MR. JINKS AT HOME.
The young man sat down at his desk, and began to write. But this
occupation did not seem to amuse him, and, in a few moments, he threw
away the pen he was writing with, and demanded another from Mr.
Roundjacket.
That gentleman complied, and made him a new one.
Verty wrote for five minutes with the new one; and then split it
deplorably. Mr. Roundjacket heard the noise, and protested against
such carelessness.
"Oh," sighed Verty, "this writing is a terrible thing to-day; I want a
holiday."
"There's no holiday in law, sir."
"Never?"
"No, never."
"It's a very slavish thing, then," Verty said.
"You are not far wrong there, young man," replied his companion; "but
it also has its delights."
"I have never seen any."
"You are a savage."
"I believe I am."
"Your character is like your costume--barbarous."
"Yes--Indian," said Verty; "but I just thought, Mr. Roundjacket, of my
new suit. To-day was to be the time for getting it."
"Very true," said the clerk, laying down his pen, "and as everything
is best done in order, we will go at once."
Roundjacket opened Mr. Rushton's door, and informed him where he was
going, and for what purpose--a piece of information which was received
with a growl, and various muttered ejaculations.
Verty had already put on his fur hat.
"The fact is," said Roundjacket, as they issued forth into the street
of the town, followed by Longears, "the old fellow, yonder, is getting
dreadfully bearish."
"Is he, sir?"
"Yes; and every year it increases."
"I like him, though."
"You are right, young man--a noble-hearted man is Rushton; but
unfortunate, sir,--unfortunate."
And Mr. Roundjacket shook his head.
"How?"
"That's his secret--not mine," was the reserved reply.
"Well, I won't ask it, then," Verty said; "I never care to know
anything--there's the tailor's, aint it?"
"Yes, that is the shop of the knight of the shears," replied the
clerk, with elegant paraphrase; "come, let us get on."
They soon reached the tailor's, which was not far from the office, on
the same street; and Mr. O'Brallaghan came forward, scissors in hand,
and smiling, like a great ogre, who was going to snip off people's
heads, and eat them for his breakfast--only to satisfy his hunger, not
from any malevolent feeling toward them. Mr. O'Brallaghan, as his name
intimated, was from the Emerald Isle--was six feet high--had a carotty
head, an enormous grinning mouth, and talked with the national accent.
Indeed, so marked was this accent, that, after mature consideration,
we have determined not to report any of this gentleman's
remarks--naturally distrustful as we are of our ability to represent
the tone in which they were uttered, with any degree of accuracy. We
shall not see him frequently, however, and may omit his observations
without much impropriety.
Mr. O'Brallaghan surveyed Verty's lythe and well-knit figure, clad in
its rude forest costume, with patronizing favor. But when Roundjacket
informed him, with hauteur, that "his friend, Mr. Verty," would give
him an order for three suits:--one plain, one handsome, one very
rich--the great O'Brallaghan became supple and polite; and evidently
regarded Mr. Verty as some young lord, in disguise.
He requested the young man to walk into the inner room, where his
artist would take his measure; and this Verty did at once.
Imagine his surprise at finding himself in the presence of--Mr. Jinks!
Mr. Jinks, no longer clad in elegant and martial costume, redolent
equally of the ball-room and the battle-field--no longer moving
majestically onward with wide-stretched legs, against which his
warlike sword made dreadful music--no longer decorated with rosettes,
and ruffles, and embroidery; but seated on the counter, in an old
dressing-gown, with slipper'd feet and lacklustre eyes, driving his
rapid needle through the cloth with savage and intrepid spirit.
Verty did not recognize him immediately; and Mr. Jinks did not observe
the new comers either.
An exclamation from the young man, however, attracted his attention,
and he started up.
"Mr. O'Brallaghan!" cried the knight of the needle, if we may so far
plagiarize upon Roundjacket's paraphrase--"Mr. O'Brallaghan! this is
contrary to our contract, sir. It was understood, sir, that I should
be private, sir,--and I am invaded here by a route of people, sir, in
violation of that understanding, sir!"
The emphasis with which Mr. Jinks uttered the various "sirs," in this
address, was terrible. O'Brallaghan was evidently daunted by them.
"You know I am a great artist in the cutting line, sir," said Mr.
Jinks, with dignity; "and that nobody can do your fine work but me,
sir. You know I have the right to mature my conceptions in private,
sir,--and that circumstances of another description render this
privacy desirable, sir! And yet, sir, you intrude upon me, sir,--you
intrude! How do you do, young man?--I recognize you," added Mr. Jinks,
slightly calmed by his victory over O'Brallaghan, who only muttered
his sentiments in original Gaelic, and bore the storm without further
reply.
"I will, for once, break my rule," said Mr. Jinks, magnanimously, "and
do for this gentleman, who is my friend, what I will do for no other.
Henceforth, sir, recollect that I have rights;" and Mr. Jinks frowned;
then he added to Verty, "Young man, have the goodness to stand upon
that bench."
O'Brallaghan and Roundjacket retreated to the outer room, where they
were, soon after, joined by Verty, who was laughing.
"Well," muttered the young man, "I will not tell anybody that
Mr. Jinks sews, if he don't want it to be known--especially Miss
Sallianna. I reckon he is right--women don't like to see men do
anything better than them, as Mr. Jinks says."
And Verty began to admire a plum-colored coat which was lying on the
counter.
"I like this," he said.
O'Brallaghan grew eloquent on the plum-colored coat--asserting that it
was a portion of a suit made for one of his most elegant customers,
but not sent for. He could, however, dispose of it to Mr. Verty, if he
wished to have it--there was time to make another for the aforesaid
elegant customer.
Verty tried the coat on, and O'Brallaghan declared, enthusiastically,
that it fitted him "bewchously."
Mr. Roundjacket informed Verty that it would be better to get the
suit, if it fitted, inasmuch as O'Brallaghan would probably take
double the time he promised to make his proper suit in--an observation
which O'Brallaghan repelled with indignation; and so the consequence
was, that a quarter of an hour afterwards Roundjacket and Verty issued
forth--the appearance of the latter having undergone a remarkable
change.
Certainly no one would have recognized Verty at the first glance. He
was clad in a complete cavalier's suit--embroidered coat-ruffles and
long flapped waistcoat--with knee-breeches, stockings of the same
material, and glossy shoes with high red heels, and fluttering
rosettes; a cocked hat surmounted his curling hair, and altogether
Verty resembled a courtier, and walked like a boy on stilts.
Roundjacket laughed in his sleeve at his companion's contortions,
and on their way back stopped at the barber and surgeon's. This
professional gentleman clipped Verty's profuse curls, gathered them
together carefully behind, and tied them with a handsome bow of
scarlet ribbon. Then he powdered the boy's fine glossy hair, and held
a mirror before him.
"Oh! I'm a great deal better looking now," said Verty; "the fact is,
Mr. Roundjacket, my hair was too long."
To this Mr. Roundjacket assented, and they returned, laughing, to the
office.
Verty looked over his shoulder, and admired himself with all the
innocence of a child or a savage. One thing only was disagreeable to
him--the high heels which Mr. O'Brallaghan had supplied him with.
Accustomed to his moccasins, the heels were not to be endured; and
Verty kicked both of them off against the stone steps with great
composure. Having accomplished this feat, he re-entered.
"I'm easier now," he said.
"About what?"
"The heels."
Mr. Roundjacket looked down.
"I could'nt walk on 'em, and knocked 'em off," Verty said.
Mr. Roundjacket uttered a suppressed chuckle; then stopping suddenly,
observed with dignity:--
"Young man, that was very wrong in you. Mr. Rushton has made you a
present of that costume, and you should not injure it; he will be
displeased, sir."
"I will be nothing of the sort," said a growling voice; and turning
round, the clerk found himself opposite to Mr. Rushton, who was
looking at Verty with a grim smile.
"Kick away just as you please, my young savage," said that gentleman,
"and don't mind this stuff from Roundjacket, who don't know civilized
from Indian character. Do just as you choose."
"May I?" said Verty.
"Am I to repeat everything?"
"Well, sir, I choose to have a holiday this morning."
"Hum!"
"You said I might do as I wanted to, and I want to go and take a
ride."
"Well, go then--much of a lawyer you'll ever make."
Verty laughed, and turning towards Longears, called him. But Longears
hesitated--looking with the most profound astonishment at his master.
"He don't know me!" said the young man, laughing; "I don't think he'll
hunt if I wear these, sir."
But Mr. Rushton had retired, and Verty only heard a door slam.
He rose.
"I'm going to see Redbud, Mr. Roundjacket," he said, "and I think
she'll like my dress--good-bye."
Roundjacket only replied by flourishing his ruler.
Verty put on his cocked hat, admired himself for an instant in the
mirror over the fire-place, and went out humming his eternal Indian
song. Five minutes afterwards he was on his way to see Redbud,
followed dubiously by Longears, who evidently had not made up his mind
on the subject of his master's identity.
In order to explain the reception which Verty met with, it will be
necessary to precede him.