IN WHAT WAY MR. JEREMIAH SUPPLIES THE WANT OF HIS COAT.
The play-hour was arrived; and yet no coat was forthcoming from the tailor:
on the contrary, the tailor himself was gone to the play. The landlord of
the Double-barrelled Gun, who would readily have lent one, was off upon a
rural excursion, and not expected at home before the next morning; and the
waiter, whose assistance would not have been disdained in such a pressing
emergency, was of so spare and meagre a habit, that, in spite of furious
exertions on the part of Mr. Schnackenberger, John's coat would not let
itself be entered upon by this new tenant. In this exigency, John bethought
him of an old clothesman in the neighbourhood. There he made inquiries. But
he, alas! was out on his summer rounds with his whole magazine of clothes;
no one article being left with his wife, except a great box-coat, such as is
technically called a 'dreadnought,' for which it was presumed that no demand
could possibly arise at this season of the year.
On this report being made, to the great astonishment of the waiter, Mr.
Jeremiah said, 'Well, then, let us have the dreadnought. If the Fates
ordain that I should go to the play in the dog-days apparelled in a
dreadnought, let not me vainly think of resisting their decrees.'
'But,' said the waiter, shrugging his shoulders, 'the people----'
'The what?' said Mr. Schnackenberger: 'the _people_--was it you said; the
_people_? Pray how many people do you reckon to a man? No, Sir, do as I bid
you; just bring me the dreadnought and a round hat.'
The waiter obeyed: and, although the dreadnought was by one good ell too
short, yet Mr. Jeremiah exulted in his strange apparel, because he flattered
himself that in such a disguise he could preserve a strict incognito; with a
view to which he also left Juno behind, recommending her to the vigilant
attentions of the waiter.