'There was music and mirth in the lighted saloon;
The measure was merry--our hearts were in tune;
While hand linked with hand in the graceful quadrille,
Bright joy crowned the dance, like the sun on the rill,
And beamed in the dark eyes of coquettes and snobs;
But the belle of the hall was Ann Harriet Hobbs.'
MRS. OSGOOD (with slight variation).
Bright shone the gas at Mr. Farnsworth's on the evening of the grand
_soiree_ given for the gratification of Ann Harriet, who was anxious to
see some of the beaux of Boston. Both of the parlor chandeliers were in
full blaze, much to the delight of Miss Hobbs, who, after gazing at them
in admiration, expressed the wish that her friend surnamed Pendergast
might see such a sight.
'That takes the shine all off of Miss Pendergasses' double back-action,
self-adjusting, anti-corrosive, herring-bone, powerloom lamp, don't it,
my dear cousin?' asked Gregory, who had been regaled several times with
an account of a wonderful lamp that burnt one hour at a cost of only ten
cents, or ten hours at a cost of one cent--Gregory never could remember
which.
'Now, Gregory, if you bother me so, I sha'n't tell you anything more;
please hand me that fan on the table, and tell me who that man is by the
corner of the mantelpiece.'
'That is Captain Dobbs; he is very fond of poetry, and has written some,
too; but it was never published, for the editors charged too much for
putting it into their papers. Shall I introduce him to you?' said
Gregory.
'A captain and a poet, too? Oh, certainly, I should be delighted to know
him,' replied Ann Harriet, who began to cool down her countenance by a
vigorous application of the fan, while Gregory went after the poetical
captain. He was soon back again, and presented him, as follows:
'Captain Dobbs, Miss Hobbs; Miss Hobbs, Captain Dobbs.'
The Captain bowed so low that Ann Harriet could see the brass buttons on
the back of his coat, and then, taking her hand, he said, earnestly:
'I rejoice exceedingly that our acquaintance with each other should have
commenced under such charming auspices!'
Now, they were standing directly under one of the beautiful chandeliers,
which glistened with brilliant pendants; and Ann, supposing that the
gallant Captain alluded to them, accordingly replied:
'Yes, they are very charming auspices, and make a beautiful jingle.'
What the Captain really alluded to was the rhyming of their names when
Gregory introduced them; the jingle of the rhyme pleased him much, and
he regarded it as propitious to their future acquaintance: Ann Harriet's
reply happened to suit the case precisely, and placed her in high
estimation with the Captain.
Drummond Dobbs was about thirty-two years of age, a gentleman, and a
right good fellow, but so _very_ sentimental that few ladies could
endure his company. Yet was he anxious to please the fair sex and be
popular with them: unfortunately, he supposed that the way to be so was
to shower on them love-sick poetry and sentimental speeches; 'he wore
his heart upon his sleeve,' fell in love with every new face, and had
been rejected a score of times; he comforted himself, however, with the
very scaly proverb, 'there is as good fish in the sea as ever was
caught,' and--cast in his line for another chance. He had tried poor
women and rich women, young school-girls and elastic old maids,
brunettes and blondes, but all in vain; and the moment he saw Ann
Harriet he determined to make one more attempt to secure a heart that
should beat for him alone, an ear that should be ever on the alert for
his footstep, and eyes that should sparkle only when he was near.
Ann Harriet, on her part, saw all in Captain Dobbs that she could wish
for; and she thought that if she could return to Peonytown with a live
captain as her affianced lover, she should be the happiest of fat girls.
What a sensation she would create on Sunday, when she went to meeting
arm in arm with him, and _how_ the folks would stare at his bright
buttons and shoulder straps! She wondered if he would wear a 'trainer
hat,' with feathers in it.
To Captain Dobbs, Ann Harriet Hobbs was 'a devilish fine-looking woman;'
there was something tangible in a woman like that, sir; _she_ was not
one of your flimsy, languid girls, with waist like the stem of a goblet.
Somebody had said,'the nearer the bone the sweeter the meat,' but he did
not believe in that; he wanted a _wife_, and if he could get one twice
the size of any one else's, so much the better, by Jove!
Gregory, with the tact of Young America, saw instantly what the result
of an evening's interview would be; so, telling Dobbs that he would find
his cousin from Peonytown very in-_fat_-uating, he left them to their
own enjoyment.
'It is very singular,' remarked the Captain, promptly, 'how much alike
our names are: Hobbs and Dobbs!'
'Yes; but I think that yours is much the prettiest; I always hated the
name of Hobbs,' remarked Ann Harriet.
'Hate Hobbs? Well, I detest Dobbs; but you have the advantage of me, for
you can change yours without much trouble,' replied the Captain.
He did not know that Ann Harriet had been longer, and at more trouble,
in trying to get her name changed, than if she had applied to seven
legislatures. She blushed deeply, and raised her fan to hide the rosy
hue--but it was a small, round fan, and only partially concealed her
face, leaving a crimson disk of two inches around it. Captain Dobbs was
delighted; a blush to him was a certain proof of maiden coyness, and
bespoke a heart so full of love that every emotion sent it mantling to
the face.
Gregory here returned, to say that they were getting up a dance, and
Captain Dobbs and his cousin must certainly join in it.
'But I never danced in my life!' said Ann Harriet, innocently.
'Oh, never mind _that_; it is a very simple dance--the Virginia Reel;
every one can dance that; only do as others do,' replied Gregory.
Ann Harriet, accepting Captain Dobbs's proffered arm, proceeded to the
room where the arrangements for the dance were progressing.
'I understand that Miss Hobbs is the star of this business,' remarked
Mr. Pickett to Gregory, as he crammed himself behind a bookcase, to
allow the lady and her escort to go by.
'Star? ' repeated Gregory. 'Yes; the full moon of the concern.'
'You mean of the firm,' quoth Pickett.
'Yes,' replied Gregory, 'the full moon of the firm, I meant.'
The dancers took their places, and a merry tune soon set them in motion.
Ann Harriet watched the others carefully, and soon understood the
figure. At length her turn came to advance. She performed her part very
well until she came to that step known as _dos a dos_, and here her good
luck forsook her; for, in stepping back, she struck with full force her
companion, a slim young man with shell eyeglasses, and sent him forward
with an impetus which was only checked by his coming in collision with a
plaster-of-Paris pedestal, on which stood a bust of General Zachary
Taylor; his head penetrated the column, and the bust came down on his
back with a thump that nearly knocked the breath out of his body. His
eyeglasses were shattered, his soul rent, and his shirt bosom torn
asunder. The unfortunate youth gathered himself up and retreated to an
anteroom, where he rearranged his disordered clothing; but was not seen
again, having disappeared through a side door and hastened home.
Ann Harriet came out of the collision like a second 'Monitor,' unscathed
and undaunted; indeed, she was not aware that anything unusual had
happened till she heard the crash, and then was surprised to learn that
she was the cause of the catastrophe.
When our heroine heard how serious the collision had been, she felt much
disturbed, until Gregory observed that, although she had been backward
in causing the mishap, she should not be backward in making what
reparation she could.
On this suggestion, Ann Harriet inquired the whereabouts of Mr. Google,
and learning that he was in an anteroom, started in search of him. She
found herself in the supper room, hurrying across which, she pulled open
a door on the other side with such a vigorous effort of elephantine
strength, as to precipitate a waiter, who had just caught hold of the
handle, headlong into the room. The unfortunate servitor, who was
dressed in white cravat and black coat, landed under the supper table,
where he lay motionless. Ann Harriet made her way back to the parlor as
quickly as possible, where she startled the visitors by exclaiming:
'Oh dear, come here, quick! I have killed a minister!'
Miss Helen Bumpus, who was playing a quickstep on the pianoforte,
uttered a sharp shriek, which was echoed from various parts of the room,
and the whole company, headed by Captain Dobbs, followed Ann Harriet to
the scene of the disaster.
When they reached the dining room they found her 'minister' sitting on
the floor, rubbing his head, and using language more appropriate to one
of Captain Kidd's profession than to an expounder of the gospel. When
the damaged waiter saw the immense crowd entering the room, he vanished
into the kitchen amid shouts of laughter from the assembly, who
comprehended at once Miss Hobbs's error. Ann Harriet felt much relieved
to find that the accident was no worse, and explained the mishap to her
friends, ending by inquiring what denomination he belonged to. Gregory
informed her that the individual was not a clergyman, but a lay-man and
a waiter.
Soon after, the guests were requested to repair to the supper room, and
each gentleman chose his partner for the occasion. Unfortunately for Ann
Harriet, Captain Dobbs chanced to be at the farther end of the room, and
before he reached the object of his adoration she had already accepted
the arm of an exquisite youth with patent eyeglass, pink necktie, and
tomato-colored moustache. The disappointment nearly destroyed Dobbs's
appetite. He had intended to be irresistibly attentive to Miss Hobbs; to
furnish her with every little delicacy the table afforded; and _now_,
she must depend upon the languid movements of a 'snob:' it was too bad,
by Jove!
The table was elegantly decorated with flowers, and the neatly prepared
dishes and ministerial waiters presented a scene which to Ann Harriet's
vision was enchanting.
'What shall I have the pleasure of obtaining for you?' asked Mr.
Struttles of Ann Harriet.
'Let me see,' replied Ann. 'It's some time since I eat anything, and I
feel pretty hungry: if you will get me a plateful of pandowdy[8] and
some ginger snaps, I shall feel thankful.'
Mr. Struttles was a very polite man, and would not laugh in a lady's
face for a farm; but his tomato-hued moustache quivered, and he had to
frown fiercely to conceal the laughter which threatened to burst him
asunder.
'What amuses you so much, Strut?' asked a friend, who found him a few
moments later in the entry, giggling all by himself.
'Oh dear! I shall die!' he replied, shaking with mirth; 'that fat girl
asked me to get her something to eat that I never heard of: I believe
she called it _slam dowdy_, or rip snap, or something like that, and, of
course, there is nothing of the kind on the table.'
'Go and tell her it is all eaten up,' suggested the friend; 'article all
sold.'
Struttles had not thought of that; it was a good idea, so off he went
and told Ann Harriet that the object she wished had been so fashionable
that it was all devoured before he reached it.
'Oh, well! I had just as lief have some gingerbread and a pickle-lime,'
was her calm response.
Struttles rushed desperately to the table, filled a plate full of
anything that came handy, brought it to his dame, and informed her that
there was not a pickled lime to be had. Ann Harriet did not care; she
was soon busy devouring the contents of the plate, while Struttles stood
by, chuckling and grinning.
Captain Dobbs, in the mean time, was doing all he could to make hungry
and handsome Miss Helen Bumpus happy, by giving her oyster salad, ice
cream, frozen pudding, and cake, with plenty of champagne to wash it
down; but his heart was with Ann Harriet, and many an anxious glance he
bestowed on her, to see if she was well supplied with the niceties of
the festive board. He thrilled with joy at seeing her behind a plate
piled nearly as high as her chin with a variety of cakes, tarts, fruits,
and jellies.
After a while every one was surfeited, and gradually the supper room was
deserted, leaving none but the waiters, who quickly cleared away what
there was left of the supper.
On entering the parlor, Captain Dobbs caught a view of himself in a
large mirror, and saw to his dismay that he had not escaped the usual
fate of gallants who endeavor to make themselves agreeable to the ladies
in a crowded supper-room; lumps of blanc-mange adhered to his shirt
bosom; particles of calf's-foot jelly coruscated like gems on his
patent-leather gaiters, and quivering oysters hung tenaciously to his
coat sleeves. He looked around for some place of refuge where he could
retire and remove the remnants of the banquet, and espying a side room
apparently deserted, there being no light in it, stepped in, and, taking
off his coat, commenced the task of restoring it to its pristine
splendor. While doing this, he was startled by a sound so singular that
his coat nearly fell from his hand, so alarmed was he. Glancing at the
door, his eyes met the known form of Ann Harriet, when he instantly
hurried on his coat in horror, and, apologizing to his fair friend for
being caught without it, referred to the curious noise he had heard.
'What did it sound like?' asked Ann Harriet.
The Captain tried in vain to find a simile; he had never heard anything
that resembled it; and Ann Harriet's suggestions as to what it might
have been were equally fruitless.
The truth was, that when Miss Hobbs appeared at the threshold of the
door she heaved a deep sigh, and it was this that startled her lover;
but as he had his head in a stooping position, and was busy brushing his
coat, the sound seemed to him to come from the farther end of the room,
which was obscured in darkness. He was not aware that fat ladies' sighs
were proportionate to their size. However, now that his heart's idol was
present, he cared nothing for aught else; so, taking her small hand, he
led her to the window, and they stood gazing with mutual consent at the
starry heavens. Gregory spied them there, and mischievously closed the
door. What conversation ensued is only known to the two who were engaged
in it, but every one noticed that when Ann Harriet reappeared her step
was light if not actually fantastic, and her mild countenance beamed
with a moonlike radiance, so serenely bright as to reveal a heart
buoyant with bliss. Soon after, the company dispersed, and the damsel,
retiring to her dormitory, was soon dreaming sweetly of 'her betrothed,'
and imagined that all the bells in Peonytown were rung on her wedding
day.
Sleep on, Ann Harriet! Thou hast waited long for the happy hour; but
thou wert thyself weighty, and it was fit that thou, too, shouldst deal
deliberately in matters of _'great' weight_.
The next day she informed her uncle of her intention to marry the
accomplished Drummond Dobbs, and received his hearty approval; for
Dobbs's character was good, and without a scar.
The nuptials were to take place without delay, and so Ann Harriet
hastened home to make the requisite arrangements.