in an indiscriminate verbal war. At last hearse manages to go down
towards the Five Points. The procession succeeds in getting out by
turning in the other direction, except the rear portion, which, to my
knowledge, never got out. Once more under way, and making good time.
Man with a gold-headed cane stops the stage, and passes up a five-cent
piece. Driver swears, and advises him to ride in the cars hereafter.
Driver suggests that he is full ten minutes behind time, and is bound to
make it up. Lays on the lash, much to the surprise of the animals.
Driver pulls up in front of the St. Nicholas Hotel, and announces the
spot through the money-hole. Nobody essays to pass up any fare. Driver
repeats the announcement. Nobody moves. Driver inquires, impatiently, if
there ain't 'two fellers inside wot wanted to git out at the St.
Nicholas Hotel.' Still no reply. Again the inquiry. One of the Hoosiers
said he asked him to 'stop at the St. Nicholas tarvern, 'cause why,
'cause he wanted to see it. He'd seen it enough; it was a purty nice
tarvern, he reckoned, and he might drive on.' Driver gave the horses an
extra cut, and we move again. Asthmatic party pulls the strap. After
feeling in all of his pockets for two minutes, informs the driver that
he left his _porte-monnaie_ in his other pantaloons. Driver says the
story won't go down--that the game is too old. Party tries to make his
exit, but the door won't open, the driver holding hard on the strap.
Asthmatic party threatens to horsewhip driver. Driver says, 'any time
when conwenyent he hoped he'll make the trial.' Driver about to start,
when asthmatic party pulls out his jack-knife and cuts the strap.
Asthmatic party triumphs. Driver, frantic with rage, throws an apple at
asthmatic party, and hits asthmatic party on his knowledge-box.
Asthmatic party falls, and upsets an apple-stand. Celtic female, the
proprietor of the apple-stand, hits asthmatic party with a brick. Both
parties close in, and fight amid the ruins of the apple-stand. Driver
starts the horses, but looks around to watch the fight. Horses sheer off
to the starboard, and the hub of the hind wheel breaks down a lamp-post.
Driver observes policeman approaching at a rapid speed. No time to
survey the ruins, so he applies the lash, and we move away from the
scene of the mishap at a speed ominous of swift destruction to
horse-shoes and wagon-tires. Female, with three children, calls out to
stop, and passes up a three-dollar bill. Driver inquires if she hasn't
got any change. Female gives a negative response. Driver gives change in
small pieces, retaining as fare the moderate sum of seventy-five cents
for a woman and three children. Woman attempts to count the change.
Driver sings out to 'Hurry up--behind time--can't wait all day.' Female
bewildered, leaves with her children, and driver whips up the horses,
remarking that he 'guesses she'll learn, after a while, not to pass up
bills for stage-fare.' Soon reach Union Square. Tell the driver I'll get
off. Offer him a sixpence. Driver says, 'he'll not take a cent; that if
there ever was a nout-'n'-outer, I'm one, and he hopes that it won't be
the last time we'll meet; and if he only had time, he wouldn't let me
off without treatin' me.' I thanked him for his good opinion, shook
hands, and jumped off the box.
"Thus, gentlemen," concluded Mr. Dropper, "ends the history of my voyage
on an omnibus."
Mr. Quackenbush arose, and stated that he regarded Mr. Dropper's paper
as a valuable addition to the historical writings of the country. He
therefore moved that a gold medal be prepared by a committee of the
club, of which the Higholdboy should not be an _ex-officio_ member, for
presentation to Mr. Dropper. Mr. Dropper to pay the whole expense of
procuring the same, and to stand a champagne supper for the honor
conferred on him.
The motion was carried with only one dissenting voice--that of Mr.
Dropper, who said he didn't want any such expensive and equivocal
honors.
The presiding officer informed Mr. Dropper that he was fined three cents
for contempt of club.
[Illustration]
Over an hour was now passed in a state of inactivity. Some of the
members slept and some didn't. As a means of inducing excitement of some
kind, a member signalized the institution on the first floor for pork
and beans for the entire crowd. This was promptly answered, and for a
time the club had enough to engage its attention. After the aforesaid
luxuries had been duly disposed of, the members proceeded to take seats,
lie on the floor, prop themselves against the wall, and hang themselves
up on a peg, as best suited their independent fancies. The presiding
officer announced that the rules on this occasion would be enforced
strictly. Accordingly, each individual present began to do exactly what
pleased him, without any regard to the comfort, convenience, or personal
predilections of anybody else. The Higholdboy first secured the left
boot of every member present. After pulling a boot on each leg of the
table, he put one on each of his hands, like a gauntlet, and then laid
the seventh on the table. The object of Mr. Spout, in pursuing this
eccentric course of conduct, soon became apparent, when he laid himself
on the table, using the aforesaid solitary boot as a pillow, it being
manifest that he desired to preclude the possibility of an adjournment
during the nap, and inasmuch as it would be found inconvenient for the
members to leave the premises with but a single pedal covering, and as
it would be impossible for a member to secure the other, without
awakening the most venerable and exceedingly somnolent Higholdboy, it
will be apparent to the credulous reader that Mr. Spout's idea was quite
ingenious.
Under these circumstances, each member determined to make himself as
comfortable as the time, the place, and the conveniences would admit of.
Mr. Boggs was lying flat on his back, trying to drink a hot whisky-punch
without breaking the tumbler, spilling the liquor, or getting the sugar
inside his whiskers. Mr. Overdale was learning "juggling without a
master," and was endeavoring to spin plates on his whalebone cane. In
striving to acquire this elegant accomplishment, he had broken all the
dishes in the premises. As he varied his plate-spinning endeavors with
repeated trials at tossing the cups and balls, for which purpose he used
the tumblers and coffee-cups, and as, whenever he caught one cup, he
dropped two, and stepped on the fragments, the work of demolition went
bravely on.
Mr. Van Dam amused himself by blacking the faces of all the pictures in
the room with charcoal. Dennis employed himself for an hour and a half
in whittling off with a jack-knife one leg of every chair in the
apartment, so as to make it four inches shorter than the rest. Wagstaff
collected all the books he could find, and piled them into a shaky
pyramid, which he was preparing to push over with a broomstick upon the
head of the unconscious Higholdboy.
Quackenbush had not been idle; taking advantage of the drowsiness of his
superior officer, he had sewed the bottoms of that gentleman's
pantaloons together with a waxed end, after which he made a moustache on
himself with burned cork, and then painted the left side of his face in
three-cornered patches like a sleepy harlequin, dyed his shirt-collar
scarlet with red ink, and went to sleep in the corner to await the
result, having first tripped up Mr. Overdale, who, by way of a new
variation in his juggling performances, was now trying to balance the
poker on his nose, while he held a rocking-chair in one hand and a
hat-box full of oyster shells in the other. Dropper had a checker-board
before him, and was superintending a game between his right and left
hand.
But suddenly, those of the Elephants who were in their waking senses,
became sensible of a noise outside. It begun at the foot of the stairs,
like the sound of a regiment of crazy Boston watchmen, all springing
their rattles at once. The noise became louder, and seemed to be coming
up the stairs, and now rivalled in sound a mail-train on a race. Now the
uproar became more distinct, and evidently proceeded from some person or
persons outside, who were provided with some ingenious facilities for
kicking up a row, with which ordinary roisterers are unacquainted. These
persons now began a furious attack upon the "outer walls." Mr. Overdale
paused in his plate-breaking occupation, long enough to pour out a few
emphatic sentences, addressed to the individuals outside, in which he
consigned them to a locality too hot for a powder-mill, and then resumed
his practice.
As the door began to shake, Overdale laid down the poker, smashed what
few large pieces of plates were left over the head of the recumbent
Quackenbush, awoke the Higholdboy by rolling him off the table, aroused
the rest of the party by a few kicks in the ribs, and then, undoing the
fastenings of the door, was proceeding to expostulate with the
disturbers. No sooner, however, had he opened the door, than a rush was
made by the invaders, and Mr. Dropper upset by the besieging party. Mr.
Dropper fell upon the stomach of the half-awakened Quackenbush, they
both pitched into Mr. Boggs, and then all three rolled over the
Higholdboy. This last-named personage, having the bottoms of his
pantaloons sewed together, could not arise until the friendly jack-knife
unfettered his lengthy legs. All parties being restored to the
perpendicular, an immediate inquiry was made into the cause of the
disturbance.
Then it was discovered that the person who had kicked up this diabolical
bobbery was no less a personage than the heretofore discreet and
temperate Johnny Cake, aided and abetted by an individual unknown to the
rest of the company, but whose appearance bespoke him to be one of the
boys, who, although not an "Elephant," presented at first sight
distinguished claims to be honored with that enviable distinction.
Yes, Johnny Cake, the man who would never be persuaded to taste a glass
of liquor of any kind, who had always endeavored to keep his companions
from spirituous imbibition; the virtuous cold-waterite, whom the sight
of a glass of brandy would give a cold chill, a whisky-punch throw into
spasms, or a mug of "lager" give a teetotal convulsion, stood now
before the astounded Elephantine brotherhood drunk, plainly, undeniably,
unequivocally _drunk_.
He had a black eye, and a swelled nose. His coat was on hind side
before, and buttoned between his shoulders, while his pantaloons were
entirely bereft of buttons, and were secured from parting company only
by two pieces of telegraph-wire which, with commendable ingenuity, he
had converted into extemporaneous metallic suspenders. His companion was
in a singular state of derangement as to his personal attire, having no
coat at all, and a red shirt over his nether continuations.
As soon as the first expression of surprise was over, the Higholdboy,
comprehending that something unusual had taken place, ordered the
company to be seated. In obedience to this peremptory order from the
most noble officer of the club, the Elephantines each took a seat, but
as the inglorious young man before-mentioned had made the chairs
exceedingly treacherous and insecure, by cutting off one leg of each,
the immediate consequence of the attempt was another general
sprawlification upon the floor, executed in a masterly manner by the
entire strength of the company. After five minutes of vigorous polyglot
profanity had somewhat relieved the feelings of the fallen
Elephantines, and they had recovered their feet, they contrived to sit
down; the chairs were as treacherous as ever, but being forewarned, the
members were forearmed, and by dint of many exertions, contrived to
maintain their seats with a tolerable show of dignity.
Johnny Cake was too far gone to make any intelligible replies, or give
any account of himself, and it was resolved to postpone his examination
until he should get sober. His companion, however, who seemed to be
something in the theatrical way, gave his own story in his own peculiar
manner, but refused to enlighten the anxious brotherhood about poor
Johnny.
He possessed a facility of quotation equal to Richard Swiveller, Esq.'s,
but he was as reckless about the exactitude of his extracts, and jumbled
up his authorities with as much confusion as Captain Cuttle himself. He
seldom gave a quotation right, but would break off in the middle and
substitute some words of his own, or dovetail an irrelevant piece from
some strange author, or mix up half-a dozen authors with interpolations
of his own, in an inextricable verbal jumble.
The Higholdboy and the stranger held the following conversation:
"What's your name?"
"Peter Knight; am a native to the marrow-bone.--That's Shakspeare."
"Young man, strange young man, young man to me unknown; young man of the
peculiar hat and ruby shirt, I fear to adapt my conversation to your
evident situation; that you're drunk, emphatically drunk, I repeat it,
drunk--drunk was my remark--D--Runk, drunk."
"It's true, 'tis pity; pity 'tis there isn't the devil a doubt of
it.--That's Scott."
"Where did you get your liquor?"
"Where the bee sucks, there sucks Peter Knight all day. Thou base,
inglorious slave, think'st thou I will reveal the noble name of him who
gave me wine? No, sir-ee, Bob.--That's Beaumont and Fletcher."
"Ante up or leave the board; that is to say fire away, let us know, we
won't tell. Although we never drink, we like to know where drink we
might get, in case of cholera, or colic."
"I do remember an apothecary and here-abouts he dwells; no he don't, he
lives over in the Bowery--but in his needy shop a cod-fish hangs, and on
his shelves a beggarly account of empty bottles; noting this penury to
myself, I said, if any man did need a brandy-punch, whose sale is fifty
dollars fine in Gotham, here lives a caitiff wretch who has probably
got plenty of it under the counter. Why should I here conceal my fault?
Wine ho! I cried. The call was answered. I have no wine, said he, but
plenty of whis--. Silence! thou pernicious caitiff, quoth I; thou
invisible spirit of wine, since we can get thee by no other name, why
let us call thee gin and sugar. He brought the juice of cursed juniper
in a phial, and in the porches of my throat did pour Udolpho Wolfe's
distilment. Thus was I by a Dutchman's hand at once dispatched--not
drunk or sober--sent into the dirty streets three-quarters tight, with
all my imperfections on my head. The fellow's name? My very soul rebels.
But whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the cuffs and bruises of
this bloody Dutchman or to take arms against his red-haired highness,
and by informing end him? I go and it is done. Villain, here's at thy
heart! His name, your Honor, is Bobblesnoffkin in the Bowery. That's
Shakspeare mixed."
"Young man, whose shirt has escaped from all control, and now hangs
loose, the posterior section of which has also sustained a serious, and,
I fear, irremediable fracture, I have another question to propound;
answer upon your life. Have you got a home?"
"My home is on the deep, deep sea.--That's Plutarch's Lives."
"How do you get your living?"
"Doubt thou the stars are fire; doubt that the sun doth move; doubt
truth to be a liar, but never doubt that I'll get a living while the
oyster-sloops don't have but one watchman.--That's Billy S. again."
"Do you pay for your oysters?"
"Base is the slave that pays; the speed of thought is in my
limbs.--That's Byron."
"Do you steal them and then run away?"
"I've told thee all, I'll tell no more, though short the story be; let
me go back where I was before and I'll get my living without troubling
the corporation. That's Tom Moore, altered to suit circumstances."
"You ought to dispense with the brandy and gin."
"Oh, I could be happy with either, were 'tother dear charmer bottled up
and the cork put in.--That's Dibdin with a vengeance."
"Young man, I fear you've led our young friend, whom you now see asleep
amongst the broken crockery, from the paths of sobriety. What do you
suppose will become of you if you go on in this way?"
"Alas, poor Yorick!--Peter, I mean. Who knows where he will lay his
bones? Few and short will the prayers be said, and nobody'll feel any
sorrow: but they'll cram him into his clay-cold bed, and bury somebody
else on the top of him to-morrow; the minister will come, put on his
robe and read the service; the choir'll sing a hymn; earth to earth and
dust to gravel, and that'll be the last of Peter Knight."
The Higholdboy consulting with those members of the club who were still
awake, it was resolved forthwith to put Peter Knight down stairs. As he
went he remarked:
"Fare thee well, and if for ever, all the better.--That's Byron, revised
and corrected."
Johnny Cake was manifestly too far gone to think of taking him to a
hotel to sleep, and under these circumstances the club resolved itself
into a committee of the whole, to remain in sleepy session all night, to
take care of their prostrate fellow-member, Mr. Johnny Cake.
JOHNNY CAKE'S FIRST SPREE.
Whatever is, is.
WRIGHT.
[Illustration]
IN the last chapter of this veritable history is related the unexpected
and unusually thorough inebriation of Mr. John I. Cake, from the verdant
prairies of Illinois. The alcoholically-saturated condition of Johnny's
corporosity, on the occasion herein-before-mentioned, surprised the
thirsty brotherhood far more than would a similar state of facts in
which any other one of the fraternity should have been implicated,
because as Johnny had always perched himself upon the aqueous pinnacle
of misanthropic teetotalism, it was not reasonable to suppose that he
should, by one single dive, precipitate himself at once to the lowest
depth of inebriation--for his profession's sake, he should have come
down easier.
As his new-made friends had taken his moral culture under their especial
guardianship, he was duly required, the next evening, to give, for the
instruction and edification of the club, a full account of his night's
experience.
Having first premised that he only complied with this desire in
obedience to that imperative rule of the club, to which he had solemnly,
affixed his name, which, in the most awful language, pledges every
member who takes that terrible obligation to do exactly as he pleases,
unless his own pleasure shall influence him otherwise, or unless, upon
mature consideration, he shall decide that he had rather do something
else, he proceeded to enlighten the anxious Elephantine expectants.
"When I left you yesterday," said he, "I had no more idea that I should
so far overstep the bounds of my customary propriety, and make my next
appearance before you in a state of alcoholic disguise, than I have at
this present moment that the setting sun will see me under arrest for
picking somebody's pocket of a steam saw-mill. Strolling about yesterday
for some time, I became tired of the monotonous hurry of Broadway, and
eventually strayed into that delightful rural locality which you call, I
think, the Bowery.
"On the corner of this avenue of the rustic cognomen and Broome street,
there is a place of refreshment for the weary. I entered its open doors,
and sat down in a little three-sided closet, determined to procure the
wherewithal to refresh the inner individual. Obedient to my upraised
finger, a person came. This person had on a small white apron; this
person also flourished in his dexter-digits a napkin of questionable
purity; this person wore slippers, and had a voice like an asthmatic
bull-frog; this person was a city waiter--a male waiter--a degeneration
of the genus homo, which I sincerely hope will, at no very distant day,
become utterly extinct. He procured for me the viands which my
capricious taste selected from the suggestive printed list of edibles
there to be obtained. While engaged in consigning to a living grave the
bivalves he had brought, I had a fair opportunity to observe some, to
me, remarkable gymnastics then in course of accomplishment by an active
young man who presided at the bar, and held dominion over the bottles.
First pouring into a tumbler some liquid, to me unknown, diluting it
with water, adding ice, sugar, lemon, and other ingredients with which I
am unacquainted, he proceeded to throw the compound about in the most
unheard-of manner, from one tumbler to another, over his head, under his
leg, round his neck, over one arm and under the other, without ever
spilling a drop. First uplifting one hand high in air, he poured the
mixture in a sparkling cascade from the glass in the right hand, to that
in the left; then he threw it in a sparkling shower in the air, till the
lumps of ice rattled on the ceiling; then he dispersed it in a misty
spray about his head and recovered it all in his magic glass, by some
diabolic dexterity, without losing the fraction of a drop; then, in one
grand, final effort, he tossed it round the beer-pump, down one side,
and up the other, and over the chandelier, changing a two-dollar bill
while it was in the air, and giving his customer his drink with one
hand, and with the other his silver change, intermixed with twenty per
cent. of pewter dimes, which the thirsty buyer invariably pocketed
before he could recover from his astonishment.
"I finished my dinner, and was anxious to see the little man perform
again. I approached the little man, and desired him to concoct me a
lemonade. He inquired if I wanted a 'fly' in it. As the flying part was
what I most desired, I answered yes. The little man went through the
motions. I sent the lemonade to its destination, noticing at the time
something remarkably nectarean in the taste. As I supposed the
evolutions which it had accomplished in mid-air had imparted to it an
unusual flavor, and as I wanted to see the performance again, I
immediately subscribed for one more of the same sort. Again the question
about the fly--again an affirmative, with a remark that the bigger the
fly, the better I should be pleased, supposing that thereby he would,
for my satisfaction, make it fly through some new motions. I am
satisfied that this time the fly _was_ larger than on the former
occasion. I was still unsatisfied; another subscription, and another
lemonade, but this time the entomological interrogation was not
propounded--he took the fly for granted, and he was right. About this
time the person who came home with me last night made his appearance. I
shook hands with him at once, for I thought I recognized him. I imagined
that he was a man who, seven years ago, licked me with a rawhide for
stealing his pippins and setting fire to his sugar-bush, and I was
anxious to shake hands for old acquaintance sake. I beg now, however, to
state that I am satisfied this impression was erroneous, for I have this
morning a distinct recollection that the individual of pomological
memory removed to Kansas, where he was first lynched for stealing a
horse, and afterward chosen county treasurer and inspector of election.
However, be that as it may, certain it is, that, at that particular
moment, thinking I had fallen in with an old friend, I invited him to
drink with me. He accepted, and presently he proposed punch, and made a
remark about cobbler. Punch I had heard mentioned as the prince of good
fellows, and I was anxious to make his acquaintance. Cobbler I had only
heard of as a man of lapstones and leather aprons, and I did not
particularly desire to know him. On receiving an introduction to Punch,
I was amazed to find that he was not an individual but a drink--a
luscious combination of fragrant ingredients. Although I was mistaken in
the identity, I was pleased with him, and it may not be superfluous to
remark that the more I saw of him, the more I wanted to see, and the
more I did see. About this time I had _two_ friends; there were _two_
active little men behind the bar, each throwing from double-barrelled
tumblers two streams of lemonade over his head, each with two flies in.
There were two beer-pumps, each with two dozen handles, and the number
of bottles and decanters was beyond computation. The floor rose up and
down in wooden billows, and knocked my hat off. I attempted to
remonstrate with floor, but at this juncture the floor clinched me; we
had a long wrestle, and finally went down--floor on top. By a convulsive
exertion I 'turned' the floor, got it under, and stood on it to keep it
down; had some compunctions about striking a fallen enemy, but passion
got the better of me, and I tried to kick the floor; floor kicked back,
and threw sand-dust in my eyes; got away; wanted to get out doors, but
the room had changed about so, that the door was over my head, and the
bar, with the active little men, was nearly under my feet; was afraid I
should walk over the little men, and break the bottles; stepped very
carefully so as to avoid any such accident, and put my foot in the
stove. Peter rescued me from the devouring element, and got me out of
doors.
"Peter said he would see me home, and asked me where I lived; told him I
was an elephant; made him understand that I could _show_ him the place
where I hung out, even if I couldn't tell him--so we started.
"We must have come through Chatham street, for I can remember seeing
some one with a hammer, selling clothing. I know I wanted to go in and
make some purchases. The ruling idea in my mind, at that moment, was,
that the grey mare wanted a winter overcoat, the oxen a pair of striped
pantaloons apiece, that the sow, and each of her tender offspring, ought
to have a red jacket and a pair of spectacles, and that it was a matter
of necessity and charity to purchase seven dozen hickory shirts to keep
the blue jays away from the apple-trees. I went in, and commenced
bidding. I know I was not particular about prices, and that any
opposition provoked me exceedingly--so much so that I bid twenty-three
dollars for a second-hand pocket-handkerchief, because, when the
auctioneer started it at ten cents, and I offered fifteen, a hook-nosed
Jew bid three cents over me. Auction over at last; man with the hammer
wanted me to pay up--found that I had bought three quarters of his
stock, and hadn't money enough to settle the bill. I know I gave him all
I had, and also my coat and neckerchief to make up the balance. I also
have a distinct recollection of calling him a Hebrew robber, upon which
he knocked me in the eye with his hammer, and followed up this
declaration of hostilities by splitting my nose with a yard-stick. We
got out of doors, and proceeded down town. On the corner of Chambers
street the Third Avenue Railroad squared off, and knocked me down. Peter
held me steady, while I rebuked the offender in proper terms. The Third
Avenue Railroad took off its hat and apologized. I forgave it.
"We went into a cellar; got in by a complicated dive. I sat down at
first on the piano, next on a pile of oyster-shells, and, finally, by
the aid of a huge pair of whiskers, with a little Dutchman behind them,
deposited myself in a chair--on top of Peter. Peter got out after a
prolonged struggle; place very hirsute; big beards on everybody; ten
parts of hair to one part Dutchman. My vision may have been slightly
deranged, but I am certain that one diminutive German had two pairs of
whiskers--a moustache just over his eyes, and a four-foot yellow beard
which sprung from his teeth. We drank lager bier.