlement of the above account. .

Very respectfully, Eagle Emporium Co.

After my bewilderment had sufficiently subsided,
pointing to the president's house, I told the boy he had
mistaken the place; then, taking out my shabby old
purse, I invited the youth to look within and report to
the Eagle Emporium what he saw.

Next morning, after breakfast, having harnessed
up Bucephalus and strapped my trunk to the buggy,
I set out for Shakerag. As I passed the president's
house, the Doctor, in company with Mrs. Cyclops and
Finikie, sat expectant on the porch, holding a guide-
book in his hand.

''Halloa ! Red," he cried out. I reined up and looked

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136 Good Gumption

back. "By the way, Beans, has the Emporium said
anything to you about that httle bill of ours? I in-
tended mentioning it to you, but forgot it."

"Yes, sir," said I. "I told the boy he was mistaken
in the name, and directed him to you. It's all right.
Doctor."

*'Yes! yes! Well — er — Red, old fellow, could you
make it convenient to settle that little matter? I'm
scarce of funds, you know, and then we'll soon all be
one, anyway, like the disciples, having all things in

common."

"Impossible, Doctor; I never had so much money in
my life. The largest amount I ever had of my own
money was seven dollars and a half, left me by my

grandmother.'

"But the $75,000."

"Sir?" said I.

"Did you not receive a legacy of $75,000 from some

source?'

"Too absurd. Doctor. The papers made some such
ridiculous blunder, but that's all."

"I don't understand, sir. ^^'hat about the marriage
and the bridal tour?" .

"I know nothing of such things more than I saw in
the 'Comet.' I hope you'll have a good time. Doctor."

"Is this afifair all a hoax?" gasped ]\Irs. Cyclops.
"Sir, didn't you court Finikie Cyclops, and represent
yourself as having a fortune?"

"No, madam ; I never did either. I am as poor as a
church-mouse, and never courted but one girl, to whom
I am now engaged. I told Dr. Cyclops plainly that I
was enq-ao-ed. when he visited me."

A $75,000 Farce 137

"Dr. Cyclops," said Mrs. Cyclops, "are you tlic au-
thor of all this folly ? Have you involved us hopeless-
ly in debt? Have you made us a butt of ridicule for
all our friends ? And all over this poor, country boor !"

"Ah! as the poet has well sung, 'I've seen my fond-
est hopes decay,' and my noblest visions fade like the
'tmsubstantial pageant of a dream.' No Europe! no
fossils, no Arabian steeds! Tush, pish-sh!" sighed
the Doctor.

Finikie, overhearing the conversation, fainted,
gasping "$75,000!"

"Poor, piney-woods scrub, and a $75,000 farce!"
exclaimed Mrs. Cyclops.

"And the wasted cake and cream !" said Finikie, as
she revived.

"Fi-diddle!" chimed in the Doctor, in a melancholy
key.

"And that Eagle Emporium bill !" exclaimed Mrs.
Cyclops, sure to have the last word.

I bade the unhappy trio a sad farewell and learned
with sincere regret, from a student who left two days
later, that at the time of his departure a number of
physicians were in consultation at the Cyclopses'. But
I couldn't help it.

I G 0 TO THE WAR

Chapter XII.

It was the memorable year 1861. War and rumors
of war filled the land. Fort Sumter had just been
taken, and cannon were belching out death along the
frontier. Trains daily were transporting soldiers to
the field of action. Gentle hands were wont to wave
snowy handkerchiefs from porch and window at every
brass button that passed. I became exceedingly pa-
triotic all of a sudden, and longed to display on the
field of battle the military genius I felt I possessed. 1
read all the books I could find relating to wars, as-
sassinations, and massacres. In one of my blood-
thirsty inspirations, my fingers itching for the fight,
I climbed upon the smokehouse and shouted defiant-
ly, "Hurrah for liberty!" It would have been a fu-
neral occasion had the enemy come in sight at that
moment. But the scene passed off without bloodshed.

Just fresh from college, I, naturally enough, was un-
skilled in the use of arms and quite lacking in common
sense, so, I made it my first care to practice gunnery.
As a suitable representation of the foe, I rolled out
from the shed a tar barrel, which I set on end, placing
a mammoth pumpkin on it for a head. I thrust a piece
of old lightning rod through the pumpkin to symbolize
a rifle — for, at that stage of mv martial career, I would
(138)

I Go to the War 139

not fight an unarmed foe, and besides, it evinced an in
expensive magnanimity. Then T stood off about twen-
ty-five paces and fired away with an old ante-Revoki-
tionary gun, charged with buckshot.

"I suspect that fellow feels the medicinal properties
•of shot," said I, with great satisfaction as I saw the
smoke clear away. On examination, however, I found
my enemy unhurt, while over the hill T espied old
Guinea John, my father's blacksmith, capering in a
most interesting manner, and rul)l)ing his legs with
unwonted zeal, as if to indicate that I could do better
at long taw than short. So I loaded up again to try
my luck. Bang! went my gun, but there still was no
indication of good shooting save the squealing of a
pig that happened to be crossing the lot.

As long, however, as I was in the midst of such en-
couraging evidences of the vitality of my shot, I kept
good heart, resolving to try my skill one more time.
Having put a handful of shot in my trusty gun, T crept
up within ten paces of my man, shouting, "Surren-
der!" but the lightning rod not being lowered with
satisfactory promptitude, I fired point-blank at the
stubborn foe. I bagged the game that time ; one shot
grazed the pumpkin, while three entered the barrel,
giving vent to oozing tar. "I've brought the blood at
last!" T cried exultingly; and, grasping the rusty old
saber my father had used in the Mexican War, I sav-
agely thrust the pumi)kin through, determining to take
no prisoners.

My next preparation for war was to rig myself up
in brass buttons, put on a military cap, mount Bu-
cephalus, and give a war-whoop. All of these things

140 Good Gumption

I did after the manner of a true soldier, and then
I started off for "the front" and glory. Coon Hollow
was in the line of my journey to the Virginia army
(and, by the way, I can't conceive of any journey in
which Coon Hollow would not have been in my line)
and Polytechnic, as fortune would have it, met me at.
the gate with smiles and roses.

"To-day, dear girl, I draw my sword for my coun-
try and thee," said I, brandishing my old saber in the
sultry air, and cutting up a maypop vine by the roots.

"Oh! Red, it breaks my heart to think of your
going to this cruel, cruel war."

"It's my country's call, sweet cherub," said I, with
stoic firmness. "I haste me to battle that I may divide
the spoil with the victors. I only fear the war will end
before I get a chance to bathe my blade in blood."

Just here, old Guinea John drove by in a cart laden
with a coffin and two big trunks. The latter only hav-
ing caught Polytechnic's eye, the innocent creature,
looking trustfully into my visual organs, asked, "Why
do you carry so many clothes? Are you to be gone
from me so long?"

" 'Wherefore those trunks,' do you ask ? Why,
my shroud and burial wreaths are in one, and Pm tak-
ing the other to bring back scalps in. Good-by, my
love," said I, raising my foot in the stirrup.

"Oh ! do stay to tea !" pleaded the fair maid.

"No!" said I sternly; "every moment is golden. Pm
afraid P'll not be therein time for the first battle."

"Ah ! I know you'll be killed. You are so brave that
you will rush into the thickest of the fight, and perish
at the cannon's mouth."

I Go to the War 141

"I'll return willi my sword or on it," rejoined 1,
shaking my spurs significantly.

This frightened the dear girl, who, with tears glis-
tening in her hright hlue eyes, unmindful of the differ-
ing conditions, repeated Andromache's touching ap-
peal to Hector :

" 'Too l)ravc ! thy valor yet will cause thy death :
Thou hast no pity on thy tender child,
Nor me, imhappy one, who soon must be
Thy widow. All the Greeks will rush on thee
To take thy life. A happier lot were mine,
If I must lose thee, to go down to earth.
For I shall have no hope when thou art gone —
Nothing but sorrow. Father I have none.
And no dear mother. Great Achilles slew
My father when he sacked the populous town
Of the Cilicians — Thebe with high gates.

Hector, thou
Art father and dear mother now to me.
And brother and my youthful spouse besides.
In pity keep within the fortress here,
Nor make thy child an orphan nor thy wife
A widow.' "

Fortunately, I remembered a few lines of Hector's
reply, which T had been required to memorize at school
as a penalty for missing a geography lesson :

" 'All this
I bear in mind, dear wife; but I should stand
Ashamed before the men and long-robed dames
Of Troy, were I to keep aloof and shun
The conflict, cowardlike.' "

"IMy Reddie, should the sad news that you are
wounded or dead reach me, tell me where I may find
you," said she, putting her little hand in mine.

142 Good Gumption

"Beneath cannon balls and the corpses of heroes,"
returned I, in martial accents.

"Oh! my soldier boy," said the sympathetic crea-
ture; "if you only had a horse instead of a mule!"

"Yes, I might gobble up more of the enemy as they

fly-"

"And then, in case of defeat, you might stand a bet-
ter chance of escape."

"Defeat — escape?" repeated I, disdainfully. "Child,
do you know the history of my ancestors ? My grand-
father fought in the Revolution, my father in the Mex-
ican War, while my grandmother whipped both of
them. Fighting stock, you see, all around. Besides,
in the first encounter — there'll hardly be more than
one if I get there in time — I'll capture a fiery charger,
and make a martin-box of his rider."

Clad in my fighting clothes, my spurs ringing like
distant Alpine bells, I left the beautiful girl, subdued
by tears and rapt in admiration, as I mounted Bu-
cephalus and drew my saber, shouting,

"On! ye brave.
Who rush to glory, or the grave!"

After a journey of two days and a half, I reached a
small inland town, which seemed to be all astir about
something. Crowds of people had gathered from the
surrounding country to witness the glory of some
great occasion. Houses were decorated with minia-
ture fiags, cannon made of flowers, and small, crossed,
tin swords, while from the courthouse floated the Stars
and Bars in undiluted pugnacity. I happened to learn,
from the conversation of a couple of old rustics who

I Go to the War 143

sauntered on before nie, that Jefferson Davis was ex-
pected momentaril) lo i)ass through the town, and
that this tremendous flutter was designed as an ova-
tion in his honor.

As I drew up near the courthouse square, ni)- mule
dishonored the occasion by voicing his emotion in a
terrific bray. Tliis, forsooth, attracted the attention of
the multitude, who, looking upon ni\- briglu uniform
and untarnished buttons, mistook me for the Presi-
dent, and shouted. "Hurrah for Jeff" Davis!" Mr.
Davis being unknown in those parts, and, like all noted
persons, supposed to be fine-looking and to possess
unusual dignity, the mistake thus was easily made.
The town band instantly struck up "Dixie," two old
anvils placed one on the other, with a little powder
between, somewhat comically performed the function
of a cannon, and the crowd broke forth into "three
cheers for Jeff" Davis."

In the feverish excitement that ensued the towns-
people gave me no opportunity to explain or to deny,
but escorted me in great state and with august cere-
monies to a banquet prepared expressly for the South-
ern chief magistrate. When T entered the townhall.
about three hundred girls, with banners streaming
from staves, filed before me, each depositing a kiss for
the "father of his country." T sat down at a special
table, and was waited on by the fairest of ministering
spirits, while bands played and anvils roared.- After
I had eaten as much as I thought a great man ought to
eat, I arose, and calling up the girls in line again, gave
them a paternal kiss. An old gentleman, holding a
flagon in his hand, stepped up to me affectionately,

144 Good Gumption

saying, "Here's a bit of old wine I've been saving some
forty years ; you can do no greater honor than to test
its merits." I decHned the sparkHng fluid on the
ground of temperance principles, and was about to ex-
press suitable thanks, when a noble old lady, catching
me by the elbow, led me to a fine ice cream freezer,
whose unadulterated contents I carefully began to re-
move.

Again the girls formed in line and were surging
toward me for another kiss, but pointing to the freezer,
I asked to be excused. Every five minutes they formed
and renewed their march, seeking to express their pa-
triotism in cheap kisses. Being wearied with lip serv-
ice, I engaged an old codger to take a stand in the
great hall and to accommodate the afifectionate pa-
triots in my stead. He planted a Confederate flag in
his wide-brimmed hat, hung a brass button around
his neck, claimed to be one of my cabinet officers, and
then —

Maidens to right of him,
Maidens to left of him,
Maidens in front of him

Frolicked and kissed him ;
Rushed on with whoop and yell,
ip On they surged pelly-mell.
Into the jaws of man —
The mouth of the old "fel. ;"

Never one missed him.

While these interesting performances were in prog-
ress, tenderest hands were ramming oranges and ap-
ples into my pockets, and eager eyes showered upon
me their softest benedictions. Suddenly an eccentric

I Go to the War 145

old gentleman came near spoiling everything by call-
ing upon me for a speech. What in the world could I
say on such an occasion? \\ hat were the great issues
of the day? What were we going to fight about?
What principles were involved, and who involved 'em ?

I still had no idea that I was posing as Jeff Davis;
and yet, I marveled why everybody was so wondrous
kind. T thought to evade the difficulty by cultivating
my freezer more assiduously, but alas! I had struck
bottom — and all hands were crying wildly, "Speech!
speech !" I wanted to call up the girls again for re-
lief— and by this let all men know the awful strait to
which I was reduced — l)Ut they had become scattered
in the crowd, and I am sure they would have been
greatly disappointed had they known the opportunit)-
they missed. But they would be ready for the next
man. So nothing was left me but to speak.

"Fellow-countrymen," said I, like a modern Demos-
thenes, "the times are rife with smoke and battle ; your
liberties are threatened, your homes endangered, and
your — " here a plank tilted up, throwing me on top of
a bunch of men. while the multitude frantically rushed
around me, cheering at every breath, supposing me to
be too much overcome with patriotism to be able to
continue. Getting, however, a foothold on the shoul-
ders of an athletic citizen, I concluded,

"Strike — till the last armed foe expires :
Strike — for potatoes, peanuts, briers :
Strike — for the collards of your sires ;
Niggers — and cotton lands !"

And T struck — for the next town — leaving the frag-
ments for Mr. Davis, who arrived an hour later.

lO

146 Good Gumption

I reached the plain of Manassas, breathing out
slaughter and destruction, just as Johnston and Beau-
regard were posting the Confederate forces for bat-
tle. In front, the enemy's massive blue columns came
moving on to the sound of the drum. The two armies
confronted each other for a brief period in silence.
While the silence lasted I got along pretty well, but
when in the distance I heard the hoarse voice of artil-
lery, and nearer, the sharp crack of musketry, while
all along the line minie balls began to whistle and shells
began to burst, I felt dismal. As men were falling
around me on every side, and as I strove to muster the
inherited valor of my ancestry by repeating the Latin
motto

Diilce et decorum est pro pafria mori,

suddenly a cannon ball beheaded a huge pine tree
hard by, causing me to realize the difference between
a man and a tar barrel, a rifle and a lightning rod.
Immediately inverting the order of Bucephalus's ex-
tremities, putting his tail where his head had been, I
fired both barrels of my trusty weapon toward the
blue dome of heaven, and with drawn saber, was on
the point of charging the equator, when Bucephalus
took a strange notion to stay where he was, and com-
menced backing — that's the way a mule indicates his
preference for staying where he is — but to back in his
position was to charge the enemy! The effect was
magical on the Southern cavalry. AMiole squadrons
darted forward, with Bucephalus still backing in the
lead, while the enemy, alarmed by this novel method of
warfare, fled precipitately toward the District of Co-
lumbia.

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148 Good Gumption

Thus was Bucephalus the determining factor at
Bull Run. When my trusty mule found out that the
enemy was fleeing, having turned around his head
far enough to see what was going on, he turned the
remainder of his anatomy and assisted in the pursuit.
He would have been running yet, I suppose, if it had
not been for the fact that we both got hungry and
stopped for supper at a splendidly-equipped commis-
sariat wagon left by the enemy in his precipitate flight.
Having indulged our appetites we stretched out under
the stars for a quiet snooze and did not awake until
the sun was high in the heavens the next day.

Then we meandered gracefully back to camp and
most unexpectedly found that we were the heroes of
the hour and the battle. General Beauregard knew
it and so did the entire army, for that matter. The
enemy likewise was aware of the fact, and General
Winfield Scott so felt the force of the presence of He-
redity Beans and his gallant mule that he resigned his
commission, declaring that he could not fight against
an inverted jackass and an insane one mounted upon
him.

You, dear reader, can imagine, if you exercise your
brain overtime, the exceeding joy with which I indited
letters to the folks at home telling them of the exploits
of master and mule. My father, of course, declared
that his doctrine of hereditation was working out most
clearly in me his only son. He predicted that soon I
would become the commander-in-chief of the Confed-
erate forces and that soon after that I would sweep
the enemy up into Canada. But the best of all was
what my darling Polytechnic said about my adven-

I Go to the War 149

ture. I was her licro and her king. I was also the
recipient of a fine pair of socks knitted by her fair
fingers — and 1 needed them more than I did her kind
words.

For my gallantry at Manassas T was promoted to
the captaincy of a squad of foragers, and during the
remainder of the war spent my time about equally in
chasing the enemy and being chased by him. But when
the end came, I surrendered perpetually. T took up an
old United States fiag, waved it over the flop-eared
head of Bucephalus, and with hearty good will shouted
"God bless the old flag! God save the Union !"

The war over, T made my way to Shakerag, where
T tied my mule to a stack of fodder, and began to ex-
ercise the arts of peace.

STARTING IN LIFE

Chapter XIII.

All too soon the necessity of addressing myself to
some remunerative work forced itself upon me. The
necessity was clear enough, but what should the work
be? What should I do for a living? This was the
momentous question that met me at the portals of
ripening manhood. The world around me was rush-
ing madly after gain, and I joined the multitude.
"Make money" became my motto, and seemed em-
broidered in my visions in threads of gold. With
what mystic wand should I smite the tree of luck and
shake therefrom the coin in golden showers? What
profession should I adopt as the one in which to shine
all my life ? What pursuit of the many should I join
in the race for fame and fortune and high station ?

I first thought I would be a lawyer. I was tolerably
sure I had some turn for public speaking, and there is
always room in the upper story of the legal profession
for first-class talent. Of course, that was the sort I
had. What fortunes are sometimes made by a single
speech ! What great names adorn the records of the
Bar ! Still, there arose in my mind several serious ob-
jections. The law is the only profession in which value
is attached to a lie. In the legal profession a lie ordi-
(^50)

iiiiiiiiiiii'^'y-^jafe;:?^ ■ ■i:~..-.v^' .!■!

'what should I DO FOR A LIVING?'

(151)

152 Good Gumption

narily is worth from $5 to $25,000; now and then,
when a fortune is involved, a He, well put together,
neatly dovetailed, double veneered, highly polished, of
double back action, warranted to stand in any climate,
and neither to spring nor to crack, will bring $50,000.
But, being distantly related to the man who cut the
cherry tree, and thinking I might some day want to go
to heaven, I abandoned the idea of becoming a lawyer.
Somehow or other I cannot imagine a lawyer getting
into the New Jerusalem.

Next I wooed the Muse. Under a happy inspira-
tion, I discovered that I was possessed of the gift of
poesy in a large degree. Yes, I was born a poet, not
made; and whole firkins of the crude stuff had been
leaking out of me in beatific visions, beautiful dreams,
and unrecorded thoughts that stood out as mental
rainbows on the dark cloud of life. The magazines
were waiting for the coming poet? He had come.
Homer, \^irgil, Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, Beans!
I resolved to stun the reading world with a drama in
verse. I'd tell a pathetic story of a clergyman who,
on his first visit to the coast, foolishly ventured into
the surf. This would make a tragedy to touch all
hearts, even those of magazine editors, which I reck-
oned to be hardest of all.

I conceived the plot in the moonlight, and composed
as the sun was bathing the eastern hills in golden
splendor. That is, I composed one verse a day that
way. True verse does not rush, even from the mas-
ters, in cataracts, but flows like limpid brooks. Here
is the poem, which I called "A Divine Comedy," al-
though T neither thought to make a pun out of the title

Starting in Life 153

nor to imitate the titular style of my fellow-poet,
Dante, and his Dixina Comedia :

In August, eighteen sixty-four
A parson went to see the shore ;
He saw the shore, he saw the sea.
And danced and laughed quite merrily.

His form was lithe, his eye was bright,
His brain was clear, his step was light :
He plunged into the briny deep —
And glad his shout, and high his leap.

The waves were rough, the tide was high;
The undertow came sweeping by :
The pulpit star at once did shout
To all around to help him out.

His eyes the while did larger grow,
His breast did heave, his cheeks did glow:
He plunged and leaped, and seemed to be
Preparing for eternity.

At length this son of thunder cried :
"A shark ! a shark is at my side !"
His soul took fright, his body rolled —
Yet nothing save a crab had hold.

At last the parson came ashore,
And brine did ooze from every pore ;
He clapped his hands in glad refrain :
"Nor moons like these shall shine again !"

This is the man I seek to praise.

These are his sorrows and his ways —

A man of noble mien and mood.

Who reached the shore and then boohooed.

T mailed my poem to a leading magazine, and smiled
after I went to sleep. I'll wake up in ten days and find
myself famous, T thought : if not, let me die the death

154 Good Gumption

of the disappointed. A hundred thousand readers
would suddenly open their eyes to behold a new comet.
Who's Heredity Beans? would ask men rushing to
business, women in their parlors, children at play.
My fortune I considered made ; all respectable editors
now would tap at my door with golden knuckles. My
facile pen henceforth would know no respite. Next I
would write a book of poems; then I would build a
castle on the Mississippi !

In order that the reader may know how it all came
out, I give herewith the literature connected with the
publication of this poem. I cannot comment on it
now, for my feelings are very deep even to this day.

Editor of "The Sun Burst."

My dear Sir: I send you by this mail my new drama
in verse, entitled "A Divine Comedy." I imagine
price will be no item with you. No doubt you will
not care to let any other species of verse appear in
the same number. I can't promise to fly so high
every time, and I will not engage to furnish a poem
for every issue. Give the minor poets a chance ;
don't let me monopolize the magazine.

Check on New York, please.
Yours, in ars poetica, H. Beans.

Mr. H. Beans.

Dear Sir: Your poem received ; it has merit, but we
have engaged all the poetry we shall need for the
rest of our earthly career. We return the MS.
with thanks.

With esteem, H. I. Larity,

Editor of "The Sun Burst."

Editor of "The Weekly Comet."

My dear Sir: I herewith inclose you a dramatic
poem that will startle the literary world. It is rich

Starting in Lite 155

in imagery, elegant in diction, original in conception,
and — invahiable in money. I am not afraid to let you
put your own price on it, since I know your high
appreciation of the poetic art. I cannot engage to
furnish another poem under a week. If }our cir-
culation jumps up a few thousands, you will know
why. Please make remittance by check or regis-
tered letter.

Yours in the bonds of poesy, H. Beans.

Mr. H. Beans.

Dear Sir: Your verses received. They have a vein
of genuine humor ; but my columns are overcrowded,
and hence I cannot use them. There is a rare treat
for some periodical that is not so unfortunately handi-
capped. The poem is simply invaluable, and I'm
sure my life will be shortened at least a year because
I cannot adorn my pages with it. I would like to see
it in print. The MS. is herewith returned.

Affectionately yours, I. R. Onical,

Editor of "The Weekly Comet."

Editor of "The Magna Charta."

My dear Sir: Inclosed please find a little poem,
which I shall not attempt to describe. Though a
stranger, I am sure you will hereafter take me into
your most intimate friendship forever. The poem
is so inwrought with pathos, that I shall associate
no money value therewith, but present it to your
readers as an offering of love.

Yours, with a poet's devotion, H. Beans.

Mr. H. Bean.s.

Dear Sir: Your comedy received. Sorry we can-
not avail ourselves of it. Please find MS. inclosed.

Truly yours, John Shorthorse,

Editor of "Magna Charta."

"The American Jester."

I send you a copy of my poem, hoping you may

156 Good Gumption

find a place therefor in your columns. No charge.
Yours truly, H. Beans.

Mr. H. Beans.

Sir: We shall be delighted to insert your poem

in our next issue. It will cost }Ou $2.50 in advance.

If this is not satisfactory, please forward stamp for

return of M.S.

Yours, etc.,

J. O. Kerr, "American Jester."

If this correspondence does not indicate heathen-
ism, I don't know what heathenism is. Such igno-
rance ! such indifference to art ! such lunacy ! While
my masterpiece of poesy was being assaulted by these
anarchists of journalism, and the money I had earned
by overwrought brains was being denied me, I was
arrested for taxes. My poetic functions ceased.

Of course, medicine suggested itself next. What a
grand study — man ! T got my mother's old medical
book from the shelf and began my studies. I bought
a secondhand male skeleton from the family physi-
cian, and borrowed a book on physiology'. My atten-
tion was directed first to the skeleton's teeth. I exam-
ined critically the molars, bicuspids, and others that re-
mained in the mouth, and approximated his age at
ninety-seven years. I next measured him and com-
puted his height as six feet seven inches. I became
intensely interested. I next weighed the bones, and
decided that the man in full flesh nutst have weighed
four hundred and eighty pounds. I examined the ac-
tion of the right arm, and discovered it was susceptible
of a graceful, rotary motion, such as is employed by a
minister in turning his manuscript or making a ges-

Starting in Life 157

ture. His knees indicated prayer — why, of course —
he was a preacher. I then looked through the eye-
sockets, and. beholding the immense cavities on either
side of the head, set him down for an illustrious
bishop.

Having become quite familiar with the bones of my
distinguished subject, I pored o\'er physiology, study-
ing bones, muscles, tissues, nerves, blood vessels, cap-
illary tubes, chyle, and a thousand other things I hope
never to hear of again, until my first course was ended.
My second course of study was in the drugs and ma-
terials of which medicine is made. A gilded dawn
rose on me now. T moved among elixirs, fluid com-
pounds, powders, pills, and plasters. T calculated how
many varieties of pills could be prepared from the
many elements, and found their name — and their num-
ber too — was legion, ^^'hat an infinite number of liver
regulators might be compounded ! How vast a field
for speculation and ingenuity! Bitters ad infinituni:
liver pads ad absiirdiiin. Endless cough drops and
baby syrups. Joyful prospect for an inventive turn
of mind.

I told some of my friends that I was studying medi-
cine and was requested to inform them the name of the
college wherein I was prosecuting my labors. This
set me to thinking, for the only college in which I was
enrolled was that at the head of which was Professor
Heredity Beans. Should I go to one of the medical
institutions doing btisiness in various sections of the
country or should T continue my studies at home in
Shakerag ?

After all. what was the use of spending a lot of

158 Good Gumption

money and where was I to get it to spend? Why
couldn't I do as well in my attic with mother's old
doctor book until I had become the compounder and
proprietor of a first-class patent medicine? After that,
when I had made enough money to maintain myself I
would be able to choose the best medical college in the
country as my mine of information and then after
graduation open up a college for the instruction of
other followers of the healing art.

The patent medicine idea struck me as being a par-
ticularly good one. Think of the many thousands and
thousands of suffering persons I would be able to cure,
relieve, and benefit! Of course, some of the people
who might take my medicine for cancer, or consump-
tion, or insanity might die, but then, I figured out,
they would die anyway, and really my remedy might
do them some little good and keep them alive a little
while longer. And even at that, it would not be can-
cer, consumption, or insanity that I would seek to cure,
and so if they took the medicine that I patented it was
their own fault, and I couldn't be blamed.

Three weeks having elapsed since I entered upon
my medical studies, I felt confident I was prepared for
the active duties of my profession. The first step was
to compound a patent medicine. Early one morning
I found myself surrounded by bottles of different sizes,
with twenty-five cents' worth of drugs in my pocket.
By nightfall and with the consistent use of my drugs
and plenty of good pump water my bottles were full
and I was ready to do some advertising. Cogitation
resulted in an announcement to the public which I re-
produce on the following page :

Why Don't You Use

BEANS' BIPED BITTERS

This Medicine is Nature's Remedy, and the Grcaest Discovery of Modern

Stuencc, It h«s never failed to cure every disease to which the

flesh is heir. It is perfectly harmless, and warranted to

give immediate and permanent relief in all dis-*

orders arising from derangements of

the liver, blood, kidneys, etc.

DIRECTIONS FOR USE

For Headache, look at the bottle with one eye.
For Neuralgia, look at it with the other eye.
For Rheuniatism, jump over it.
For Cramp Colic, swallow it.
For Dyspepsia, soak the dyspepsia in It.
For Cold, boil the cold in it.
For Chills, gently remove the stopper.
For Blues, give a dose to your mother-in-law.
For Hums, hang it up the chimney.
For Toothache, smell it.

For all other ailments, take a tablespoonful every
seven minutes while sleeping.

$5,000 Reward for a Well-Authenticated Case

OF Failure

LNDORSED BY THE CLERGY EVERYWHERE

PRICE ! Half^pint bottle, 25 cents? pint bottle, 50

cents; quart, $1,

UNSOLICITED TESTIMONIALS

"Splendi!" — W. Shakesf'farf, "Supcrl'!" — C/iris/of/n-r Co/iimluis. "I indorse
the above." — ( !■ opalra. " So do I." — i\ ebuciiadiiezzar. " Ditto.' — Jupiter Olyintus.
"It sure does more tli.in it claims."— ^fa« Jj'Aic. "The wondtr of the age." —
J\ohiiisoii Crusoe. " The jflory of the world."— ^/hZ/V^t C(e-nr, "Wouldn't be \- ilh-
out it fo' $:;o." — ^f. T. Ctci-ro. " Wouldn't have committed suicide if I had had it."
— Hannibal. " I died at St. Helena because I couldn't get it." — .V. Bonaparte,

INDORSED BY LEADING DRUGGISTS THROUGHOUT

THE UNION, AMONG WHOM APE THE FOLx

LOWING WELL-KNOWN FIRMS

Beaumont & Fletcher; Castor & Pollux; Scylla & Charybdis;

Esau tV Jacob; Shadrach, Meshach & Co.; Arcturus i^ Sons;

Damon I'v: Pythias Co., Incorporated; and John Bull i*C Bros.

160 Good Gumption

This advertisement, inserted in half a dozen leading
papers, brought me a cart-load of orders the first seven
days. My very success, however, disheartened me.
I was ashamed of being a member of the human race,
for it became quite clear to me that the world is a vast
fool asylum, kept by a few sane individuals here and
there. As ^the orders were C. O. D., no money was
lost by the senders, and no medicine sent by the pro-
prietor. I quit doctoring, resolving forever to lead
"the simple life."

The most ample field that now opened up to me was
that of invention. What fortunes had been made by a
trick of the imagination! What millions in money
had rolled out of a first-class lucky thought ! So I be-
gan the arduous career of an inventor.

It was twelve o'clock at night when, by the light of
a tallow candle, I put the finishing touch to my Re-
volving Corkscrew. Next morning at peep of day I
stealthily boxed up the model and drawings, and sent
them by express to Ima Lummox, patent attorney, in
Washington, to ascertain whether the invention could
be patented, although it was unnecessary to put such
an interrogation, since, as I learned subsequently, no
invention, no matter what its aim or value, ever has
failed to be patented. Sometimes it is true, there are
a great many reserves, qualifications, and limitations,
but sooner or later, the United States Government
grants ''valuable letters patent." The attorney, there-
fore, returned answer that in his opinion the invention
was patentable, and for the consideration of $15 as a
preliminary payment he would open the case.

Two months of anxious and sleepless nights passed

Starting in Life 161

away before my agent in Washington informed me
that the patent had been granted, and that it would be
highly appropriate to forward to his address the bal-
ance of the fees for himself and the Government. In
a few days came my Letters Patent, adorned with
much blue ribbon and bearing the authoritative seal
of the United States of America, containing this au-
gust passage: "Now therefore these Letters Patent
are to grant unto the said Heredity Beans, his heirs,
or assigns, for a term of seventeen years, the exclu-
sive right to make, use, and vend the said invention
throughout the United States and Territories thereof."

This w^as almost too much for my system, already
impaired by the excessive mental labor expended in
the process of invention, and still further weakened
by the excitement occasioned by so vast an enterprise.
Think of it, I thought. This great repul^lic confers
upon me privileges it confers upon no other man. I
am the only man in the universe that can make or sell,
in these United States, revolving corkscrews for the
space of seventeen years. Fifty millions of people are
forbidden by law to infringe my rights, and the army
and navy of the United States are ready to defend my
invention. It is in my power to arraign any member
of Congress, to sue Vanderbilt, or to indict the Presi-
dent himself for invading my prerogatives. States
and territories to the extent of four million square
miles subject to my control — from the St. Lawrence
to the Rio Grande !

Of course, these telling facts made due impression

on the people of Toadville, who considered my fortune

made, and regarded me as a genius of the first order,
II

162 Good Gumption

being the only man who ever had obtained a patent in
that vicinity. I became at once a personage of great
prominence. I received invitations to all the barbe-
cues that took place in the community, was called on
to make speeches at all public gatherings, and on St.
Valentine's Day I was honored with a sweet verse or
a bouquet from every girl in Toadville. Three widows
sent me a lock of their hair. When I rode into town, a
dozen boys vied with each other in being first to tie
Bucephalus, while strong men held their brawny hands
to catch my feet as I dropped from my saddle; and
when I went to church, sweet singers urged me into
the choir, as mothers in Israel piled up hymnals
around me, causing me to rejoice in the luxury of
greatness.

Meantime matters were not dull at Shakerag. My
father's cup was running over, and occasionally his
ecstasy attained such heights that he proclaimed my
invention one of the signs prophecy had set apart as a
forerunner of the Millennium. He had used up a
gross of pencils calculating the financial value of my
venture, and, after he had arrived at a conclusion, he
declared that the figures were too moderate. Father
said he had always seen something of the sort in me,
and was expecting just such a result. I was a chip off
the old block, he asserted, and inherited my inventive
talent from him, since he himself once had invented a
reversible toothpick, though he never had applied for
a patent. Thenceforth he sought to show his appre-
ciation of my genius, and to reward my toil, by mak-
ing me sit at the foot of the table and appropriate the
gizzard. I found him one sultry evening, with his

Startinir in Lite 163

coat off, silling- on ihc rool of a tree, figuring- ve-
hemently and talking- to himself with great anima-
tion.

"Red, old boy," he said, his eyes sparkling, "how do
these figures sound to people that have been living on
collards and buttermilk all their days? See here.
There are fifty millions of people in the United States ;
(luring the seventeen years of your patent right they
will buy, on an average, one each ; that will bring, at
$1.50 per screw, $75,000,000. Then Congress, during
that period, will need a million more, say $1,500,000.
Canada, Mexico, Central America, and South Ameri-
ca will take about ten million screws, say $15,000,000;
Europe, Asia, and Africa will have to be supplied from
the United States with some eighty million (for every
wine-bibber and beer-drinker in Europe will want a
couple), say, $120,000,000.

"Now, Red, old boy, you see, at these moderate fig-
ures, it runs up to over $2 1 1 ,000,000, leaving out Aus-
tralia and all the islands of the sea. Why, boy; you
can put it down at the very lowest at $250,000,000 —
moderate at that, my son, very moderate — some people
would write down a billion at once. Your old dad has
dug his last potato, made his last corn-hill, and cut his
last log of wood ; and the old woman will never patch
another calico this side of the moon. Silks! stove-
pipes ! canes ! double-case gold Elgins ! coach and four !
mansards and broadcloth !"

Promising the old gentleman $40,000,000, I set
about to sell the right to make the Beans Revolving
Corkscrew. Agents in Cincinnati, St. Louis, Chicago,
New York, Philadelphia, and in fact in almost every

164 Good Gumption

large city in the United States, offered their services
toward eft'ecting a sale of my article. They all claimed
to know all about patent matters, and each swore all
the rest were rascals — which I found afterwards to be
quite true. Yet I ventured to forward $25 to the Great
Western Patent Syndicate (skindicate would be more
truthful), located in Cincinnati, as a sort of feeler —
and as I never heard again from said $25, I have been
feeling ever since that the villians ought to be made
to drink hemp tea awhile. I next inserted a cut and
advertisement of my corkscrew in a paper devoted to
mechanics, and said to circulate among thirty-five
thousand people. A copy of the periodical, with the
advertisement marked, came in the mail one morning,
filling me with supreme delight ; for I felt satisfied that
the invention had but to be known to meet with a
prompt and splendid sale.

Next morning, before daylight, I was in Toad-
ville awaiting the arrival of the mail, and when the
letters were ready for delivery, I walked into the
post office with much dignity and asked for my mail,
expecting a peck of bids for my revolving cork-
screw.

"Heredity Beans," repeated the postmaster ; ''noth-
ing for Mr. Beans."

Ah! thought I, it takes time to sell great inventions.
Just let a week pass, and you'll see capitalists talking
millions ! And a week passed by, just as it always will
if you give it time, and again I put in my appearance
at Toadville to hear from parties desirous of buying
the rights to deal in my corkscrew in the States and
Territories. This time T was accompanied by father,

Starting in Life 165

who thought it necessary to bring a large meal-sack
to hold the letters.

Again the postmaster solemnly averred there were
"no letters for Beans." Father sighed and turned
pale, while I myself felt a little melancholy. But, said
I, inaudibly, this corkscrew business is a big thing.
Minnows can't tackle such bait; we must wait for
whales. So I waited languidly two weeks longer, when
the postmaster cried out laconically, "Letter for
Beans." Dear man, I wanted to hug him. Father
clapped his hands and seized the letter, which he in-
sisted on carrying himself, while neither of us was
willing to open the communication of millions until
^ve reached the sacred precincts of Shakerag.

"Old boy," said father, "if this fellow offers $20,-
000,000 for a State, we'll just double on him ; for he's
not going to offer a third of what he thinks it's worth.
He's l)ound to have it. Why, even little Rhode Island
would be dirt cheap at $35,000,000."

We opened the letter, reading as follows :

Mr. II. Beans, Inventor.

Dear Sir: I will pay a dollar and a half for the right
to sell your Revolving Screw in Phinx County, this
State, if you will furnish the manufactured article at
five cents each, express prepaid.

Respectfully, Washington Seed.

"That's but a dodge," said I, to father. "This fel-
low Seed is some man of giant fortune trying to draw
me out. He sees a billion or two in the thing, and is
endeavoring not to commit himself."

Father said nothing, but for some cause went with-

166 Good Gumption

out dinner that day, while I answered Washington as
follows :

Mr. W. Seed.

My dear Sir: I am glad you appreciate the merits
of my corkscrew and desire to become rich and fa-
mous by connection with it, I do not sell county
rights, because they would not bring more than $20,-
000, and I do not care to handle such small amounts.
As your State is small, I'll knock it off to you at four
million. Write by return mail, or this golden oppor-
tunity may be lost forever, since I may have a dozen
applications before to-morrow night.

Truly yours, H. Beans.

Weeks and months fled by, yet no letter came from
Seed. Poor deluded noodle! I wrote inquiring for
the cause of such stolid indifference to his own best
interests, but Seed was blind to the allurements of for-
tune. T told him that, in order to get the invention
started, I'd sell his State rights for $100,000; but the
fellow was insensible still. Then I made the amazing
offer to sell the whole United States right for $100,-
000. Still no reply. At last I invited him to suggest
what he would give for the entire right or any part
thereof, and the ungracious clodhopper wrote back
that there was no demand for a new corkscrew. So,
after weary waiting and watching and trusting for
two years, I committed my model to the flames, and
now I never permit the word "corkscrew" to be ut-
tered in my presence. Father's health began to fail
after the reception of Seed's letter, and "things are not
what they seem" — especially patents.

Yes, dear reader, your friend Heredity Beans is of

Starting in Life 167

the opinion that patents are a snare and a delusion.
There never yet was a patent over which somebody
didn't get swindled, somehow or other, and the only
person that doesn't lose any money over them is the
patent attorney. If the man who invents the inven-
tion doesn't have it stolen from him before he gets it
patented the attorney robs him while he is getting it
through the Patent Office. The inventor then pro-
ceeds to get square by robbing the public by making
it pay for the patented article about ten times what it
is actually worth.

The whole business is a gigantic swindle from start
to finish, and the surest way for the ordinary mortal
to go "plumb crazy" or "plumb broke" is to get a pa-
tent. The advice of Heredity Beans to all patent seek-
ers is to burn either the model of the patent or the
money the lawyer wants for getting it. Personally, I
prefer the first method for the matter then is finally
and thoroughly settled. Still, the latter way has its
charms for those who want to live up to the axiom that
a fool and his cash are soon parted. Besides, it's spec-
tacular.

BLINDFOLDED JUSTICE

Chapter XIV.

On a commanding pinnacle of the courthouse at
Toadville stood a sufficiently accurate reproduction of
the celebrated statue of Justice, in which the goddess
is seen standing blindfolded, holding a pair of scales
in one hand and a naked sword in the other. To a few
eccentric people it may seem more appropriate for
Justice, above all the gods, to have her eyes wide open,
and see what's going on in this crooked world of ours ;
but more discerning persons readily perceive the apt-
ness of the statue as it now stands, when they remem-
ber that the legal fraternity acts so largely upon the
principle of going it blind

Still, it was of little consequence to Turnipins wheth-
er Justice could see or not. His own vision was in-
tact, which fact he successfully demonstrated by pur-
loining a goose on one of the darkest nights that ever
swaddled Toadville. Of course, suspicion fell upon
him, for like his renowned ancestor, Barabbas, he was
known to be a thief and a robber ; and he was arrested
in consequence of the appropriated bird having been
found in his possession.

The case came up one Tuesday of court week, la-
beled, "The State vs. Turnipins." It seemed to me,
unused as I was to the idiosvncrasies of impartial, un-
(i68)

Blindfolded Justice 169

adulterated, simon-pure, blindfolded Justice, that the
contest was quite an unequal one, since the State with
all her resources was one party, and a hump-backed
rogue the other. But the delusion was dispelled when
I saw the representative of Its Majesty the Common-
wealth, in the person of a third-rate advocate, who
had the apperance of a dandy rather than that of a
gentleman of legal acumen. He seemed to have made
a bandbox his boarding house, a moistened brush his
chief industrial implement, while his necktie and mus-
tache were his most honored tutelary divinities.

Withal, the same Christopher Columbus Pufif was
by nature invested with a series of gestures resembling
the gyrations of the crank of a windlass in its last
stages of usefulness, besides a voice which might have
been taken for the screeching of a buggy with un-
greased axles. I understood that it was usual to con-
cede to fledgelings who could repeat with tolerable
fluency the expression, "Please your Honor," the posi-
tion of Commonwealth's attorney, as a sort of intro-
duction to business ; and moreover, that counselors of
ripe attainments found it more lucrative to shelter
vice than to expose it.

But it was rather an odd picture, I confess : a cal-
low stripling, of mediocre parts, whose ideas of jus-
tice were about as clear as the material of which babes
make mud pies, representing the honor, the integrity,
the virtue, the justice of a grand old Commonwealth,
while just opposite sat a dozen attorneys, represent-
ing the learning, the abilit}^ the experience, the influ-
ence of the legal profession, to defend a rogue. Sub-
lime travesty on justice — a little squint-eyed, pomaded

170 Good Gumption

plodder, with a squeaking voice, to maintain the
changeless and eternal right, and the whole legal fra-
ternity concatenated to protect rascality. No wonder
the great Hottentot poet, Hulla Balloo, exclaimed, in
his splendid apostrophe to Sham, when the thermom-
eter stood at two hundred and thirteen degrees in the
shade,

O Villainy, thou kickest up thy heels with impunity.

Turnipins having taken his seat at the bar, sur-
rounded by a host of happy lawyers of the finest abil-
ity, the august ceremony of impaneling the jury be-
gan. Dr. Ashpole, a physician of good standing,
stepped up, kissed the Bible, and swore to do his best,
which would have satisfied me, at least.

"Witness," the sherifif challenges, "look upon the
prisoner ; prisoner, look upon the witness ; do you like
him ?"

"No," the counsel for the defense answers. Exit
Ashpole.

Several merchants, mechanics, and farmers were
offered as jurors, but, notwithstanding their reputa-
tion for integrity, wisdom, and understanding of the
law, were promptly and emphatically rejected.

Next walked up a set of individuals, led by one Bod-
kins, who was certain to be on hand for uncertain
cases, and whose services no doubt received a certain
remuneration. Bodkins kissed the Bible, and in a
saintly way swore impartial justice. Now the same
Bodkins had a bloated face and red nose, and a large
number of unpaid accounts, which from all accounts

Blindfolded Justice 171

he never intended to pay, and withal kept a low tavern
on Slime Alley, Doodle Town.

''Do you like him?" asked the sheriff.

"I love him," responded the defense, and Bodkins
became a juror.

Then came Jake Garlic, a professional juror and
loafer, who had long enjoyed the reputation of being
the most accomplished prevaricator in Toadville.

"Do you like him?" softly and hopefully inquired
the sheriff.

'T adore him," said the defense, whereupon Garlic
became a juror too. So at length, by rejecting every
man whose countenance indicated that he neither
would steal a goose nor eat one that had been stolen,
the jury was made up; and the spotless twelve took
their seats to sit in judgment on Turnipins.

The bill of indictment next was read, charging the
prisoner at the bar with stealing a goose; but, since in
law great stress is laid upon the right use of words,
the bill opened a wide field for debate. The counsel
for the defense consumed no less than three days in
seeking to show, by learned and lengthy arguments,
that the fowl found in Turnipins' possession was not
a goose at all, but a gosling, and that, in consequence,
the bill was in error. Competent experts were intro-
duced to show that the bird had not passed out of the
gosling state, and the matter was finally settled by the
testimony of one \A'hiskison, who swore that the fowl
could not be a goose until it had teeth.

The case, having been dismissed on this account,
came up at the next term of the court, the indictment
clerk substitutinsr aroslinsf for gfoose. The defense re-

172 Good Gumption

quired only two days and a half this time to prove that
the bill was again improperly drawn, since the bird
was not a gosling, as all might plainly see, but a grown
fowl.

The Commonwealth's attorney, Mr. Puff, in reply,
pufTed away eight hours to destroy the arguments ad-
duced by the opposition ; and, when he proved conclu-
sively that the bird had no teeth, and was hence, by
Whiskison's own previous testimony, a gosling, he
seemed to be sailing on prosperous waters. But the
defense quickly swore the said Whiskison again, and
by him showed convincingly that the goose once had
possessed teeth, but, owing to long confinement and
grief, had lost them, the witness testifying that he
frequently had known such cases. As the bill of in-
dictment was demonstrated to be incorrectly worded,
using gosling where it should have used goose, there,
of course, was no trial, and the prisoner was released
until the indictment mill could get to work again.

Next term of the court, Turnipins was again on
hand, charged with stealing a goose. The prosecuting
attorney, deeming himself now master of the situation,
stroked his mustache complacently, as a man who had
but to crack the whip of argument and drive the char-
iot of Justice triumphantly along the serpentine paths
of law. But the opposing counsel set to work at once
to demolish a third time the unfortunate bill, and in
an argument lasting two days proved that the fowl
alleged to have been stolen was not a goose, but a gan-
der.

Pufif, however, having a good constitution, bore his
legal reverses manfully, and resolved to try his hand

Blindfolded Justice 173

once more on the preparation of a bill that would go
through. Accordingly Turnipins sat before the judge
at the next term of court, indicted for stealing a "bird
of the feathered tribe, called in common parlance a
gander, which term denoted a fowl of the masculine
gender." The lovers of justice, and particularly the
loser of the goose, congratulated Puff on the strong
wording of the bill, and all hands looked for a speedy
trial and a glorious justification of justice.

After the reading of the indictment, the counsel for
the defense labored a week to demonstrate that the
fowl in question was not a gander, but a capon. This
having been pretty well established, a new indictment
seemed inevitable, but the judge came to the Common-
wealth's relief by ruling that a gander and a capon
were sufficiently allied to admit of the prosecution of
the case under the bill. So, after the lapse of four
years, the State was prepared to prosecute the noto-
rious poultry thief.

Attorney Puff presented to the jury in behalf of the
Commonwealth the following cogent arguments: i.
The innkeeper, the party from whom the goose had
been purchased, and the hotel cook, identified the fowl
found with Turnipins. 2. Turnipins did not raise
geese, and reliable w^itnesses would testify that up to
the time of the theft he had no goose of any sort on
the premises. 3. On the night of the theft, Turnipins
was seen in the back yard of the hotel, but did not re-
port himself as on any business ; and on the same night
a neighbor saw him with a goose. 4. Turnipins' wife
would say her husband told her he got the goose from
the innkeeper. 5. Turnipins, when arrested, denied

174 Good Gumption

having any goose on the place notwithstanding the
goose was in the coop.

The testimony on which the sohcitor based his ar-
guments seemed conclusive when it was delivered un-
til the defense, consisting of a dozen of the most
astute lawyers in the State, began to sift it. Nobody
knows how a case in court will go until, obedient to
the maxim, ''Audi alteram partem!' he has heard both
sides, top and bottom, and then, if the matter hinges
on the verdict of a jury, it would be just as fair and
expeditious to shut both eyes and draw straws.

The counsel for the defense at last arose and, in a
bland, seductive manner addressed the immaculate
twelve.

"Gentlemen of the jury," said he, gazing fondly at
them ; "we esteem it the happiest privilege of our life
to address so intelligent and respectable a body of
men. Had the thronging multitudes of the spacious
earth been sifted, twelve more worthy, honorable, and
patriotic gentlemen could not have been found. And
gentlemen, you are this day called upon to administer
to a fellow-being in distress impartial justice, and thus
to exercise the proudest prerogative of an American
citizen.

"As we look into your benevolent faces, and dis-
cover playing there emotions welling up from hearts
of compassion, we feel safe in asserting that there is
not a man among you that would so transform him-
self into a brute as to convict, on such evidence, this
innocent man who sits sobbing at our side. Gentle-
men, this injured, maligned, persecuted man, appears
before you to-day to face in open court his enemies,

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176 . Good Gumption

displaying the fortitude of a martyr and the magna-
nimity of an angel. You do not see him dodging in
fence corners or fleeing to the trackless forests. No,
gentlemen ; he comes with the boldness of a hero to
beard the lion in his den.

"See, sirs, what conscious innocence mantles the
countenance of the prisoner at the bar ! Why, gentle-
men, he cannot even look you in the face because he
feels so keenly the magnitude of his reproach. But,
gentlemen, as the morning dew vanishes before the
rising splendor of the sun, so will the mists of slander
and suspicion be dispelled from the character of the
prisoner, as incontrovertible evidence pours from a
cloudless record its bright floods of light upon his
stainless history. And, gentlemen, our noble and
beautiful women indorse, as you see, the prisoner at
the bar. [Holds up a dozen nosegays sent by some
male women.]

"If it please the Court, we shall present the follow-
ing arguments to this most honorable jury: Now, gen-
tlemen, we are going to show conclusively that pre-
vious to the stealing charged against the prisoner, no
gander ever had occupied the innkeeper's coop ; and in
proof of this crushing fact, we introduce a box of
feathers carefully collected from the said coop the
morning after the alleged theft. The last feather was
raked up, and, gentlemen, here they are; examine
them for yourselves. See, gentlemen, here are hen
feathers, rooster feathers, duck feathers, drake feath-
ers, guinea feathers, turkey feathers, but not a single
gander feather! [Here several jurors hold up goose
feathers.]

Blindfolded Justice 177

"Yes, gentlemen, well, er, yes — oh! — you see, gen-
tlemen, that is a fact I intended to bring out since it
sets the capstone on the brow of my argument. Those
are indeed goose feathers, but you remember, gentle-
men, that this case involves not a goose but a gander.

"Now, sirs, we have show^n triumphantly, that there
is not a gander feather in the lot — not one! But is it
possible, gentlemen of the jury, that a gander should
have been kept in a hotel coop, under circumstances so
favorable for molting, without shedding a single
feather? No, gentlemen, never has an instance been
recorded in history, sacred or profane, since the first
gosling stood on one foot and with upturned eye gazed
contemplatively on the eternal sun, of a gander's pass-
ing two weeks of its history in a hotel coop without
shedding a single feather! No wonder you smile.

"Gentlemen, you have heard it stated here that the
prisoner did not raise geese. No ; and for that very rea-
son he bought one, as any prudent man would do, to
fatten for Thanksgiving. And has it come to pass in
this free land, that, if a man does not raise geese, he
can't buy any? Gentlemen, the innkeeper does not
raise geese, and according to the State's own argu-
ment, if he ever owned the bird in dispute, he must
have stolen it ! And when you render your righteous
verdict, if it should appear to your unbiased minds
that this gander was the property of the innkeeper,
you will be forced to give sentence that he stole it!

"And, gentlemen of the jury [looking quizzically],
the State avers in open court that, on the night of the
alleged theft, the prisoner at the bar was seen in the
hotel yard. My fellow-countrymen, does the Com-

12

178 Good Gumption

monwealth's attorney expect twelve rational men to
swallow such diluted logic? Has the State been re-
duced to such a strait as to hinge its case upon so ap-
parent a fallacy? Gentlemen, haven't all of you been
in the hotel yard within the last twenty-four hours?
Did you steal a goose ? Eh ?

"And, gentlemen, His Honor has been seen in the
hotel yard at night — would he soil his immaculate er-
mine by purloining a goose ? Gentlemen, the hotel is
a public place, and there is no custom requiring a vis-
itor to report his business ; and yet, the State charges
against the prisoner at the bar that he did not report
himself as on any business !

*'But, gentlemen, in order to convince you of the
honest intentions of the prisoner, it behooves us to
explain his presence in the back yard of the hotel.
Gentlemen, every man that wants to sell a fowl repairs
first to the hotel to dispose of it, especially if his bird
is an antiquated rooster or gander. Now, the prison-
er, having bought the gander, which proved, by rea-
son of years, to be unsuited to his mother-in-law's
mastication, as a dutiful son hastened to the innkeep-
er to sell it, but finding that they could not agree on
the terms, he carried his valuable capon back home.
And one of the neighbors testified, you remember, that
he saw the prisoner that night with the goose. See,
gentlemen, how this unimpeachable witness, upon
whom the State so largely depends, goes to corrobo-
rate the statement we have made ?

'The State insisted that the prisoner was seen in
the back yard of the hotel. Now, gentlemen, if you
wanted to sell a goose at a hotel, would you go swag-

Blindfolded Justice 179

gering into the front yard, to the annoyance of the
guests, or quietly enter the back yard, where business
hke yours is commonly dispatched? Ah! the prose-
cution has unwittingly demonstrated the niceties and
proprieties of the prisoner's life. Why, gentlemen, the
refinements of poesy scarcely afford an instance of
more delicate or fastidious taste. But he did not re-
port himself as on any business, argues the State.

"As a matter of fact, gentlemen, the prisoner's os-
tensible business was to sell his gander, but his real
purpose in visiting the hotel was to make love to the
cook. My fellow-countrymen, do you wonder that he
loitered about the hotel until a late hour ? Didn't you
hang about your sweetheart's premises until the small
hours, gentlemen ? Of course 3^ou did ; and so did our
most honorable judge. Yet, gentlemen, did you call
up the family and report your business ? But, should
you decide this case against the prisoner, you may,
gentlemen, in your old age, be charged with stealing
a goose, because you didn't report yourselves as court-
ing. Yes, gentlemen, if a fellow on so tender an er-
rand is obliged by law to report his business, there
will soon be no such business to report ; while, per con-
sequence, our daughters will die old maids, and our
young men will migrate to a land of better laws. But
especially [lowering his voice] would such a statute
be cruel in the case of our friend, the prisoner, who
happened, at the time of the charge, to be a widower of
six weeks' standing.

"The attorney for the State flaunts into your faces
the confident assertion that Turnipins' wife testified
that her husband told her he got the goose from the

180 Good Gumption

innkeeper. See, gentlemen, the reckless statements
the State feels compelled to make! Why, sirs, this
lady who gave her testimony so innocently and clearly,
is the prisoner's mother-in-law ! You discover, gentle-
men, that the State has not made very thorough inves-
tigation, or else is prosecuting a fictitious criminal.
If you decide this case against the prisoner, you will
have to demand proof as to his having a wife; but as
he has no wife, and the village undertaker can satisfy
you on that point, you are forced to regard the sub-
ject of the prosecution as a married man.

"But, gentlemen, Turnipins' mother-in-law did say
that the prisoner got the goose from the innkeeper.
Yes, gentlemen of the jury, this saintly w^oman, seeing
that the avaricious innkeeper tried to get the goose
from her son-in-law for a bare trifle, a mere song, and
that her resolute son-in-law had snatched from the
niggardly hands of the innkeeper the noble fowl,
shouted in her joy and satisfaction that he got the
goose from the innkeeper. Gentlemen, do you blame
the prisoner for getting his goose? If some sharp
rogue should try to cheat you out of your property,
wouldn't you get it and take it home ? Is it right, gen-
tlemen jurors, for a man to let an accomplished villain
step up and confiscate his just earnings, his lawful
property? No, gentlemen, it is not right; and as sons
of a free soil, you are bound to uphold the brave man
who dares to humble the bold oppressor.

''Gentlemen, don't your hearts burn within you, as
you look upon this poor prisoner, persecuted, despised,
robbed, slandered, by the prosperous but wicked inn-
keeper? Gentlemen, it is a case of the rich against the

Blindfolded Justice , 181

poor. This purse-proud and base innkeeper thinks he
has only to put forth his murderous hand, and throttle
the poor but honorable prisoner at the bar, because he
ventured to set his own price on his fowl, and displayed
such glorious heroism that generations yet unborn
will never tire of hearing it. Yes, gentlemen, he got
the goose. Sheriff, bring that gander here. Don't
you see, my countrymen, he got him ? This is the very
goose the prisoner had fattened, and petted, and loved.
This tender old mother-in-law^ had become attached to
the noble bird, only to see it taken from her home.

"Gentlemen, have these aged and flowing eyes no
arguments for you? But, gentlemen, more than this
— and if ye have tears, prepare to shed them now — do
you see these motherless children with no loving hand
to caress their brow, no soft lips to kiss their little
cheeks, no kind voice like a mother's to speak peace to
their little hearts? Well, gentlemen, these are the
children, that, in the absence of a mother, who is now
pleading from a better world, for you to do them jus-
tice, had made this dear bird a companion and friend.
And yet, this ingrate, this human monster, the inn-
keeper, would plunder a band of orphans, and take
from them the sympathetic goose that so largely filled
a mother's place. [Several jurors wept.]

"The counsel for the State alleges that the prisoner,
when arrested, denied having a goose on the premises,
notwithstanding the bird was found in his coop. Now,
gentlemen, notice another glaring misstatement of
the prosecution. This coop did not belong to the pris-
oner at all, but was the property of his mother-in-law,
as T can prove by forty competent witnesses. You

182 Good Gumption

are called upon by the prosecution, sirs, as honest men,
to swallow such bald fallacies. Gentlemen, it never
has been proved, nor can it ever be, that the prisoner
had a coop.

"Moreover, gentlemen, much stress is laid upon the
fact that the prisoner at the bar denied having a goose
on the premises. How low indeed a cause must have
sunk to require such an argument to support it ! Why,
gentlemen, don't you see that the innkeeper had just
attempted to rob the prisoner of his fowl, and when a
posse of armed men came upon him unawares, sus-
pecting them too to be robbers, he denied he had a
goose on the premises? If they had demanded pota-
toes, he would have sworn that he had no potatoes on
the premises; yet, everybody knows he raised pota-
toes, and here is [holding up a tremendous yam] a
splendid specimen, which three hundred witnesses can
testify grew on his premises. If a band of armed men
you took to be robbers should suddenly come upon you,
demanding your most prized property, wouldn't you
deny you had such property ? Certainly.

"Now, gentlemen, only one point remains to be elu-
cidated. The prosecuting attorney wants to know
what possible motive the innkeeper could have in
bringing the charge of theft against an innocent man.
Why, gentlemen, it's as clear as the noonday sun. The
innkeeper, seeing that Turnipins was an industrious
and sprightly widower, just the man to captivate a
first-class cook, rather than lose his cook, and through
her his custom, took occasion from the prisoner's visit
to charge upon him this miserable theft. Don't you
see, gentlemen? Now, gentlemen jurors, we leave

Blindfolded Justice 183

this case in your sovereign hands, satisfied of a right-
eous verdict. Just it ia fiat, coeliim mat!" [But the
jury didn't know what that meant.]

The august twelve retired to make up its verdict.
John Toothache said that according to the evidence
the innkeeper stole the goose. Tom Ashes thought
the innkeeper stole Turnipins' mother-in-law. Phil
Shingles thought Turnipins stole the hotel cook. Si-
las Lowboots didn't feel exactly sure whether the de-
fendant was the judge, Commonwealth's attorney,
Turnipins, the innkeeper, Turnipins' mother-in-law,
or the goose ; that's what he said bothered him. It was
reserved for the astute Bodkins to direct the jury's
mind.

"Boys," said he, "thar ain't no use in wastin' time
over trifles nohow; and more'n that, the evidence is
mightily mixed, and 'taint our business to unmix it.
Turnipins is a good fellow, and I fer one say let's clear
him. We may be in his fix some day ourselves."

"That's what I say, too," ejaculated Garlic, and the
remainder of the immaculate custodians of justice
shouted "Amen !"

The case had already cost the State $758, and
was about to be appealed to the Supreme Court, to
cost more, when from excessive age the goose died,
thus ending its sublunar trials ; and the innkeeper, no
longer able to gorge the stomachs of a host of legal
hyenas, was compelled to stop the suit. Toadville
whispered, "There's nothing more glorious on the face
of the earth than the American jury system — for law-
yers and rascals."

INNOCENCE ABROAD

Chapter XV.

About this time and while still I was pondering
what my mission in life was to be I determined to see
a little of the world, thinking that to travel and to see
the big cities would increase my store of knowledge
and wisdom and aid me in choosing a profession.
The city I first chose was Philadelphia, because there
a noted spiritualist was giving a nightly seance and I
wanted to observe the nature of the crowds he was
drawing as well as to measure the man himself.

There always has been in our world a class of peo-
ple that know more than anybody else about what the
wisest men have pronounced unknowable. Still there
are persons who desire to know these things, and they
can readily find other persons who will undertake to
reveal them for the consideration of a few dollars. If
the unknowable can be revealed, of course it ought to
be paid for. The present dispenser of the unknown
was attracting unusual attention throughout the
country as a revealer of secrets and a master of the
"black art." In his chosen profession, he was unsur-
passed in the United States, and perhaps in the world.
I do not intend any reflection upon the magicians of
the old country by this broad assertion; and should

any transatlantic wizards feel hurt, they will please
(184)

Innocence Abroad 185

mollify their grief by remembering that I have never
traveled extensively, and know more about collards
than witches. This noted man, of course, I must see,
and to that end I coaxed Bucephalus to bear me with
average speed over a four days' journey to the City
of Brotherly Love.

As I rode along one of the leading streets of Phila-
delphia, having never before visited a city, I thought
it comported with the dignity of a gentleman from the
country, and was also due the people among whom I
had come, to sit my animal with becoming grace, that
I might bring no reproach upon either my ancestry or
my mule, naturally presuming that my advent would
create considerable stir. I summoned all the dignity
and grace at my command. I wore a broad-brimmed
straw hat, which served both as chapeau and umbrel-
la; my pants, for the. sake of protection, were stuffed
into my red-topped boots, and I had on a homespun
coat, constructed after the manner of a jacket — the
uncultured would have called it a jacket — on the lapel
of which drooped a wilted sunflower surrounded by a
constellation of morning-glories [whose glory had de-
parted] sacredly pinned there by the fair hand of
Polytechnic Campbell.

Now and then, as I glanced up to mark what im-
pression I was making on my countrymen, just as any
fair-minded man will do, I read in the faces of a num-
ber of observers, chiefly loafers and newsboys, that
the sentiment obtained that I was the prophet Jonah,
late passenger of the Whale, but now freighted with
a message of doom. As I proceeded, however — Bu-
cephalus shying first to the left and then to the right.

186 Good Gumption

and bringing his ears to a quizzical horizontal at every
street-car that passed — others seemed to take me for
an impersonation of the seer Balaam, especially when
my beast straddled the track, and brought to an un-
ceremonious halt a funeral procession, which he en-
tertained with a long and hearty bray.

Bucephalus, like his master, unused to the "din and
turmoil of the world," not readily adapting himself to
the situation, and refusing to be governed by those
equitable laws to which all flesh should render obe-
dience, was elevated bodily by a quaternion [I hope
this word drives you to the Dictionary] of rotund po-
licemen, and transported half a square to a location
that, by reason of greater room, offered him enlarged
facilities for exhibiting himself. After a protracted
and rather unpleasant pause there, he reluctantly con-
sented to accompany me, and I led him in deep humil-
iation through the great highways of the second city
of America, his head assuming a perpendicular and
my right arm well-nigh dislocated, until finally I came
to a stand in front of the hotel at which I intended to
stay. An Irish porter came out to relieve me of the
animal — but I never learned who relieved the porter.
I only know that Pat was missing from his post of
duty next day, and the morning paper stated that he
would probably be a guest at the Sawbones Hospital
a fortnight or so — that mule of mine never was re-
liable.

When tea was ready, with characteristic promptness
I was on hand. A gentleman with a soft Italian ac-
cent and robed in spotless linen, came gracefully up
behind my chair and, in a voice of perfect melody, ad-

Innocence Abroad 187

dressed me in a most courteous and lordly style. I,
of course, as any well-bred man would do, politely
arose, shook his hand in a most friendly way, inquired
after his family, and cordially invited him to sit down.
I was about to unfold my mission in visiting Phila-
delphia, when, with a superb smile, the waiter (for
such this individual was) asked my orders, enabling
me to detect the mistake I had made — which was due
to the fact that I never before had been served by per-
sons of light complexion.

The Italian placed the bill of fare before me, to as-
sist me in making an intelligent choice ; but not under-
standing foreign tongues (though I had a diploma in
modern languages from Sheepskin College) I put it
aside and called for coffee, scrambled eggs, beans, po-
tatoes, pork, and collards and then I actually had to
explain what collards were. When a person gets be-
yond this assortment his taste has become vitiated. I
was getting along finely until I emptied what seemed
to be half a cruet of clear, beautiful-looking vinegar
over my collards, and spoiled them. This is a sort of
vinegar I hope never to encounter again — they call it
in the bill of fare huile d' olive, which in English means
olive oil.

After tea I retired in order that I might be prepared
for the labors of the morrow. On entering my room,
I sat motionless for some minutes, watching the bril-
liant jet of gas, which was a novelty to me — there be-
ing no gas in Doodle Town. After a while, just as I
had always done, I blew out the light and resigned
myself to the joys of somnolence, when T suddenly
discovered that the atmosphere had become charged

188 Good Gumption

with a most offensive odor. With the presence of
mind that ever should characterize a traveler, I opened
my door and called for a committee of consultation.
A servant was soon at my side asking if I had turned
off the gas. I demanded an explanation of this seem-
ing impertinence, and was satisfied only when he had
relighted the gas and turned it off. I dismissed him
with the suggestive remark that a hotel of such pre-
tensions should have a sort of gas that could be blown
out.

About midnight I heard an alarm of fire. In the
quiet land of my boyhood such alarms were rare, but
never failed to arouse the neighborhood. He that did
not promptly rush with a bucket of water to the scene
of the conflagration, and render all the help in his
power, was recorded in the annals of society as an
unworthy citizen. Accordingly, my nerves stretched
to their utmost tension, and in wild excitement, T
darted, as an arrow shot from an effective bow, down
three flights of stairs, screaming at the top of mv
voice, "Fire! fire! fire!" As I sped down the street, I
warned the city of its danger, in spite of a gang of
unmannerly policemen who sought to discourage me
with disrespectful epithets. Nevertheless, I hurried
on in the direction of the noise, with the pitcher of
water I had seized in starting, and arrived at length
at the scene of the fire — a candy stand, that had been
set ablaze. As I found a couple of engines — there are
no engines in Toadville — extinguishing the last spark,
I shouted, "The city is safe!" and returned to my bed
with a clear conscience. It is a great satisfaction to
think you have saved a city.

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190 Good Gumption

Next morning, I started out to inform myself touch-
ing the city and city hfe. I soon came to an uncon-
scious stand before a clothing establishment, assum-
ing a dignified attitude in front of its mammoth win-
dow. After placing my hands in the bottom of my
pockets, and forming my legs into a comfortable an-
gle of thirty degrees, I fixed my eyes on the beautiful
scarfs, neckties, glossy shirts, hats, caps, shoes, boots,
and suits of clothes that rose like a magnificent pano-
rama before my astonished vision. Having never
seen anything like that in Toadville, I naturally was
deeply impressed. The sympathetic merchant, ob-
serving my rapt interest, affectionately laid his hand
on my arm, and, cordially, like a true Israelite, in-
vited me to walk in and examine his goods, which he
said, were ''de sheapest and de best goots dat never
was in de American market before."

"Sir," said I, "to find a friend so far from home is
an unexpected joy, and to examine such a stock of
goods as you have mentioned would be an additional
delight, but I am here not to purchase goods, but to
witness the performances of the great spiritualist to-
night."

"Oh ! yesh ; him ish vonderful very much. He puys
all his clothes right here in dis store. So I subbose
you ish from de coontry?" said the son of Abraham.

"I ish," returned I, attempting to conform to city
phraseology. "Aly home is Shakerag, near Toadville.
My father is the grandson of that hero of the Revolu-
tion, Captain Clam Beans, immortalized for his effi-
ciency in the commissary department. And my grand-
mother— "

Innocence Abroad 191

"Never mind apout dat," interrupted my Hebrew
acquaintance, although I was on the eve of disclosing
to him some important bits of my family history.
"Shoost coom in and see dem goots."

'Tlease excuse me, sir ; I do not purpose to buy any-
thing, and would rather not weary you."

"Mine frient, I ish glad I ish med wid you. It ish
no droubles to show mine goots. Dat ish vot I gets
dem for. Coom in and see dem goots." And he pulled
me into his store.

Of course, I thanked the compassionate clothier for
his disinterested kindness, and consented, after much
persuasion, to let him show me over the vast empo-
rium. He displayed his goods most courteously, and
with untiring energy piled up on the several counters,
in great variety and profusion, every style of wear he
thought would suit the tastes of a country lad. He
dragged me back to a little room containing a stool
and a looking-glass, and, after making me put on a
complete change of underwear, kept putting pants on
me, and pulling them off, in the endeavor to procure
a fit, until one of my legs gave out and I came near
having a couple of fits. I remonstrated, saying I
would perhaps visit Philadelphia again in the future,
and then would finish inspecting his superb stock.
This remark only inspired the enthusiastic philan-
thropist with intensified zeal in applying a pair of
tight-fitting breeches to me, and squeezing me up in a
pigeon-tail coat, both articles evidently having been
designed for a first-class dude.

"Now," exclaimed the Jew, exultantly; "you seltom
see shoost so goot a fit as dat. It ish splendid fit ex-

192 Good Gumption

actly. It makes you look like a yoong shentleman
from de city, very much," concluded the mercantile
prince, slapping me on the back to indicate the perfect
fit of the suit.

I made an effort to doff the apparel, but he affec-
tionately patted my shoulder, saying it would neyer do.

"Keep dem clothes and takes 'em home wid you. I
intends you miist shoost have dem clothes," said he.

Thus when I discovered that in a most delicate way
he was making me a present — this stranger on whom
I had no claim — my emotional nature was touched,
and utterance failed me. At length I controlled my
feelings enough to say, "How very kind you are, sir."

He carried me out next to wilderness of boxes, as-
severating that I must have a dozen of those glossy
French shirts and as many collars. "Now you takes
your pick," commanded my benefactor, when we
reached the shirts.

"]\Ty dear sir," urged I, modestly, "please excuse
me. T should prefer not being placed under further
obligation. I am sure it is very generous, but it is
enough."

"No ! no ! never do. Dem shirts must go wid dem
clothes." And he wrapped them up, throwing in a
necktie.

"Now," continued the Israelite, who seemed to be
having matters his own way; "you must shoost put on
a pair of dem fashionable morocco poots, which suits
you oxactly."

The boots were soon on my feet, some four sizes
too large, but he said they fitted me perfectly, and
summoned several of his clerks, who swore to the

Innocence Abroad 193

same thing. Inasmuch as I was a beneficiary I, of
course, offered no difference of opinion.

"Now," insisted the descendant of Jacob, "I'm ish
goin' to give you one of de finest peavers in mine
store." And he set a stovepipe hat on my head, as-
suring me that such was the fashion "wid resbectible
beobles."

Seeing he would take no denial, I made no further
attempt to refuse his bestowments, but my heart was
full, and sometimes the falling tear told of the strug-
gle within.

"Now, mine friend, would you like something else
besides?"

"My dear sir, no ! Your bounty alread}^ has over-
come me. Please mention nothing else."

In spite of me, however, he thrust a handsome cane
at me with an exquisite smile. I smiled too. Why
should I not smile? I fancied my first visit to Poly-
technic in my new suit. What admiration, too, would
I excite in the mind of Mrs. Campbell! Yes, I smiled;
in fact I did it several times.

While thus reflecting, I grasped the liberal hand of
my benefactor, inviting him to my wedding when it
came off, and promising to bring Bucephalus round
next day for him to look at. Pressing his hand most
tenderly, the grateful tears starting in my eyes, as I
said faintly, yet with deep emotion, "Good-by!" I
started for the door.

"Stops, mine frient, and I makes out dat little pill."

"Oh! thank you, my friend, how very thoughtful
you are! But I do not need a pill to-day. My health
is perfect, but I shall ever remember with gratitude
13

194 Good Gumption

your fatherly care. Your kindness to me, a stranger,
is overwhelming."

"Put dat money pill I must give you. Dat's vot I
mean."

"My kind friend, you really must excuse me. I
don't want to appear rude, but you have done so much
for me already that I cannot take money in any form
from you. I am sure, sir, that if there is any medicine
in the world that would help me, it would be a money
pill; but please pardon me now."

"You don't understand pusiness, I dinks. I mean
p-i-double 1. Dat's vot I says."

"I understand you perfectly, my friend. You are
quite correct; that spells pill."

"Den I writes it for you." Hands me a slip of pa-
per.

"What bill?" inquired I, gravely.

"Dem goots shoost makes fifty-one toUar oxactly."

"What, sir? I have bought nothing. You forced
the articles on me, under appearance of benefactions ;
and now, sir, do you have the face to demand remu-
neration ? Are you so great a slave to filthy lucre that
you obtain it by a trick, under color of beneficence?
Why, sir, I never saw half of fifty-one dollars at one
time in my life !"

"Den you takes off dem goots and leaves 'em here.
I don't do pusiness on dat way. I sells goots for de
monish."

I stripped off my apparel and, after swapping ap-
propriate words of counsel, moved down the street
apace, pondering upon tricks of commercial life.

"Do you know where Sim Jones lives?" inquired I

Innocence Abroad 195

of a portly gentleman I met on Chestnut Street. He
said he didn't know him. I made no reply, but thought
it quite marvelous that there should be anybody in
Philadelphia that did not know Sim Jones. I had no
acquaintance with Sim myself, but as father once re-
ceived a circular from him, claiming to offer a sure
cure for hog cholera, I judged he would like to see me,
though I did not have that disease.

I sauntered leisurely on, bowing politely to every-
body I met, waxing wiser every moment, until I came
to a photograph gallery, which reminded me of a
promise to Mrs. Campbell to have my picture taken for
her. That Mrs. C. should be so anxious for my pho-
togroph tickled me no little. The widow thinks sights
of me now, thought I. If she could only have seen
me in that suit of tights — and I sighed.

"What sort of picture do you want?" asked the
artist.

"Well, just give me a general good picture — not
too strikingly like me — say, something that will sug-
gest the seven wise men."

"I presume, of course, you prefer vignette style."

"What? Vignette? Well, yes; I never had a like-
ness of me, but I reckon that will do. Only let it be
full length." He smiled, seeing I knew all about it.

"What size do you wish, sir?"

"Well, you may make it about the size of George
Washington. "S^ou can leave old Wash's horse out if
you like."

"Such pictures are very costly, sir. Most persons
prefer small busts, as cheaper and more convenient.
How many shall I take?"

196 Good Gumption

"I suppose about two hundred of the smaller size
will do, as I have a great many friends, and Mrs.
Campbell will want a dozen or so."

The delighted artist swung a chair into one corner
of the room, knocked me down upon it, twisted my
legs into positions of grace, threw my arms into a sort
of a festoon, screwed my head back into an apparatus
for the purpose, and bade me neither move, nor wink,
nor speak. He then rolled out his camera and was
taking deliberate aim at me .when I jumped up and
told him I did not care to have any man point a can-
non at me, even in jest. He declared it was "all right,"
and I resumed my seat, only indicating that I did not
want anything serious to happen, as I was some dis-
tance from home. The negative was soon taken, and
I was happy the rest of the day.

I saw nothing more to interest me, except a squad
of females, who, I was told, were "sisters of Charity."
They seemed to be anticipating rain, and were under
their tents. The Charity family must be quite nu-
merous, and all females. I asked if Miss Charity had
any brothers, but no one could give the desired in-
formation. Having nothing else to do, I followed a
hand-organ round several streets to watch the mon-
key dance, and then returned to my hotel, a wearier,
but a wiser man.

What a sad and swindling world this is, I pondered,
in the solitude of my apartment in the hotel. I had
gone abroad in Philadelphia and thought I had met a
good Samaritan. He had seemed to be a man who
lived up to the fact that he was a resident of the City
of Brotherly Love, and T had thought to go back to

Innocence Abroad 197

Toadville and Shakerag and tell my friends of the
generosity I had encountered. And all that I had to
narrate of the adventure was the fact that some one
had tried to swindle me.

But, I concluded, after having viewed the situation
from all points, no one else will try to cheat me. I
have had my experience and I guess I shall be able
now to get through with my visit and go back home
without any further mishap.

But I reckoned without my host, as will be disclosed
later on.

AMONG THE WITCHES

Chapter XVI.

About eight o'clock in the evening, after a long
pondering upon the Israelitish character, I was com-
fortably seated in the Quaker City's opera house, wait-
ing for the curtain to rise upon the seance of the spir-
itualist I had come so far to see. Outside I had bought
one of the leading daily papers and while perusing it
came across the following in the shape of a double-
leaded editorial:

DIVES. THE INIMITABLE SEER.

Professor Dives, who is now visiting this city, is the phe-
nomenon of modern times, and the most skillful spiritual me-
dium ever known. His marvelous revelations, his wonder-
ful prophecies, and his power to hold communication with
the spirit world seem scarcely short of miraculous. He lays
open, with startling accuracy, the secrets of the past, present,
and future. Events long forgotten he recalls ; mysteries in-
scrutable he solves with the readiness of a magician. He
reproduces the dead in shadowy form, exhibits their pictures,
and as a spiritual postman delivers their letters. He seems,
indeed, to be a favorite wath the departed, and evinces the
ability to summon them at will. His name is a household
word in every intelligent home, while his fame is commensu-
rate with civilization. Everybody should go to hear him.

The editor, of course, got pay for this pufif, in the

ratio of its remissness to veracity, but at the time I
(198)

Among the Witches 199

took it to be solid fact, and not a financial job. Having
spent my youth on a country farm, I had neither seen
much of the great ones of the earth, nor even heard of
their existence. I think, however, I heard my father
on one occasion speak approvingly of George Wash-
ington. My intense, stolid, inexcusable ignorance of
Professor Dives caused me acute pains of mortifica-
tion, or if that wasn't it, it was the stupendous supper
I had eaten. Especially was I grieved when I thus
learned from the editorial that Dives was one of the
most conspicuous figures in our earth's history — more
gifted than Moses, wiser than Solomon, and greater
than Paul. Poor David! he said his child could not
come to him, but Professor Dives can bring back Da-
vid's child or anybody's. Poor old David ! he sure was
behind the times. I began to realize the disadvantage
of having been born in the backwoods, and was con-
soled only after drawing up a resolution that I'd never
be born there again ; and I never have been.

It was while musing thus that a great gratification
suddenly came upon me. I discovered that my atti-
tude of deep and intense thought, together with my
naturally distinguished mien and air of ripe scholar-
ship and deep erudition, had made me the center of the
audience's attraction and that at least two hundred
opera glasses were turned upon me. With great pains
and complacency I bowed to each adoring inspector,
and, under a strong sense of duty, was about to rise
and address the crowd, since evidently something was
expected of me, when the spiritualist appeared on the
stage, and I was compelled to forego my speech. It
is possible that some thought I was the wizard.

200 Good Gumption

Suddenly the gas was turned off, and the great au-
dience was wrapped in a mantle of thick darkness,
with which a little ray of light seemed to frolic now
and then. The spirits appeared to love darkness rath-
er than light ; at all events, it is just a degree peculiar
that they generally prefer to prowl about in the night.
This is the stranger, too, when some of them claim to
come from unobscured and eternal light. I confess
this fact seemed to be a little to the prejudice of the
better class of ghosts, but I withheld judgment.

Many persons in the audience received touching
messages from deceased relatives, and were variously
affected. Wives heard from their dead husbands, and
sniffled enough to make it respectable ; husbands heard
from departed wives, and stood it heroically; friends
heard from deceased friends, and were amused.

After a while. Professor Dives, moving mysteri-
ously amidst a few dim rays that made a feeble at-
tempt to illumine the stage and were just enough to
impart a sickly and lonesome appearance to things,
announced in a ventriloquial whisper that an old lady
had come up, and desired to speak with her grandson
from the country.

Now it was safe to suppose that there were at least
two hundred grandsons from the country present, and
just as safe to suppose that all of them had, at the
lowest calculation, one grandmother presumed to be in
glory, while many of them had a couple of such. Un-
fortunately, I was not at the time impressed with this
fact, and a sense of family pride urged me to claim
the old lady. It nevertheless seemed to me somewhat
odd that my venerable ancestor should make me ride

Among the Witches 201

hundreds of miles, pay hotel charges, and buy an ad-
mission ticket, before she would favor me with a few
remarks. So I resolved to speak to the spirit.

"Grandma, is that you?" I said, in a tremulous
voice, for I was on the verge of having a fit.

"It is, my son," was the cavernous reply.

Whew! thought I. This diction ill comports with
the earthly speech of my venerable ancestor, for in-
variably to such interrogation she replied, "Hit's me,
Red." But then, in the shadow world, grammar may
be more generally applied than here.

"Is it well with you, grandmother ?" I asked.

"It is well, my son ; I rejoice in perpetual youth and
inexpressible felicity."

It struck my carnal mind that, had I a home in so
happy a world, I would have remained there instead
of gadding about on a starless night. But there is no
accounting for tastes, and my deceased relative did,
while an earthly resident, take strange turns occa-
sionally. I deemed it best, however, before receiving
the communication of my aged ancestor had in store
for me, to ask for a proof of her identity. The pro-
fessor informed me that she would write her name for
me. This was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Sir," said I, in a sepulchral tone of voice that I
think scared some of the visitant ghosts away, "Sir,
my sainted ancestor devoted her days to raising chick-
ens and running a spinning- jenny, and, though I make
the acknowledgment with blushes, it is due her cher-
ished memory that I state the fact that she never wrote
her name or anything else in her life. Now, sir, I am
sure my grandmother would not claim accomplish-

202 Good Gumption

ments she never possessed, much less to enter into a
dehberate trick to impose on the creduhty of her
grandson; and I insist that this ungenerous and un-
called-for imputation of wickedness at once be re-
moved."

I think several more ghosts left as I uttered these
menacing words ; at any rate considerable excitement
prevailed in the audience. After an awkward pause,
the wizard announced that my grandmother would ap-
pear on the platform "materialized." The lights were
turned a little lower and the hall was made a little
darker, in order that the old lady might appear to ad-
vantage, I presume. Before her demise she wore
spectacles, and then had to be led after twilight, but
possibly her sight had improved, and the darkness was
congenial. At all events it was her prerogative to se-
lect her time of peregrination.

After the lapse of about ten minutes, she hobbled
forth into the somber glimmer of the stage, arrayed
in fantastic robes and shrouded in veils, the very im-
personation of a ghost that moved in the upper circles
of Hades. The scene was imposing — very imposing;
my heart was touched ; and my pride was aroused. If
this is my dear old grandmother, reasoned I, it be-
comes me to do the affectionate thing, and welcome
her most heartily after so long an absence. So I
rushed frantically on the stage, and clasped the re-
turned ancestor in my emphatic embrace, as an ex-
hibition of that reverence due a relative who has been
in the spirit-land fifteen years. The lights were im-
mediately turned on, and revealed an audience stand-
ing on tiptoe, gazing upon a captured ghost.

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204 Good Gumption

But behold! in the presence of the vast assemblage
of curious spectators, to my great mortification, my
venerable grandparent came to pieces. The old lady
at first screamed, next raved, and finally fought like
a wild-cat. Her wig flew ofif in the scuffle, while her
veils and airy trimmings became scattered promiscu-
ously— "some flew east, and some flew west, and some
flew over the cuckoo's nest." I sought to pacify the
"materialized" spirit, but met with no marked suc-
cess, and so, after due acknowledgments and en-
treaties on the part of Professor Dives, who had ven-
tured timidly on the stage, I turned the witch over to
him as his wife. This little episode revealed behind
the scenes a barrel or so of old wigs, false hair, switch-
es, false beards, besides several boxes of other pre-
cious materials to "materialize" the immortal phan-
toms of another world.

The seance ended somewhat abruptly, as you can
imagine, and the professor canceled his date for the
next night because of a previous engagement which
he suddenly discovered.

The more I have thought on the subject of spirit-
ualism the more thoroughly I am convinced that it is
the culminating humbug and most unmitigated su-
perstition of the age. And here let me say that I am
in deadly earnest. Thousands of people receive as ab-
solute truth the vague mutterings of men who play
tricks in the dark and make their living by the most
miserable type of lying. Spiritualism has never done
a good thing, while the name of its evils is legion. It
has blasted the nervous systems, upset the minds, and
chilled the hearts of many thousands. It is a cruel

Among the Witches 205

fraud that, under the pretense of "spiritual affinities,"
seeks to disparage marital affinities and smother the
home. It is the religion of cranks and the creed of
fools. It destroys whatever it falls upon mentally,
morally, and often physically.

And the spirits that are reputed to come from a
world of glory are a magnificent set of chuckleheads.
They break through the confines of eternity to talk a
string of nonsense to credulous noodles. Not one has
ever spoken sense enough to justify an obituary of a
deceased tumblebug. Judging from the character of
the returned spirits' writing, spelling, communica-
tions, and appearance, they need in Hades a milliner,
a schoolteacher, and a missionary ; for they have evi-
dently degenerated into a race of buffoons. The whole
thing is an absurd imposture, and should be crushed
under the stern heel of the law, as an enterprise to ob-
tain filthy lucre by filthier slanders on the characters
of the just made perfect.

Concluding I had reached the ends of the earth and
had acquired as much information as I could well di-
gest in a couple of years, I turned my thoughts toward
Shakerag, which lay in the vicinity of Coon Hollow.
To home I would direct my steps.

PAYING THE HOTEL BILL

Chapter XVII.

My experiences in Philadelphia were about to end
when an uncomfortable crisis presented itself, which
I proceed to chronicle, since it contains much food for
reflection.

On the morning after the seance I walked up to the
desk in the office of the hotel in which I stopped, took
out my pocketbook, containing" just $2.25, and de-
manded to know the extent of my indebtedness.

"Your bill is just thirty dollars," said the clerk,
with a professional smile.

"Thirty mud-puddles!" gasped I, clutching the
counter to keep from suddenly assuming an undigni-
fied position, so great was my sm*prise.

"The amount is correct, sir; just thirty dollars,"
insisted the man behind the counter, with some aston-
ishment.

"Mr. Clerk," said I, when I had recovered my reso-
lution; "your intentions may be good, but it is pain-
fully evident that you have never drunk deeply from
the fountains of wisdom, nor have your travels been
extensive. -Why, sir, in Toadville I could get board
and lodging for twenty-five cents per day, and in this
great city, where provisions a're so plentiful, I should

think fifteen cents an exorbitant sum."
(206)

Paying the Hotel Bill 207

I began to cast about me for a means of making
money. Stepping out on the street to hunt for some
employment which would enable me to make an hon-
orable settlement I spied the following advertisement
of a wholesale grocery, printed in all colors of the
rainbow on a huge sheet of canvas:

ENORMOUS BARGAINS

PRICES SMASHED. GOODS MUST BE SOLD.

KETCHAM &. CHEATHAM GROCERY CO.

Because we need the room for new and fresh stock
we are selling the following goods at the accompany-
ing unheard-of prices. Besides, we are going to move
to our new building sometime and don't want to carry
stock over. This is no fire sale, but a bona fide bar-
gain. Come in and see the wonderful bargains named
below.

50,000 lbs. side meat 7 cts.

2,000 hams 14 cts.

200 kegs lard 11 cts.

300 sacks salt $1.25.

275 boxes cheese 12 cts.

800 cans fruit 10 cts.

700 hogsheads sugar 8 cts.

1,500 sacks coffee 16^ cts.

1,000 bbls. flour $5.50.

40,000 salt fish 7 cts.

1,000 kegs rice 6 cts.

8,000 sacks oats 37^ cts.

40 coops chickens 30 cts.

280 geese %]/> cts.

Car-load of hay 60 cts.

. Boat-load of watermelons 15 cts.

208 Good Gumption

Wonderful, thought I, gazing at the sign and vainly
racking my brains to find some more lucid explana-
tion for such truly remarkable bargains. Certainly
no Toadville or Doodle Town store could offer such
inducements to purchasers. At the same time I began
to see a way out of my financial difficulties. So I
marched into the store and was greeted by a corpu-
lent grocer — Mr. Cheatham — who inquired whether
he could do anything for me.

"Do you mean to sell your goods at the prices
named?" inquired I, with some directness.

"Certainly I do. I deal square. I'll put them goods
at the lowest margin for cash. I sell cheaper than
any grocery in the city."

"I am not much authority on the grocery business,"
said I; "but I don't see how it is possible for you to
keep out of the poorhouse, running on such prices.
Why, think of it — a boat-load of watermelons for 15
centsl Ain't those watermelons rotten?"

"No, sir!" said the grocer, with considerable em-
phasis, w^iich he backed up by rolling down a mam-
moth melon, which cracked wide open at the touch
of the knife. I took a seat in front of the fruit — for
such is my custom — and for a segment of an hour un-
broken silence prevailed. At length, with the help of
the merchant I regained my former footing and re-
sumed a business attitude.

"Now," interrogated Mr. Cheatham, "let me sell
you a bill of goods."

"All right!" responded I, as a man that had found
great spoil. "Send me all the goods mentioned in
your advertisement, at the prices named, to the hotel,

Paying the Hotel Bill 209

as per this card, and Fll meet you there for settlement
at three o'clock this afternoon,"

I was sauntering down the street, congratulating
myself upon the marvelous business deal I had made,
when my eyes fell upon another advertisement quite
as pleasing as the first. The Dutch firm of Schwartz
& Van Deuzen was selling out its entire stock of
dry goods at auction and all varieties of human flesh
seemed to be on hand, each individual trying to pluck
a plum from the commercial pudding. The crier,
holding up a specimen, sang out with perfunctory
melody, slightly n^sal, "Thirty cases custom-made
shoes, each case containing 40 pair ; who bids ?"

"I'll take the whole lot at 75 cents," cried a peddler.

"I'll take the whole business at 80 cents," said a
country merchant.

"I vill takes de whole pill of dem goots at 85 cent,"
ejaculated a Jew speculator.

"I take the whole concern at $1.25," ventured I.

"Vy, you kin puy dem goots anyvere for $1.15,"
said the son of Abraham.

"Oh !" said I, "I don't want to get things for noth-
ing." So the 300 cases of shoes were knocked off to
me at $1.25.

The auctioneer next offered 300 dozen gents' shirts,
which I ran up to fifty-two cents. Then I bid in 7,000
bolts of calico at five cents ; 8,000 ladies' hats at thirty-
five cents; 1,000 yards of carpet at 60 cents; 44,000
yards of ribbon at fifteen cents, and 17,000 bustles at
14 cents, besides minor lots of muslins, ginghams, sus-
penders, toilet articles, fancy soaps, and other articles
at correspondingly low prices. In fact, it was not
14

210 Good Gumption

worth while bidding against me and I took the whole
stock, to the great chagrin of my competitors, who
went off complaining that I was a public nuisance.
But Schwartz and Van Deuzen were much pleased,
and their Teutonic manager declared that I "vus de
pest coostomer he effer see." "Ve danks you very
much," said he, with grinning phiz and dilated eyes.
"Vhere moost ve delifer dem goots?"

"You may send them to the hotel," said I, handing
them a card with the address ; "and I'll meet you there
for settlement at three o'clock this afternoon."

"Very veil, mine f rient ; dat ish goot. Now ve vants
to give you von nize bresent. You shust takes dis doge
— Here doge; here doge. Takes dis doge 'long mit
you."

I thanked him for the "doge" and moved down the
street, dragging my pup by a string, though he sat on
his hind quarters propping himself with his feet to re-
sist, and locating his tail between his legs, for what
purpose I have never been able to ascertain. But dogs
don't care much for philosophy.

At nearly every corner, I met the grocer or one of
the Dutchmen or one of their emissaries hailing every
cart, dray, and wagon that came in sight, in order to
convey my immense purchases to the hotel. And I
am candid enough to confess, that to witness all the
vehicles in Philadelphia monopolized in my service was
not displeasing, while my spirit, exhilarated by the
buzz of wheels and the clatter of hoofs, found joy in
the reflection that I could settle my debt.

But this ecstasy of mind was destined to be of short
duration, for, in passing a soap factory, an unknown

Paying the Hotel Bill 211

hand mysteriously seized my pup, and I never saw
him more. I ran to the nearest express office and
asked the agent if he had heard anything of the beast,
but he was too stupid to know what was going on.
Then, almost out of breath, I entered a telegraph of-
fice, but the operator seemed indilTerent to my grief.
I wanted him to telegraph all over the United States
describing my dog, and requesting his return. But
he was too callous to understand.

As I stepped back on the street, it occurred to me
that my only hope lay in securing the cooperation of
the police. I called upon the chief of police, stated my
grievance, expatiated on the lax laws of the city, and
told him that unless my pup be restored before sunset,
I would sue the authorities for damages, and never
return to Philadelphia as long as I lived. This made
him look serious for he saw I meant it. He said he
would not like to see the city injured, and he would
notify the officers to be on the lookout for the dog.
While the chief was a very obliging gentleman, I
thought it prudent to use all my own resources to re-
trieve my loss, so I therefore put an advertisement in
four evening papers :

LOST ! — A black pup with a black streak down his nose,
answers to the name of Sarpedon. Carries his tail between
his legs. Is poor in flesh. A liberal reward offered to
finder. No questions asked. Apply to H. Beans, Ne Plus
Ultra Hotel.

It was nearly three o'clock when I began to retrace
my steps in the direction of the hotel. The amount of
my purchases I figured was in the latitude of fifteen
dollars, just half enough to meet the pompous charge

212 Good Gumption

of thirty dollars, but I knew the austere clerk would be
only too glad to take the goods in part settlement, and
adjust the bills with me and the contracting firms. As
I entered the great thoroughfare on which the hotel
was located; I found it blocked for a quarter of a mile,
while for three squares all around the hotel, every
cross street was thronged with innumerable vehicles
freighted with my goods. The street-cars had been
brought to an unceremonious halt, a long line of om-
nibuses and cabs was making a vain attempt to pass
the tangled drays, two funeral processions were quiet-
ly awaiting more propitious times, a military parade
was impatiently keeping time, but not keeping temper,
while newspaper reporters and policemen were busy
in their respective functions. At length, by climbing
over some vehicles and crawling under others, I suc-
ceeded in effecting an entrance into the hotel.

"What does all this mean?" inquired the irate- clerk
in tremulous accents, as soon as he perceived rrie.

"It means business," responded I, with a smile of
satisfaction. "I've come to settle my account. I
bought these goods for about fifteen dollars, which
sum you will no doubt be only too happy to pay the
gentlemen from whom I purchased; and of course
you will take this vast array of goods in settlement of
my account, rejoicing in unexpected riches and giving
me a liberal commission."

The clerk turned pale, and at this juncture there
stepped up Grocer Cheatham, presenting his bill for
$52,500, while Schwartz & Van Deuzen's manager
handed over a similar document for the round sum of
$45,000.

Paying the Hotel Bill 213

"What's the matter?" said I to the Teuton, with
some misgiving.

"Vy, ve vants de monish for dem goots ; dot vot ish
de madders," said the manager.

"I owe you $4.50 or $5." said I, in measured tones.

''How ish dot?"

"Why, I bought thirty cases of shoes, each case
containing forty pair, at $1.25 ; didn't I ?"

" Yesh ; dot so !"

"Well, then I bought three hundred dozen shirts at
fifty-two cents ; didn't I ?"

"Yesh;dot so!"

"Now let's add as we go; don't you see $1.25 for
shoes and 52 cents for shirts make $1.77?"

"Vot dot you says ? Don't you see, mine f rient, dot
30 cases mit 40 pair in von case, at $1.25 per pair,
makes fifteen hundredt tollar for dem shoes; unt von
dozen shirt at 52 cent apeas makes six tollar unt twen-
dy-four cent ; unt 300 dozen makes eighteen hundredt
and sebenty-two tollar. Den, you sees, I adds fifteen
hundredt tollar mit eighteen hundredt unt sebenty-two
tollar, unt it makes dree tousand unt dree hundredt unt
sevendy-dwo tollar, unt so fort troughout de pill?"

"Gentlemen," said I, facing all parties concerned,
and mounting a trunk which the porter had been try-
ing faithfully, but in vain, to get off for the half-
past three o'clock train. "Those who know me best
love me most. But you have trifled with my affections
and laid snares for my purse. I accepted your own
propositions according to their literal import, but you
have done violence to the plain English in which your
terms were couched and backed from your own condi-

214 Good Gumption

tions. Gentlemen, though my Habihties are in excess
of my assets, my acquaintance with business justifies
my saying that this whole proceeding is undignified
as well as most unbusinesslike."

The merchants, seeing it was a plain case, ordered
their goods back to the place whence they came, and,
hastened by the police, taking leave of me with much
unsavory speech, while the hotel keeper added to my
afflictions by stating that an excursion, composed of
the upper crust of Washington society, with a num-
ber of senators and other distinguished persons thrown
in, five hundred in all, had made arrangements with
the hotel for dinner ; but, unable to reach it because of
the crowds, had gone to a rival house, thereby inflict-
ing a loss of $750. He didn't say which hotel lost the
$750; but I suspect that, if there were many senators
along, the other house suffered the loss.

Sad at heart and fatigued by my labors I went to
bed, but at four o'clock next morning I was' rudely
awakened by a loud pommeling on my door. It proved
to be the night-clerk. He wanted to know what I
meant by accumulating "all these dogs on the prem-
ises of the hotel." I told him I hadn't accumulated
any dogs, and had lost the only one I had. I even
asked if he wouldn't help me find my pup. He said
I'd better come down on the street and "see about
those dogs," if I didn't want trouble. On quiet being
restored I heard dogs yelping, barking, and howling
somewhere down-stairs, besides voices in the hotel
rooms pitched in a high key. People were threaten-
ing to leave such a noisy place because they couldn't
sleep.

Paying the Hotel Bill 215

I looked out of the window. An army of dogs.
All sorts. Newfoundland dogs, greyhounds, terriers,
fices, bulldogs, pointers, setters, beagles, bloodhounds,
and all other sorts — about five hundred. All sizes,
ages, colors — white, yellow, brown, liver-colored,
spotted, red, striped, and blue — all claiming to be my
original black pup. The gentlemen who attended
these dogs saw me at the window. They smiled and
saluted me. They pointed to their canines. I asked
them in a voice of thunder if they thought a black pup
could change his color in a single night, and if he
could multiply so rapidly in the same time.

"Gentlemen," said I, "I am sure it would be dis-
honest in me to claim all these beautiful dogs, as much
as I should like to own them, and I am inclined to
think you had better take these curs back to their re-
spective owners or else dispose of them at the soap
factory, where I now believe my pup is embalmed in
fancy toilet soap. Gentlemen, I mean the dogs, fare-
well !"

But in the morning I found that, despite my efforts
thirty big dollars stood against me still on the regis-
ter, and all of my plans so far had proved abortive.
There was, therefore, nothing left me but to renew
my efiforts to secure funds. In rather a disturbed state
of mind, I accordingly repaired to the business part of
the city in quest of employment. By-and-by I came
upon two newsboys under a hack, engaged in a vehe-
ment quarrel, each trying to prove that the other was
a rascal; and I judge from the arguments used that
both were successful. Taking up a paper that one of
them had laid down in the heat of controversy, I be-

216 Good Gumption

gan reading the list of wants. I saw but one that
seemed to suit my case; it read thus:

Wanted. — A young rtiSn with good muscles, inured to hard
work, to carry burdens, do general errands, work to a hand-
plow, draw a cart especially constructed for the purpose, and,
in a word, act in the capacity of a family mule. Good wages.
Apply at 1728 Cubic Street to J. Hardcrust.

The above impressed me as a singular want, but
one that seemed easily answered. With a prospect of
a final adjustment of my pecuniary embarrassment, I
trotted up to 1728 Cubic Street to offer my services,
since, from long acquaintance with mules, I thought
I could fill the bill. Desirins: to make a favorable im-
pression at the start on Mr. Hardcrust — whose house
seemed to be that of a man of large means — touching
my genuine mulishness, I jumped over the low front
gate, spent ten minutes very profitably under a choice
dwarf pear tree, kicked over a cage of canaries, and,
having pawed a couple of minutes at the door, dropped
into a hammock and began wallowing. Hardcrust,
somewhat rudely awaked from his evening nap, came
bustling to the door.

"What will you have, boy?" inquired he, crossly.

"I saw your advertisement in the 'Daily Mudsling-
er' and thought I might suit you for a few days."

"What are you good for, hey?"

"Well, I have lived chiefly by grubbing, sir."

"Hard work, I should say, for a stripling like you."

"Not much," said I. "The greatest trouble is find-
ing the grub."

"I didn't advertise for a jester, my lad ; I want solid

Paying the Hotel Bill 217

work. I want a youth to do general pack work, haul
about my family in a cart I have had made, at some ex-
pense, for the special purpose ; in other words, I want
a youth to perform the part of a good family mule.
Can you mi the bill?"

"I think I can come as near acting the role of such
an animal as anybody in the United States. You can
give me a trial, at any rate."

"All right !" agreed Mr. Hardcrust. "My old moth-
er wants to go down the street shopping this even-
ing; so you can harness yourself into the cart and take
her down town, since she is afraid of horses."

Having harnessed myself up, I drew the cart to the
front gate. The old lady came out splendidly attired,
and as proud as Lucifer.

"Are you to act as mule to-day?" said she, by way
of salutation.

"I'll come as near it as possible," rejoined I.

"Are you safe? I'm afraid of all sorts of stock?"

"Yes, madam; I'm safe." But I don't think the old
lady observed the emphasis I placed on the pronoun.

"Now, muley," continued my patron, "if you be-
have nicely this evening, on returning you shall have
supper. Mr. Hardcrust will not care to pay more, as
this is just a trial ride. I suppose you have had din-
ner."

"Yes, madam; I had some pears."

"Well, that's enough for a youth of your circum-
stances, I'm sure. By the way, my boy, let me warn
you in good time; don't you put your foot near that
little pear tree you see in the corner of the yard yon-
der. The fruit on it is just ripening. Do you hear?"

218 Good Gumption

"Yes, ma'am," responded I, innocently.

"Cluck! cluck! Come up, muley!"

I trotted off gently, all the while pondering how a
family mule would do, and resolved to fill the contract
by conforming to the acts and habits of the animal
whose part I was to perform.

She told me to stop at the corner, where a friend
with a little boy was waiting for a street-car. As I
drew up with the cart, the mutual friends, after proper
street etiquette, engaged in the following colloquy :

Mrs. Hardcrust: We are trying an experiment,
Mrs. Emptybrains. You know our "Society for the
Employment of Vagabond Youths" is endeavoring to
utilize the poor of our city, and make something of it.

Mrs. Emptybrains {much interested): Indeed!
And you propose to make mules of them ! Ha ! ha ! ha !
and this is such a nice one you have here. Whoa!

]\Irs. Hardcrust : Yes, indeed ; the thing is as gen-
tle as an ox, and the very ideal of a family animal.

Mrs. Emptybrains: The aims of your society cer-
tainly are laudable. If all the poor scrubs of our city
could be utilized in the service of the rich, it would be
a happy riddance of the present unsightly rubbish of
our streets.

Mrs. Hardcrust: Yes, indeed; I loathe the
wretched scum of humanity to which you refer, and —

Mrs. Emptybrains: But, don't you think, Mrs.
Hardcrust, after all, your noble society has under-
taken an impossible task?

Mrs. Hardcrust {confidentially)'. Oh! you see,
Mrs. Emptybrains, we don't really expect to do much
with this swarm of idlers, so far as their social, or

Paying the Hotel Bill 219

even moral elevation is concerned; but we can turn
the pests that infest our streets into a sort of useful
animal. In fact, Mrs. Emptybrains, our grand society
is compelled to have an eye rather to the comfort and
aggrandizement of its own members, than to the vi-
cious herd around us. We don't give publicity to this
feature of our society, but it is natural, you know.

Mrs. Emptybrains: Oh! certainly.

Mrs. Hardcrust: And then, too, Mrs. Empty-
brains, our society has a benevolent feature thrown
in, which gives it an air of respectability, and further
(though you need not mention it), enables us to get a
good deal of advertising free.

Mrs. Emptybrains: I thought the papers stated
that the society was strictly benevolent.

Mrs. Hardcrust {triumphantly) : Of course it is —
benevolent toward its own members — and besides,
when we hire, for instance, a girl, she has special reli-
gious privileges. While w^e go to church, she cooks
the Sunday dinner, and has all the benefit of our criti-
cisms of the sermon after we return; or if we hire a
boy, like this one, he drives the carriage on all great
funeral occasions, and has all the spiritual benefits
arising therefrom. Oh ! yes ; our society is strictly
benevolent !

Mrs. Emptybrains (enthusiastically) : Capital
idea! My husband will have to get a pair of them;
for my little Tommy here will want one to ride and
play with. So much better than a goat, isn't it? But
where on earth could I put them ?

Mrs. Hardcrust: Oh! bless you! The creatures
sleep in the stable.

220 Good Gumption

"Just splendid!" exclaimed Mrs. Emptybrains ;
while little Tommy, stepping bravely up, poked his
finger into my side, crying "Whoa ! sir !"

True to the role of a mule, I raised one of my legs
and kicked the presuming infant into the gutter. After
some repairs, however, the fond mother led the preco-
cious urchin homeward. When Mrs. Hardcrust had
abused me freely I, thinking mule nature justified in
rebellion, kicked the spatter-board half off.

"Do you know whom you are fooling with, you mis-
erable wharf-rat, you ?" asked my humane driver.

"No, ma'am," calmly returned I.

"Well, I'm Mrs. Hardcrust, I would have you know.
I move in the most respectable circles of the city, and
my son is worth his hundreds of thousands. Mind
how you presume, muley. \\^hen the poor scum of the
street get an honorable position, they soon become
spoiled and trifling — the brood of ingrates!"

"Please don't call me a wharf-rat; it is a reflection
on my character as a mule," said I.

I trudged on with my precious freight until I came
to a hotel, about which a large crowd had assembled.
Here I stopped, and, stretching my neck to the utmost
capacity, bawled and yelled and squealed at the top of
my voice.

"What do you mean, you incorrigible scum?" in-
terrogated the fair patron of charity.

"I'm braying, ma'am," retorted I, in splendid hu-
mor. "All first-class donkeys bray when they meet a
drove of mules."

"Go 'long, muley; go on, sir!" shrieked the irate
priestess of benevolence.

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(221)

222 Good Gumption

I brayed still louder as her anger grew, and the
whole crowd, attracted by my unearthly racket, turned
and gazed upon the novel scene. It having been
noised in the multitude that this was the initial ex-
periment made by the Society for the Employment of
Vagabond Youths, the spectators, composed of visit-
ors, cabmen, newsboys, draymen, and an indesci"iba-
ble miscellany, who felt no special sympathy for the
Society, waved in the air their hats, caps, handker-
chiefs, and made the welkin vibrate with cheers,
shouts, and laughter.

"Go on, muley — come up, sir! Cluck! cluck! Get
up, you vile pest !" shouted the enraged angel of mercy.

I backed my ears, and kicked up. This was too
much for the old woman. She got out of the cart,
shook her fist vigorously a time or two over my head,
and, leading me past the crowd, again remounted and
drove on. Having stopped next at a candy-stand,
where my philanthropic mistress wished to purchase
some sweet articles for her grandchildren, while the
confectioner was showing his samples of pastes, loz-
enges, fruits, nuts, and taffies, I seated myself on a
box of lemons, and with hungry zeal helped myself
with both hands to the shopman's choicest fruits and
candies.

"What are you doing, you rogue ! I see now that it
is not worth while to try to elevate you. From scum
you came and to scum you shall return. You are
enough to test the patience of a saint. My son will
turn you off as soon as you get back home."

"Madam," said I, with unassumed docility, "all
true, genuine mules invariably eat when they come

Paying the Hotel Bill 223

near fodder. The mule that doesn't eat really isn't
worthy of being a mule."

After the old lady had laid down a dollar and a
quarter for the damage I had done, we moved off to-
ward a fashionable portion of the city, where I met
an object coming down the street that aroused my
mulish suspicious and excited my nerves. I began
shying and backing.

"What's the matter with you now, you insufferable
pest?" cried Mrs. Hardcrust, in tones of undiminished
wrath.

"What's that thing sliding along the street?" in-
quired I, timidly.

"You impertinent dummy ! That's the daughter of
one of our most aristocratic merchants. Stop your
tricks, and go on, sir !"

"Is she sick?' asked I, trembling.

"What do you mean, sir? Have you never seen a
young lady's head adorned with frizzes and bangs?"

"It's mighty curious," said I, with increasing fear,
still backing. "Is her back broken?"

"You ungracious fool ! In the upper circles that is
what would be called a decided case of the Grecian
bend. Come up, sirf

Remembering that Bucephalus had taken fright un-
der similar circumstances, and resolving that it was
wholly mulic so to do, I scared, snorted, and ran away
I kicked, I ran, I plunged. Mrs. Hardcrust screamed.
I told her to stay in, and that I was perfectly safe. So
I tore down the street, with about twenty-five men and
boys behind me, reaching, at length, at the intersection
of a cross street, a curbstone, against which the outer

224 Good Gumption

wheel of the cart struck as I turned the corner, fling-
ing Her Angelic Highness unconscious, though un-
hurt, on the sidewalk. In my fright I met and scat-
tered a procession, upset a crate of eggs, made five
drays run away, jumped over a baby-carriage and
spilled a pair of twins, ran over a spectacled swell, and
dispersed a crowd gathered around an organ-grinder.
After running three squares, I broke loose from the
cart and rounded up at my hotel, the Ne Plus Ultra.

It was not long before an immense concourse of peo-
ple assembled at the hotel to see me. When I had
made a brief recital of my honest effort to be a true
mule, according to contract, in order to pay my hotel
bill, a newsboy, stating that I had been worth ten dol-
lars a day to his business for the past week, passed
around his hat for a collection. Everybody threw in
something, while a reporter gave five dollars, on the
ground that I had benefited his paper five hundred
dollars; and a clergyman gave ten dollars, because I
had broken up a selfish and unchristian society by giv-
ing practical proof that a man cannot be elevated by
making a brute of him. He said the moral lesson I
had inculcated was worth a thousand sermons.

Thus I paid my bill, and took leave of my enthusias-
tic friends, who said they wished I would stay in their
city a month, and that, if I ever returned, they would
meet me at the railway station with a band of music,
and pay my board as long as I saw fit to stay, simply
on the ground that I was a public benefactor.

But I was not to leave the City of Brotherly Love
without a further demonstration from the people of
the place. They insisted that I be escorted to the rail-

Paying the Hotel Bill 225

way station with suitable pomp and eclat, and, of
course, I had no means of resisting their will, al-
though it cost my natural retiring modesty of demean-
or a great effort to accede to their wishes. The news-
papers and some of the more active pastors got to-
gether and provided a brass band while a company of
militia did the military honors of the occasion, escort-
ing me to the train as though I were a great con-
queror, forming in two lines at the entrance to the
train-shed and presenting arms as I passed through
to the cars.

And I forgot to mention the photographer who took
my picture. Just before I left the hotel on my trium-
phal way to the railroad station he made his appear-
ance and offered me several hundred photographs of
myself, saying that he had been greatly honored in
having photographed such a celebrity as Heredity
Beans and he gladly would give me the pictures free
of charge if I would permit him to retain the nega-
tives and put them on sale. He said he expected to
make a lot of money thereby. I hope he did.
15

/ RAISE SOME SPIRITS

Chapter XVIII.

People like to be fooled, provided they have the
privilege of paying for it. Now I don't pretend to be
the Christopher Columbus who discovered this fact;
some fellow ages ago found it out first and doubt-
less worked it upon his fellow-citizens. But I repeat
it just now because when I went back to Shakerag
the desire seized me to break up a certain growing
leaning toward spiritualism in Toadville and to learn
if the people of my own neighborhood were quite as
easily gulled as those in Philadelphia. Not one man
in ten cares a gingercake for a prescription that a rep-
utable physician presents to him free of charge, but a
mixture of paregoric and pepper modified by some
flavoring extract, the whole claiming to heal all dis-
ease and to work miracles, and purporting to have
been discovered accidentally by some old woman or
some defunct Indian doctor, takes well with the pub-
lic at a dollar a bottle. And on his dying bed, the man
who takes it will, in all probability, scribble a testimo-
nial swearing it cured him. And so, then, men want
to be fooled and, of course, they have a fooler. The
supply and demand of both commodities seem to regu-
late one another. Occasionally, however, the to be

fooled element predominates.
(226)

I Raise Some Spirits 227

According]}', upon my return to Shakerag, which I
kept secret from every living soul but Jack Cheese-
quakes and the cook (whose silence and commissarial
services I secured at the rate of lo cents a day) the
'following card was brought out in the "Toadville
Times" and afterwards posted at every crossroads in
the county as well as upon the door of Shouting
Church. It explains itself:

IVOTICE! IVOTICE! IVOTICE!

Notice is hereby given to a confiding and appre-
ciative public that Prof. Ytidereh Snaeb, late of
Philadelphia, who has startled the world in spiritual
manifestations, having actually captured a ghost long
enough to secure an ethereal veil, will hold a seance
in Odd Fellow's Hall, at Toadville, on Friday night,
the i8th inst.

The Professor will make startling revelations from
the dead, exhibit the captured veil, and perform all
the feats of a master medium. The performance will
conclude with the materialization of Balaam's Ass, a
success never attempted by any other spiritualist.

ADMISSION, 25 CENTS.
Payable at the dose of the Entertainment.

At the appointed hour my stage was ready, my
curtains in ■ place, and everything just right for a
grand seance. Odd Fellows' Hall was crowded to
discomfort by sunset. There never has been, and in
my judgment, there never will be, such an excitement,
until the last great day. There were not a few of the
simple folk of Toadville, who, having repeatedly heard
rumors of the marvelous performances of traveling

228 Good Gumption

mediums, Ijelieved they were true. Many of this class
of people found comfort in the modest .nature of my
*'ad" as well as in my name, which seemed to have the
right ring — Prof. Ytidereh Snaeb. Some declared
it was German, some testified that it was French, while'
others affirmed that it was of Egyptian origin, and
the title of the old magicians. None of them had suffi-
cient good gumption to see that it was Heredity Beans
spelled backwards. And just at that moment I did
not wish them to know me.

At a given signal, understood by Jack, all the lights
were extinguished save an unsnuffed tallow candle
in the rear of the hall, causing a state of things most
dismal, it is true, but suited to the predilections of the
spirits. Not a whisper disturbed the silence that
brooded over the concourse of humanity. In disguise,
I appeared promptly on the stage, with elastic tread,
as if I myself were just from phantomdom. I think
some thought I was. There's not a bit of doubt but
that I looked the role.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said I, in making my salu-
tation, and my voice faltering a bit as I l^eheld the
deep interest my father was taking in the perform-
ance, and my eye met the innocent gaze of Polytechnic
Campbell. "It is the custom of quacks to speak so
vaguely that their utterances may apply- to the per-
sons they claim to call up, or to anybody else. They
speak of matters that are known only to few, and thus
narrow their chances of detection. I prefer, then,
as this is my first seance among you, and from the
nature of my mission likely to be the hst, to reproduce
spirits familiar to you all : and in order that you may

I Raise Some Spirits 229

be satisfied of the integrity of my claim to be the lead-
ing spiritualist of the age, I now place myself at your
service as a medium, to answer accurately whatever
questions you may see fit to propound and to material-
ize any dead persons you may name."

"Call up old Captain Billy ^^'inter," said Jack
Cheesequakes, by instruction, for he and I had planned
the seance carefully,

"Captain. Winter is present," said I, in a dismal
voice, to the vast assembly. "He says he spent much
of his life as a soldier, having served in the struggle
of 1812 and in the Mexican War. And having been
an oflficer he will indicate his presence by firing a mili-
tary salute."

As I uttered the last word I trod on a torpedo, which
exploded with a sound like a pistol. Several ladies
fainted and several others took a turn at hvsterics,
while a couple of old rustics sought the fresh air
through an open window. But things soon settled
down into good order.

"Now," continued I, "Captain Winter is ready to
respond to inquiries."

Nobody seemed anxious to encounter the old hero
and Captain Billy was dismissed without further de-
position. Inasmuch as the old veteran passed ofif
without doing any serious damage the audience was
reassured, and began to test me with a variety of in-
terrogations, some of which, I must confess, were of
the foolish variety.

"Where is Uncle Spasmodic, who died a week ago?"
inquired an affectionate nephew. This question was
the more delicate, as the gentleman referred to had

230 Good Gumption

been for thirty years chief captain of the mourners'
bench at Shouting Church, and was esteemed an ideal
by a host of relatives, but an arrant humbug by every-
body else. But I gave them an answer that satisfied
both factions. Incidentally, the man that can do this
sort of thing is a pretty good politician.

"Your Uncle Spas says he feels too warmly on so
grave a subject to speak with ease," said I, feelingly;
''and his spirit is not sufficiently cool for him to de-
liver himself without considerable pains. He is
grieved that it is expedient to impress the audience
with a burning silence, which, under the circum-
stances, will prove the most flaming eloquence; and
he assures Jiis friends that if he stated the case in full
it would lead to confusion, and a heated controversy,
which would only destroy his peace of mind and tor-
ment him with fiery indignation."

"Poor Uncle Spas!" vociferated a small multitude
of doting kin. "Poor old man!" "Poor, poor Uncle
Spas!" — and there was wailing and lamentation. I
now had complete control of the audience, who re-
ceived my utterances as with the authoritative seal of
infallibility. I justly could consider myself in the wiz-
ard-oracle class.

"How old is Miss Dorothy Squizzle?" asked a cap-
tious youth.

Let me state just here that Miss Dorothy was, per-
haps, the most conspicuous figure in Toadville society,
being a leader in certain styles of fashion, and an ulti-
mate authority in all matters of etiquette. Though
three generations of youths had practiced courtship
upon her, she was still a reigning belle with old bache-

I Raise Some Spirits 231

lors and widowers. Miss Dorothy was an excellent
woman, but morbidly sensitive touching the question
of age. Many attempts had been made to ascertain
this very important matter, but the Sphinx being un-
favorable, and the family record having been torn
out of the ancestral Bible, the secret was still embos-
omed in mystery. There was but one appeal, and that
was to a medium, for the court of appeals, upon whose
bench sat Miss Dorothy herself, had adjourned
sine die.

It was now that Mr. Turkey Thompson, who had
been recently left a widower the third time, was again
renewed in the spirit of his youth, and was paying
his tenderest addresses to Miss Squizzle. He had
actually on one occasion, in an evening stroll, leaped
over a fence three rails high to convince his Dorothy
that he retained the agility of his boyhood. It laid
him up for a week, but of course he never said any-
thing about that. It was all over now but the wedding,
and both were seated lovingly together in the audience.
Therefore the interrogatory propounded to the me-
dium, at such a time and under such circumstances,
was indeed most cruel, and fell upon Miss Dorothy's
ear like a peal of thunder from a clear sky. In spite
of the supposed presence of spirits, she gave way to
her emotions.

''Oh! don't tell!" she whispered excitedly. "Oh!
don't tell ! Please don't !"

But the inexorable medium, pledged to the audience
to answer all questions, had to respond. "Miss Squiz-
zle," it said in funeral accents, "has stopped' being old,
but thirty years ago she was forty-nine."

232 Good Gumption

"Story! Story! Big story! It's not so, Mr.
Thompson; I'm only an advanced girl!" ejaculated
Miss Dorothy, but Mr. Thompson's visage, in the
sickly glimmer of the unsnuffed tallow candle, was
the scene of unmistakable horror, as he sat with his
hands on his knees, bending over, and gazing with
mingled feelings of devotion and regret into the
flushed phiz of Miss Dorothy.

Always a lover of justice, seeing Miss Squizzle was
placed at a disadvantage, I announced the presence
of a spirit who wanted to speak with Mr. Thompson.

"Who is it?" asked that gentleman, with no small
embarrassment, Miss Dorothy, too, showing consid-
erable interest.

"It is your third wife," said I, and Mr. Thompson
shamefacedly bit his lips, while his doting companion
raised her hands in consternation.

"She says she loves you still;" I said, as if translat-
ing for the spirit, "and is often comforted by your as-
surances that you never could love and never would
marry again. She approves the views of marriage
you used to express — that he who weds more than
three times seeks a cook, not a wife. Be true to your
convictions, dear Turkey. Adieu."

Miss Squizzle at this statement from the dear de-
parted stamped her feet, as if to shake the dust of con-
templated matrimony from them, and moved three
feet from Mr. Thompson, whose attitude cannot now
be described.

"Call up the Devil," demanded Toothpick Wheazles,
with an air of great importance ; "I want to see the old
brother."

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234 Good Gumption

''His Majesty is present," said I. "He wishes me
to say that he does not hke his children to call him
brother, and especially young Mr. Wheazles, who is
one of his best-beloved sons." A titter ran over the
audience; then all were awed again as the conversa-
tion between Toothpick and Old Nick began. I re-
port it word for word :

Toothpick (assuming a skeptical attitude) : Any
room below ?

Satan (resignedly): A little; though the higher
critics are taking it fast. But I have a nice place for
you. [Suppressed giggles.]

Toothpick (trying to control timid nerves) : What
do you think of Heredity Beans ?

Satan : I have tried Beans ; but he is incorruptible.
He comes from the best stock in the world. [My fa-
ther smiled at the top of his voice, while Polytechnic
clapped her hands unconsciously, and blushed.]

Toothpick (zvith anxiety) : What girl will he
marry ?

Satan: The prettiest girl that ever walked the
streets of Toadville. Would you like to see her pic-
ture? [The pretty girls unwittingly caress their hair,
the ugly ones sigh, and a few faint. "Yes ; yes !" from
every part of the hall. Father anxious, Polytechnic
nervous, Mrs. Campbell grave.]

Satan (continuing) : Ladies and gentlemen, I re-
gret to leave such congenial company, but there are
places that need me more. A thousand preachers are
waiting for me to help them get up a sensational ser-
mon for Sunday evening, and I cannot disappoint
these faithful workers without detriment to my king-

I Raise Some Spirits 235

dom. Besides, I must give considerable attention to
our Sunday papers. I will see you later. Here, as
you desired, is the picture of the future Mrs. Heredity
Beans.

Then, by means of a cheap magic lantern which I
had procured, I threw Polytechnic's beautiful face on
a screen provided for that purpose. Then Satan left,
and his departure was celebrated by the ignition of a
small saucer of gunpowder.

The scene that followed is quite beyond my powers
of description. Most of the audience were converted
to spiritualism, and not a few wanted to call up Satan
again.

Having told the ages of all the old bachelors, bach-
eloresses, widows, and widowers in the neighborhood,
and having revealed all the secrets any one cared to
conceal or to know, I held up the captured ghost's
veil, thereby causing several screams on the part of
the women, and several hasty exits on the part of
the men.

"On a corner of the veil," said I, holding it up in
the gloomy light, "is written the name of its owner,
one Nest-egg." This announcement created the most
profound silence. "Nest-egg tells me this is the veil of
charity he brings back to earth to throw over the souls
of those whose energies are exhausted at the mourn-
ers' bench, and whose religion consists in pious talk
rather than pious deeds — the people who fooled him
when living and deserted him when dying." Many
sighs and confessions followed.

I next informed the audience that the curtain Avould
fall, and after a lapse of ten minutes Balaam's naked

236 Good Gumption

animal of burden would appear in tangible form upon
the stasfe. This with manv was the event of the even-
ing, and expectation was on tiptoe — so were two-
thirds of the people. Boys crawled upon the shoulders
of men to catch a glimpse of the phantom. Finally I
led Bucephalus up an inclined plane (though it was
plain he was not inclined) prepared for the purpose,
through the back door, and located him with his head
toward the audience. A sheet loosely thrown over
him surrounded him with all the solemnity and rever*
ence due so noted a ghost. Death-like silence brooded
over every part of the auditorium.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said I, "this is the first
edition of Balaam's ass, the phenomenon of the age,
the sublimest achievement of spirtualism. That you
may have no doubt as to his identity, I shall distribute
several photographs of his master in a moment. In-
asmuch as I am an apostle of reformation, and my
aim is not to make money but to promote truth, T
have concluded not to collect an admission fee from
all of you but to ask ]\Ir. Turkey Thompson and Mr.
Toothpick \Mieazles to pay for the hire of the hall and
the advertising. They have had a lot of fun as well
as hearing things the}^ wanted to know. I'm sure you
will see to it that they pay up. And now I ask you to
accept my sincere thanks for your close attention ; and
I leave with you several pictures of Balaam (scatter-
ing about seventy-five of my Philadelphia photo-
graphs) for sacred mementos in coming years. Good-
night !"

As these words sounded like an echo from the dead
in the ears of a breathless assemblage, I mounted Bu-

I Raise Some Spirits . 237

cephalus and darted through the back door into the
dark night, riding a ghost.

As you may suppose, I found it expedient for me to
absent myself from the neighborhood a couple of
weeks, in order that time might soften all asperities.
I had, of course, ofifended everybody in the commu-
nity, besides breaking up several contemplated mar-
riages and proving the Toadville spiritualists to be
fools. But the joke was so stupendous, the seance so
ludicrous, and the people so completely taken in, that
in a few weeks pretty nearly all hands forgave me,
and even Miss Dorothy smiled on me again. Mr.
Thompson has not smiled yet, nor has Mr. Wheazles,
but I understand on good authority that they may
do so soon.

At all events my object was achieved — I had sought
to break up spiritualism in Toadville, and I certainly
did. I don't think it will be safe for any man to pro-
pose a seance in that village for a century to come.

THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT

Chapter XIX.

For some days I had been thinking between times
about ecclesiastical matters, and at last I found my-
self hanging on the horns of a most perplexing tri-
lemma. My father belonged to the school of Wesley,
my mother was a Quaker, while Polytechnic leaned
in quite another direction. Puzzled by this variety of
opinions and conflicting creeds among my dear and
near, I resolved to construct a church of my own, on
a basis that all sane people could accept. Why should
I not invent a theology? Had not a number of the
mighty spirits of the past done the same thing?

I was completely carried away with my scheme,
and without any difficulty, except that of paying for
it, got a patent thereon. The wisdom and necessity
of forming a church in the light of the New Theology
became more apparent every few seconds. I took no
little satisfaction in the thought that I was to be the
world's greatest religious benefactor, and that all gen-
erations would owe me a debt of boundless gratitude.
What a pity I had not been born several centuries
sooner! As the apostle of church-building, I set out
to construct a doctrinal house that would hold every-
body— to frame a creed that would be adapted to men,
women, children, and even the higher class of mon-
(238)

The House That Jack Built 239

keys. In prophetic mazes I saw the petty sects into
which Christendom is divided vanishing as the morn-
ing dew; I beheld opposing creeds clasping hands on
the broad foundation of my new house; and in my
mind's eye I descried a gorgeous temple filling the
earth, on whose mammoth door was written in letters
of mud trimmed with monkey tails, "Wide Is The
Gate: Walk In!"

Since no time was to be lost, as a first step and with
entire unanimity, I elected myself Bishop. Of course,
nobody could object to that. This wisely and satis-
factorily done, I drew up the following Constitution,
Articles of Faith, etc. :

CONSTITUTION.

(Based on the Declaration of Independence.)

When, in the course of doctrinal squabbles and
scientific mists, it becomes necessary to squelch
the sects that mar the peace of Zion, and to anni-
hilate the differences that separate partisans, it
behooves the Bishop of the New Theology to as-
sume, among the theologians of the earth, the
separate and superior station to which the evan-
gel of dirt and his own inner consciousness en-
title him.

The Evolved Church holds these truths to be
self-evident: that all men have a right to do as
they please; that all women are born free and
loquacious; and that all babies are born bare-
footed. That, furthermore, all mortals, whether
males or females or women preachers, have cer-

240 Good Gumption

tain inalienable privileges; that among these are
matrimony, political chicanery, and the pursuit
of religious novelties. That to secure these rights
the New Theolog}^ is preached among men, de-
riving its just powers and unique ordinances from
the supreme authority of the Gospel of Mud and
the Science of Mrs. Eddy; that when any creed
becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right
of any man, male or female, who has a vivid im-
agination, to alter, abolish, or swallow it, and to
institute a new church, laying its foundation on
such dogs, dogmas, or doggerels, and prescrib-
ing its ordinances in such forms as shall seem
to him most likely to satisfy his vanity. Pru-
dence, indeed, w411 dictate that rituals long estab-
lished should not be changed for light and tran-
sient causes ; but when a long train of authenti-
cated doctrines and canons, shooting invariably at
the same object, evinces a design to make the hu-
man race behave itself, it is the right, yea, the
duty, of mankind to knock such church govern-
ment into a cocked hat, and to provide new creeds
to amuse themselves and their children.

I, therefore. Bishop-elect and Apostle Plenipo-
tentiary of the New Theology, in solemn convoca-
tion of one, do, in the name and by the authority
of the said dignitary, publish and declare, that
the aforesaid church is, and of right ought to be,
free and independent (if not, why so?) ; that it
outstrips all other churches, and, according to
the eternal fitness of things, as a free and inde-
pendent church, it has full power to raise a row,

The House That Jack Built 241

break the peace, or found a dancing-school, and
cut all other capers which an independent church
may of right cut. Selah.

This church shall be known as The House
That Jack Built, whose sublime mission shall
be so to blend the Church and the World, that all
conditions of mankind may be united in one har-
monious hole.

ARTICLES OF FAITH.

Article i. The world is the result of a fortui-
tous concourse of atoms, and is a mighty funny
thing anyhow.

Article 2. Man came from a lobster ; and after
the vicissitudes of a brief existence, he is gathered
unto his fathers in the Kingdom of Mud.

Article 3. It is impossible for a man ever to
know anything in this life ; and it is the supreme
end of his ambition to make money, tell stale
jokes, guess at the age of the world, play the
fool, and die an agnostic.

Article 4. Wisdom consists in denying what
has been proved for six thousand years, extin-
guishing all possible lights, deifying abstrac-
tions, abstracting Deity, and turning the Ten
Commandments into a muddle.

Article 5. Do others before they do vou, and
do 'em brown.

CATECHISM.

What is you name?

Answer: Bill.

Who gave you this name ?
16

242 Good Gumption

Answer: Pap.

What else did he give you ?

Answer: A top and a tin horn.

Name the Apostles.

Anszver: Darwin, Wallace, Huxley, Haeckel,
Mill, Spencer, Mrs. Eddy.

Who was Mrs. Eddy?

Answer: She was a Baker.

What did she bake ?

Anszver: She roasted three husbands.

What is mind ?

Anszver: No matter.

What is matter?

Anszver: Never mind.

What can you say of sickness?

Answer: In sickness and pain nothing is the
matter, since there is no matter.

What is sin?

Answer: Sin is faulty imagination.

What are natural objects?

Answer: Things not what they seem.

What is Evolution?

Anszver: It is the science of glorified dirt.

What put Darwin on the track of Evolution ?

Answer: He smelt a rat.

THE ORDINANCE OF SKINNING-THE-

CAT.

Whereas, much prejudice hath arisen because
of the inscrutable mystery of the ordinances, the
church, of her own sovereign will, doth deem it
meet and right to institute a single act, to be

The House That Jack Built 243

known as the Scientific Ordinance of Skinning-
the-Cat. This rite the church doth understand to
take the place of baptism, being a more active
expression of that Hvely change through which
the heavenly pilgrim is required to pass, meeting
on the one hand the exactions of the Scripture —
viz., a revolution of heart; and on the other, the
demands of Science — viz., an evolution of the
body.

The candidate shall be blindfolded by the
priest, and led backwards by the same, to the left-
hand corner of the church, where he shall sit, in
the presence of the congregation, on a stool cov-
ered with sheepskin, which the church doth in-
terpret to be symbolic of innocence. After a si-
lence of three minutes, the priest shall unbandage
the candidate, who, while the choir chants an ap-
propriate psalm, shall skin-the-cat to the best of
his ability; whereupon he shall have the sign of
the Happy Horse-Shoe made on the back of his
neck, and be declared to be in fellowship with the
New Theology.

Women, seeing they cannot conveniently sub-
mit to this rite, shall be excused ; howbeit, they
shall be required to hold their tongues with
gravity on the Movable Feast of the New
Moon.

Should any be skeptical touching the authori-
ty for this rite, he shall be referred to those pas-
sages of Dictionary Writ involving the idea of
turning, and such words as convert, converted,
pervert, perverted, divert, diverted, etc. No act

244 Good Gumption

so fitly expresses this turning as skinning-the-
cat; therefore, any prejudiced mind will frankly
admit that this impressive and beautiful ordi-
nance is both Dictionarial and scientific. Nay,
more, the world is full of symbols of this act. The
earth itself turns around ; the autumn leaves turn
brown; and the average mule turns over. The
priest shall so expound.

THE SEVEN WONDERS OF CHRISTIAN

SCIENCE.

1. Sin is not evil.

2. Everything is nothing.

3. A dead man isn't dead.

4. A ten-dollar gold piece is an idea — a good
one.

5. The father of this cult is a woman.

6. Pain is a freak of the fancy; that is, the
other fellow's fancy.

7. Cramp colic has its seat in the imagination
— that is, after it sits down.

VESPER SONG.

BY ANN O N Y M O U S .

As a rule, a man's a fool ;

When it's hot.
He wants it cool ;
When it's cool,

He wants it hot;
Always wanting

What is not;
Never liking

What he's got.
As a rule, a man's a fool.

The House That Jack Built 245

BENEDICTION.

Omnific Mud, from which we come, and in
which we abide, keep us in harmony with thy-
self, and at last receive us into thy kingdom.
O. K.

The House that Jack Built was now complete. It
was a large structure, with plenty of room; lighted
by gas and heated by ideas ; and since it was dedicated
to the god Mud, it was without a bathroom. I'm quite
sure, even at this day, that it was ten thousand times
ten thousand per cent better than some of the cults
flying around now and masquerading as religions be-
cause it didn't outrage God and Christianity. I showed
the plan of my church to a number of the higher
critics and to some women of both sexes, all of whom
were loud in its praise. Many prophesied that it was
destined to supersede all other organizations, and be
the church of the future. Some said it was a happy
hit to found a religious system on the Declaration of
Independence, so that a man need not be over-particu-
lar about Scriptural authority for every little thing
he does. Not a few thought it a capital idea to leave
out hell ; others held that the omission of heaven was
timely. All declared that the absence of the Ten
Commandments indicated progress. A multitude
promised to join me when I got things started. I
truly can say that things looked most hopeful for the
success of my church, and I began to congratulate
myself.

But one morning T awoke from a series of dreams
in which the devil and his imps chased me, prodding

246 Good Gumption

me with pitchforks. I arose and began to dress, and
outside I heard a pig grunt. This brought me to my
senses. I opened two" of my eyes very wide, and l)e-
hold ! I saw, as in a vision, my church blown to pieces
in a violent storm, for I had neglected to put any foun-
dation under it. So right then and there I went out to
the pig-pen and poured out the ecclesiastical garbage
I had composed as proper food for swine, thus forever
abandoning the gospel of tommyrot and charlatanism.
Then I decided to hasten toward Zion. Two months
later I entered a theological seminary. Anyone who
wishes may have the job I created as Bishop of the
New Theology, though before they are desecrated to
the office let me quote to them the words of the Son
of God: "Upon this rock I build my Church, and the
gates of hell shall not prevail against it."

Just remember that, if you please, Mr. Man-with-
an-elastic-religious-conscience, when you take up your
work as the Bishop of the New Theology. Just re-
member it also, Mrs. No-denomination-whatever,
when you are inclined to run after some outlandish
and sacrilegious and newfangled cult gotten up by
somebody who wants to fatten his own purse and the
list of guests at the Devil's boarding-house. And re-
member it also. Reverend Doctor Bighead, when you
come to study over the Scriptures to find some new
thing to propound to your flock and lead it into the tor-
tuous ways of schism and disbelief, because you do not
stick to the sort of gospel you learned at the theolog-
ical seminary and the doctrine that your fathers in the
Church taught. Just remember it, if you please, Mr.
Higher-critic, when you seek to overturn the revealed

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248 Good Gumption

truth of the Book of Books. Just remember it and
keep on remembering it.

If you forget it, as I came near doing, the things
that will happen to you will be many and terrible.
Your chance of explaining your position, when you
come to answer before the Great Judge, will not be
the sort you have been accustomed to having down
here on earth. Your audience will be of a vastly dif-
ferent type and the sophistries you have handed out
here will not pass muster as logic there. The justice
that will be dispensed to you then will not be the sort
that was dispensed to our acquaintance Turnipins a
few chapters back.

For every sin you committed against God, Mr.
Bishop-of-the-New-Theology, you will have to pay
doul:)le to the Church of God. For every sinful thing
that your silly brain thought, Mrs. No-denomination-
whatever, you will have to answer as you would to the
breaking of the Ten Commandments, while for you,
Mr. Higher-critic, there will be good and sufficient
punishment. I rather would take my chance with a
thief and a murderer at the last day than with the man
or the woman who leads other men and women astray
from the path of righteousness by means of false reli-
gious lights.

Take the advice of Heredity Beans, dear reader,
and steer clear of the things that call themselves new
religions, or new faiths, or new schools of religious
thought. Do not, if you value your life or your soul,
play with the edged tools of Christian Science, or
Faith-cure, or Theosophy, or the doctrine that permits
a man to outline his own Decalogue. The cults that

The House That Jack Built 249

masquerade under the name of Christian have not
Christ and the Cross at their head. BeHeve me, the
real and true leader of such faiths, if they can be dig-
nified by such a grand old title, is Satan himself. It
is one of his favorite devices for the ensnaring of the
weak and the thoughtless. Once in his power in this
way it is almost impossible to be saved.

You cannot deify mud or a stone and square your
religious account with God. You cannot set up a
woman or a man, as some of the latter-day "faiths"
do, and give her or him the worship that is due to
God, and then expect him to pardon your offence
against the first law of the Decalogue. You cannot
expect to heal a broken leg or arm through prayer
alone. God does not mean to have things done that
way in these days. Nor can you expect in such a way
to raise up your child from the bed whereon it is sick
with diphtheria or some other malignant disease. God
doesn't do things in that way, either, and you sin
against him when you expect it. Go back to the faith
of your fathers. They lived, prospered, and went to
heaven by it; and what was good enough for them
certainly is good enough for you. If there is deadly
illness in your house and you are inclined to the Eddy
madness or the Faith-cure foolishness take some of
Heredity Beans' good gumption and get down on
your knees for the purpose of seeking God's pardon
for your error.

Then run to the nearest physician and ask him to
break his record getting to your home.

MY FIRST SERMON

Chapter XX.

Having been ordained at last to the work of the
Gospel ministry, I accepted an invitation to preach at
Tadpole Chapel, Toadville, in the absence of the pas-
tor, though I had never preached a sermon in my life.
Now Toadville was a remarkable village — remarkably
so. Its population was, by actual count, three hun-
dred and twenty-seven — the inhabitants said three
hundred and twenty-eight. Putting the village docr
tor at his own numerical value the latter estimate may
have been correct. Its public buildings were the
Phoenix grogshop, the Cosmopolitan Hotel, three
stores, running from a twenty-five-cent to a three-
hundred-dollar stock; a single-barrel drug-store, and
Tadpole Chapel. I name the buildings in the order
of importance attached to them by the Toadvillians.
The transforming paint-brush never had migrated to
Toadville, and the voice of the eloquent lawn-mower
never had been heard in the land. The lightningrod
man had found it, sold one rod, departed, and never
returned. But it is of the Toadville inhabitants
chiefly that I wish to speak — the members of Tadpole
Chapel — and, of course, I must respect seniority and
begin with the oldest inhabitant.

The original settler of Toadville was Crybaby
(250)

My First Sermon 251

Stove, whose high prerogative was to roast ahve all
that differed with him, to keep his pastor in a stew,
and the whole church in a broil. Stove was deaf in
one ear and always kept a wad of cotton in the other.
You had to put both feet on the pedestals, operate the
knee-swell, pull out all the stops, and with your vox
humana raised to the highest pitch, shout, "Brother
Stove!" This was simply a trick on the part of Cry-
baby to hear little and talk much. Nobody knew his
age, and nobody in the same enclosure with him ever
had the courage to ask it. Tradition placed it at
ninety-seven years, but his vigor was so remarkably
preserved, that a stranger would have reckoned him
under rather than over sixty-five..

Crybaby was the oddest of mortals. He never was
known to smile except when a pastor offered his res-
ignation. He actually had "run off" so many minis-
ters from Tadpole Chapel that no preacher of ordinary
courage wished to encounter him. The trouble with
Stove was that he wanted to preach himself, being
profoundly impressed with a call to the ministry, but
as no one save Stove was thus impressed, no field
opened to the aspiring theologue. He wrote all the
obituaries for the community, and when rehearsing
them on public occasions, did all the crying. He was
never known to weep except before a crowd, and then
he never failed. His reputation had reached me, and
I am free to say it filled me with apprehension as I
accepted the invitation to preach my maiden sermon
at his church.

The reader will next make his bow to the village
doctor. Dr. Joab Fyddlestycks was six feet tall.

252 Good Gumption

scarcely distinguishable from a lightningrod of the
same length, and he was remarkably fluent. I never
saw him but that he declared he had just spent his
last dime, though a small fortune was owing him.
He never was asked for a contribution to any benevo-
lent objects but that he had not given "largely" to a
late appeal, though he never remembered the name of
the man who made the appeal. He invariably had a
call at the time of religious service, except occasion-
ally on conference days, when he came after the ser-
mon to answer to his name, to avoid a charge for non-
attendance. On such occasions he made almost all of
the motions, and did all of the talking. He nomi-
nated all the committees, and drew up all the resolu-
tions. He always subscribed liberally to the pastor's
salary — but he never paid. Whenever approached by
the treasurer on the subject, he was "just waiting for
a responsible patient to settle a large bill next Satur-
day." AMiy Dr. Fyddlestycks should be pressed finan-
cially was a mystery to me, as his medicines cost a
mere trifle and his family was small. His quinine
pills seemed made out of mud coated with flour, while
his paregoric, his unfailing panacea, was diluted with
colored water, which he termed a "mild alterative."

No man ever had heard anything which the Doctor
had not heard so long ago that he had forgotten it.
He was intimately acquainted with all the noted per-
sonages of the day, some one of whom was always on
the eve of visiting him, but was prevented by some
unforeseen occurrence.

The Doctor's "ofiice" was a comfortable oak chair
at the door of the Phoenix bar-room. Whenever he

My First Sermon 253

pulled a tooth, he would step inside and take a drink.
A crowd of village loafers habitually resorted to his
"office" of an evening to hear his marvelous stories.
Fyddlestycks could make a lie appear impressive, and
never suffered anybody to tell a tale that he could not
beat. On one occasion a city drummer happened at
the ''office," and felt it incumbent on him to enlighten
the natives of Toadville on the subject of snakes. I
must relate what happened to him.

"Down East, where I came from," said the drum-
mer, conscious of superior knowledge, "our people are
beginning to use snakes for telegraph wires, there be-
ing one now in active operation between Boston and
Bunker Hill."

Every eye turned to the Doctor for relief. Fyddle-
stycks paused a moment as if to collect his scattered
forces and then advanced to the attack.

"It is altogether probable, sir," said he. "Some
years ago I discovered and reported to the profession
that there is a sufficient amount of electricity in cer-
tain kinds of serpents — which, in reality, sir, are nat-
ural batteries — to send telegraphic communications,
the length of the serpent being the only desideratum.
I noticed, however, in yesterday's paper that the head
of a serpent, known to science as the serpens ingens,
had been brought from England to New York, the
body crossing the Atlantic, leaving several miles of
tail coiled up on the docks at Liverpool. The old cable
has suspended operations, while the new line is work-
ing night and day."

The gentleman from the East took the next train
out of the county. But I couldn't take it, for I had

254 Good Gumption

an engagement to preach before the learned Doctor,
and found myseh' under the necessity of facing the
ordeal. The majority of the members of Tadpole
Chapel were as pious a folk as the sun shines upon,
and only the assurance that I should have their sym-
pathy made it possible for me to face the people among
whom I was reared.

I never had imagined that there could be any very
decided difficulty in discoursing on some simple text for
the space of thirty or forty minutes. I had six weeks
in which to prepare, and, of course, began by attempt-
ing to select an appropriate text. I opened my Bible
at the first chapter of Genesis, and read the account
of the creation. This subject struck me forcibly, seem-
ing to afford a wide range for speculation, exegesis,
and application. A short investigation, however, con-
vinced me that JNIoses had pretty well compassed the
subject, and that, for several years at least, I could
not hope to surpass the great Hebrew, in his chosen
field. I laid the fascinatins: theme aside for future and
indefinite consideration. So I passed on to the fall of
man and the loss of Eden. That seemed to suit exact-
ly ; what a range for first-class oratory ! Man, crushed
under the blow of divine wrath — lightnings burning
on the bosom of the angry clouds — hoarse thunders
uttering their fierce anathemas — humanity fieeing
from Paradise, whose gate is guarded by cherubic
hosts and a flaming sword ! I worked on this majestic
theme ten days and nights, when I came to the conclu-
sion that I couldn't beat "Paradise Lost." I reluc-
tantly laid it aside for future reference.

Next came the Flood, which, at first inspection,

My First Sermon 255

seemed scarcely grand enough for a maiden sermon.
Still, it widened a little under my mental magnifying
lens, assuming at length quite respectable proportions.
I pictured in my mind the thundering waves beating
down smiling villages; I described lovers sitting on
the veranda in the moonlight, bending over their
cologne bottles, while anxious youths waited for a re-
ply to a proposition of marriage. In cases of favora-
ble response a huge wave broke ofif the engagement.
Others were marrying and given in marriage ; the hap-
py groom was repeating after the minister, "with this
ring I thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee
endow," when his worldly goods suddenly became wa-
tered stock.

I drew mentally touching scenes of frightened girls
'phoning to Noah to ascertain what hour the ark would
sail, mothers-in-law sitting on gentle knolls, holding
in one hand a silk umbrella, while in the other a foun-
tain-pen to record their last tender advice to their
newly-acq;iired sons. I knew that would bring the
tears from Crybaby. I thought of the confusion grow-
ing out of the breaking up of all the ordinary means of
communication — telegraph wires down, post offices
closed, cars and trains stopped, and even the express
facilities suspended, while the bicycles ceased their
functions, and the wagons and carriages, with a few
exceptions, w^re standing in the highways with the
water rising above their axles, and poodles with red
ribbons on their necks lookinsf out of the windows of
the latter vehicles.

The daily papers, I foresaw, would advertise rub-
ber goods at exorbitant prices, at the same time mark-

256 Good Gumption

ing a decline in the quotations of cigarettes and cigars ;
for in a crisis men do not want to put their money in
things that end in smoke. Opera glasses were firm;
but chewing-gum and popcorn were lower. The fore-
cast said, "Continued rain." I determined to portray
the rising waters, floating houses, pianos, sewing-
machines, flood, and darkness — all the electric lights
out — storms and waterspouts, the maddened ocean
sweeping the wicked away and roaring in tremendous
majesty over hills and fnountains.

In my fervid imagination, I got aboard the Ark,
riding triumphantly on the high seas, rejoicing in the
salvation of Jehovah. But here my theme gave out,
and, landing on Mount Ararat, I abandoned the Ark
and came down, my fancies subsiding much faster
than the waters.

After this I turned my attention to the Ten Com-
mandments, but found them already sufficiently de-
veloped— and besides I hadn't kept enough of them.

The next field that appeared to open bright with
promise was that of prophecy, offering most magnifi-
cent opportunities for lofty flights of eloquence and for
profound insight into hidden mysteries. So I deter-
mined to unravel Ezekiel's vision — but it didn't un-
ravel.

Four of the six weeks having elapsed, I arrived at
the conviction that there was no suitable text for me
in the Old Testament, and so passed over into the
New. Here I found several inviting passages. I
tried the general Judgment, finding there, too, that the
supply was not equal to the demand. I then tried to
ride the pale horse of Revelation, but he threw me.

My First Sermon 257

The six weeks now had drawn to a close. It was
late Saturday evening, and I was still without a text.
After tea, I lighted my lamp, searching until nine
o'clock for an appropriate theme for next morning.
At last my happy eye fell on the words of Matthew
xii. 12: "How much then is a man better than a
sheep?" It is noticeable that the tyro in preaching is
almost sure to select the loftiest or else the quaintest
texts in Scripture, deeming himself quite competent to
manage matters that the masters in theology touch
with fear and trembling. The fledgeling preacher ac-
tually steps in where bishops fear to tread. Under in-
tense application, I discovered, to my unspeakable sat-
isfaction, that my lamb developed finely, his horns as-
suming proper dimensions, his fleece broadening and
whitening, his tail following the law of perpendicu-
lars, until I had for my Sunday discourse not a skele-
ton, but a full-grown sheep. A case of genuine Dar-
winity, one might say, and one showing the remarka-
ble efifect of evolution.

An enormous congregation greeted my appearance
at Toadville, the home of my forefathers and the scene
of a large portion of my youth. This circumstance
accounted for the unusual gathering. The center of
converging eyes, I entered the pulpit heavy-laden with
my sheep. The companions of my youth, no doubt re-
calling many an adventure of the past, stared at me,
while older heads (the little episode with the hornets
and the late seance being still green spots in their
minds) shook their heads in doubt as to the propriety
of my standing behind the sacred desk. My father

was outside, saying in whispered tones of unmistaka-
17

258 Good Gumption

ble ecstasy, "That's my boy, gentlemen. Open both
ears to-day. It's in him ; I tell you, it's in him. He's
a chip off the old block, my boy is." As Polytechnic
passed in, he gave her a sly pinch, whispering softly,
''Don't cast love-glances at my boy until he gets
through preaching." Answering with a blush, she was
soon lost in the multitude.

The congregation, curious to behold the "new
preacher," had promptly assembled, and as promptly
turned their heads to gaze at me as I walked up the
aisle, which had been taken up with pallets, by fond
mothers, for their children to frolic or sleep on during
service, as seemed to them good. I managed to wade
through the little fellows without doing any serious
damage, only here and there knocking over a couple
of youngsters that tried to climb my legs, while before
I opened the service I had to do considerable hand-
shaking, my father pointing proudly to me.

Commencing my sermon with a most startling flight
of eloquence, I soared from the vine-clad hills of earth
to the amaranthine bowers of Paradise, taking in the
stars as I prosecuted my voyage. Paradise being some
distance from this mundane sphere, my rhetorical
wings grew too weak to sustain so long a strain, and
dropped me somewhat unceremoniously in Toadville,
to escape as best I could from the two horns, not of a
dilemma, but of my sheep. Polytechnic's eyes were
turned upon the floor, her cheeks suffused with crim-
son, while my father twisted restlessly in his seat.

Fortunately, before a miscellaneous audience, there
are always two resources in case of a sermonic failure ;
namely, obstreperous bawling or the recital of a death

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(259)

260 Good Gumption

scene. Nothing was now left me but to employ both
of these life-preservers, and strike manfully for the
shore. Having shouted "Glory!" and a few kindred
words at the top of my voice several minutes, thus
raising my hearers to a suitable emotional frame, I de-
scribed a dead pig I had seen in the road some weeks
before, with telling effect. It was a poor little pig, I
stated, whose father had perhaps been slaughtered by
the ruthless hand of the butcher, whose parental care
was forever denied the pitiful and helpless offspring.
Its little feet were still in death, its little eyes were
glazed in forgetfulness. The mother had returned to
her wallowing in the mire, there to sorrow alone for
the little one that lay by the roadside dead.

Seeing I had reached a ripe climax, I concluded.
Crybaby wept profusely. Owing to a peculiar bent in
his constitution, he could not be happy without a
death scene or a funeral — though a pig would do for
a subject.

"Magnificent! doubly magnificent!" exclaimed he;
"I'll never forget that pig scene, and it will do me good
for months to come. Punctuate your sermons with
funerals, my boy; that's the thing that tells every
time."

Even Dr. Fyddlestycks came up to congratulate me.

"I tell you, sir," said he, enthusiastically, "that pig
incident was a masterpiece. It reminds me of the oc-
casion on which I addressed, by earnest invitation, the
court of Queen Victoria, and related the original story
of the lost kid. The effect, sir, was so prodigious that
I was invited to repeat it at every court in Europe."

And there were other results from my sermon. Mrs.

My First Sermon 261

Campbell was seized with a pair of the jimjams, and
Polytechnic was gasping with a case of the highjinks.
My father leaped from his seat crying: "That's my.
boy, every inch of him. I knew it was in him. Chip
off the old block, my boy is." Tearful sisters passed
me saying, "Splendid!" Alany said it was the best
sermon they ever heard. I drank all these compli-
ments in with great dignity, and looked with benignity
upon my fellow Toadvillians.

And I returned home fully satisfied that within less
than six weeks I should walk as pastor into the grand-
est church on the Western Continent, with a salary of
$5,000 the first year. At odd times I found myself
drawing a picture of the church of which I was to be
pastor, its cloud-reaching steeple, its surging congre-
gations, and its palatial parsonage hard by. Week
after week, however, passed, as I sat each evening on
the fence, waiting for the mail to bring me a call ; but
no call came. I saw in the "Ecclesiastical Conglomer-
ator," a denominational weekly, that a number of fine
churches were pastorless, yet, strange to say, it never
occurred to them to communicate with me. Surely I
was known everywhere by this time, and I have always
thought that was the reason I didn't get the call.

MISS SO OK SIIO£STJ^INGS

Chapter XXI.

About a year after my ordination I became pastor
of the Eden Church at Doodle Town, suffocating upon
an annual salary of three hundred and fifty dollars.
It came about this way:

On returning one evening from a most charming
visit to Polytechnic, I found a letter awaiting me, ad-
dressed to the Reverend Heredity Beans. I had never
seen the title of Reverend written in connection with
my name before, and, as I gazed upon it, the curious
writing, and the odd envelope, I felt my cheeks redden.
I am now recognized by the w^orld, thought I, as a
true son of Levi, a respected member of the cloth, and
a veritable successor of the Apostles, if not indeed an
incipient Apostle himself. With beating heart I with-
drew from the family group to my own apartment,
that with no eye to see, no ear to hear, and no tongue
to tell, I might examine the mystic epistle. Thus it
read.

Dear Brother Beans: In regfular conference, on
December 5th, Eden church, at Doodle Town, elected
you unanimously its pastor, at an annual salary of
$350. This is an interesting field, in serious need of
a faithful undershepherd who is willing to make
sacrifices for the good of the cause. The church

(262)

Miss Sook Shoestrings 263

will expect you to be punctual in all appointments,
to conduct all prayer-meetings, lead the singing, hold
family prayer wherever you lodge, warn the wicked,
strengthen the feeble, visit the flock, settle all dis-
putes, build a new church, conciliate the women,
and adjust politics. And I might add that you
would also be expected to settle all fusses growing
out of love affairs and dog-fights.

Fraternally yours, Twang Noodle, C. C.

To which I rephed:

My darling Tzvang: Your exhilarating favor nas
reached me, awakening music from chords that had
not been touched for many a moon. Indeed I have
not felt so great ecstasy since a certain Fourth of
July barbecue of my youth. I have for some time
thought I would like to be a missionary to the hea-
then, and I rejoice that the opportunity is now offered.
Please say to the saints at Doodle Town, on my be-
half, that I accept their call; and in addition to the
duties enumerated, I shall be glad to sweep the
church, cut the wood, make the fires, and ring the
bell. I shall fill the pulpit next Sunday.

With a cataract of love, I am yours, H. Beans.

I mounted my mule, and after a wearisome journey,
through desolate pine woods, toward nightfall reined
up at the plain but comfortable residence of 'Squire
Shoestrings. The 'Squire kept a crossroads store, and
had not yet come in for the evening meal. His wife,
however, met me with some degree of surprise, but on
learning my name, received me with cordiality, invit-
ing me at once to a blazing hickory fire in her best
room. I was, I am free to say, not a little glad the
'Squire was out, for it has always been easier for me
to get acquainted with a woman than a man.

264 Good Gumption

"You have a flourishing church in the neighbor-
hood?" ventured I, in measured accents.

"Good es enny," repHed my amiable hostess.

"And no doubt by proper effort it may be still fur-
ther developed," suggested I.

"Enwalloped?" exclaimed the Squire's wife, getting
a trifle excited. "Them church air been standin' these
forty year, an' ain't been enwalloped yit. Is that yer
arrant here — to enwalloped them church? Kase if it
air, ye's got business onto yer hands, ye has."

"Oh ! madam, you did not catch the force of my re-
mark," said I in confusion. "I simply meant that with
proper efforts the operations of the church might be
enlarged ; and — "

"Opuration or no opuration," interrupted my host-
ess, "them church air large ernough. It air forty
foot by sixty, and everybody of common onderstandin'
knows that's large ernough fur this 'ere neighborhood.
Mought be the folks is larger whar you come from,
but we is small pertaters 'bout these p'ints, and kin
squeeze ourselves into small quarters."

I was inexperienced and timid. Had I possessed
the miraculous gift, I would gladly with becoming ve-
locity have crawled into a dirt-dauber's nest to spend
the night, but it was a crisis in my ministerial life, and
I resolved to steer my way over the breakers at all
hazards. I now began to discover something of the
general spirit and intelligence of my community.

"Who was your last pastor?" resumed I, mildly.

"Wall, lem me see on it. It was ole Brother Do-
nothing. An' fur erwhile he was moughty pop'lar —
everybody 'peared to like him pcw'ful tell he beginned

Miss Sook Shoestrings 265

to talk erbout money, an' folks los' confidence in him
prisonous rapid. It won't begin to do, chile, fur a
sarvant of the Lord to talk erbout sich things."

"No, indeed. So let's talk about finances."

"Poor Frances! she's dead and gone this two year
next March."

"By the way, did the church pay the salary of its
late pastor promptly?"

"Wall, sometimes it did, an' sometimes it didn't;
most in gen'ally, p'rhaps, it didn't. But the bretherins
allers gin him more'n half on it, an' that's er plenty
fur enny heavenly-minded soul. Yer know er preach-
er of the gawspill hadn't oughter hanker atter arthly
things."

"What was the amount of his salary?" continued I.

"I think how I hear 'em say [casting her eyes to
heaven as if to recall the vast sum] it were three hun-
dred an' fifty dollar; a precious bit, accordin' to my
way o' thinkin', fur er hour's preachin' twict er Sun-
day. I know I'd feel es proud es er hornit ef I could
squeeze that money jes fur talkin' er hour or sich er
matter. Talk's cheap, chile !"

"Yes, madam," indignantly rejoined I. "Some talk
would be dear at any price, while other talk is not es-
teemed because it is beyond the range of fools."

The old woman was cute enough to see just what
I meant and her wrath was kindled to such a pitch
that her eyes became menacing craters, through which
poured the fires generated by the active forces of the
volcano within. I have never spoken it abroad, but I
confess it here, I was seriously alarmed. As she
viewed the poker, I contemplated the window. In

266 * Good Gumption

fact, things were getting dreadfully mixed, when a
footstep in the passage announced the arrival of
'Squire Shoestrings, whose presence interrupted a con-
versation that was not altogether unto edification, and
possibly averted a catastrophe that would by no means
have been comforting to my shrinking nature. The
'Squire received me kindly, expressing the hope that I
would like the village and the church, though for him-
self he had never joined it. As for the salary, he said
he knew it was small, but he thought I might manage
"to make out."

"Yes," said I, "I can get along, but the salary is
hardly enough to buy toothpicks."

"Spiders an' gingercakes !" gasped the excited ma-
tron in bewilderment. "I sees es plain es the nose onto
a man's face, ef you come here, yer's gwine ter com-
mote this community. An' mark my talk pertic'lar,
ef you teches them church, it air enwalloped beyant
all rekivery."

To the evident relief of all parties, supper was an-
nounced and an excellent- meal was served. My appe-
tite, somewhat impaired by previous exhaustion and
embarrassment, was readily satisfied with two fried
chickens, a quart of cold collards, seven cups of cof-
fee, several glasses of milk, a lot of tea-cakes, and a
few other small delicacies, whose names I cannot all
recall just now, but which included pies, sweetmeats,
and nuts. When Mrs. Shoestring discovered my de-
votion to her table dainties, she began to soften up
most wonderfully toward me. Every time I handed
up my cup to be refilled with cofifee, or helped myself
to a new dish, I rose ten degrees in the warmth of her

Miss Sook Shoestrings • 267

affections, for she prided herself on her cuHnary at-
tainments, and together with her family, worshiped
the god Pan. The 'Squire's evident liking for mc,
coupled with the growing intimacy of the children,
conduced to advance me in the esteem of my hostess,
who graciously swung from the extreme of reserve
to that of open-heartedness.

After supper, the family, consisting of parents, five
sons, eight daughters, and two dogs, met in Mrs.
Shoestrings' sitting room for a social hour. A piece
of well-charred lightwood knot made a noble effort
to illuminate the apartment, sending out now and then
a precious little ray of resplendence; but alas! Sook,
the eldest girl, removing her black gum dipping-brush
from her elaborate mouth, and puckering her lips ac-
cording to the law of resultant forces, snuffed (par-
don the pun, but the snuff actually seemed to put the
fire out) the heroic but feeble blaze.

"Thar now!" said the parents. "Now, Sis, what
did you do that fur?" chimed in each of the children.
I don't think the pups made any remark, but this state-
ment, however, is not guaranteed, since the din of
voices was so great as to render the canine accent not
easily distinguishable. After a search of half an hour
in all the rooms, loft, and kitchen, for a match, Stuffin
Shoestrings remembered that he had put one of those
household necessities in his Sunday vest-pocket, and
soon rekindled the invaluable knot.

"Now, Sook," said Mrs. Shoestrings, glancing fur-
tively at me, "I specks you hain't made no favorable
impression on Brother Beans by lettin' him diskiver
that snuff bresh, bein' how he don't smoke hisself."

268 • Good Gumption

"Never mind, Brother Beans," continued the moth-
er, "Sook is a smart gal, an' kin turn a broom es brisk
es a whirlwin'. All the young men in the neighbor-
hood looks on Sook es bein' a mighty chance. But I
tells Sook, considerin' her blood an' property, she's
got to set her pegs higher'n anything in these diggins.
See, Brother Beans," lowering her tone in great confi-
dence, ''Sook's pa has got heaps of land, an' er mill,
an' er house an' lot in town ; an' I ses to Sook, ses I,
'Sook, child, you can't 'ford to fling yourself away on
this neighborhood trash.' "

"You are entirely right, madam," said I, somewhat
bewildered, "to wish the highest privileges and advan-
tages for your daughter, and I trust your most san-
guine expectations, so far as they are for Sook's high-
est good, may be realized. Your first care, however,
should be to impress her with the solemnity of her
duty to God, and the beauty of holiness."

"Which I does ; an' fur that reason I has allers told
Sook how mighty pleasin' it would be to her ole maw
ef she would take a likin' to some pious man what
could 'spound the Scripturs to her — an pertic'lar ef
it wuz er preacher."

"Now, maw ! you know I hain't fit," said Sook.

"Hush! Sook; you hain't no fool, kase you know
mighty well a preacher has so many burdens on his
mind that he don't want no mummy 'bout him. Not
much ; he wants a wife that flies 'bout like er hummin'
bird, full of fun, lively es er cricket, with plenty of
spirit. Brother Beans, see that gal lookin' like she
wa'nt thinkin' 'bout nothin' ? She ain't no idiot, Broth-
er Beans, Sook ain't."

(269)

270 Good Gumption

"You, maw! you know I never 'tends ter marry.
Hie, hie, hie."

"W'y, Sook! It wuz but yistiddy you 'lowed es
how Brother Beans' pictur wuz the pretties' thing
you ever see, an' you wisht he would only ax you to
m— "

"Stop! maw," screamed Miss Shoestrings, sliding
rapidly across the floor, and placing her expansive
hand over her mother's mouth and giggling. This
touching episode — it was really very touching —
caused everybody in the room to roar with laughter,
except Shoestrings, who was asleep, and myself, who
wanted to be asleep — and the pups.

By this time, unfortunately, the younger children
had come to the conclusion that I was intended for
their sport as well as for that of others. For twenty
minutes they had been gradually getting nearer to
me, when at last one little fellow poked the broom-
stick at me to see if I would bite. As soon as it was
perceived that I was altogether harmless, he ran his
hand into my pocket and grabbed my knife. Another
plundered my remaining pocket and took out my purse,
while two sprightly girls sat on my knees, and a prom-
ising boy climbed upon a chair and then arranged him-
self astraddle of my neck.

The fond mother looked on admiringly, occasion-
ally remarking, "Napoleon, you's a rude chile, son.
I don't speck Brother Beans is used to sich rude chil-
dun." Then again, when I had been nearly devoured,
the placid parent would say, all the while approving
the precocity of her boy, "John Adams, why don't you
quit, son ?" Matters grew worse and worse, the chil-

Miss Sook Shoestrings 271

dren climbing up on me and pillaging me with greater
and greater barbarity, until, in the effort to disentan-
gle myself, I trod on the tail of one of the dogs that
had been eying me suspiciously for some time, arous-
ing his canine wrath. The insulted pup, attempting
to wreak vengeance on me, in the confusion of legs
inflicted a wound on Stuffin's thigh, which caused the
entertainment to conclude with a bawl.

John Adams was now ready to take me to my room,
and I bade the family a hearty adieu. Sook followed
me into the passage, asking if I would accept a gera-
nium leaf. I took it, and tried to smile. Thus en-
couraged, the mammoth maid became emboldened to
further wooing,

"Mr. Beans," said she, "would you feel insulted if
I offered you a pair of socks I knit for you since I
heard you wuz coming to Doodle Town ?"

"Why, no, Sook; I have on several occasions re-
ceived socks from members of my congregation, and
have always appreciated them."

She handed me the footwear smiling a good-night,
and hoping I would have pleasant dreams.

Wearied and worn, I followed John Adams Shoe-
strings to my room, climbing a ladder to get there.
It was a loft, called by the family the "company's
room." In one end were stored away cotton seed and
fodder ; in the other stood a rickety bed, on which slept
a dog. John Adams left me alone, requesting me to
"let 'em know if you want anything." To which I re-
plied that I never expected to want anything again as
long as I lived.

My first preparation for the night's rest was to

272 Good Gumption

make friends with my new roommate, who seemed a
Httle suspicious of my movements. I unraveled one
of the socks Sook had just given me, and having
gathered up the four corners of the spread, which I
securely fastened with the thread, I let my canine ac-
quaintance down through the window. Then I went
to bed wondering whether most preachers had so hard
a lot, whether they met with families like the Shoe-
strings, with characters like Sook, and whether they
had to sleep in a loft, and have a fight with a dog to
get possession of the bed.

And then, after I had gotten possession of the bed,
the brute that I had ejected set up a most doleful howl-
ing underneath my window. He doubtless was expa-
tiating to his fellow-canines of the neighborhood re-
garding the inhuman monster that had sent him adrift
into the night to find a bed as best he could. In dog
language the things he said about me for the space of
an hour were simply tremendous in their eloquence
and force. Sleep was out of the question until I had
silenced him. So I hunted about for a weapon. Noth-
ing suggested itself save a huge iron frying-pan I
found stowed away in the corner with some other cast-
ofifs from the kitchen. Taking careful aim out of the
window with this I hurled it at him. There was a suc-
cession of short, painful yelps and then silence. I
shook hands with myself and again went to bed.

I then tried to sleep, but alas ! it was impossible. I
closed not my eyes the whole livelong night. The
chinches attacked me in droves ; they fought me ; they
ate me, they nearly killed me ; and I found no relief un-
til the dawn of day. As I came down to breakfast,

Miss Sook Shoestrings 273

Sook, appareled in her best garments, brought me her
album, with the request to write in it an original poem.
My muse being prolific, I indited the following ode;
and but for the unsentimental breakfast bell, I think I
would have filled out the album :

AD SOOKIAM.

O maiden fair, thy golden hair,
Thy crimson cheeks, thy ringlets rare,
Thy laughing eyes, thy apple pies,
Thy heav'nly name, thy bottled dyes,
Thy hundred charms, thy dimpled arms.
Thy acres broad, thy country farms,
Thy slender neck, thy father's check.
Thy hand of snow, that holds a peck.
Thy glitt'ring gold, thy wealth untold,

0 cherub fair ! O spirit bold !
Can ne'er requite the hapless fight

1 waged against the bugs last night.
Now maiden fair, thy album take.

And take as well thy trusty broom ;
And from the cracks the chinches rake,
Before thoud'st wed a luckless groom.

At family prayer Shoestrings handed me a Patent
Office Report for the Bible. I read two paragraphs
from the national gospel : one on "How to raise hogs,"
and the other on "The best method of exterminating
vermin," and prayed to be delivered from the terror
by night, and from the pestilence that walketh in
darkness.

I understand Mrs. Shoestrings is wondering why I
haven't been back. I'm not.
18

SENNACHERIB TONGS WEDS

Chapter XXII.

One dreamy evening in April, the mail brought me
a letter, which explains itself :

MuDViLLE, April 17.
Rev. H. Beans.

Dear Sir: The object of this letter is to inform
you that I am to be married on Wednesday night,
30th inst. The honor of performing the ceremony
is conferred on yourself. We want the job done up
in the best style, as there will be a big crowd and
an abundance of intelligence present — people of our
stamp, you know, do things on a grand scale and
have to have a grand show. No ordinary affair
would accord either with our rank or family record,
for we are descended from the first families of the
State, and move in the upper stratum of Mudville.

Now, sir, I hope you will allow me to make a sug-
gestion or two without taking offense. Please come
in most fashionable shape, wearing a broadcloth suit
and kid gloves. Most of the gentlemen will have
beavers. On arriving at Mudville, put up at the
Spring Chickens House, until called for. Remem-
ber, everything must be first-class.

Respectfully yours, Sennacherib Tongs.

It was now that hope loomed up before me, that
double rainbows bedecked all the clouds of heaven,
and that the world was bright with the implied prom-
(274)

Sennacherib Tongs Weds 275

ise of Sennacherib Tongs. Mr. Tongs' letter was the
basis of my hope. Having never married a couple, I
had no experience in the fee business, and congratu-
lated myself on having a case of rank and wealth as an
initiation. Of course, anyone, not hopelessly besotted
with ignorance, would understand at a glance that
Sennacherib Tongs was a gentleman of liberal cul-
ture, magnificent affluence, and generous bestowments.
The brilliancy of the approaching wedding dazzled
me. Broadcloth suits, kid gloves, beavers ! I saw, in
the prospect, maidens clad in silk, and giddy throngs
reeling in luxury. Tables groaned under rare and
costly viands. I saw the bride robed in gold, and the
bridegroom staggering under jewels. A thousand
bridesmaids smiled before me under the gilded arches
of a granite mansion. These were the things I beheld
in my vision. And these were the things for which I
sought to part with my money :

Suit of broadcloth ^zy oo

Kid gloves i 75

Beaver, two-storied 8 00

Silk cravat, striped and spotted 75

Patent leather shoes 4 50

Silk handkerchief 50

Watch chain, best quality of brass. . . 15

Purse, extra size to contain fee i 00

Total expenses for marriage $43 65

I bought the goods on credit, promising to pay the
cash immediately on my return. It was my desire to
meet Sennacherib's wishes as nearly as possible, since
I expected him to pay handsomely for my pains. My
next care was to interpret his request — "please come

276 Good Gumption

in most fashionable shape." I had never given much
attention to such shapes, and found considerable diffi-
culty in getting the information I wanted. At that
time, the most fashionable shape for women was "the
Grecian bend," but it was not so clear what was the
proper form for men. As I traversed the streets, or
rather the street, of Doodle Town, since there was but
one, I closely observed the attitude of the most fash-
ionable men. But they were all different. One looked
like a toad and another like an ape. Still others like
whisky barrels, fence-rails, pumpkins stuck on knit-
ting-needles, gimlets, corkscrews, and walking clothes-
frames. None of these, however, suited me, nor
seemed the proper thing for a wedding, so I struck
an attitude and took a shape of my own, with my head
thrown back at an angle of forty-seven degrees, my
hair pompadoured, my repose of face broken only by
a joyous grin, my body erect with legs two feet apart
at the bottom, and the general appearance that of a
man who had swallowed a bank.

Rigged in my finery, in superb shape, seated on
Bucephalus, I set out for Mudville in high glee, some-
what embarrassed, however, to know how to accept
in a graceful manner without betraying the least ea-
gerness, the splendid remuneration that would be of-
fered me by Tongs. I thought it most probable Sen-
nacherib would either fling his purse at me, with the
command to help myself to satiety, or else summon
me by an escort of lordly grooms into his private office
and hand me in a royal way a check that would break
a couple of ordinary banks.

After two days and a half of weary riding under a

Sennacherib Tongs Weds 277

relentless sun, I reined up my foaming steed in front
of the Spring Chickens House, where I found a ragged
urchin waiting to conduct me to the residence of the
bride. I should like to give here a description of the
hotel, but I have never seen a dictionary that contained
a single word that would give the slightest conception
of it, or of any of its parts. I shall only say for the
benefit of the traveling public, if night overtakes you
in the vicinity of Mudville, select a respectable fence-
corner, turn a kerosene barrel over yourself, and take
the chances outside rather than roost with the Spring
Chickens.

"Poller me, boss; I'll take you dar," said the negro
boy who met me, conscious of the dignity of his mis-
sion. He rolled the whites of his eyes at me a time or
two and darted off before my mule. When I had pro-
ceeded about half a mile out of town, my tawny guide
halted on one foot, whistling a negro jig before a
double log hut that stood on the roadside. Several
horses, in apparent need of repairs, and a few rickety
buggies, stood about the door, rendering the scene
neither impressive nor imposing.

"Go on!" said I, to the sable lad, impatiently; "I
don't care to stop at a stable when I'm dressed for a
wedding. Go on !''

"Dis is de residence of de bride's fodder," he re-
joined, whereupon I sighed. In a moment Mr. Tongs,
my bridegroom, came out to meet me at the gate, as
gorgeously appareled as a peacock.

"Mr. Beans, I wish to see you a moment privately,"
said he, in confidence.

"Certainly, sir," replied I, thinking matters were

278 Good Gumption

moving financially in the right direction, and involun-
tarily placing my right hand on my new purse. On
turning the corner of the yard fence, Sennacherib
stopped gracefully, and after the manner of a king,
drew from his pocket an enormous envelope, apparent-
ly well-filled, and deposited it in the palm of my grate-
ful hand. I bowed low in acknowledgment.

"Eureka !" thought I. In the upper left corner were
printed these suggestive words, "Office of Register of
Deeds." Ah! I understood it now. If the yellow
wrapper did not contain a handful of $ioo bills, it at
least contained a deed to a house and lot in Mudville,
or a suburban farm. I did not care to evince a carnal
mind by looking into the envelope, but carelessly
shoved it into my inner pocket, as if I were used to
such things.

The ceremony was performed in a very happy style
by a very happy man, who at once left Mudville for
more familiar parts. I did not dare to open my valua-
ble package on the way, for fear that some one on the
highway should discover my good fortune and render
me liable to robbery. I reached my boarding place in
Doodle Town at 9 p.m., and, after a hasty supper, re-
tired to my room to have my rejoicing alone. I bolted
the door and then locked it. I shut the windows after
securely fastening the blinds. Then I lowered the
curtains. Next I stuck a wad of paper in the keyhole
and lighted the lamp. Finally I took out my treasure,
opened the envelope, and behold! it was a marriage
license.

Three weeks passed by, and then His Excellency, S.
Tongs, made request through the mail for a certifi-

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280 Good Gumption

cate of marriage, saying, "I have gotten a good bar-
gain, and I want it certified, you know. Let it be
something handsome, and in most fashionable shape.
Give us a sample of your best style; you understand
what sort of people we are, Beans."

"Yes," said I to myself, "I understand. This is the
same Tongs ; no improvement, no repentance, no con-
science, the same brassy Tongs. Certainly he shall
have a certificate of marriage." Whereupon I pre-
pared one for him of which the following is a copy :

This is to certify that one Sennacherib and a certain Polly
Muggins became by marriage a pair of Tongs on April 30 in
the city of Mudville.

This is to certify further, that I made no charge against
the said S. Tongs and the unsaid P. Muggins for uniting
them in matrimony. I donated my five days spent in making
the round trip, which, at the rates of a common cobbler would
have been only $5.00; I gave the service of Bucephalus, worth
not more than $3.75; I performed the ceremony free; I con-
tributed $2.50 required for my wayfare along the route; I
made a present of 10 cents to the negro boy for valuable guid-
ance rendered ; I took no account of other expenses demanded
by the aforesaid Tongs' stipulations ; for I can borrow enough
money to keep my creditors from arresting me.

I still further certify that when curious people, who have
discovered that there was no fee in the case, contend that
Tongs couldn't pay his taxes, that he was broke, and that he
married to get help, I always state that I made no charge ; that
I gave my time, my mule, my services, and my money ; that
I have no bill against Tongs ; and that if I were summoned
to his deathbed, there would be no charge for my time, serv-
ice, or mule ; while all expenses would be donated in so worthy
a cause, and the funeral would be without fee.

Given under my hand and seal without charge or fee.

H. Beans.

Sennacherib Tongs Weds 281

In one round seven days, a registered letter, post-
marked "Mudville," made me richer by $11.35 — the
sum of the figures named in my certificate.

And as I looked at this my first real fee for the con-
solidation of two hearts and lives into one, I wondered
when the consolidation process was going to happen
to Polytechnic and me. It was the full swing of
Springtime. Flowers were everywhere — along the
wayside, in the meadow, on the hills, in the woods,
growing in pots, opening in vases, blooming on maid-
ens' cheeks. Wreaths of beauty, songs of joy, scenes
of glory everywhere! Oh, that I were married!
Hadn't I the hardest luck in the world?

/ BECOME A MARRIED MAN

Chapter XXIII.

I SAT in my room in my home at Shakerag ponder-
ing, as I always did before undertaking any great or
momentous adventure. The sum of my cogitations
was most joyful. Yes, said I, to myself, Moses was
the meekest man, Samson was the strongest, Methu-
selah the oldest, Solomon the wisest, but Heredity
Beans is by long odds the happiest. Sure enough?
Yes, this Wednesday, the 15th day of June; this is
the day Polytechnic Campbell chose as the one on
which she would become Mrs. Heredity Beans. The
marriage moment is to be eight o'clock in the evening.
Just think of it!! At that hour she will be forever
merged into another ; Polytechnic Campbell will depart
and Mrs. Beans arrive. At eight o'clock — let's see,
what time is it now? Great lightningrods, it is six al-
ready ! Only two hours of sixty minutes each — that's
one hundred and twenty minutes — left before the wed-
ding. Hurrah for the Beans family and three cheers
for its greatest member, the Reverend Heredity ! Hur-
rah for —

Bang! Bang! Bang! Who's knocking at the

door? "Come in," I yelled, and the door opened. In

walked the church treasurer, Mr. Squeeze. He wore

his most financial smile and bore in his pudgy fist his
(282)

I Become a Married Man 283

monthly report. I knew what that meant and my hi-
larity went down like the mercury in the bottom of a
thermometer out of which the bottom had dropped.
He was come to owe me my salary — and this my wed-
ding-night, too. I sighed and Mr. Squeeze deposited
before my eyes his account of the church's dealings
with me. It said :

PASTOR'S SALARY ACCOUNT.
I bu. black-eyed peas $ o 60

1 bu. corn 75

2 loads fodder 80

I load shucks 15

1 speckled rooster , . 30

3 ganders i 50

2 drakes 70

5 strings red pepper 60

2 bu. onions i 50

I pair goats 4 00

1 half doz, grindstones 5 00

2 tomcats, warranted mousers, extra stripe on tails. . 3 36^
I sheepskin for saddle 50

I pk. peanuts 45

I pair knit suspenders 50

I corn-cob, extra size for pipe, red 05

I pair shoe-strings, goat skin 05

3 comforts, 75 cents each 2 25

30 pair socks, at 12^ cts. per pair 3 75

I hickory walking-stick 20

r bundle quill toothpicks lO

I corkscrew (not the Beans type) 15

I second-hand curry-comb 30

Cash I 60

Total amount due to June 15 $29 16^

When T had perused the above bill of lading, the

284 Good Gumption

treasurer handed me the $i.6o in cash — mostly pen-
nies— remarking as he did so, "Old Doodle Town is
true to her obligations." Yes, thought I, as some
men count truth; and looking through my little win-
dow, I turned my ophthalmics toward Job's Coffin, un-
consciously whistling,

I want to be an angel
For Polytechnic was already one. Then, with the
magnanimity of a man that had approached angeldom,
I returned the bill to the treasurer with the suggestion
that he send the invoice and the goods to the Orphan
Asylum.

I walked calmly and slowly out into the back yard,
and took a seat on the root of a red-oak tree. Then
T soliloquized. I shall in a few minutes become a
double man. I happily shall become the slave of a
cherub ; to her I will surrender the freedom of my will,
the control of my money, the exercise of my brains,
the use of my time, the love of my heart, and the serv-
ice of my mule, on the sole condition that she make me
do as I please. "Abandon hope, ye that enter here;"
"Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This
is the state of man."

Then I solemnly returned to the little room that T
had occupied before accepting work at Doodle Town,
and located for half an hour before the looking-glass,
trying to make an ugly phiz appear respectable. If
I could have had another half hour, I think I would
have done it, but the time was up for my departure to
Coon Hollow. I tied my cravat hastily (I wonder
why a man is always in a hurry on his wedding-day,
when he has so many years to prepare beforehand),

I Become a Married Man 285

put on my coat, drew on my kids, jumped into my
father's old buggy, and applied a royal hickory to
Bucephalus, as a necessary part of the programme.

How it sped! I don't mean Bucephalus, but time.
It was already nearly eight o'clock, while I was still
several miles from my journey's end. My beast had
not caught the spirit of the occasion, for he was un-
usually slow. In order to make better progress, I
stood up, holding the reins firmly in one hand, and
grasping the rod of discipline in the other, and sang,
as my mule assumed an enforced gallop, the following
stanzas of an old nursery rhyme :

I love my mammy,

I love my daddy,
I love my sweetheart

Better'n anybody.

The rain come wet me;

The sun come dry me.
Take care, ugly girl,

Don't come nigh me.

As I drove through the main street of Toadville, I
had not forgotten to make proper arrangements to
celebrate the glad occasion toward which I moved.
Putting the reins around my neck, and seizing moth-
er's dinner bell in one hand, and a cow bell in the
other, I started the wedding music, making all the
joyous fuss and all the hymeneal tintinnabulations that
these instruments could produce. The people flocked
to the street, boys stood on gateposts, maidens looked
out of windows, Toothpick Wheazles stood on the
post office steps, dogs barked and howled, cows lowed,
the crowd cheered, my bells rang, and — Bucephalus

286 Good Gumption

ran away. It was a most unpropitious time for an ac-
cident, but mules have not a very nice sense of pro-
priety, and as a result, my buggy was turned over and
I was left in a wayside ditch, which fortunately was
dry. When I crawled up to the road again, Bucepha-
lus was grazing twenty-five yards from me, as if
nothing had happened. I righted the vehicle (which
seemed not to be damaged) and again went on my
happy way.

Arriving at Coon Hollow a little late, I found every-
body waiting but myself. Indeed I was not ready by
several minutes. In my exertion to bring Bucepha-
lus to a proper discharge of his duty, I had burst irrep-
arably my right glove. Now this may seem a small
matter to a man who is not about to be married; but
when it's after the hour for the ''solemnization of
matrimony," and all are faultlessly gloved, it is quite
a serious matter to the bridegroom. There being no
space for deliberation, I put the left glove on my right
hand, though the little finger wasn't a perfect fit for
my thumb, stuck my left hand into my pocket, holding
my arm akimbo for Polytechnic's clasp — and was
ready for the fray.

The preacher was standing in front of the fireplace,
and the spectators had taken their position on each
side of the room, looking wisely at each other, and
occasionally smiling. In my haste, and in the dark-
ness of the hall in which the bridal party formed, I
somewhat unceremoniously grabbed what I thought
was the bride, and against her earnest remonstrance
and most emphatic protestation, which I took to 1:»e
but a manifestation of excessive modesty and embar-

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288 Good Gumption

rassment, dragged her before the clergyman. For
some reason, the minister was unable to begin the
ceremony, and was convulsed with secret laughter,
which I attributed to the attitude my gloveless hand
had to assume, but the others, too, had caught the hu-
morous fit — some of them leaning against the wall,
shaking; others stuffing their handkerchiefs down
their throats, wheezing. Just then I chanced to look
up, and behold! it was Mrs. Campbell. The mistake
was soon corrected, and Polytechnic, standing with
me before the hymeneal altar, became my wife.

This was too much for me. Glory had gotten ripe.
Livingston relates that Sekwebu, an African savage,
could not endure the splendor of the vessel on which
he embarked for England, and, overcome by the won-
ders of European civilization, his overtaxed mind gave
way, and at the first landing the untutored pagan slid
down the anchor cable into the sea, never to be seen
again. Marriage had somewhat the same efTect on
me. I was dazed. Polytechnic had just vowed in the.
presence of witnesses to be mine so long as we both
should live. Every ringlet of her beautiful hair, every
eyelash, and every filament of her eyebrows, all for-
ever mine! This exceeded even the utmost reach of
my imagination ; so raising my hands toward the ceil-
ing, I sat down in the middle of the f^oor and laughed.

Next morning, the happiest mortal on whom ever
shone the quenchless sun, with Polytechnic by my
side, chirping like a bird, I started of¥ to Doodle
Town. Bucephalus himself seemed mirthful, as
sweetly sped the morning hours. Every tree was a
prophet of joy; every blade of grass a poem; every

I Become a Married Man 289

flower a benediction ; and every rippling brook a choir
of celestial symphonies. A trifle after twilight, we ar-
rived at Doodle Town; where, in the little cottage I
had rented, the brethren and sisters awaited us with
greetings of joy. We found the table nicely spread
and an excellent meal ready.

After tea was over, I heard a terrible hullaballoo at
the front door; and on opening it discovered, to my
great astonishment, an army of besiegers, bearing in
their hands an indescribable variety of bundles, boxes,
and bags. Onward rushed the invaders, until passage,
parlor, and dining-room were full. I sought seats for
the great multitude ; but alas ! I had but three chairs
to my name, besides a spittoon and a blacking-box, all
of which I freely offered for public use. Polytechnic,
with that wondrous instinct of woman, set to work
dispassionately to arrange the generous bestowments
of our friends, as if nothing unusual had happened.
Not so with me. Carried away with gratitude to the
unexpected visitors, and feeling it incumbent upon
me to "make a few remarks," I gracefully — Polytech-
nic says it was graceful — mounted a lately-arrived
barrel of flour and discoursed.

''Dearly beloved brethren," said I, ''with hearty

thanks for your unexpected and unspeakable goodness,

allow me to hope that prosperity commensurate with

your charity may return in ample showers on your

heads, and that my marriage may prove as great a

public blessing as private. Moreover — " here the head

of the half-filled barrel fell in, and my oratory came

to an abrupt pause, all hands agreeing, however, that

the speaker was very floury.
19

A PASTORAL VISIT

Chapter XXIV

When Aristotle Squat, one of my flock, passed
away, of course, the Squat family went into deep
mourning, adapting the latest fashions to the black-
ness of darkness. If the broken-hearted love darkness
rather than light, and think they can retain the mem-
ory of the dead better in the black folds of a dress or
in the ebon meshes of a veil, and at the same time, with
a degree of philanthropy, encourage the art of the
modiste, it would seem nobody's business but their
own. Everything about the Squat home and garb was
solid black — black as an intensified crow. Black dress-
es, black collars, black bonnets, black earrings and
hairpins, black toothbrush, black-edged cards, envel-
opes, and handkerchiefs, a black dog, and a black cat.
This Is first-class, deep mourning, highly respectable
and proper, and reminds people that the family has
had a funeral at their house — and that's worth con-
siderable.

This state of things lasted with Mrs. Squat six

weeks, and then a lilac flower bloomed in her bonnet,

and spotted dresses took the place of black. The spots,

tiny at first, kept getting larger and larger, until the

black disappeared, and the mourner wore bright colors

again.

(290)

A Pastoral Visit 291

As I was going down to the post office in Doodle
Town one morning, I chanced to meet Mrs. Squat —
whose tongue wagged six times while her brain
wagged once — decked in flounces, feathers, and flow-
ers, as happy as a lark when he carols his grateful
song in a cloudless sky. Alas, poor Squat! The
grass had not yet performed its kindly offices over his
grave, nor had the neighbors ceased to speak of his
last illness — but his memory with his wife was no
more.

"Why, Mr. Beans!" exclaimed the happy widow,
in surprise, as she confronted me on the sidewalk.

"Why, Mrs. Squat!" said I, in equal astonishment,
though from a different cause.

"Mr. Beans," said she; "I'm goin' to be honest with
you, because you are my pastor, and the only spiritual
adviser I have, now that dear, sainted Mr. Squat is
dead an' gone. Yes, Mr. Beans, I must speak my
mind plainly, if you does be a preacher; for I have
learned by sad experience that preachers is humant as
well as other folks, and is jest as liable to faults as us
who don't make sich pretensions in spiritual things.
I must say, Mr. Beans, I'se been thinkin' mighty hard
of you for not comin' to see me oftener in my deep,
terrible affliction since I'se been left a lone and for-
saken widow. Poor Mr. Squat breathed his last breath
of life nine weeks ago yestiddy, an' you hain't dark-
ened my door but twict in that time — an' I a poor,
afflicted, feminine widow!"

"My dear madam, you show affliction as lightly as
any one I ever saw. I am sure, if affliction is a dis-
ease, you will speedily and permanently recover. You

292 Good Gumption

are convalescing grandly now. I am not conscious of
having neglected you ; on the contrary, I have paid you
really more attention than your case demanded, call-
ing several times when you were either visiting or wit-
nessing a baseball match."

"But my poor, fatherless children are at home now
sick. My Tom has the toothache, an' Peggy has the
scratches. An' you ain't been nigh 'em, Mr. Beans !"
sighed the widow, reproachfully.

''Madam," said I, somewhat impatiently, "sick chil-
dren need either a nurse or a physician more than a
minister, and I presume you are now going for Dr.
Fyddlestycks. If so, you can return at once to give
attention to the children, and I shall notify the doctor."

"Now, Mr. Beans, don't scold me," said the widow,
coquettishly. "Don't scold me; for I must tell the
truth: I have been worried and pestered by a set of
young folks, till I consented to jine 'em in a picnic to-
day. Now pray don't scold me, Mr. Beans."

"You are to be pitied rather than scolded, madam.
For the sake of decency, go home and take off your
gaudy riggings, scrape the paint off your face, empty
your bottle of hair dye, wash the children, and say
your prayers."

But the gay little widow of poor Squat seemed not
to be seeking advice that day, and sped away to join
a band of revelers. Poor Squat! dead, buried, and
forgotten! Nine weeks — just nine weeks — and the
desolate, weeping, broken-hearted wife is as active as
the busy bee, seeking another to take poor Squat's
place. Again I say, poor Squat!

Not more than two weeks elapsed before I took oc-

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294 Good Gumption

casion to call on the relict of the lamented Squat. She
met me at the door with the usual list of complaints,
bewailing her sad loss in the demise of poor Squat.

"Well, Mr. Beans, have you come at last? Who
would av thought it? I was sure you had forgotten
me ! If I wuz rich es some of 'em, you'd er been here
afore this, I 'lowed to Mr. Gripens t'other day."

At the mention of the harmonious name of Gripens
the remainder of poor Squat blushed as innocently as
a girl of forty. Only eleven weeks, but Gripens was
hopeful, and the widow trustful.

"Mrs. Squat,'' said I, in an authoritative voice, "I
have come this evening, not to make a social call, but
for pastoral visitation." The widow looked serious.
"I wish you to summon all the children to the sitting-
room, that we may spend the evening in religious ex-
ercises." The hostess cleared her throat as if about
to choke.

The children were soon brought, each reluctantly
taking possession of a corner of the room, for fear I
might be carnivorous. As the mother returned
through the back porch, I heard her whisper softly
and pathetically to some one there.

"It's nobody but that horrid preacher," I heard her
say, 'T don't know what he wants always to come
pokin' here for, anyhow. But he won't stay long ; just
wait a few minutes, Mr. Gripens."

I thought I understood enough of human nature to
read in the widow's countenance the fact that I had
interrupted a most interesting interview between her-
self and the gentleman on the porch. It was clear to
my mind that matters were approaching a crisis in the

A Pastoral Visit 295

way of popping the question, if indeed the question
had not already been popped. At all events, I have
seldom had so good an opportunity to divert myself,
and I used it to the best advantage.

"Mrs. Squat," said I, in truly pastoral manner, "it
has been some time since I conversed with you on
spiritual things, and inasmuch as your heart has been
greatly softened and mellowed by adversity, I should
like you to relate your Christian experience since the
decease of your lamented husband. I may be able to
help you."

The "crushed" relict put her scented handkerchief
to her tearless eyes, as if too grieved to speak, con-
scious that Gripens was listening eagerly, and would
not be likely to appreciate an exaltation of poor Squat.

"Ah ! madam," said I, in a loud voice, so that Grip-
ens could hear distinctly, "I see that you loved that
man as you can never love another. Yes, Mrs. Squat,
you will never look upon his like again, and you will
no doubt be faithful enough to his memory never to
marry."

I could hear Gripens twisting in his chair furiously.
Mrs. S. spoke not, and I continued :

"I assure you, madam, I am delighted to know,
from present indications, notwithstanding a current
rumor, that you are wise enough to view a proposition
of marriage with disfavor, if not with disgust; for you
will have all your energies taxed to care for your chil-
dren. And, too, you have gotten to that age when the
question of matrimony should be irrelevant. I sup-
pose you will soon have an appropriate tombstone
erected to the memory of poor Squat."

296 Good Gumption

Here Gripens' chair slipped, but the poor fellow
soon recovered himself.

"Now," said I, "I shall catechise the children a lit-
tle, to see if they are proficient in Biblical truths.
Poker," continued I, addressing myself to a half-
wild boy in the corner behind me, "please repeat the
Ten Commandments."

"Never seed 'em, sir," replied Poker, putting his
hands in his pockets.

"Then, Peggy, be kind enough to call over the
plagues of Egypt."

"I dunno, sir, 'cep'n' hit was the smallpox an' yaller
fever; or might be, the cholery."

"Well, Tom, perhaps you can tell me who were the
twelve sons of Jacob."

"He hain't got but seven sons and two gals," said
Tom.

"Which Jacob do you mean, Tom?"

"Ole Uncle Jake Gripens," replied he.

Alore twisting and turning on the back porch, while
inside the little widow was gasping for breath.

"Snap," said I, turning to the youngest boy, "per-
haps we can do better with the New Testament. Now
name, like a smart boy, the twelve Apostles."

"I dunno zackly what you's atter," snapped Snap,
licking out his tongue and drawing a long breath;
"but ole Uncle Jake Gripens has got er sow down in
the meadow with twelve pigs, but I dunno what thar
name is. Uncle Jake says how he's gwine to give me
an' Poke an' Tom one when him an' ma gits married."

"Snap," said T, with fatherly tenderness, "never,
even in jest, use such shocking language again. You

A Pastoral Visit 297

astonish me. I know, my dear boy, you are only try-
ing to tease your bereaved mother, to get her mind
off of her recent sorrow ; but some things should not
be mentioned ; and under the circumstances, marriage
is one of them. Consider, my boy, your mother's gray
hairs and broken heart; then, too, you should not
speak so lightly of dear old father Gripens. Poor old
man, he is not long for this world ! Now, Mrs. Squat,
please light the lamp ; I wish to read a couple of pas-
sages from the Scriptures."

I turned to the prophets and read about the valley
of dry bones; then to the epistles, and read Paul's
chapter on widows, and several portions having refer-
ence to the training of children. I heard, as I closed
the Bible, a faint sound on the porch, which indicated,
on the part of Gripens, an expectation of my speedy
departure. But^I had been remorselessly taken to task
for pastoral neglect of this home, and, so far as it lay
in my power, I purposed to make amends.

"Tom, my boy, please put up Bucephalus," said I.
'T have found the evening so pleasant that I have de-
cided to stay to tea."

The widow wilted; and in a moment I descried in
the deepening twilight, as I looked through the par-
tially-opened blinds, the bent and disconsolate form of
Gripens making for the yard gate. Mrs. Squat has
never, so far as I am aware, complained of my not
paying her sufficient pastoral attention since.

Gripens doesn't speak to me. And Mrs. Squat still
is Mrs. Squat.

CUPID GONE MAD

Chapter XXV.

And now I must tell you how I survived a marriage
epidemic that struck Doodle Town two years after 1
took charge of the Eden Church, in that delectable
hamlet. The visitation was short but sharp. While it
lasted it was terrific in its force. What started the
disease is not known ; indeed, no one had the temerity
to even attempt a solution of the problem, but I here
make affidavit that, once started, the plague spread
with remarkable rapidity through the region round-
about Doodle Town. It seized chiefly upon widows and
widowers, old people and children, bachelors and an-
cient girls, bringing them in grotesque pairs to the hy-
meneal altar. Just why such ill-matched persons wish
to get married is one of the world's great puzzles —
but I accept the mystery and rule philosophizing out
of order. And so to resume the narrative:

One night, as I sat in my study meditating over the
mysteries of life, a quick tap at the door aroused me
from my dreamful thoughts, and shook shadowy prob-
lems from my brain.

"Come in !" said I.

And there entered a maiden lady, on whose brow
had sported the joyous zephyrs of at least sixty-five
summers, followed by a timid youth of seventeen.
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300 Good Gumption

"Is your son sick?" inquired I, scanning the pale
face of the boy.

"Merty, no!" exclaimed the ancient girl, in amaze-
ment and horror. *'How odd you are, Mr. Beans!"
(putting her fan to her chin and giggling). ''I want
you to marry me."

"I'm already married, madam; and should I ever
enter into matrimony again, I am reasonably satisfied
that I should select a lady without a son quite so large
as this lad. So please excuse me."

"Mr. Beans, you do not exactly understand Miss
Oldfossil," here interposed the youth. "She and /
are to be married, as you will see from this license."

I held my breath for a few moments in astonish-
ment and consternation, not knowing whether to cred-
it my sense or not, until I discovered that the law au-
thorized the marriage of Mr. Young Jaybird to Miss
Ann Oldfossil. I commanded the couple to stand be-
fore me. and summoned Polytechnic to witness the
ceremony.

"Miss Oldfossil, I address you first," said I, most
solemnly, "because you are the responsible contract-
ing party, being, I presume, of age, and the perpetra-
tor of this mockery of marriage. Of course, you
knew from the time you began your attentions to this
youth, that the material of which husbands are made
was not in him, and that he never could rise superior
to a third-rate husbandhood. For a moderate sum,
you readily could have hired the lad to do your er-
rands and make himself useful thus securing his re-
spect as well as his labor. He would make a model
waiting boy. but as a husband he is sure to be a failure.

Cupid Gone Mad 301

'The All-wise God never designed that such con-
trary interests and tastes should be united in wedlock,
but that marriage should be a joy and a blessing,
heaven's own benison, to both parties, and that they
twain should be one flesh — one in hope, one in love,
one in purpose and life. The laws of nature forbid
that either you or this youth should entertain for each
other marital love ; and hence, they forbid you to mar-
ry. You wed him, either because you never had an
opportunity to wxd before, or because you want a
lackey in your old age. He marries you because he is
too lazy to work for his living, expecting you to die
and bequeath him your property after a few months,
or because he is by nature an idiot. So, therefore, he's
either a knave of a fool. I cannot conscientiously per-
form the customary marriage service, l)ut I can so
unite you that the boy can get the property by law —
the chief point of interest to him, Tm sure.

"Therefore, Miss Oldfossil, do you promise to take
this child to be your adopted son, to protect, govern,
feed, clothe, and nurse him, so long as ye both shall
live?"

"I do!" resolutely.

*'Mr. Jaybird, do you promise to take this old lady
to be your grandmother, to pick up chips, make fires,
mind the calf, follow, and obey her, so long as ye both
shall live ?"

"I do," faintly and with hesitation.

"Seeing ye have consented to live together as grand-
mother and grandson, I pronounce you a pair of luna-
tics. Suffer this word of exhortation, and then de-
part in peace : Be grateful, madam, to this infant for

302 Good Gumption ^

consenting- to serve you in your old age. Make him
say his prayers and go to church, place him in a crib
by your side o' nights, and occasionally reward his phi-
lanthropy with a sugar rag. You should die at the
end of five years, so that he may get possession of the
property that he will so dearly have won.

''As for you, Jaybird, be a dutiful child; help old
granny make her tea, like a smart boy. And may a
kind fate preserve you from approaching storms, vol-
canoes, and eathquakes. Amen."

"Take this fee, parson," mumbled Jaybird, poking
a fifty-cent piece at me.

"Keep thy silver, son, and purchase a rattle whereon
to cut thy wisdom teeth."

As the bridal party disappeared in the shadows of
the night. Polytechnic, no longer able to restrain her
risible tendencies, made vocal every corner of the par-
sonage. I myself never do so gross a thing as to
laugh on such occasions, but I smiled audibly for half
an hour, dislocating my spine at several important
points. This was the beginning of our epidemic of
marriageitis.

Next morning, bright and early, a dozen or more
buggies drove up to the parsonage, with happy faces
beaming from them. Of course, T did not see them,
for I belong to that class of wise men who never take
advantage of the sun, and that variety of birds whose
ambition does not run in the direction of capturing
the early worm. The news, however, was duly re-
ported to me, and I soon met at the front door a com-
pany consisting of twenty-six persons — two middle-
aged ; the rest of all ages. I met them with a smile —

Cupid Gone Mad 303

and by the way, one of the hardest things I am called
on to do is to wear a perpetual smile. But I wore it.

"Good morning!" said I. "Fine day for a picnic!
I see you've brought the Sunday school along. Sorry
I can't join you, but really it will be impossible to-day,
as I have an engagement in quite a different quarter.
Fine day, though !"

All was still as death, and it seemed the most sol-
emn squad of picnickers I ever beheld. The intense
silence was at length broken by the man who was ap-
parently the leader of the party.

"Parson," said he, bashfully, "this it not a picinc.
It's somethin' more serious, parson."

"Ah!" sighed I, "I am the most unfortunate of
mortals. I might have known from the array of ve-
hicles that it was a funeral procession. Please pardon
my obtuseness. Bring the corpse into the sitting-
room, and we'll have service there."

"Parson," said the man, stammering, "it hain't no
p-p-p-picnic nor f-f-f-funeral. Hit's er m-m-m-mar-
riage! These young uns is ourn — thirteen mine,
'leben hern."

"Bless me!" said I, lifting my hands in astonish-
ment. "I thought men paired off; I didn't know they
swarmed. But without further comment, I pronounce
you man and woman. I advise you to remove to some
of the territories, rent a martin-box, and write a trea-
tise on the woes of wedlock."

Two days later the marriage mania came to a focus.
It was a custom in Doodle Town and vicinity for the
marriage ceremony to be performed at the parsonage.
This, so far as the preacher was concerned, was a

304 Good Gumption

benevolent arrangement, since the fees on such occa-
sions were considered by everybody — except the min-
ister— as marks of vulgarity. So, after breakfast, on
the day in question, a couple came to my study to be
united in the bonds of matrimony. The man came
hobbling up the steps, aided by a rude hickory stick
on one side, and a handsome girl on the other. He
consisted mainly of a wig, three molar teeth, two
arms, one paralyzed, the other palsied; one leg, the
other having been amputated in the war of 1812; and
one glass eye. In addition to the attractions just
named, he was deaf, and partly blind in the eye that
remained; in a word, he was just such a man as the
average girl would not fancy for a husband. But
then, he had several hundred dollars invested in a
western railroad company, and the name of being rich.
This fact covered the multitude of his other short-
comings.

"Parson," gasped the well-nigh exhausted veteran,
*T wants you to marry me and this gal."

"Sir," said I, bawling in his deaf ear, "you are a
relic of barbarism, and should be arrested and placed
in the hands of the Society for the Prevention of Cru-
elty to Animals. You know well enough, sir, that this
fresh but foolish girl never could, save for the hope
of gain, tolerate such a decayed and rickety affair as
yourself. There would be but one possible consola-
tion for her, and that would be the hope of your
speedy removal to another and distant clime. No,
sir; if you wish to employ this girl as nurse, and will
her your property, well enough ; but as for the ridicu-
lous farce of marriage. Til commit no such folly."

Cupid Gone Mad 305

"Child," said I, turning to the intended wife, "you
have plenty of time to wait for a respectable offer of
marriage. Go home and play with your dolls awhile,
and never dream of marrying a funeral like this again.
You cannot afiford to spend the bloom of your life in
fixing plasters on an old man's back, and taking him
to pieces every night and putting him up every morn-
ing. No, child ; take the remains of what was once
a man to the undertaker's for measurement, and then,
kindly leaving him at the apothecary's for repairs,
depart in peace."

Next morning the marriage notice of the above-
mentioned parties appeared in the "Doodle Town
Times," 'Squire Grabfee officiating.

I am satisfied, after ample observation, that three-
fourths of the girls of the present day, rather than be
old maids, will consider favorably the attentions of a
scarecrow, or marry a pair of tongs, if dressed in
breeches. But that's none of my business.

20

A SACK OF SOCKS

Chapter XXVI.

How did I happen to become the pastor of Top-
lofty Church in the city of Goalong? I was called, of
course, but thereby hangs a tale, for it was more than
three years after I preached my trial sermon to the
members of Toplofty that the summons to me was
extended. Actually, at the time I received it I almost
had forgotten I ever had been in Goalong and the diffi-
culties I had encountered in getting there and staying
there. And thereby hangs another tale, to the telling
of which I now address myself.

One fine, never-to-be-forgotten day I betook me to
the Doodle Town post office to see what Uncle Sam's
mail had in store for me — not that I received many
letters, but that I always lived in expectation of get-
ting a call to some big church in some big city, a call,
indeed, to a field where my peculiar and great abilities
(as estimated by myself, my wife, my father, and my
mother) might have full swing. Some day, I felt,
my merit must be recognized. And so on this day
when I went to the post office and the postmaster
handed me a letter bearing the imprint of "Toplofty
Church, City of Goalong," I believed that at last it
had come. With swelling chest and uptilting chin I
marched out of the office to read my letter. It said :
(306)

A Sack of Socks 307

City of Goalong, June 5. -
Rev. H. Beans, Doodle Town.

Dear Sir and Brother:

Toplofty Church is without a pastor, and I am in-
structed by the Board of Deacons to invite you to
preach for us on the first Sabbath in July, with view
to a call.

Your expenses will be arranged for, etc. Hoping
to receive a favorable response, I am,

Yours fraternally, Harmonious Sing.

Ah, thought I, exuhingly, Toplofty Church — in the
city of Goalong — 125,000 inhabitants — big town — I'm
invited to preach by a board of deacons — what is a
board of deacons? Well, no matter! I'm invited to
preach — with a view to a call !

Such were the pleasing reflections that flitted on
hope's golden wing through the realms of the inner
man of the Reverend Heredity Beans. Immediately
I rushed down the street, with elastic tread, to borrow
a stamp to return a "favorable response." Ah me!
I found no one to sympathize with me in my delirium
of joy. Nobody could lend me a stamp. It is true, as
I stopped in at the Slim Diet Hotel, Pollikins, the
grocer, a capitalist in a small way, and a leading citi-
zen of Doodle Town, offered to furnish a stamp if I
would secure it by a mortgage on Bucephalus. Such
a measure seemed disparaging to my faithful mule,
and not altogether complimentary to myself; but,
under the necessity that knows no law, the papers
were formally drawn up and properly signed. My
letter was soon in the oflfice, assuring Mr. Harmonious
Sing that I did not have the heart to decline the press-
ing invitation tendered me by the board of deacons.

308 Good Gumption

Where is the man who can refuse the soHcitaticns of
a board of deacons representing a $3,000 salary, when
said man hasn't funds enough to mail a letter or buy
a box of blacking?

My next care was to select a couple of my best ser-
mons, and practice them. Accordingly, I sauntered
off at early morn to a stretch of pasture land about a
mile and a half from Doodle Town, where I retired
to a cluster of trees, mounted a gum stump for a ros-
trum, lifted my eyes toward the rising sun, and began
to let off. The words flowed like a wild mountain tor-
rent as it sweeps on in thunders to the plain below,
my voice waxed louder and louder, like the sea's deep
roar when a storm is shrieking in the sky, while my
gestures became with each burning -sentence more
fiercely sublime, culminating every ten minutes in a
rhetorical and elocutionary fit.

At the conclusion of one of my noblest rhapsodies,
I opened my bewildered eyes, and behold ! a flock of
sheep, attracted by my oratory, had gathered around
me, and with ears bent forward and heads erect, were
trying to take in the situation. Finding, however,
that my eloquence was not seasoned with salt, my un-
gracious audience, wagging their tails, scampered off,
bleating, ''Bah! bah! bah!" Not altogether willing
to admit that my graceless congregation had pulled
the wool over my eyes, I am, nevertheless, constrained
to confess that I .returned home feeling somewhat
sheepish.

But I was satisfied that I could preach for Top-
lofty. That was the least difficult question to be solved.
I must have something to preach in when T go to so

A Sack of Socks 309

great a place as the city of Goalong ; for it would never
do to mingle with polished throngs, arrayed in silk
and satin and broadcloth, dressed in my old thread-
bare Sunday suit. Never! That's what Polytechnic
said, anyhow.

"What shall I do for a new pulpit suit, Polytech-
nic?" said I to my little wife, who evidently was striv-
ing to solve the problem.

"Take up a collection," answered the little woman,
thinking she had mastered the situation.

"AMiy! dove, a collection won't pay now for the
wear and tear on the deacons' hats. Don't you re-
member that the collection last Sunday for foreign
missions amounted to just five cents, and you con-
tributed that? No: that will never do. We must
mortgage or sell something. Do I own anything but
you and Bucephalus?"

"Indeed you do, Red! You own a bright future,"
said the little woman, whose soul seemed to he made
of sunshine. "And the day is not distant when you
will move in the sphere for which God created you,
and when our present poverty will vanish as a specter
before substantial blessings."

I felt sad, but at length, concluding there might be
some truth in my wife's prophecy, I asked: "How
many pairs of socks have I in the garret?" For I had
an idea I thought might settle my troubles.

"Red, what on earth are you thinking about?"
laughed the hopeful but puzzled little wife.

"Never mind: how many?"

"Dear me ; I don't know. There are a great many —
about two trunkfuls I think — for you have received

310 Good Gumption

most of your salary in socks for the last eight months.
But, pray, what has started you oft' on socks?"

"I'm going to pay my way to the city of Goalong
with them, and there get a suit of clothes on credit."

"Why can't you get it on credit here ?" asked Poly-
technic, recovering from a convulsion of laughter.

"Because I already owe every man in the town ex-
cept the undertaker, and haven't the face to ask more
indulgence," responded I.

So, hastily repairing to the garret, Polytechnic's
whole face lighted up with merriment, her eyes spark-
ling with fun, we found the socks by actual count to
number four hundred and seventy-nine pairs. This
number I deemed sufficient to justify my taking the
train for Goalong.

Bidding Polytechnic adieu, as she proudly exhorted
me to do my best at Toplofty, I rode to the station and
asked for a minister's ticket to Goalong.

"$8.35," said the laconic man, as he handed me a
ticket.

"Sir," said I, bashfully, "I have zeal and I have
knowledge, but I have no money; I have, however, a
sack of socks. \\'ill you take pay in socks ?"

The agent screwed his spectacles on his thin nose,
leveled them at me, and sighed. At length, recover-
ing from the shock, he gasped, "Where in whiskers
did you come from, anyhow?"

"I am the Bishop of Doodle Town," said T. calmly.

"Who is the Bishop of Doodle Town ?" inquired the
agent, sarcastically.

"Myself," rejoined T, meekly.

"Who are you, then?"

A Sack of Socks 311

"The Bishop of Doodle Town."

The thin-nosed man tried to get mad, but in spite
of himself, he obeyed the better law of his nature, and
broke out into a laugh.

"What would the railroad do with your socks?"
said he.

"Wear them. They are good socks, home knit.
Look at a pair."

The weary man examined the specimen pair lan-
guidly, and then passed them back to me, saying sym-
pathetically, "I would like to accommodate you, but
the railroad don't wear socks."

"Then buy them yourself," insisted I.

"How many pairs would it take to amount to

$8.35 ?"

"Well, let me see," said I, making a mental calcu-
lation ; "at twelve and a half cents it would take about
sixty-seven pairs."

"Whew!" whistled the agent; "I don't care to go
into the wholesale sock business."

"But see here," said I, growing both serious and
wise ; "see here, agent, you are an important factor in
the great railway business of this glorious land — the
land of plenty and the home of liberty. This, sir, is
heaven's favored clime, in whose liquid sunshine the
great American eagle, on wings of fire, shrieks in the
ears of the admiring universe 'E pluribus unum !' In
this land, sir, the garden spot of the earth, the birth-
place of genius, and the cradle of colossal railroads — in
this land, sir, you live and of its heroic people are a
component part. Sir, you are a man — and what would
this world do without men? In the language of the

312 Good Gumption

immortal poet, I say, calmly, deliberately, and em-
phatically, 'It couldn't navigate worth a cent!' It is
in your power, sir, to .carve your name on the topmost
round of the ladder of benevolence, and to reap a
golden harvest of fame. I implore you, sir, by the re-
splendent record of this great republic, to do some-
thing worthy of your country and of your forefa-
thers."

The appeal was not in vain. The spellbound vendor
of tickets, swelling out to those dimensions that be-
come a citizen of this vast government, having ad-
justed his spectacles, put his thumbs under his sus-
penders, transferred his quid of tobacco to the other
side of his mouth, and imagining himself to be a fu-
ture president of a great railroad, if not of the United
States, inquired eagerly, "What kin I do?"

"Do? Why, take these sixty-seven pairs of socks
and send them as a generous gift to an orphan asylum ;
and generations yet unborn will breathe upon your
memory an immortal benediction."

"Great Snakes! I'll take 'em," exclaimed the man
of generous impulses and human tendencies.

My ticket paid for, I was soon on the panting iron
horse, guarding the balance of my socks, and speeding
hopefully on for the city of Goalong. The jocund
hours (I believe that's the way the writers put it)
sped on likewise, as I fancied the hearty reception I
was to receive when the train stopped at my destina-
tion. I pictured the board of deacons rushing into
the car, each striving to reach me first, while the choir
stood on the platform, singing, "Welcome," or "See,
the Conquering Hero Comes." I thought some vener-

A Sack of Socks 313

able sire with flowing gray beard would take me in
his arms, seat me in a coach drawn by four snowy
steeds, and beseech me in mellifluous tones to accept
a call to Toplofty Church. This was but a small part
of the cordial welcome I imagined awaited me.

"City of Goalong!" drawled a dilapidated brakeman
at last, in a high key.

The train stopped. No board of deacons rushed
on. Oh ! thought I, they are waiting for me to get off.
So I lugged my sack of socks, the only purse I had, to
the car steps, and jumped off. I heard no choir, nor
did a gray-haired sire take me in his arms; not even
did Harmonious Sing meet me to advise me where to
stop.

But about forty eager Irish and negro hack-drivers
met me cordially. No man can have "the blues" when
he drops down in a large city, among a host of cab-
men. Each yelled at me as if I were the only being of
importance in the world. I could not hear my ears.
One savage fellow laid violent hands on my purse — I
mean my sack of socks — crying, "This way, sir ! this
way." Another had hold of my arm, leading me in
an opposite direction, singing "All aboard for Saw-
dust Hotel !" Another swung to my coat-tail, declar-
ing I had promised to ride in his 'bus, while a strap-
ping African took quiet possession of my hat, and
mounting his hack, shouted, "Dis way, boss !'' I was
determined not to ride in all the vehicles at one time,
not only because I adhere philosophically to the motto,
"United we stand, divided we fall," but because such
a ride necessarily would be uncomfortable; and if I.
were carried to a dozen hotels simultaneously, my

314 Good Gumption

board would be rather extravagant. So I asked the
Irishman, who was about to dislocate my left arm, if
he could give me a little advice.

"And be sure! Plenty of it, sir," said the son of
Erin.

"Will you be kind enough to tell me how I can get
myself together again?"

"And be sure! If you'll collect your thoughts, I'll
be responsible for the balance, sir, and take you to the
Sawdust Hotel chape."

"Hackman," said I, "I own but little of this world's
goods, and as the Psalmist has remarked, *I am poor
and needy.' I am here by invitation of a board of dea-
cons, to preach at Toplofty Church, as I suppose you
of course have heard, and I would like to have minis-
ters' rates, should I patronize you. What's the best
you can do?"

"And be sure, sir ! Step in. It will cost you little
or nothing, sure !"

I stepped in and in a few moments Pat announced
that we had arrived at the Sawdust Hotel.

"What's your bill?" inquired I, as an honest man,
half suspecting the ruby-nosed Irishman would make
no charge, in view of my ministerial avocation.

"And since you are a clergyman, sure I'll charge
you but five dollars. Chape, sir !"

I sighed, at the same time impressing on Pat's mind
a few thoughts respecting torment. Opening the
mouth of my sack, I transferred five pairs of socks to
Pat's possession, valuing them at a dollar per pair.

"Now, Pat, old boy," said I, to close the deal, "two
pairs of these socks would have been a fair price for

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316 Good Gumption

the ride you have given me, but inasmuch as you are
an honest fellow, and do not follow tricks common to
gentlemen of your profession, I'll reward your piety
by allowing you extra pay."

And therewith I hastened to the register, leaving
Erin's son, notwithstanding my kindness, making ve-
hement gestures with his fists, and speaking disre-
spectfully of me.

Of course, the first thing a philosopher does on ar-
riving at a hotel, is to go to dinner. I am first, last,
and all the time a philosopher, so the waiter promptly
laid a paper by my plate, and put his ear on a parallel
with my mouth.

"What's the matter?" said I.

The waiter made no reply, but pointed to the paper.

*'I don't read advertisements when I'm eating!"
said I, sternly.

"Dat's de bill of fare, sir," smiled the sable at-
tendant.

"Look here, Scipio Africanus, have you the imper-
tinence to present my bill before I have eaten a single
mouthful ? Can't you trust for ten minutes an eccle-
siastic who is here by invitation of a board of deacons
to preach with view to a call? Shocking! shocking!"

A shower of explanations followed, and I ate, after
much tribulation, a dinner that I think will shorten
my life six months.

I made it my first care after dinner to repair to a
barber-shop to get shaved. I found the shop a most
charming place, and the barber a most communicative
and genial companion. It is said that there is no in-
stance in historv of a barber who was either melan-

A Sack of Socks 317

choly or dumb. 1 firmly believe it. I think he knew
enough about me in ten minutes to write exhaustive
biographies of myself, my wife, and my grandparents.
I attempted to answer patiently all of his interrogato-
ries, and am satisfied the mental strain cost me at the
lowest estimate two pounds of flesh.

After the inquisition was over, I inquired the ex-
tent of my obligation, which I learned was ten cents.
I slipped benignly a pair of socks into the tonsorial ar-
tist's extended hand, and mingled with "the madding
crowd's ignoble strife'' once more. An hour after-
wards, as I climl^ed up Central Square Monument, I
espied afar down Locust Street a bareheaded man
squeezing a hair-brush in one hand and holding the
other just above his eyes, as he strained his vision in
the direction I had gone. It was a most interesting
sight, and I wondered what could be the matter.

As I was passing down a back street, my eyes fell
on these words, printed in large capitals above a tent
door :

THE WORLD'S GREATEST WONDER !

WALK IISl

Of course I walked in. Why not ? I was raised in
the country, and never saw many wonders, and here
was a kind invitation to behold the greatest one in the
world. So fine an opportunity of improving myself
I assuredly did not intend to let slip ; hence, commend-
ably enough, I entered into the tent in search of infor-
mation. Under the exciting influence of the hand-
organ, for which I have always had more or less afifec-

318 Good Gumption

tion, my spirits rose to a noble height, when an under-
sized, fat, and filthy Dutchman, claiming to have no
arms, seized a pen in his toes and wrote his name on
a greasy slip of paper, which the same accomplished
toe-writer poked at me, to be preserved forever as a
sacred relic. On Joe Schwartz's name I placed my
self-respecting foot, demanding an explanation.

"This is the only armless living man in either conti-
nent that can write his name wath his toes. He is also
the only man, living or dead, sir, who ever received a
medal for toe-wTiting at the World's Fair," ejaculated
the doorkeeper, demanding of me fifty cents.

'T don't imagine either continent is very proud of
such a pig, and if he proposes to deceive people this
way, the sooner he is sent on a polar expedition or
placed in charge of some enterprising undertaker, the
better."

The doorkeeper growled and the Dutchman swore,
which latter fact proved he wasn't a gentleman.

"Fifty cents, sir !" demanded the offended innocent,
stretching out his hand for filthy lucre.

'T thought, sir," said I, "I came in here under an
invitation that precluded charge ; but if I am mistaken
in your honesty and sincerity, I'll gratify your avarice
by meeting the demand with stoic firmness."

After I had delivered this fitting rebuke, I left a
couple of pairs of socks with the showman, which
caused some remarks I do not care to repeat, and soon
I again was moving with the stream of busy humanity.

Having purchased the "Evening Times" from a
newsboy at the next corner in the same way, I stepped
aboard a street-car to return to the Sawdust Hotel.

A Sack of Socks 319

This was in the days when trolley-cars were unknown
and some of the horse-cars had no conductor, the pas-
sengers dropping their fare into a glass box. The car
was of this sort. Seeing the driver was not permitted
to put the fare in the box, I stepped forward to put it
in myself. I succeeded in stuffing one sock in the box,
when the driver pushed the door back and assumed a
menacing attitude.

"And what are ye stuffin' in there?"
"A pair of socks which I received for salary."
"This company doesn't take socks, sure, sir."
"Then, Pat, if we can't trade, let me off."
The Irishman applied the brake vigorously, and I
stepped off the car just opposite the door of the Saw-
dust Hotel, smiling.

And after I had entered the hotel and had been
handed a telegram that had arrived for me I smiled
some more, and indeed I kept on smiling all that day
and the next. How I managed to preach to the mem-
bers of Toplofty Church I cannot tell, but I know that
I did so and went home. On the journey every once
in a while I took from my pocket the telegram I had
received and read it. It was from my mother-in-law,
and it said :

Come home as soon as you have preached that
sermon, for the baby has arrived.

Do you wonder that I smiled?

NEW RESPONSIBILITIES

Chapter XXVII.

Dear reader, I wish I could make the next para-
graph as incoherent as I feh when I reached home.

It was a boy and I instantly named him Wax. He
had the usual number of fingers and toes, and only one
head. He weighed ten pounds, seven ounces, and
three drachms. He never had been surpassed in the
American market. I was the happiest man on the
habitable globe. 'Twas midnight, but T flew to the
church and pealed the bell loud and long. The popu-
lace rushed out to see what was burning, for the
church bell never spoke at that hour of night unless a
fire had broken out. The fire company paraded the
streets trying to locate the conflagration; aged men
and matrons went about making diligent inquiry, and
maidens hysterically screamed "Fire! Fire!" I told
the people that it was not an alarm bell but a joy bell,
whereupon all hands gathered around and congratu-
lated me, despite the fact that the village had known
the happy news for several days. But then, you see,
I hadn't.

The next thing that demanded immediate attention

was to get my deacons to telegraph the news to the

President and to send a cablegram to Queen Victoria,
(320)

New Responsibilities 321

and other crowned heads of Europe. I did not Hke to
disturb their rest, but it seemed necessary. Although
the baby was three days old I had just arrived and
just seen him. Besides, this event, so fraught with
consequences to all people, should be known in the
world's centers at once. But the deacons wouldn't
spend the money. So I hastened back to the parson-
age and spent the rest of the night standing over my
son and heir and smiling at him. Cubic miles of bliss
surrounded me, floods of delight swept over me,
oceans of joy filled me, and actually I forgot all about
Toplofty Church and the city of Goalong, the sermon,
the call, the Toplofty board of deacons, and everything
else. But I soon came back to earth and my senses
and other things.

Two weeks flew by — not so happy ; two months sped
on — miserable! Oh, that I had the wings of a dove,
that I might soar to the top of some venerable pine,
and, perched upon a friendly limb, spend one com-
fortable hour! Yes, just one complete half-hour
would suffice my needs.

"Oft in the stilly night," when the light burnetii
dim, the last ember freezeth, and the uncharitable
winds unceremoniously butt up against my dwelling,
a sweet, silvery voice singeth out: "Arise, Reddie
dear ; do take the baby and walk him to sleep. It soon
will be light." x\bout that time the thermometer of my
zeal for babies sinks below zero, and I go bouncing
up and down the room at the rate of ten miles an hour.
At a period in the night watches when the vigilant
cock croweth for the approach of morn, and when my
arms are paralyzed and my toes icicles, I hand the

21

322 Good Gumption

drowsy youngster back to Polytechnic, and sigh a sigh
of rehef.

"I do know, Red," she smiles and says, "you are the
best husband in the world."

"I reckon I am!" I reply, taking up my long-de-
ferred pilgrimage to the land of Nod. I think fathers
deserve a great deal of credit. But they don't often
get it.

After the novelty of the baby excitement wore off
in the home of the Reverend Heredity Beans the minds
of the infant's father and mother began slowly to come
back to the things of real life, and among the first of
these to.be considered was the matter of my sermon
at Toplofty Church. We waited for the call we exr
pected to result from it, but the days and weeks and
months went by without a word from the Toploftyites.
Gradually, therefore, the thing was forgotten. But —

It was several years after the birth of Mr. Wax
Beans, and there were a couple more of juvenile beau-
ties at my house. My charge at Doodle Town had
greatly prospered, though the church was not able to
meet the growing demands of my family. This fact
became painful and conspicuous whenever Wax
wanted a pair of boots. Butter a dress, or Lima a doll.
But Polytechnic, my household angel, never wanted
anything. Still I had noticed for several weeks that
a shade of sadness seemed to rest on her cheerful,
hopeful face; and I inquired one day, on returning
home from the post office the cause, for it was giving
me uneasiness.

"Oh ! nothing. I try to be always cheerful."

New Responsibilities 323

"Polytechnic, it has been evident to me for some
time that you are troubled in mind. It is my wish
that you tell me all."

"Red, we ought not to be unhappy. We have such
a sweet family, and so much to be thankful for.''

"You evade my question. Polytechnic. I hope you
will not conceal longer from me the source of your
grief." ^ ^

"Oh!" burying her sweet face in her hands, "it is
the children — the children !"

"Ah ! I had divined the secret, but wanted to know
from your ow^n lips. I have never before been in a
position to ask the question, but now I can ofifer relief.
So you have been depressed because the children have
not the advantages they should have, as well as cloth-
ing and food?"

"Yes; indeed I have! Wax has such a splendid
mind, yet it seems we can't educate him; while all the
children lack suitable clothing. I have ripped up your
old coats for the boy, and my old calicoes for the girls,
and still they are not properly clad. But I shall not
complain, and have said what I have because you
asked it."

"Polytechnic," then said I, unable to hold my secret
any longer, "I have good news for you. Cheer up!
Cheer up, for cherries are ripe."

I drew her near my side, while her bright eyes,
dimmed by tears, turned upon me inquiringly. I was
filled with joy.

"I have here," said I, drawing an envelope from my
pocket, "a letter from the clerk of Toplofty Church, in
the city of Goalong, tendering me a unanimous call.

324 Good Gumption

at a salary of $3,000, with parsonage. Now, what do
you think of that?"

The burden was gone. Throwing her arms around
my neck, she wept great tears of rehef. Perhaps I
did too. At any rate, I could not talk straight for a
few minutes.

I resigned the care of my Doodle Town charge at
once, and hired two wagons to move my family and
household chattels to the railroad depot. My furni-
ture consisted, in part, of an old bedstead, a three-
legged table, some bookshelves, several chairs, a few
stools, and a number of kitchen utensils, such as tin
pans, kettles, and pots. The whole lot was worth
about $15, and actually sold for $11.35 when I reached
the station. I was glad to get rid of them, since they
did not comport with a city pastorate. My wife, two
daughters, and myself occupied a wagon, while Wax
followed on Bucephalus, whistling ''Yankee Doodle."
Of course, we took the trusty mule to our new home,
and gave him, now tottering with age, all the atten-
tion due a veteran of his age and importance. He
was, indeed, a member of the family, wearing con-
stantly a band of red ribbon around his neck, and
eating as often as we ate.

The first Sabbath of a new pastorate is always a
season of more or less anxiety and nervousness to a
minister. As he enters his pulpit, he beholds a sea of
faces strange to him. Many persons express profound
sympathy and readiness to love him upon better ac-
quaintance, while others gaze upon him with stoic in-
difference. Some seem to question his ability to fill
the place, and others appear to be mentally engaged

New Responsibilities 325

•

in remorseless criticisms. Some are concerned about
the shape of his cravat, others are absorbed in the
consideration of his clothes. After the sermon, as he
steps forth upon the street, he hears such whispered
interrogations as, "How do you like him?" and "Do
you think he'll suit?" I must confess, such a prospect
did not put me in the best trim for public speaking,
especially as I was unaccustomed to city ways and to
so grand a church. But I determined to do the very
best I could.

On Saturday evening I was duly instructed that the
pastor must enter the pulpit from a small dungeon
(called the pastor's study to make it respectable) just
as the organ should strike up. Having had it so forci-
bly impressed upon my mind that not to turn up at
precisely the right moment would affect the whole
sermon, and have a tendency to break down my con-
gregation, I ordered breakfast to be served half an
hour earlier than usual, and by the help of a street-
car arrived at Toplofty Church two hours before there
could be- any possibility of the organ's getting ahead
of me. I didn't intend to give it a chance in a thousand
to do so.

After more than an hour's patient waiting, I ap-
proached the study door with mouse-like stillness, and
placed my ear to the keyhole to see if I could hear
any tidings from the choir, but no sound greeted me
in the unbroken silence of the great edifice. I began
to think that the hour for service had passed, that the
organ had sounded, and that, as I failed to come to
time, the congregation had dispersed ; so once or twice
I stealthily opened the study door and peeped slyly

326 Good Gumption

into the auditory, to find how matters stood. Drop-
ping again into my chair, I fell asleep from nervous
exhaustion, and dreamed of Doodle Town, longing to
be there once more, and longing to be back home.

While I was dozing, the organ's peal, like a deafen-
ing note of thunder, broke upon my startled ear. Un-
der the impulse of the moment, I ran obliviously into
the pulpit, and gave out the 3000th hymn. It took
just a quarter of an hour for the organ to end its
march from "Norma," and I was compelled to wait,
under most distressing embarrassment, to get my
hymn through.

Toplofty Church hired the chief performers in its
choir at large salaries, disregarding spiritual qualifi-
cations altogether; consequently, the choir committee,
who should have spent a year or two longer at the
mourners' bench, or in Sing Sing, having made the
acquaintance of all the orchestras and minstrel troupes
in the cit}'^, selected from them just such a set of players
and singers as they thought would attract the biggest
rabble. This delectable tribe played and sang songs
of doubtful propriety on the stage until eleven o'clock
Saturday night, and "Coronation" on Sunday morn-
ing. They amused the Bacchanalian hosts of sin six
days, and guided the worshipers of Jehovah one.
Their singing commanded so much money, and it was
a matter of supreme indifference to them what the
Lord thought of it, since it was intended to draw a
congregation, and had no reference to the Almighty.
It was immaterial to them whether they tuned up on
"Home, Sweet Home," "Yankee Doodle," or the long
meter Doxology.

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328 Good Gumption

Besides the professionals, there were about two
dozen half-fledged boys and girls belonging to the
congregation, aping their musical seniors with im-
maculate reverence. The choristers, being located in
the gallery directly in front of the pulpit, presented an
amusing spectacle. A dozen bloated, rum-scented
fiddlers and stage-singers, surrounded by a lot of
youths, conspicuous for their scarf-pins and carefully
plastered-down hair, and a bevy of girls with rouged
cheeks, bangs, and bustles, all gasping:

''How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in his excellent word!"

Grand old hymn ! A hundred times has the weary
pilgrim been strengthened by it. But who would have
recognized it as thus it came from the choir ?

"Ha fa ah fwa dah sha, ya sah ad thah Lor-aw,
Ah la fwa yah fwa-ah ong whang ohx sa la wha-ah !"

At length the orchestra consented to attend to my
hymn for me, and as the organ pealed solemnly forth,
the whole congregation turned as one man, and with
necks twisted in rapt devotion, set their gaze upon the
gallery, not uttering a single word themselves — and
worshiped the instruments and voices.

After service, the leader of the choir met me in the
study, stating that he wished to play, at a funeral I
had announced for four o'clock, a superb march that
had created a sensation in the West, and which would
be introduced on the following Friday night at the
Motley Opera House. He said he was especially
anxious to do this, as the deceased was a gentleman
of wealth and influence, and would draw a crowded

New Responsibilities 329

house. I informed the chorister that I did not adver-
tise theaters, and furthermore, that as the deceased
had failed to march to gospel time when living, I didn't
think it v^ould improve him much to march to theater
time when dead.

The hour for night service having arrived, the choir
repeated the gyrations of the morning, with some ad-
ditions. They applied the tuning fork with greater
precision, made more faces, squealed louder, stretched
their mouths wider, threw their heads back farther,
rolled the whites of their eyes with greater art, and,
instead of a selection from "Norma," introduced the
worship by rattling off a jig from — Norma 's daugh-
ter, I presume.

After the sermon I requested the choir to meet me
in the study.

"My musical friends,'' said I, in mellowed accents,
'*to date you have been hired to do just what you have
done with such marvelous fidelity. I wish to say now,
however, that as pastor of Toplofty Church, and di-
rector of its prayer meeting, of its Sunday school, and
of its choir, I propose to change the object of worship,
substituting God instead of the organ. And inasmuch
as Jehovah, of whom perhaps you have heard, seeketh
only such to worship him as worship him in spirit and
in truth, we shall not need a Sunday concert any long-
er. You may, therefore, consider yourselves honor-
ably discharged. Good night !"

During the week I sought to inaugurate several
minor reforms, such as kindness to mules and protec-
tion for men and boys in street-cars crowded with
women. Amidst lengthening shadows, as I home-

330 Good Gumption

ward turned my weary steps one evening, pondering
what reforms I next should attempt, a nondescript-
looking man hailed me, and introduced himself as the
special reporter of the "Goalong Daily Blowgun/'

"I wish your attention a moment," said he.

"Very well; make known your errand."

"It is our custom to wait upon the different clergy-
men to ascertain their subjects for Sunday announce-
ment, and we should be pleased to have yours."

"Sir," said I, "I fear the tendency of your Sunday
announcements is to emphasize curious texts and pan-
der to the lower tastes of men. If a minister wants to
draw a crowd by displaying his wit and blasphemy, he
should turn clown and join a show."

"There is justness in your remarks, sir," at length
he said, in an undertone, "and it would perhaps be well
if a sentiment could be aroused on the subject. Min-
isters might make known their subjects without pan-
dering to the vicious clamor for sensationalism."

"Very true," said I. "Let me see the character of
the themes for Sunday."

He handed me the list. The following was the
morning bill of fare proposed by the most ambitious
candidates for popular patronage: "Silver Harps,"
"The Ship of Science Capsized," "A Celestial Love-
scrape," "A Dialogue between Departed Spirits," "A
Ghost at Sea," "How to Vote," "A Cherub's Wing,"
"An Angel's Tale," "A Leap in the Dark."

"These are excellent themes," said I, "prayerfully
chosen, reverently worded, and no doubt likely to do
great good and convert many sinners. Please put me
down for 'The Blind Staggers.' "

New Responsibilities 331

For evening service there was: "A Carnival of
Worms over a Dead King," "A Fleeing Prophet Bur-
ied Alive," "An Apostate Suicide," "Dead Flies,"
"Defunct Frogs," "A Frozen Dog," "Drowned Pigs,"
"A Lifeless Lion," "A Dynamited Dragon," "A Per-
ished Elephant," "A Wayless Whale."

"This is a graceful climax," said L "From a worm
to a whale — and it is calculated to draw the floating
populace in the ratio of the subjects as arranged. It
seems that all the night themes are dignified and im-
pressive— relating in some way to death. In this the
clergymen have evinced eminent piety and wisdom;
for they know if buzzards are to be attracted to the
sanctuary, the pulpit must savor of carrion. Mr. Re-
porter, you may chalk me down thus : 'The Funeral of
an Ass (Jeremiah 22: 19). Relatives and friends of
the deceased invited.' "

The reporter bade me good-by, and, smiling, said
he'd be at Toplofty on Sunday or "burst a boiler,"
whatever that meant. And on Sunday I got all the
fools in town — and that means a big congregation.

It was then that Sheepskin College, true to its pro-
pensities, nicknamed me "Doctor." Henceforth,
everytime I get an invitation to a watermelon festival,
or a soup-bone from a butcher, my name is written
"the Rev. H. Beans, D.D.," or "the Rev. Dr. Beans."
This change in my name necessitated a number of
other changes. My coat ever afterwards was made in
clerical style, two inches and a half longer in the tail
than common, while I purchased a pair of eye-glasses
to give me the true divinity stare.

THE AVERAGE GIRL

Chapter XXVIII.

As pastor of a large and influential church, my
services as a lecturer frequently were called into req-
uisition outside the boundaries of my fold. One of
my lectures made a great sensation, and I feel that this
book would not be complete without it. Therefore it
is printed herein. It was called 'The Average Girl,"
and was delivered at the commencement of a very
popular and widely-known female college in the city
of Goalong, a college that to you, reader, I shall call
the Institute for the Prevention of Utility. While this
was not its name, it more thoroughly describes it than
its real title. The young ladies who listened to the
lecture were unable to say whether I was giving them
some good advice in the shape of a humorous address
or whether I was trying to make them the objects of
my derision. They looked at it from difTerent points
of view and formed two factions — Beans and anti-
Beans. To one side I was a great teacher striving to
make my teachings interesting through the medium
of fun, while to the other I simply was a most exe-
crated individual indeed. I leave it to the reader to
judge of the situation for himself or herself.

"Young ladies," said I, when I addressed them, "the
proper study of mankind is woman ; the only study of
(332)

The Average Girl 333

womankind is man. I think it was the grandfather
of Diogenes who made the sage remark that girls are
a necessary evil, but if Diogenes didn't have a grand-
father, or didn't make the statement, I take the re-
sponsibility upon myself. Of course, I do not allude
to that girlhood which blesses the world with sunny
smiles, which stimulates the sterner sex to industry
and valor as by an inspiration, and which nobly offers
upon the home altar the incense of a pure and unselfish
life. No! such womanhood is a necessary benison.
It is at once the preserving bond of society and the
fairest blossom of the race. It is of a very different
girl that I speak — the average girl.

"The average girl spends three winters at a board-
ing-school, amusing herself an hour a day with
French, German, and Italian. She promptly purchas-
es the catalogue series of mathematical books to adorn
her mantelpiece, which, with vestal fidelity, she guards
against the profanation of a touch. She scrupulously
writes her name in a 'Three Weeks' Course in Philos-
ophy,' or chemistry, geology, botany, physiology, or
astronomy, and masters them up to the title-pages.
She buys a universal history, which she covers in
bright calico, with exquisite taste, and puts in the bot-
tom of her trunk. She takes drawing and painting
lessons for six months, and, counting the time spent at
home, she practices on her piano or her guitar three
times a week for ten years. Between sunset and tea,
she sits in an upstairs window with her chum and dis-
courses of balls and beaux. Between tea and ten
o'clock she writes fifteen to twenty letters, 'real nice
letters.' containing one idea to every three epistles.

334 Good Gumption

"At the end of the third session she graduates with
honor in all the books in her trunk, and on Commence-
ment Day reaps a harvest of diplomas. Clad in white,
adorned with medals, and bordered with ribbons, she
reads an essay on 'The True Woman,' or 'The
Advantage of an Education.' Notwithstanding she
knows nothing of either, or of anything save fool-
ishness, she'll win a creditable amount of applause,
and captivate the heart of every gosling in the au-
dience. Young ladies, you will please pardon me if I
should intimate that I know whereof I affirm, and
myself have felt her wondrous charms.

"After she lays aside, for the balance of her earthly
residence, her 'arduous studies,' the average girl re-
turns home, a lady of leisure and accomplishments, to
enjoy perpetual vacation, except when acting as gen-
eral supervisor of her parents. If the market-man
asks her to ascertain the cost of three dozen eggs at
twelve and a half cents per dozen, she rushes frantic-
ally to her slate, and, having covered both sides with
figures, triumphantly announces that if she had not
made a small mistake in the beginning she would have
gotten it exactly — but she reckons -he had better wait
till papa comes.

"In astronomy, she has no profound knowledge of
any of the heavenly bodies but the moon, and that is
because there is a man in it. In science, she does not
know the difference between an atom and a molecule,
an earthquake and a hurricane, an isthmus and a
strait. While unable to distinguish a rhinoceros from
a crocodile, she can, however, expertly discriminate
between a peacock's feather and an ostrich plume.

The Average Girl 335

tn

'In history, she has heard of Columbus, but doesn't
know whether he was a Frenchman, an Itahan, or a
Dutchman. She thinks the Thirty Years' War lasted
eighteen months, that the Sepoy Mutiny is identical
with the Mexican War, and that the French Revolu-
tion took place in Canada. If you ask her when the
War of 1812 occurred, she replies that she is 'not
good on dates ;' if you ask her what nations fought it,
she remarks that she is 'not good on names;' if you
ask her where the war was waged, she claims that she
'never could remember places.' She believes that La-
fayette was a Seminole chief, and that John Adams
was the father of the express business, while George
III was vice-president under Washington's admin-
istration.

"In language, she can say with superb fluency bon
foil, beaux, soiree, music ale, chapeaii, and a la mode,
but she cannot direct a wayfarer to the next cross-
roads nor write a receipt in any language under the
sun. Turning up her nose at grammar and rhetoric,
she can give expression, with perfect ease and unim-
peachable emphasis, to every conception of her brain
or emotion of her heart simply by using the list of in-
terjections. She can creditably perform her part in
conversation for two hours by the use of the excla-
mations, 'Ah!' 'Oh!' 'Indeed!' 'You don't say!' 'Impos-
sible!' 'Why, Mr. Blank!' 'Now, Mr. Blank!' 'How
cruel !' 'Too absurd !' 'How ridiculous !' 'Oh, me !' 'You
ought to be ashamed!' 'Awful!' 'Horrors!' 'There
now !' 'Ha, ha, ha !'

"Having studied music for ten years, of course she
has piled up her stand with a multitude of choice

336 Good Gumption

operas, songs, and marches; but when asked to play,
she is always out of practice ; if requested to sing, she
is hoarse, in proof whereof she clears her throat.
After she has been begged, implored, and besought
for an hour and a half, however, she flies savagely to
the piano and drums off a feeble little polka that would
fail to arrest the attention of a kitten. She plays one
air and puts on ten thousand.

"The average girl conceals the handsomest part of
her face with hair, leaving a small aperture for her
eyes, bends herself double, and girds herself with a
bustle to show that one may be an ape without accept-
ing the theory of evolution. (This was during the
days when the horrible contortion known as 'the Gre-
cian bend,' and the barbarous scheme of hair-dressing
called 'bangs' were fashionable, but the same general
truth is applicable to-day, for there are feminine fads
now quite as foolish and disfiguring.) She wears
shoes with the heels in the middle of her instep, dons
a hat surmounted by a murdered bird, and marches
furiously down town to attend the milliner's. She
reads novels nearly all day, which she says are 'just
splendid,' eats pickles and sweets indiscriminately in
the afternoon, and receives beaux in the evening. She
dances till daybreak one night in the week, wears
dresses too brief at both ends, and refuses to be
civilized.

"In summer, the average girl joins the Idiot Club,
and takes a train for a summer resort. She arrives
at the station, where she is to purchase her ticket, with
a whoop, a shout, and a scream that alarm sober peo-
ple. When inquiry is instituted as to this uproar-

22

(337)

338 Good Gumption

iousness the discovery is made that it is an instance
of an effect without a cause. With a couple of com-
panions, she rushes upon the car steps before the
train stops, drops her gloves, and loses her hat. Hav-
ing recovered the articles, she sinks upon the first va-
cant seat she sees, in a laughing swoon, attracting the
unwilling attention and disturbing the peace of every-
body on board. Every ten minutes she raises and
lowers a window or two, dashes to the water-cooler
occasionally, and now and then changes her seat; all
of which evolutions are continued amid yells and fits
of laughter, for a distance of a hundred or two hun-
dred miles, when, exhausted from excess of joy, she
poises her head gracefully on the back of the seat,
arousing herself to consciousness only as she beholds
the conductor passing, which unfortunate wretch she
never fails to ply with a string of interrogations. Hav-
ing arrived at her destination, she laughs, shrieks,
dances, and flirts for three delirious weeks, when she
returns home to complain of the monotony of life,
which she thinks is 'awful dull.'

"The average girl finds no pleasure in home, be-
cause she never has prepared herself for the practical
duties of life. Of those things that afford abiding joy,
she knows nothing. She is like an imprisoned bird
that batters its wings against the wires that confine it.
The dignity of existence she never has considered,
except when writing an essay ; the grandeur of a use-
ful life she never has stopped, in the whirl of dissipa-
tion, to ponder. She cannot scramble eggs, stuff a
chicken (except subjectively), boil a dumpling, fry
a potato, or salt the dough for an ashcake. She cannot

The Average Girl 339

make a fire, hem a handkerchief, sweep a door-mat,
dust a wall-pocket, or rinse a dish-rag. She ekes out
a semi-sentimental, semi-hysterical, wholly useless
life, unfit for the duties of earth, and unprepared for
the blissful activities of heaven.

"The average girl, of course, joins the church. This
she does because it is altogether respectable, approved
by the highest circles of fashion, and opens a door to
the privileges of church fairs and festivals. Besides,
it gives her an opportunity to display from Sunday to
Sunday her last dress, or hat, to show her gilt-edged
hymnbook, and to see those of others of her set. She
never has halted long enough in the thoughtless race
she makes of life to learn what Christianity requires,
or what the church is for. She bows punctiliously
during public prayer — and arranges her hat. She ac-
complishes what the wisest men pronounce impossible
— does two things at a time — when she sings alto to
the Lord and snickers at the girl in front of her. She
reads q short Psalm at night, if she has attended a
funeral during the day.

'Tt is unnecessary to say that the average girl gets
married — certainly she does. And worse luck it is
that often she weds before her better sister — the ex-
traordinary girl — gets a husband. She opines that
unmingled joy awaits her, and that hymeneal felicity
will last forever ; two years later she leaves off the 'o'
and simply pines. At about thirty years of age, she
begins to see through a glass darkly, and to realize the
existence of a sure-enough, tangible, practical world.
When forty, she sees men as trees walking, and has the
exalted honor of supporting a husband — a real, live

340 Good Gumption

husband. Like a true wife, she takes excellent care
of her consort, paying his champagne bills, and de-
fraying his expenses to the circus. While he is at the
club of nights, she knits him comfortable socks; and
while he sits on a box in front of a drug-store in the
day, she gives music lessons, or runs a millinery.
When about fifty, she is put in a section of the grave-
yard, tired of the world, tired of life, and tired of her
husband.

"Permit me to say in conclusion, young ladies of the
Institute, that I trust you are in advance of the aver-
age girl, who never can be esteemed a success; and
that, with Cupid's golden arrow, you will slay every
one your man, live in a palace, and devote your ener-
gies to the amelioration of the miseries of the human
kind."

As I closed my lecture, the girls rose, and tossing
their indignant heads, sang:

"We bonnie maids say,
As at vespers we pray,

We'll do the best we can;
Give patience to wait,
Till some subsequent date,
World without men. A man !"

I need only say that, since the delivery of the fore-
going oration, my services have not been demanded
by any more female colleges, and that my funny
speeches are now solicited chiefly for temperance
lodges and Christmas trees.

But, dear reader, I ask you : was I not right in my
talk to the young ladies of the Institute for the Pre-
vention of Utility? Is not the average girl just ex-

The Average Girl 341

actly what I painted her? Do you think if a man
came along with a kodak and snapshotted this esti-
mable female, inwardly as well as outwardly, he would
be able to give the world any better photograph of her
than I did? Isn't she a useless, purposeless, aimless,
hysterical, and altogether foolish sort of a person?

Of course, dear reader, if you are a girl I don't class
you with her. I give you a chance for a little self-
examination. If you happen to look anything like the
young lady I described in my lecture, swear ofif at
once and devote your life to being the un-average
girl, which means that a share of that devotion should
go toward making some fellow's life and home happy
and contentful, instead of wretched and miserable.

A SATURDAY'S DIARY

Chapter XXIX.

Few people have any adequate idea of the constant
and varied demands made upon a minister's time, sal-
ary, patience, heart, and brain. He spends a large
part of each day trying to do a whole host of things
required of him. The following is a sample diary for
Saturday, the one day in the week perhaps that a pas-
tor would like to spend in rest, quiet, and meditation
for the morrow:

Six o'clock A.M. — Awaked by a tremendous thump-
ing, at the front door. The servant brings me word
that a lightningrod man wants to see me immediately.
I make answer that I have just returned from a long
journey, and am tired, sick, and sleepy, and ask to be
excused. Agent sends reply that the church is in im-
minent danger, and should have a rod on it before
breakfast. Seven churches and thirteen temperance
lodges have been struck, he says, throughout the world
during the last twenty-four hours. Says he is a dis-
interested party, but a wellwisher to the cause.
Doesn't like to see churches destroyed when they can
be so easily saved. Says he's going to come to hear
me preach to-morrow. Sends a notice for me to read
from the pulpit, and wants me to indorse it in a speech.
(342)

A Saturday's Diary 343

Says his mother is a member of my denomination. De-
clares that Hghtning will not strike within two miles
of one of his rods. I reply that I want him to fit up a
rod for each of my legs, as I am constantly exposed to
storms; and that, in view of his religious tendencies,
I charge only $5 for reading the notice, and $10 for
the speech, in advance. Doesn't accept my offer.

(5;j5 A.M. — A tramp rouses me up at the back win-
dow for the purpose of borrowing forty-five cents to
pay his fare to the next town. I lean out of bed, peep
through the blinds, and tell him that it would pain me
to see such a man leave the city, and that I could not
be instrumental in depriving the community of a citi-
zen like him. But if he will accept the appointment,
he may consider himself royal sawyer to the par-
sonage, and by dressing a half cord of wood, become
heir to a salary of forty-five cents. He declines the
ofifice.

/.•75 A.M. — Had just fallen asleep. Mrs. Dreamly
awakes me by sending up a poem entitled the "Silver
Moon," on which she says she has been engaged for
two years. Wants to publish it in a magazine, and
desires to know what it is worth. I advise her not to
publish at less than a thousand dollars a line, and if
she can't get that to hold it. We don't see such poetry
every day. Better not dispose of the poem at any
price ; hand it down to posterity to show what a wom-
an can do when she quits making biscuits.

8 A.M. — Get up and look in the glass; don't look
well — I mean the glass. Go to breakfast, find the
servant has left, and Polytechnic doing the cooking.
Find she also must make fires, go to market, sweep up

344 Good Gumption

generally, set the table, wash the dishes, and bring in
wood for the kitchen. I know she's the best wife in
the world. Won't let me help her — says D.D. and
drudgery don't go together. Sump'n in that.

p A .M. — Just entering my study. A youth, who had
been dismissed from his Sunday school class for hab-
itual neglect of his lesson, comes up behind me sud-
denly, gasping in great excitement, "Doctor, I am
appointed to lead the young people's meeting to-mor-
row evening, and I want to talk on the subject, 'Who
W^as Cain's Wife?' Can you give me any light on it?"
"Oh, yes; you might venture to say that Cain was her
husband, and also that she was the conjoint daughter
of her father and mother on both sides. You might
add, without fear of successful contradiction, the his-
toric statement that she dwelt in the land of Nod."
He departs happy.

p:ij A.M. — Go to work, realizing I have to prepare
two sermons for Sunday, and have not a text for
either. Scratch my head and try to think of some-
thing to preach about.

g:^o A.M. — Just about to settle down upon a text,
when my entire train of thought is ditched by a de-
crepit old bachelor who wants to marry a widow, and
asks me to help him. I tell him that I never married
a widow, and don't understand the business.

10 A.M. — A gaily-decorated young woman an-
nounces herself as on "a vital mission." Unrolls a
bundle of recipes, that apparently have been handled
a decade or two. Gotten up for ministers — add fif-
teen years to their lives — copied in her own hand —
price only twenty-five cents each. Hands me one for

A Saturday's Diary 345

dyspepsia which has cured a thousand ministers. I
assure her that I have not a symptom of dyspepsia,
and can digest grindstones fried in rubber. Then,
wouldn't I Hke a remedy for minister's sore throat?
I ask if she knew what caused this disease. Says she
supposes it is brought on by excessive talking". Then
won't she excuse me now before I contract the malady ?
Doesn't take the hint. Thrusts at me successively rec-
ipes for nervous prostration, insomnia, antifat, hy-
drophobia, and finally with some caution, a remedy
for melancholia and insanity. Perhaps I do need
something along that line. I roll my eyes, toss my
arms aimlessly, throw my head back and laugh, kick
over the rocking chair, jump upon the table, repeat
with wild gesticulations "The Maniac" scream 'T am
not mad, I am not mad!" Thinks I am, and flees.

10:4^ A.M. — Forgot what text I had selected —
start afresh. The morning is passing rapidly. I am
getting nervous. Think I'll have to preach about rec-
ognition in heaven. That's easy. No, I preached
about that the last time I got in a pinch. All is dark.

11:15 ^.M. — Several quick raps upon my study
door. "Come in!" A slim man with a faint mous-
tache enters. "I am horrified, sir," say I, "that you
should thus rudely break in upon my meditations. But
I grant you five minutes in which to state your case."
Says he is a singing-master and wants me to get him a
class. Says he is the best singer in the United States,
and can teach a duck to make excellent music in three
weeks. Jerks a book from his satchel, seizes me by
the neck unawares, and has a tuning-fork buzzing in
my ear before T can speak. The idea of teaching me

346 Good Gumption

to sing! I never turned a tune in my life. I finally
tell the slim man, whose squeaking voice reminds me
of a creaking door, that he'd make an excellent pre-
centor for a class of mosquitoes.

12 M. — No text yet, and my brain is throbbing. No
preaching to-morrow at two large churches. A crowd
of strangers will fill up my pews and expect big things.
Wonder where they will get 'em. It's court week,
too, and the judge and lawyers will be out, perhaps.
I think I can give some good instruction to lawyers
without much reflection. Yes, I've got one of my ser-
mons now. The text is Hebrews xiii. 14 — "Here have
we no continuing city." It will be considered under
two heads — viz.: i. Lying; 2. Honesty. The first di-
vision is for the lawyers ; the second, for their clients.
This classification eml^races nearly all the citizens of
the United States. I may have to do some tall twisting
to make the divisions fit the text — but I can do it.

I2:j0 P.M. — Exhausted by the exercises of the
morning, I lay me down to get a nap, that I may re-
cruit my energies preparatory to another tussle with
a text later in the afternoon. Fall asleep — am rudely
roused by an awkward elephant of a boy rushing into
my room and throwing his arms around me, exclaim-
ing, "I'm so glad to see you, Uncle Red!" "Who are
you, sir?" asked I, "that you dare thus impertinently
plunge into my private apartment and rob me of the
small modicum of rest I seek to obtain from the moles-
tation of strangers ? ^^1lo are you, sir ?" "Why, Un-
cle Red, I thought you knew me," he returns, "I'm
your wife's cousin's sister's uncle's nephew's brother's
niece's son by step-marriage. Come to spend a week

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348 Good Gumption

with my relatives." "Sir," say I, rubbing my half-
closed eyes, "you will find that the Sawdust Hotel has
been built for just the class of relatives to which you
belong". Good day, sir!" The visitor of distant kin
retired.

/ P.M. — Dinner time. More time than dinner. No
servant yet. A large family of country members, who
have come to town to trade, have just stopped in, with-
out giving warning, to dine with us. Polytechnic is
ready to cry. Our guests devour like a swarm of lo-
custs everything before them. Had my eye on one lit-
tle ear of corn I had hoped to fall heir to — but alas ! it's
gone. A wild-looking boy grabbed it. I'm awfully
hungry. Go to the hen's nest for an tgg. The old
speckle is on. I wait for her to lay. Doesn't lay ; I be-
lieve she's sitting! If she is, I'll starve. Wait another
half hour — no egg. I go to the garden, pluck a squash,
peel it, put a little salt and pepper on it, and eat it raw —
think that sometime in the past I have had a better din-
ner. I go next to a tree and get a green persimmon. I
eat the persimmon to draw up my stomach to fit my
meal. Economical arrangement. Every preacher
should have a persimmon tree.

2:^0 P.M. — Wish I didn't have to preach to-mor-
row night. The country meml^ers have just left. T
shut myself up in my study to get a. skeleton for my
other sermon. Let's see! I think I'll preach on "The
Brevity of Time." No; I made a prayer-meeting talk
on that last Thursday evening. I hear a knock at the
door. I must be a mighty good man not to get mad at
such repeated interruptions. But T do get mad —
that's the trouble. Miss Celestia Stump enters, weep-

A Saturday's Diary 349

ing. I always sympathize with the afflicted. "Be re-
signed, Miss Stump, afflictions await us all, and time
at length will soothe the deepest grief." *'No! never!
Dr. Beans," says the sobbing maid, pressing her hand-
kerchief to her eyes. "My grief is inconsolable."
"When did your father leave for the better land? I
heard he was sick." "Oh ! it's not pa. Doctor," replies
Miss Celestia, indulging in increased lamentations.
"It's dear, sweet, precious, lovely, darling little Snow-
drop, my pet poodle, you know; and I have come to
ask you to write a suitable obituary in verse to be read
at the funeral this evening at six o'clock. Pa says he
knows you will be glad to do it, for you thought so
much of sainted Snowdrop — precious thing." "Miss
Stump," say I, hoarsely, recovering from a variety of
emotions, "please say to your sagacious parent, that
the obituary will cost twenty-five cents a verse retail ;
or if he wants it by the wholesale, I'll furnish a couple
of miles for fifteen dollars, in advance." I think they
will bury the pup without obital notice.

?.'75 P.M. — Again I try to collect my thoughts and
settle upon a text. I place my hand on my aching
brow, and think as concentratedly as I can. A sewing-
machine agent enters without knocking. Puts a ma-
chine down, and says it will run forever, and make less
noise the longer it is run ; says it will sew any sort of
material in the world, and starts it to rattling furious-
ly. "Please go down," say I, "into the kitchen, and
sew together my waffle-Irons that got broken last
week." Sees that I mean business and leaves.

4. P.M. — My head aches severely. Don't think my
squash-persimmon dinner agreed with me. Unless I

350 Good Gumption

can be perfectly quiet the rest of the evening, I can-
not prepare a sermon. Let's see! I want something
practical for my people — something that will make
saints rejoice and sinners tremble. I think I'll try
that passage in Paul's letter to Timothy where he says
— Bothers! (I don't mean Paul said that, but my-
self— ) I hear a frantic rapping at my door again!
Miss Masculina Mugg introduces herself. Asks if I
am not a friend of her suffering and downtrodden sex,
and if I don't want to immortalize myself by espousing
a noble cause and breaking the debasing chains that
are rusting on woman's snowy wrists.

I tell her that, after my own, there is no sex under
the starry canopy of the azure heavens, north, east,
south, or west, in air, earth, or water, that I esteem
more than her own; but that I do not care just now to
espouse the sex, as I already have espoused the best
specimen belonging to it. Yet if I should lose her, I
suppose I would espouse again, and her application
would be considered. She pretends not to understand
me, and asks if she can have the use of my church
Sunday evening, to deliver a lecture on "Woman's
Rights." I tell her I think women have all of their
own rights and half of the men's, and that she would
do well to reflect prayerfully on Paul's advice to wom-
en— "I will therefore that the younger women marry,
bear children, guide the house, give none occasion to
the adversary to speak reproachfully. For some are
already turned aside after Satan." She goes off speak-
ing parables. Think she'll take the apostle's advice if
she gets an offer.

4:^0 P.M. — A lady sends for me on important busi-

A Saturday's Diary 351

ness. Wants me to coax Johnnie to let the doctor pull
an aching tooth. I go — and pull the tooth myself. John
yells a symphony in B minor, while I laugh. Feel a
little better for a while.

6 P.M. — I again enter my study, tired and nervous,
I lock the door to secure privacy. I scarcely turn the
key before I hear a fist thundering at the door. I make
no reply. Polytechnic comes out and says I'm busy
and can't see company. Says he has business with me
that I can't aflford to neglect. She turns the knob,
but can't get in. The man tells her he reckons I'm
preparing to commit suicide; he heard of just such a
case day before yesterday. My spouse grows anx-
ious. The man gets an ax from the back yard and is
about to batter the door down. I let him in. Before
I have time to deliver the complimentary remarks I
had prepared, he holds an opened prospectus within
two inches of my nose, narrating fluently the wonders
of a book entitled "An Encyclopedia of Remarkable
Mysteries." Price, in library style, $6.50.

While he is displaying the merits of his book, an-
other agent drops in and calls me into the passage.
Says he wants to see me privately. Tells me the first
agent is a fraud; that his book is nothing but a hash
made up of other works, hastily gotten together, and
full of inaccuracies. The publishers tried three weeks
to get him to take hold of it, but he was too honest a"
man to palm off such a swindle on the unsuspecting
public. When he sells a man anything he wants him
to get the worth of his money. Says he: "Moved by
such considerations, I have been induced to handle a
work called 'The Universal Booktionary of Storms.'

352 Good Gumption

It ought to be in the hands of every gentleman — sells
at sight." "'Won't sell me," I opine, and say so flat-
footedly.

Just here enters a third agent, who steps up to me
cautiously, and throwing his arm affectionately around
my neck, confidingly whispers to me that I had better
be on the lookout, since these two rascals are in league,
one trying to sell where the other fails. Says he had
been following them up for three months at his own
expense, and thoroughly understands their game.
Says he is an honest man himself, and delights to ex-
pose humbuggery, just from principle. He can't bear
to see people imposed upon, especially ministers of the
gospel. He knows they have a hard time and are
doing a blessed work. He was impressed himself
with a call to preach w^ien he was a lad. While his
object is to expose fraud and protect the people, he
carries along the most magnificent book of the age,
"The Diseases of Dogs," (I asked him if he has had
the disease) which is particularly suited to the needs
of pastors, for whose benefit he has consented to sell
it. Doesn't care to make anything on it — his reward
is a good conscience. Says it is an illustrated book,
and sells readily for $io; but as his aim is not to make
money, but to do good, he will partly give it to me and
charge only $7.25, to cover cost. Says he will be at
"church to-morrow morning during Sunday school,
and will make a talk if I wanted him to. My supper-
bell is ringing. I ask my visitors to adjourn and take
chairs on the porch until I issue my work on "Cheek."

7 P.M. — Supper. Salt, pepper, crackers, and wa-
ter. I eat heartily. No servant yet.

A Saturday's Diary 353

8 P.M. — Retire again to my study to make a last
effort for a text. In desperation I clasp my hands be-
hind my back, bend my body forward, walk the floor,
and sigh. I have genuine sympathy for myself. I
fancy an enormous congregation waiting to hear the
message of life — but alas! I have no message, and I
picture myself rising before said congregation with-
out even a text. Well, maybe I can get a sermon be-
fore bed-time. Let's see! The mark that was put
upon Cain — how'll that do? — Thump, thump at my
door. A patent-medicine man comes in and spreads
small boxes on mantelpiece, table, bookcase, chairs,
and floor.

"These are Electric Pills," chants the man. "They
are made wholly of vegetable matter, found only on a
small uninhabited island in the open Polar Sea. I
was wrecked some years ago, and was borne by an
iceberg, upon which I managed to climb, to this fa-
vored isle, where, almost famished, I chanced to find
this life-giving herb, of which I chewed a couple of
leaves, and gained six pounds in two minutes. I soon
gained such wonderful strength, that, having filled
my pockets with this powerful curative, I was enabled
to swim to one of our northern ports. I now place
within the reach of all a certain, speedy, and perma-
nent cure. It regulates the liver, purifies the blood,
invigorates the kidneys to healthy action, and tones
up the system generally. It is good for sprains, burns,
blisters, styes, neuralgia, insomnia, pain in the back,
chills and fevers, corns, loss of life — er — ahem — sight,
hearing, or speech, low spirits, baldness, warts, itch,
and all diseases of the skin, blood, bones, and flesh.
25

354 Good Gumption

The pills are entirely harmless, sir, purely vegetable,
and can be taken in any quantity without danger.
Will you have a box, sir? Only twenty-five cents.
Splendid for clergymen !"

"Have a box of such pills?" gasp I. "Don't speak
so modestly, sir; please leave me at least a carload."
As I gaze through the window, I see the dispenser of
pills plodding his way through the deepening shadows
to the Sawdust Hotel.

8:4=) P.M. — Surely I'll be quiet now for an hour or
two. No one w^ill dare to molest me at this hour of
the night. What! Another knock at my door?
"Who's there?" ask I, menacingly. No response; but
another rap. "Who's there?" repeat I. A voice re-
plies, "An agent of the Ne Plus Ultra Organ Com-
pany— best organ in the world. Want to show you
illustrated catalogue — extra terms to ministers — dou-
ble veneered case, three hundred and forty-nine stops."
"Two stops are all I w'ant to-night ; please stop knock-
ing, and go around the corner to the Sawdust Hotel
and stop as much as you please."

8:^0 P.M. — A bloated toper, whose wdfe has left
him, comes to see if I will not try to induce her to re-
turn. Asks what I would do if "er great big \voman,
mad as er hornet, with flowin' red hair, her eyes flash-
in' fire, an' er ax handle in her hand, wus er comin'
right at you." I reply that I'd run. The toper has
suggested a sermon and after thanking him for his
courtesy in coming, I promise to help adjust matters
with his spouse. I'll talk to-morrow evening on "Col-
lisions"— not family, but railroad disasters. A num-
ber of my young men are going on an excursion

A Saturday's Diary 355

Monday, and a little counsel will be timely. I sit down
to write my sermon, part of which T quote:

Among the improvements of modern times, railroad col-
lisions enjoy a conspicuous place. All civilized nations have
them now. They mark the boundary line between progress
and stagnation. Nothing stagnates where there is a collision.
These splendid triumphs of mo'dern enlightenment take place
not only on a more magnificent scale than ever before, but
they have greatly increased in popularity and usefulness. In
former years very few people took part in them, but now-
adays almost everybody is directly or indirectly interested in
them. Some persons even go so far as to lavish considerable
affection on thein, reading the newspapers containing accounts
of them with more assiduity and attention than the Bible.

While collisions have been of no special benefit to the par-
ticipants, they nevertheless have proved of great advantage to a
large number of other people. For instance, I knew a woman
once, who lost a drunken husband by a collision, and she has
been happy ever since. They have also thinned out dudes and
put a timely end to a number of male women, thereby doing
a very large amount of good.

It may be well just here to venture a bit of advice to persons
who think of investing in this interesting class of accidents.
So I begin by saying that collisions, like marriage, should not
be lightly entered into, and, at first, one should invest cautious-
ly. If you find that a collision is inevitable, choose daylight
for it, since well-authenticated data, drawn from the records
of undertakers, go to show that night seriously diminishes the
attractions and the enjoyment. Unless the circumstances are
peculiar, don't have more than one at a time. Two or more
collisions at once are, in the main, unsatisfactory, and but few
people can enjoy them. If you decide upon a collision before
starting, don't start. But, should you determine upon a haz-
ard, be sure to take out an accident insurance policy to the
amount of two dollars and a half — a great deal more than the
average man is worth.

356 Good Gumption

As a rule, I would not get married in a collision, nor is it
a good time to have a tooth pulled. I would not eat fried
hog in such a crisis for if the collision doesn't kill you, the'
hog will. If you have a waxed mustache, and a pewter tooth-
pick, don't fail to save the pick, even if you have to go under
yourself. Always save the best.

If you should chance to be thrown down a precipice, be sure
to hold your breath. I have never heard of a man's dying so
long as he held his breath. If anybody else is with you, it is
more comfortable to fall on top of the other fellow. As a
general thing, it is better for him to get damaged than your-
self. Unless there are some ameliorating circumstances, it
is commonly^ prudent not to alight on your head. By violating
this rule some have come to a premature demise. If necessary,
fall on your back, so as not to be sick at your stomach.

Don't die in the descent, as your life might be thus shortened,
and the prospect of recovery would be slight. If you die be-
fore you reach bottom, be resigned, and leave the funeral ar-
rangements to somebody else — especially the expenses. If
you have to die, let it be the last thing you do; and don't
repeat it. If the accident proves fatal, keep shy of collisions
in the future, since a man who suffers himself to undergo
more than one fatal injury is not prudent. I never knew a
man to recover from death by collision. If you are thrown
into the air. stay up there till things get quiet below. I know
no instance of anybody who heeded these precautions that did
not come out all right.

Collisions are not favorable to infidelity, as many a man
takes then his first lesson in praying. Prayers during a col-
lision should be brief. The New Theology does not seem to
flourish in the soil of a collision, nor does the Higher Criticism
take deep root.

II P.M. — Pillows and dreams that Toplofty Church
has raised the stipend of the Rev. Heredity Beans,
D.D., to $29,426.50 1-2 a minute and that it takes nine
deacons to carry the collection plate.

A Saturday's Diary 357

ii:io P.M. — Awakened by a knock at my door.
Dreams tumble into the cellar and I sit up with a start.
It is Polytechnic. I tell her that she ought to be
ashamed of herself to rouse me when she knows what
a terrible day I have had. She says she cannot help it
but Airs. Slowboy is downstairs and insists upon see-
ing me. I go to the door and yell downstairs to ask
Mrs. Slowboy what she wants. Says she has a no-
tice for a meeting of the Dorcas Society she wants
read at both services and is afraid I won't remember
them if she does not call my especial attention to them.
I answer her sweetly to the effect that indeed I will
not forget her, and go back to bed. Will I get through
the night without another interruption?

THE MANTLE OF ELIJAH

Chapter XXX.

I ALWAYS have believed that this world sadly needs
repairing, and under that irresistible conviction which
only the true reformer or the true prophet knows, I
resolved to give myself to the hazardous task of refor-
mation. Besides, what was the use of being pastor of
Goalong's most influential church unless I did some-
thing to rouse the town to an appreciation of its defi-
ciencies ? Accordingly I made my will and a few pre-
paratory plans and set out. The will simply left the
children to Polytechnic and the plans \n\\\ reveal them-
selves as this narrative proceeds.

My very first effort as a municipal reform crusader
was to visit the parsonage of the First Pharisaic
Church, on Tincup Alley, to confer with its pastor, the
Rev. Dr. Tomlins. Tomlins was a little womanish
sort of man, w^ith a passion for wTiting irreligious
books, under the guise of doctrinal works, and preach-
ing heretical sermons. His veracity had suffered
somewhat from dryrot, due to lack of exercise, and
his flock insinnated that in a crisis he would not ex-
press the entire truth. While making pretense of con-
siderable learning, he betrayed the profoundest igno-
rance of the Scriptures. He had no definite belief,
taught no definite Bible doctrine, claimed that it made
(3.58)

The Mantle of Elijah 359

no difference what a man believes, and doubted all the
fundamentals of evangelical religion.

"Tomlins," I said, as I walked into his study, "I'm
a prophet, and I have come to proclaim that the time
is come for judgment to begin at the house of God —
and thou art the man ! Your preaching is doing more
harm than avowed infidelity. Hear the words of a
prophet. Don't you think you have lived long enough ?
Don't you think you made a mistake in not dying some
years ago ? See if you can't correct the mistake in the
near future. Think of the advantages of dying ! How
many people would reap untold benefit! How many
boys might be reclaimed! If your church doors were
closed what an immense gain to the public, and what
an improvement there would be in the observance of
our Sabbaths! This is the only line of usefulness
open to you, and the step is necessary to a reforma-
tion of the town. Pardon my enthusiasm, but I see
the great need. Seize the occasion, Tomlins ; it is the
opportunity of a lifetime. Yours in hope, good-by."

But Tomlins was too much dazed to reply, so I
stepped back to the street, fearing he would not have
sufficient ballast to do the sensible thing. Why won't
people do right?

The prophetic impulse waxed stronger and strong-
er, and my enthusiasm grew with the passing of each
hour. I went down the street shouting, "The town
must be reformed! Society must be redeemed! Pa-
gan customs must be abolished ! The images of Baal
must be cast down! The high places of sin must be
made low ! Our women must be civilized !"

As I reiterated these solemn exclamations, some of

360 Good Gumption

my most influential young men, by a preconcerted
arrangement, caused all the fire alarms to be sounded,
all the church bells to be rung, and all the factory
whistles to be blown; while, not understanding the
rumpus and therefore joining it, everything noisy in
the city voluntarily added whatever sound it could
make. The object of this demonstration was to at-
tract the attention of the people, and to enlist their
hitherto dormant energies in something besides busi-
ness and pleasure.

To emphasize the importance of the movement, I
began parading the streets with a banner on one side
of which were emblazoned the Ten Commandments
and on the other a cross, while a streamer of crape
floated from my hat, and a girdle of white ribbon en-
circled my waist. No Jonah ever pronounced surer
doom, and no Nineveh ever felt the thrill of greater
astonishment. Three thousand children left the pub-
lic schools, women gazed in awe out of windows, serv-
ants deserted the kitchens, nurses in consternation
abandoned baby carriages, barbers forgot their lath-
ered customers, judges and lawyers and jury forsook
the courts, business was suspended, newsboys dropped
their papers, merchants stood dumfounded in their
doors, cars came to a stand, vehicles blocked the
streets, dogs barked, curious throngs followed the ban-
ner with the strange device, and even reporters ceased
their search for scandal to learn what I was doing.

I halted my motley array of reform in front of the
"Daily Home News" building, and told it to make a
doleful noise. It did so and the editor fled into the
cellar. Now this same widely-circulated paper had

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362 Good Gumption

characterized a previous reform movement in which
I had participated as the dream of an enthusiast, and
had intimated that I, the reformer, ought to be put into
a reformatory. It seemed to be eminently proper to
disabuse the quill-driver's mind of this sarcasm; so,
after going to his office, I sent the office-boy into the
depths to solicit his employer's presence. The editor
appeared with flushed face, and in an irate tone de-
manded to know what I wanted.

"Mr. Editor," said I, as soon as silence could be se-
cured. ^'Society must be saved! The town must be
redeemed! Editors must be civilized! Newspapers
must be cleansed ! And therefore I want you to throw
the influence of your paper in behalf of reform."

'T must run my paper in the interest of its patrons ;
and what suits them suits me," he returned, endeavor-
ing to "make a bluff."

I told the crowd to yell again, and the editor trem-
bled at the sound.

"You decline, then," I went on, "to issue a civilized
paper ?

"I have to conduct my business on business princi-
ples. I must make money. I have a family, and it
can't live on corn cobs."

Again I told the mob to yell, and the editor's knees
began to quake.

"Then, Mr. Editor," T continued, "I must array the
best class of our citizens against you. Boys, how many
of you will cancel your subscriptions and withdraw
your advertisements ?"

"T II ! I ! I !" responded voices to the number of about
two hundred, and then my little army yelled some

The Mantle of Elijah 363

more. The journalist, at this, decided he had made
sufficient resistance.

"Er, I say, Mr. Beans, let me say a word," said he.
"I'll do this : I'll give you a column of the paper, first
page, in which to advocate your ideas and methods
without anv restriction or cost whatever. That's the
best I can do at this time.

"Thank you !" said I, for this was quite satisfactory,
and I moved ofif flushed with victory. The army scat-
tered and did some further yelling. A few of the bet-
ter class followed me home, pledging their hearty sup-
port, and forming a nucleus for the reformation. And
so I set to work to take the editor at his word.

In the next issue of the "Home News," on the first
page, there was a column headed, "REFORM DE-
PARTMENT, conducted by the Rev. Dr. H. Beans,
who assumes all responsibility for matter found in this
column." And this is what was found therein:

A CLEAN PAPER. NEEDED.

This paper has been run in the interest of
shams, frauds, lawlessness, vice, and drunkenness.
The reader will find in this issue a dozen adver-
tisements of saloons at which drunken revels are
held nightly, where scenes may be witnessed that
would disgrace a Hottentot or make a cannibal
blush. It is hoped that as soon as the editor be-
comes civilized, he will give the city a clean paper.
Let your subscription indicate what you think of
the Reform Movement, which has undertaken
the task of cleaning Goalong.

364 Good Gumption,

DR.. TOMLINS* OPPORTUNITY.

Yesterday the Rev. Dr. Tomlins was, on suffi-
cient grounds, requested to die at an early date.
Dr. Tomlins' intentions are not yet known, but
his fellow citizens hope he will think favorably
of the matter, and not miss so excellent a chance
of serving his generation. We all shall await the
issue with great anxiety, and in the meantime, let
every lover of progress and enlightenment en-
courage, by means of a postal card, the clergy-
man to act promptly and wisely. The pulpit must
be reformed !

YESTERDAY'S PRIZE-FIGHT.

There was a prize-fight at the old circus
grounds yesterday afternoon, witnessed by three
thousand of our worst citizens. The scene was a
reproduction of the Dark Ages,, and exhibited
the worst ethics of pagans. Its morals would
have shocked a Comanche Indian ; its brutality
would have disgusted a Bengal tiger. Both of
the participating cattle were badly bruised and
one seriously injured, but it is feared that he will
recover. A petition will be circulated to-day
praying the Legislature to enact human laws con-
cerning prize-fighting. All persons except bar-
barians will sign it. Public morals must be pro-
tected !

MASQUERADE BALL.

The Southside Armory last night was the
scene of a verv discreditable affair called a mas-

The Mantle of Elijah 365

querade ball, engaged in by certain so-called so-
ciety men and women of the city. Some of the
women are daughters of hitherto respected citi-
zens. Let all young men seeking wives avoid
these girls of the round dance; for what man
possessed of the sagacity of a mushroom wants
to marry a woman that's been handled a couple
of seasons or so ? There are two secondhand arti-
cles no gentleman wants — a chew of tobacco and
a girl. The revels continued until two o'clock in
the morning with all the marks of heathenism.
Society must be saved !

PROFANE DRUMMERS.

It has been reported that drummers stopping at
the Sawdust Hotel have rendered this noted old
hostelry unfit for gentle folk, and that they have
become so openly unclean and profane in their lan-
guage that the city should appoint officers to
guard them w^hile within its walls, lest all the
avenues of trade be corrupted. They are fast
ceasing to speak English, and seem to confine
their conversation to a swearing lingo. They are
most peculiar ; they go about smoking cigars and
gasping every few seconds, 'T'll be damned!" —
and, no doubt they will be. Any gentleman who
had to live in the same quarters with them would
commit suicide. It makes us weep to think of the
corrupting influences these obscene, profane,
gambling, drinking, boisterous human animals
will exert on the demons. No wonder they have

366 Good Gumption

to be chained to keep them in the place where
drummers go. The city must be cleansed !

MODERN BARBARISM.

Quite a large number of women continue to
appear on the streets with insufficient clothing,
resembling in quantity Oriental costumes, indica-
ting that the wearers had forgotten to complete
their toilet. The attention of the city authori-
ties has been called to this species of immodesty,
and hereafter females who go about the thor-
oughfares attired in low-necked dresses will be
in danger of arrest. The women must be clothed !

Attention is also directed to the depraved taste
evinced by persons, who otherwise would be re-
spectable, in the selection of pictures, statuary,
and books. Nine-tenths of the homes in the city
of Goalong are disfigured by nude statues and
immodest pictures. Half the calendars in the
town are indecent, and more than half the books
and magazines are saturated with sensationalism,
profanity, and impurity. Some of the things pic-
tured and printed on the walls and the book-
shelves of Goalong would corrupt a savage and
nauseate a buzzard. A roster of the houses
amenable to the above-mentioned charge will be
kept by the police to indicate the places to look
for criminals. The homes of the people must be
fumisrated !

't>'

THE THEATER.

A vaudeville performance will take place to-
night at the Academy of Music. Only the de-

The Mantle of Elijah 367

praved attend these exhibitions of shame. The
man or woman who has beheld the immoral pic-
tures on the sign boards, and then goes to see the
play, confesses thereby to a fall. The stage pan-
ders to the lowest tastes of mankind, and there is
not a moral theater in the world. The dress, tone,
and life of actors and actresses all savor of the
worst features of heathenism. The amusements
of the city must be scoured !

OBITUARY.

Another fraud is dead. Old Hunks Russell
will be buried at three o'clock this afternoon. Let
everything that hath breath praise the Lord!
How beneficent are the offices of Death to rid
the community of so consummate an octopus.
Russell started as a teacher in the public schools
of the city, got whipped by a boy he insulted, be-
came an officer in his church, robbed the eccle-
siastical treasury, started a brewery, gambled,
got rich, died, and is visiting his master, the
Devil, for an indefinite period. The more I know
of such people, the better I like dogs. Oh ! Tom-
lins, why dost thou linger? The public interests
must be guarded !

THE CITY CHAIN-GANG.

On our streets daily may be seen a small band
of industrious men, who, having forsaken all that
the earth holds dear, have been induced, under
stress of untoward circumstances, to unite in a

368 Good Gumption

society for mutual improvement, known in judi-
ciary circles as "the chain-gang." It is not al-
together a pleasing institution, yet it has, perhaps,
its advantages. It is, in the first place, one of the
few organizations that have as their sole object
the moral culture of its members. It seeks nei-
ther pleasure nor money. It works for others en-
tirely and attends strictly to its own business.

Its members are active and useful in a high
degree, as the construction of city pavements,
ditches, and public buildings will demonstrate.
They have done more for the town than all the
dudes, political tricksters, gossips, and revelers
put together. For this they have received scant
praise. But even at this tardy hour, let justice be
done, though the heavens fall. They are the best-
behaved people to be met on the street. They
have been, it is true, found guilty of some offences,
for which they are justly held to account, but
their vices are less conspicuous and heinous than
those of seventy-five per cent of the populace.

They do less harm than skeptical preachers like
Tomlins, rogues like Russell, politicians like our
mayor, Mr. Grafter, and Sabbath breakers like
many of our citizens in high life. A prize-fighter
cripples his opponent, and gets $5,000; a man in
the slums slaps his neighbor in the face, and gets
30 days. A speculator commits robbery by gam-
bling in futures, and takes a wife; another man
commits robbery by abstracting a chicken, and
takes a ball-and-chain. A successful swindler
steals half a million, and goes to the Legislature:

The Mantle of Elijah 369

a pauper steals a watermelon, and goes to jail.
No doubt this is due to the fact that Justice is
blindfolded. Lets help her out of her difficulty
and the real rogues into jail.

The chain-gang thus far has been too exclu-
sive; it should be enlarged so as to be of greater
benefit to society, and include all frauds, dealers
in liquor, corrupters of youth, swearers, writers
of vicious literature, and all people that have been
untrue to their marriage vows. Hitherto the
wrong people have joined the gang; but hence-
forth let the city fathers see to it that its ranks
are recruited from brown-stone fronts and gilded
offices, so that the best interests of the town be
conserved. Reform must triumph!

Thus closed my editorial work, which required
somewhat more than the allotted space. The carriers
had hardly delivered the morning paper, when I be-
gan to realize what the prophet meant by the "burden
of the word of the Lord." It dawned upon me what
it costs to be a reformer. My fellow citizens were an-
gry with me because I had laid down some general
principles of ethical conduct which a tame hyena would
admit; my philanthropy, however, awakened only in-
gratitude and abuse. It was again the question of the
ancient seer, "Who hath believed our report?"

Things began to happen around the residence of
the Reverend Heredity Beans, D.D., after the ''Daily
Home News" had been well read throughout town.
So much happened, indeed, that until the Reverend

Heredity got into harness again and began to do

24

370 Good Gumption

things himself I can only give a brief account, so I
copy from my diary as follows :

p:^o o'clock. — At late breakfast, eating scrambled
eggs and corn bread — an interruption is unsavory at
such a time — the door-bell jingles. Wax answers it.
He delays his return. Back later — flushed face and a
smile. "W^hat's the matter, Wax?" inquires his
frightened mother. "Oh! 'taint nothin', ma. Just
the Mayor's cub brought a message to pa, that he'd
better not come down the street until he 'pologized
for that insult he — I mean pa — put in the "Home
News" about him — I mean the mayor." "But that
didn't make your face so red, did it?" "Nom'e; but
you see, that kid said his daddy was goin' to bust my
daddy ; and I busted him — I mean the kid. That was
all, ma." "My son," say I, "have you forgotten that
your father is trying to reform this town?"

10 o'clock. — The postman delivers a peck of letters.
All of Tomlins' friends and Russell's family demand
apologies. All the male kin of the women who at-
tended the masquerade ball and the theater address
me in vehement speech. Eight of the letters contain
challenges. I accept them all — weapons, squirt-guns ;
distance, quarter of a mile; backs facing, Bucephalus
second ; time, midnight.

11 o'clock. — Quick jerks at the bell. The parlor is
full of irate women. Two married ladies tell me that
I have caused trouble in their homes. Their husbands
have taken down some of the most costly pictures in
the house and thrown them into the ash barrel. Hard-
ly a calendar, even, can be found on the walls, while
three beautiful Cupids have been carted to the dump-

The Mantle of Elijah 371

ing ground. "Your husbands are wise and deserve
better spouses," I reply, showing them out. Next!
A dozen young women speak at once. Shut 'em off.
gag eleven and tell the twelfth to go ahead. She says :
"We have spent hundreds of dollars on our spring
costumes, and now they are perfectly useless on ac-
count of your awful criticisms. We are real indig-
nant. You know the low-necked dress is quite the
fashion, and just lovely ; and now we have to give them
to the servants !" "That's hard on the servants —
poor things!" I reply. "Better send them to the Afri-
can Kaffirs. Next!" Two frying-size girls, sobbing,
say their lovers have broken their engagements be-
cause they attended the masquerade ball the other
night, "just because you put something in the paper
about it. Oh! it's a shame!" "Yes, that's what I think
about it. Don't do so any more. Tell your sweet-
hearts to give you another trial, and promise them
you'll do better. Be good children ; good-by !"

AND WHAT IS MAN>

Chapter XXXI.

I RESOLVED to take the prophet's chances, and faced
the mob. As I opened the door and stepped on the
porch, a hundred weapons were leveled at my breast,
some female fists were shaken at me, and a couple
(possibly three) of brick-bats whizzed above my head.
I raised my hand to secure a hearing, for I felt I could
talk them into reason.

"Fellow-citizens," said I, "you look hungry. ["Yes,
and we've come here to eat you up. We like goose."]
Well, I feel sure I would not agree with you; but, if
you will throw yourselves in line with the reform
movement which is sweeping over the town, I promise
you a good square meal. [Cheers.]

"Do I hear some one in the crowd whisper that the
parson would have a lively time feeding fifteen hun-
dred people? Fellow patriots, I have on hand a bet-
ter scheme than that. It is this : Reform means bread
for the hungry, clothes for the naked, and shelter for
the houseless. Tt also means civilization and Chris-
tianity. Most of us are born savages, and stay so till
we die. ["Say, do you mean us?"] No, I mean those
uncivilized people on the other side of town. The in-
habitants of this city are made up mostly of barba-
rians, fools, women, and dogs. ["Is yer 'ludin' to my
(372)

And What Is Man? 373

ole 'oman, Cap'n ?"] No, I'm talking about that wom-
an on the other side of the street. ["Then you're
p'intin' at my ole gal."] Oh, no; I'm speaking of that
family that lives on another street. ["But how about
that good square meal?"]

"Well, gentlemen, I believe that those who have
made you hungry, ought to feed you. ["That's
right!"] The saloons have, furnished you drink, but
have given you no bread. They have stirred your pas-
sions, and taken advantage of the storm raised by my
effort to save society, to send you here to abuse me
and check the movement. Russell's brewery is at the
bottom of it. ["That's so! That's so!"] This is all
the evidence I want. Now, my friends, in anticipa-
tion of something like this, I have made arrangement
to have served, at short notice, a good, square dinner
at the Sawdust Hotel at the expense of the Russell
estate. The executor knows that he will do well to
get off so lightly, for he has committed, in organizing
this riot, one of the gravest oft'ences known to the law.
["Fried oysters for me!" "Chicken and gravy for
me!" "Turkey hash and 'taters fur me!" "Gimme er
good, squar dinner and some trimmin's in de shape of
ice cream and cake!"] Yes, you shall have that and
more too. Bring your wives and children and kin and
friends. Dinner will be ready at two o'clock.

"This afternoon, after you have eaten, I shall have
work for you to do. Put on your best clothes and
whet your appetite. ["Now, parson, this thing won't
be complete 'cep'n' Mrs. Beans comes down and sits
at the head of the table to give it 'spectability."] All
right ! She'll be on hand to see that you get plenty of

374 Good Gumption

coffee." [''Three cheers for Mrs. Beans! Three
cheers for the parson! Three cheers for reform!"]

The news of the feast spread hke wildfire to every
factory and shop in the city. A free dinner and a band
of music have pecuhar attractions for the major por-
tion of mankind ; it was, therefore, not difficuU to im-
press bosses with the opportuneness of a half-hoHday.

According to notice, at i :45 o'clock, the laboring
people, together with a multitude that were not labor-
ers, came streaming through the streets and alleys, as '
thoroughly pagan as any mob that ever defiled through
the gates of ancient Babylon: with the same hopes,
pleasures, ideals, and pretty much the same gods;
moved by the same impulses, governed by the same
prejudices ; in the same way tools in the hands of any
leader — threatening a reformer in the forenoon, fol-
lowing him in the afternoon. What is man ?

The crowd was to form in line of march at Blizzard
Square. The band led, followed by the children ; then
came the women, many of whom carried babes in their
arms ; last came the males. Some of the stronger sons
of toil elevated me on their shoulders while the women,
determined not to be outdone by the sterner sex, raised
Polytechnic to the same honor. As I unfurled a small
United States flag which I bore in my hand, the band
struck up "The Star-Spangled Banner," and my mot-
ley army raised a yell that made the welkin ring. We
reached the hotel in perfect order, and not a man, not
a woman, nor a child was missing, for the god Pan
has always a good congregation.

Of course, it required time and tact to handle this
immense concourse of humanity, but there was never

And What Is Man? 375

a better-behaved set of heathen this side tlie moon.
Polytechnic superintended the coffee, while some of
the most cultured young men and women from the best
churches in the city assumed the role of waiting on the
rabble and toilers, to the infinite delight of all.

Jovial expressions passed from lip to lip, and mirth
was plentiful : "If this is reform, put me an' my wife
down for a few of it!" "Yes, I'll take a couple!"
"'An' if this be civilization, I want my ole 'oman's cup-
board full of it!" "An' faith, this is the fust time I
iver filt that I wus er gintlemun!" exclaimed a round-
faced Irish matron.

The dinner, at length, was finished and the crowd
was Happy. It was the hour for reformation — ^you
can't reform a hungry man — so standing in the center
of one of the tables, surrounded by the wreck that fol-
lows in the wake of hungry crusaders, I opened fire
with oratory again.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I shouted; "I wish to
speak a word about the reform movement that is
sweeping through the city. I rely on your cooperation
for success. ["And you shall have it, parson."] I
want to start with the babies. ["An' faith, do ye ba
afther reformin' the babbies, mon?"] Yes; I want to
reform the little ones. All babies are born heathen,
and unless removed from their environment, most of
them will stay so. ["An' it's er fact, as shure as I
spake the English linguage. They needs er fray din-
ner ivery now* an' thin."]

"If your children remain where they are, they will
grow up to be just like their parents, and the town
cannot be civilized. Many of you are overstocked

376 Good Gumption

with offspring, while there are in the town numerous
couples that are childless, and an army of old bach-
elors, all of whom ought to share the burden of rear-
ing children. The responsibilities of life ought in
some measure to be equalized. Now, I'm going to
borrow all the babies that are insufficiently clothed,
fed, or housed.

'*Ha ! ha ! ha !" went all over the hall like a galvanic
shock. "It's er good idee !" exclaimed a hundred tired
and haggard mothers. "I kin lind ye saix," chimed in
the Irish lady.

In a few moments there were nine hundred and
forty-five babies pledged, to be disposed of as sug-
gested above. It was understood that they might re-
cover the infants when able to care properly for them.

"Now, fellow patriots," said I, in closing, "I call at-
tention to the approaching election, which is to deter-
mine whether rum shall rule our city any longer.
There is but one way for any man who has passed be-
yond the barbaric state to vote. What say you, gen-
tlemen?" Many were non-committal, but a goodly
number pledged me their support.

My variegated host next paraded the streets for
about two hours to the sound of martial music. The
women deposited their babies where they thought they
would be best provided for, rang the bell, and stepped
back into the procession. At the mayor's office, the
Irish sister, among others, donated a pair of twins, to
the hilarious amusement of many spectators. The
babes were generally taken up by servants or the
housewife, but occasionally by the master of the house
himself. In such cases eyes wildly flashed fire, lips

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378 Good Gumption

spake unsavory words, and tongues pronounced anath-
emas on the humble reformer.

The next mail flooded me with compliments which I
prefer not to repeat. Offended husbands and old
bachelors sent me twenty-seven more challenges and
I accepted all of them on the same conditions as pre-
viously stated. Next I nerved myself for a duel with
King Rum.

The temperance wave some little time before had
reached the city of Goalong, which fact tossed and
mixed and conglomerated things in no small degree.
Parties had been formed in favor of the saloon, and
parties had been as promptly formed with the deter-
mination of destroying the saloon. The contest regis-
tered so high on the political thermometer that every
citizen was forced by public sentiment to take sides
for or against the monster, that had been, with pass-
ing years, more and more defiantly menacing the lib-
erty and civilization of the republic.

As for myself, being by nature a reformer, I en-
tered now into the struggle with tireless zeal. I spoke
in private on the subject, and I preached and lectured
in public ; besides, I wrote about a peck of articles on
the question in its various phases every week for the
daily papers. The grog men, not appreciating my ef-
forts to redeem the city from the jaws of ruin, threat-
ened to burn my parsonage and take my life. On one
occasion, as I was returning home after nightfall;
some individuals of the baser sort stoned me; while
on another, as I was leaving church after evening
service, a couple of hired bravoes shot at me — and
ran ; so that's the reason I didn't run myself.

And What Is Man? 379

My stand on the temperance question made me a
leader in the fierce struggle in which the town was en-
gaged. The rum-sellers feared and hated me; they
burned me in effigy ; they swore that, if the impending
election went against them, they would write my obit-
uary in my own blood; and in addition to these com-
pliments, they serenaded me with bacchanalian songs.
So intense was the feeling of the dram-sellers toward
me on account of the cause I esp.oused, that, while I
was passing down Grog Avenue the night before the
election, on my way to address a meeting on the sub-
ject of voting liquor out of the city, some roughs threw
a dynamite bomb between my legs. The shell, from
some cause, failed to explode ; but I didn't. I jumped
five feet, eight inches into the air and uttered a war
whoop. The liquor men ran together to see what had
become of my bones, and then disappeared.

"Fm blown to pieces!" I screamed rushing down
the avenue, lined with bar-rooms, *'my bones are scat-
tered all over the city!" And as I fled, I kicked a
dozen saloon windows to atoms, unable to control the
action of my limbs.

Arriving at the Opera House, the immense crowd
there greeted me with deafening applause as I as-
cended the rostrum to make the closing speech of the
campaign. Never had public speaker a more refined
and cultured audience on the one hand, or a more be-
sotted and diabolical set of roughs on the other. Brave
men gave me their hand ; anxious mothers prayed for
me; beautiful maidens smiled on me; the votaries of
the rum-shops hissed me; while the Irish lady spoke
out in meeting, and said: "If I niver smoile agin, me

380 Good Gumption

old mon shill vote aginst the rummies, fur this is the
gintlemun that borrowed the babbies!"

"Ladies and gentlemen," I began. "I realize to-night
as never before, that, in a large measure, the destiny
of the race depends upon the success of the temper-
ance movement. If the rum traffic is not suppressed —
and it can be suppressed only by the omnipotence of
the ballot box — the nation will deteriorate into a herd
of red-noses, and the Millennium will be retarded
twenty-five centuries.

"Look for a moment at the sad condition of the
United States. The bloody hand of Rum has clutched
the throat of this republic. The mighty giant of
strong drink has placed his tyrannic heel on the lofty
head of the American eagle, so that the national bird
flaps its wings hopelessly in the dust of humiliation.
The influence of liquor is felt from Washington to
San Francisco, and from the Golden Gate to the Phil-
ippine Islands. Strong drink is king in Congress as
well as in our jury boxes. It rules the brown-stone
front as truly as the hovel of the back street. Bacchus
is one of the chief of the American deities, honored by
nine-tenths of the politicians.

"Fellow-citizens, do you believe your ears when I
declare to you, from the remorseless table of statistics,
that there are in this country 500,000 rum-sellers go-
ing about, like their venerable progenitor, seeking
whom they may devour? What think you of the
800,000 drunken paupers and children, costing the
tax-payers $100,000,000? \\'hat think you of the
300,000 intemperate criminals, who live, not by their
means, but by their meanness ? ^^^hat think you of the

And What Is Man? 381

100,000 American youths who are demonized every
year by strong drink? What say you, fellow-citizens,
when our people spend more money on liquor than on
clothing, bread, education, and religion, all put to-
gether? With what emotion do you learn that 60,-
000 drunkards die every year ?

"Ah ! ladies and gentlemen, don't your hearts heave
a sigh of compassion for the lost angels that are forced
to live amid such corrupting influences ? How terrible
a place the Bottomless Pit must be, when to its census
are added 60,000 drunkards every year! Who can
blame Satan for trying to break the chains that con-
fine him to such a crowd ?

"They tell us of moral suasion. Gentlemen, you
had just as well preach the Ten Commandments to a
hungry mosquito, as to -appeal to the moral sense of a
sot or a bar-keeper, I have tried the experiment, but
with small success. On one occasion, seeing Pat
O'Kelley in the gutter conversing with a toad, I re-
solved to reform him. I hired a dray to bring Pat to
the parsonage, and had him put into a nice clean bed,
intending to doctor him with moral suasion.

"So, next morning, after having given Pat a suit
of clothes and a hat, I had his shoes blacked, and put
him at the foot of the table, to make him feel the
weight of responsibility. I thought Pat belonged to a
large class of people that the world had neglected too
long, and that such persons must be reformed and
made respectable. I gave Pat a Bible, and took him to
prayer meeting. He told the congregation that I was
the making of him, and he had a mind to preach.
Next morning forty-seven sots came to the parson-

382 Good Gumption

age to get breakfast, a suit of clothes, and have their
shoes blacked, all having a mind to preach. It seemed
that the town would go distracted, and that the whole
earth was turning to righteousness. But I fixed up
the sots, and told them to meet me at the temperance
lodge Tuesday night. But before Tuesday night
came, these reformed drunkards each wanted to bor-
row ten dollars from me; but as I didn't have funds
enough to go round at that rate, I let them have two
dollars and a half each. Well, that was the last of
these gentlemen ; and Pat — why, he got so respectable
and so thoroughly reformed that he eloped Saturday
night with my silver watch and Sunday breeches.

"My friends, our legislation on the strong drink
question is a miserable botch, and I assert, without
fear of successful contradiction, that a one-legged
goose in a frosted pea-field could hatch up a better set
of laws in ten seconds. But the geese that fiock to our
Legislatures have not so much good gumption. Not
observing the slim influence of moral suasion on them-
selves, they quack to us that we must use it.

"Gentlemen, why not employ the same suasion in
handling all other evils? The law appoints a police
force in the towns to maintain order, and then sets up
a dram-shop to kick up a fuss. The law demands or-
der, and then licenses the saloon to create disorder.
The law builds an orphan asylum, and then makes or-
phans to put in it, by licensing an institution to kill
their fathers. The law permits the grog-seller to up-
set the reason, and then builds an insane asylum. The
law condemns divorce, and then sufTers the saloon to
unfit the husband for married life. The law smiles on

And What Is Man? 383

a business that trains a man for murder, and then
hangs the murderer. Isn't that wisdom on a high
key? If a man give his neighbor a fatal dose of
strychnine, he must take a swing, but if he give his
neighbor a fatal drink, destroying both body and soul,
the strong arm of this great government fondles and
protects him, and says in blandished strains, 'Go it,
boots; do it again!' Gentlemen, such a law is a fit
emetic for the Apostate Angel !

"The great Paul said, 'Beware of dogs!' I say in
behalf of decency and humanity, 'Beware of such dog-
kennels !' Better turn loose a pack of bloodhounds in
the community; better infest the streets with deadly
serpents ; better let a thousand rotting lepers run ram-
pant on the highways, than to permit these institu-
tions of barbarism to continue their mission.

"You sots and grog-sellers of the city of Goalong,
what have you and your kind done for America ? You
have broken the hearts of tens and hundreds of thou-
sands of mothers in this fair land, who to-night are
sobbing over their drunken sons. You have turned
the husbands of unnumbered wives into pestilential
carcasses. You have clothed myriads of children in
rags, and converted happy homes into boneyards.
Walk through the orphan asylums, peopled with your
victims ; enter the jails, and see the criminals you have
made ; go to the pest-houses, and see the work of your
hands ; visit the gallows, where you ought to spend a
quarter of an hour, and look at the ghosts of your
murdered patrons ; frequent the burning Tartarus, and
behold the fires you have kindled, and hear the sigh-
ings of the damned !

384 Good Gumption

"Fellow-citizens of this noble old city! Buckle on
the temperance armor ! Rouse you for the fight ! The
battle is between right and wrong; between liberty and
slavery; between home and the dram-shop; between
God and the Devil. On the coming morrow, rush to
the polls, and vote the accursed villainy out of town
forever. And the God of battles grant that this may
be a red-letter day in our calendar, and in the history
of our achievements a great Waterloo."

Honestly I didn't mean a joke when I said Water-
loo, but some of my hearers thought I purposely
meant' to indicate the kind of fluid Goalong would
drink after election. The impression this speech made
on my audience must be imagined ; it cannot be de-
scribed. The grog men hooted and hissed; they
stamped their feet and cursed ; but the friends of tem-
perance shouted, and laughed, and hurrahed. The
ladies blessed me as strong men bore me through the
streets on their shoulders.

Next day, after much maneuvering and earnest
voting, it was discovered, about five o'clock in the
afternoon, that the temperance cause had won a signal
victory. Of course, in the midst of such excitement,
I lost my equipoise, and set out down the street, with
Polytechnic's everyday sun-bonnet on, whooping and
shouting and cracking my heels together like a ten-
year-old boy.

The reform movement was triumphant; yet in the
midst of my joy, a dark shadow settled over my home.
Wax, with broken heart and streaming eyes, came
rushing into my study, announcing in sobbing accents
that Bucephalus was dead. Tt was as if death had vis-

And What Is Man? 385

itcd my own family. Bucephalus was nearly of my
own age, having passed with me through the changes
of an eventful life. He had grown old under my sad-
dle, had become a pet with Polytechnic and the chil-
dren, and seemed to regard himself as a member of
the household, entitled to all of its joys and its privi-
leges. So I decided to take him back to our old home
at Shakerag, and, ha\'ing conveyed him thither, fol-
lowed by the entire family in tears, gave him an honor-
able sepulture in the little cemetery there. And T
placed a neat plank at the head of the grave, and in-
scribed on it these true words :

IN MEMORY OF BUCEPHALUS.

Thou leavest an honored name ; thy part thou liast

well performed ; thou goest to thy grave in

peace : and tliy memory shall endure

when more ambitious names are

dead. Faithful mule,

farewell !

25 -

SHOUTING CHURCH'S FATE

Chapter XXXII.

As I was departing from Shakerag, having buried
my mule, I descried in the distance an old man sitting
under a wide-spreading oak, with his forehead rest-
ing on his left hand, absorbed in meditation. Upon
approaching, I recognized Brother Safety Valve, of
former years; and being wearied, I alighted to ex-
change courtesies with my father's friend and mine.
He reminded me of Elijah lodging under the juniper
tree, the very picture of a prophet of a past genera-
tion, over whose whited locks a hundred storms had
swept, and in whose soul a hundred dreams had burst.
He looked up as I dismounted and a little pleasure
gleamed upon his face.

"Red," said he, "I'se mighty proud to see you onct
mo' in this life. How is the good Lord dealin' with
you, son?"

"I'm sure it's a privilege to meet you again, Uncle
Safety. How are you getting along, and what's the
news about Shouting Church?"

"Ah me !" sighed the aged man, shaking his snowy
locks for very grief. "Shouting Church is like unto
the seven churches of Asia, which was blotted ofif'n
the face of the airth fur thar wickedness. Ah! Red.

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388 Good Gumption

the vial of the Ahiiighty's wrath has been emptied out
on ole Shouting Church at las'. Ah me !" ^

At the l)are mention of that name the old man's
cheek turned ashen, while his staff fell from his right
hand. He looked the ver}- picture of vain regret. His
eyes filled with tears, which flowed down his cheeks.

"What in the world is the matter now, Uncle
Safety?" I asked.

"Mercy, chile! What ain't the matter?"

"Do tell me. Uncle Safety. It makes no difference
how sad the news may he. Tell me all.''

"Well, Red, long afore yo' day, an' atter yo' day,
too, so fur as that is consarned, a set of religious job-
bers, that's what I calls 'em, come traipsin' through
the Ian', pullin' everybody into the church, makin' reli-
gion so dead cheap, that the man, 'oman, or chile that
couldn't git it, didn't have the al^ihty of er average
dirt-dauber. If a man said he believed in the man-in-
the-moon, these jol)bers said it was sufficient, an' afore
he could sneeze, they haltered him up, an' led him into
the church."

"Didn't they instruct the people on the subject of
repentance?"

"Bless you, dear! That wasn't the right tune to
bring converts in rapid. They didn't have no time to
let a mourner repent. No, chile ; they had a patent
process which fotch 'em through in ten minutes."

"How long did these patent converts hold out?"

"In gen'ally, I s'pose, from one to six weeks. In
that time the froth was clean wore off, an' the sow re-
turned to her wallerin' in the mire. Fur erwhile,
things 'peared oncommon prosperous, an' it looked as

Shouting Church's Fate 389

how the Millennium was jes round the corner; but,
chile, the Spirit of the Lord wasn't thar, an' righteous-
ness has kerwalloped herself, an' tooted her far'well
horn 'bout ole Shouting Church."

"Don't you approve of revivals. Uncle Safety?"

"Thar now! chile. Revivals, whar thar is the good
Spirit an' common sense an' decency, is altogether an-
other matter. But arthquakes an' volcanoes an' fools
an' hypocrisy is what ole Safety's er talkin' 'bout.

"What else, Uncle Safety?" inquired I, anxious to
hear the conclusion of the whole matter.

"Well, er heap of things ; I hardly know whar to
begin. Fust an' fo'must, howsomever, er sort of ri-
valry got hatched up betwixt St. Bootjack's Chapel
an' Shouting Church. An' it started on this wise:
The St. Bootjackers got to coaxin' mighty nigh all
the childun in the neighborhood to thar church of er
meetin' days, givin' 'em sugar rags an' gimcracks an'
one thing an' tother, ontel Shouting Church Sunday
School come in er ace of runnin' dry an' bustin' up.
So the Shouting Churchers — an' here's whar the Devil
come in — up an' detarmined to have er Christmas tree
fur to fetch the childun back. I has noticed that the
Devil is mighty fond of trees, my boy. You know how
it was in the garden, when the ole sarpent p'inted out
the tree of knowledge to Eve. Sometimes he 'sumes
the form of pride, an' loiters under what folks calls
f am'ly-trees ; an' the nex' shrub he clum was the
Christmas tree."

"So you had the Christmas tree?"

"W^hat? Me have er Christmas tree? Ole Safety
Valve, who is jes turned his eighty-fust year, an' has

390 Good Gumption

been er fightin" fur Zion these three-quarters of er
century all but ? Not me, chile."

"Who managed it, then. Uncle Safety?"

"Bless you, chile ! I think Ole Nick was in the top of
it, an' all the dancers and ungodly professors in the
county at the bottom of it. Members what never
'tended meetin' from one revival to another was the
chief cooks. It was er monstrous frolic."

"Did it draw the children back?"

"Draw ? Sakes alive ! It drawed every chile in ten
mile of Shouting Church. The superintendent 'lowed
how every child who was present on the Sunday befo'
Christmas would be entitled to a gift on the tree. Ac-
cordin'lv, at the meetin' befo' the tree doin's was to
come off, thar was seven hundred childun at Sunday
school, buzzin' like er set of bumblebees. Draw?
Yes, chile; it drawed like er mustard plarster."

"Were the children pleased with the tree?"

"Might'ly fur er couple of days; an' they made the
neighborhood lively, tootin' thar tin horns, bangin'
thar drums, and bustin' thar pop-crackers. But after
that, they 'lowed how nuther the superintendent nur
nobody else could fool them with ten-cent toys. So
on the nex' Sunday atter the Christmas tree thar
wasn't enough to make er decent pie."

Here the venerable old man, in whose composition
there was a rich vein of genuine humor, pausing in the
narrative he had become so much interested in, lit his
pipe, and leaned his snowy locks against the tree to
rest awhile. After a few moments of apparently deep
reflection, he resumed the thread of the story.

"That ain't all, nuther," said he.

Shouting Church's Fate 391

"What else, Uncle Safety?" said 1, profoundly in-
terested myself.

"Well, some of 'em what does er pile of things 'sides
sayin' thar pra'rs, tuck er notion that the church
needed er hundud spittoons fur the terbacker-chawers
an' snufit-dippers to dreen tharselves into durin" di-
vine sarvice, as if the chief part of it was to spit ruther
than pray. So the conference 'p'inted er committee of
five sisters to hatch up er way to git the necessary
money ; an' what er committee of five women can't
hatch up, in my judgment can't be hatched. They's
wus'n er incubator. Tn kose they had er plan on
foot by nex' conference, to buy all the spittoons in the
United States all but; an' Canady, too."

"Wliat was it. Uncle Safety?"

"Well, chile, they rigged up er carumpus they called
er church festival. They charged er dime to go in, er
dime to stay in, an' er dime to come out. They sole
ice cream an' lemonade an' gingercakes .fur ten times
what they was wuth ; an' if you gin 'em a five-dollar
bill to change, the sassy gals would scoot off on tiptoe,
turn up thar nose at 3^011, an' laugh fit to kill thar-
selves, but never gin you er cent of change back. If
you axed 'em fur it, they w^ould up an' put thar thumb
to thar nose, an' wiggle thar little finger at you, sayin'
they was makin' money fur the Lord."

"I suppose they bought the spittoons?"

"Yes, bless you ! An' then they detarmined to raise
mo' money, to put up a horse-rack in the churchyard,
when thar was no mo' need of a horse-rack than thar
was of a locermotive. But they thought the church
wouldn't let 'em dance, so they sot up fur another

392 Good Gumption

frolic in the shape of er festival or fa'r, or some sich
mess. An' they picked out all the plumpest an" buxom-
est gals in the bunch, an' sot "em in charge of the
wheel of fortune, an" the art gallery, an" the post
orfis, an' sich like. The gal what turned the wheel of
fortune, showed the fellows who they was gwine to
marry, whilst the gal at the post orfis handed 'em out
er letter from thar sweethearts. In kose, every ole
bachelor an' widower an' all the young bucks in the
community stood 'roun', pay in' twenty-five cents to
have thar fortunes told an' make the gals giggle.
Mind you, I ain't ob lectin' to the voung folks havin' er
little fun, but I think it's onreasonable fur 'em to have
it at the expense of the Lord."

"They put up the horse-rack, I suppose?" said I.

"Put it up? Bless you! They put up half er dozen
of 'em ; an' when they got tired puttin' up horse-
racks, they said the church steeple ought to be made
er leetle higher. So in kose er passel of gals was
'p'inted to rig up another scheme fur mo' money. An'
what vou think it was this time?"

"I have no idea. Uncle Safety ; it's hard to tell what
a committee of girls will do."

"That's er p'int-blank fac', chile; an' I speck I bet-
ter let the matter drap right on the spot."

"Don't stop. Uncle Safety."

"\A'ell, chile," said the old man, straightening up.
"it was on this wise : Thar was er man to be hung down
at Toadville, an' you know Toadville ain't nowhar
from Shouting Church ; an' in kose a monstrous crowd
was expected at the hangin'. So the gals di skivered
thar was er mio;"htv chance to rake er sisfht of monev

Shouting Church's Fate 393

fur the church; an" on hangin' day they rented all the
groun's fur some considerable distance roun' the jail,
an' charged twenty-five cents admission. Thar was er
lot of scrawny cedar trees in the space erbout the jail,
which they called 'resarved seats,' an' whosomever
clum up 'em had to pay fifty cents extry. So, if you
b'lieve ole Safety, every cedar tree was filled tell the
limbs was erbout to break ofif, an' the groun' erroun'
'em was packed fur two hundred yards er mo'.

"Ah!" moaned the old veteran, "they built the stee-
ple higher, but it was another repertition over ag'in of
the Tower of Babel. It was fur the pride of man, not
the glory of God : so br'iles, an' variances an' confu-
sions, an' misonderstandin's an' sich like sprung up
among the members, ontel thar was no peace nur
union amon'st 'em. An' the church went down, down,
down — fust one withdrawin', then another, tell the
church completely busted up, an' is now advertised in
the county paper fur sale. It makes my ole heart
blee'— "

Here old Safety gave vent to his tears, and, apply-
ing his well-used handkerchief to his eyes, wept and
so1)bed over the ruins of his Zion.

I resumed my journey, my own eyes moistened, and
after a ride of several miles came in sight of Shouting
Church, over whose closed doors was nailed a broad
plank, on which was written in large black characters :

FOR SALE!

MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY

Chapter XXXIII.

It was a winter night, and 1 sat by the fire in my
study. As the embers glowed in the open fireplace, i
mused, something like this :

The great have made their record, and been gath-
ered to their fathers; the wise have shone like stars,
whose light now is quenched in darkness. Adam is
dead; Moses is dead; Washington is dead; Tennyson
is dead; Bismarck is dead; Queen Victoria is dead;
the wise, the great, the noble, the geniuses, are dead
or dying — and I don't feel very well myself. H'm. I
thought, I must prepare materials for my biography.
It's a debt I owe to my fellow-countrymen and to pos-
terity. So I turned to my beloved wife.

''My dear, get your pen, ink, and pad," I said. ' T
want you to jot down a few items which I neglected
to give to my biographer, the Rev. Dr. Squeedunk,
who is to ])ul)lish my 'Life' when T am no more."

Myself (dicfafijig) : Nothing would Jiave been
more out of accord zvitJi the feelings of the Rei'erend
Heredity Beans, D.D., [be sure you write D.D. dis-
tinctly; it means a heap, you know] than to have the
story of Jiis life rehearsed before the public. So mod-
est, so gentle, so shrinking, he has made it difficult for
his biographer to secure first-hand materials: and but
for the fact that they are so abundant elsezvhere ive
(394)

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396 Good Gumption

should despair of ever knowing the man in his true
greatness. He ahvays avoided publicity, and never
took part in the questions of the day, unless com-
pelled to do so by force of circumstances. [What
are you laughing at, Polly?] The boy Heredity zvas
precocious to an unusual degree. His teachers zvere
under the necessity of restraining him from overtax-
ing his brain, so diligently did he study.

Polytechnic: I thought you told Wax the other
day that he must not be discouraged with his lessons,
that when you were a boy you could never see any
sense in them either. And I understand trigonometry
now better than you do, sir.

Myself: But you see we ain't writing your biog-
raphy, little Miss Smarty. Now, quit laughing and
go on writing: On one occasion, an oz'erbcaring
schoolmate began zvithout cause to abuse young Beans,
and jerking his hat from his head tossed it into the
mud, threateniuii him with blows. He bore this in-
sidt patiently, for it was against his high sense of
Jionor to hgJit. Had he followed the bent of his otvn
fiery nature, he woidd have resented this insult and
fought to the bitter end; but he obeyed principle rath-
er than passion. Beans retired to his room weeping
great tears. The more he thought over the insult, the
more angry he became. He could scarcely restrain
himself: Jiis nerz'cs tzvitched. He clinched his fists
and started for the door, intending -to thrash the
zvicked boy; but again he bozved to the sacredness of
right, and sat dozvn. It zvas painful, but it zvas he-
roic. A second time the great pent-up fire began to
consume him. In righteous rage he started for the

My Autobiography 397

door, intending to make jelly of his foe.. He opened
the door, saw the boy, ivent back, locked the door, sat
down, and reproached himself. It zvas a great strug-
gle, but it zuas also a sublime triumph. The boy
knocked angrily at the door. Young Beans' first im-
,pulse was to go out, and with one fell blozv slay his
persecutor. It was a quick, hard struggle between
vengeance and forgiveness. Finally forgiveness tri-
umphed— and flic heroic youth jumped out of the win-
dow.

Polytechnic: AMiy, Red, everybody will think you
ran from the boy.

Myself: Do you think so? Then, put it this way:
The boy knocked at the door. Patience and forgive-
ness could endure the strain no longer. Young Beans
jerked the lock off the door in his haste to resent the
insult he hod received, rushed at the boy like an un-
caged tiger, and, with clinched fist, knocked the boy,
tzvice his siae, ten feet into the air. The youth fell
zvith a great thud to the ground, zvhereupon our hero
put his antagonist's head betzveen Jiis legs and zvore
out a blue-back speller on his quivering person. When
at last the boy zvas free, moved zvith terror, he ran
and jumped through Red Beans' zvindozv and hid in a
chicken-coop.

Polytechnic: Why. Red Beans! Ain't you
ashamed?

Myself: \Miat, Polly, dear? Don't you see that
sounds better? Now, do please stop that laughing,
and write fast: I may die any time. At the first call
of his country. Heredity volunteered his services, and
jollied that immortal cavalry company, knozvn in his-

398 Good Gumption

tory as The Tiger Dragoons. Thrice lie was elected
captain, and thrice refused. He cared nothing for titles
and the tinsel of zvar, but was ambitions only to cross
swords with the enemy. His military genius displayed
itself in all of the hundred battles in zvhicli lie fought,
but it zvas at the battle of ChanceUorsville that he won,
his most enduring fame and brightest laurels. The
enemy zi'as pressing hard on our lines: and the Dra-
goons, shot dozvn by a terrible fusillade of artillery,
zvere retreating zi'ith depleted numbers, z^'hcii young
Beans, sitting his Jiistoric mule like an Apollo, rallied
his dispirited comrades, and charged the death-gener-
ating battery on a distant Jiill, captured forty cannon,
turned them on the foe, and zuon tJie battle.

Polytechnic: AMiat a whopper!

Myself : T know ; but this is not intended to be a
history of the war — only a biography. Successful in
all departments of life, it z^'as in the pulpit that Beans
attained the most signal results. He zvas eloquent in
no small degree. It zvas impossible for the dullest
hearer to sleep under his ministry. He possessed all
the qualifications of the orator — his presence zvas
comnmnding. his voice resonant, his gestures grace-
ful, his rhetoric a model, his soul a pillar of -fire, liis
thought a cataract of logic ami emotion. He could
nez'er find a church that zvould accommodate the anx-
ious multitudes that fain zvould have hung upon liis
lips — and hundreds of disappointed zvorshipers every
Sabbath were turned away from the church doors.

Wax, Butter, and Lima: Pa, when was that?

Myself: Oh, bother, children! Don't you know
that T am not writing" up the church minutes, but just

My Autobiography 399

plain biography? Here's a nice new almanac; look at
the pictures. Let's go on, Polly: Beans zvas by na-
ture a poet. Had he cultivated the uiiise, he zvould
have made a name that li'ould have outlived time it-
self. He was a student of nature, in ivhich he found
the subjects of his art: and his most splendid poems
are based on eommon things. Hear him as he sings
in his ''Ode to a Bu::zard:"

Buzzard great and Bussard true,
Hozv I wish that I were you!
Arable bird of the black wing,
Take the tribute tliat I bring.

We see here the afflatus of the poet, the inspiration
of a true son of nature, and the genius of a master of
verse. Xo one can read these lines zvithout weeping.

We nozu turn to Dr. Beans as a husband.

Polytechnic: Oh me!

Myself: N^othing could have been more beautiful
than his family life. His consideration for Jiis z^'ife
marked him as a model husband. He sought to grati-
fy every desire of Jiis darling Polytechnic, especially
evincing Jiis ezrr deepening affection in tJic little
things of life, zvherein is shoz^ni the nmn's highest
Zi'ortJi. He sacrificed ezrrything for his zcife's com-
fort, and placed his time and money at her disposal.

Polytechnic: Red Beans, what system of ethics
do you follow? Don't you know, you lazy thing, that
often T have to pull you out of the bed and wash your
face to get your eyes open ?

Myself: But that wouldn't do to go into a biog-
raphy, my little cherub. Are vou ready to go on?
Now then: As a letter-zvritcr. lie has had fezv equals.

400 Good Gumption

A letter zvritten during a visit to New York, breathing
the tenderest affection, is here submitted as a speci-
men of his epistolary skill:

My angel Polly: I have spent weary days and sleep-
less nights longing to catch one glimpse of you again;
and though it has been but fzvo days since your
charms raz'ished my vision, it seems a dozen milletP-
niiims. Thus you discoz'er. that notzvithstanding zve
have been joyously married a number of years, my
loz'e gains momentum zvith each fleeting second, so
that, like a torrent, it is ever sivelling as it szveeps on-
ward to the seek I shall write you again in half an
hour.

Now write my parting words. [Why, you ain't
dead yet.] I know; but a biography must have an
end, and I think I foresee how it will be. Be quiet,
children. Polly, you are laughing too. Now write :
At last the end came, serene and beautiful. Death
was to such a soul a benediction. The birds seemed
to have a szveeter chirp, the clouds a softer gloiv, the
flozvers an intenser odor. The devoted wife and be-
loved children stood by the bedside, zvhere angels
seemed to be hovering on celestial wings. The heart
stopped, the spirit fled; but the last zvords of Heredity
Beans zvere:

'•THE WORLD IS ROUND AND FUNNY!"

(But all this was before T sat down to write this
real, true chronicle of my life.)

The End.

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