PLEASURE AS BUSINESS.
Captain Tonkins cracked his whip with professional sonority over the
heads of his lively horses, and they started off at a slapping pace,
which brought them to the house of the three friends before the bells
had fairly begun to jingle in unison. The door was instantly opened, and
Overtop and Maltboy presented themselves, dressed in the most elaborate
and captivating style. Marcus Wilkeson appeared just behind them, in his
dressing gown and slippers, calmly smoking his well-browned Meerschaum.
After the salutations of the day, both Overtop and Maltboy addressed a
last appeal to Marcus to give up his ridiculous prejudices, and join the
party; but he obstinately refused, saying that he should make only one
call, and that was upon the old gentleman over the way.
The arrangements for the day had already been made. The party were to
call on a few dozen of Quigg's customers (selected from a carefully
prepared list of one hundred) within range of a mile or two; also on a
few friends of Overtop and Maltboy, who could not well be slighted, and
then come back to the block.
Quigg looked upon the day as one of business, and not of pleasure, and
had methodized a system of callmaking, which was submitted to his
companions, and highly approved by them. The order of exercises was as
follows: First, a jerk at the doorbell; second, precipitate entrance,
hat in hand; third, "Happy New Year," remark on fine weather, and
introduction of friends; fourth, a second remark on fine weather, or any
other one remark which might occur to friends on inspiration of moment;
fifth, acceptance of one sip of wine, and one bite of cake, if any
offered, with compliments on excellence of both; sixth, reference to
list in hand, observation on the necessity of retiring, and regret for
the same; seventh, precipitate retreat.
The system did not work smoothly at first, in consequence of Overtop's
and Maltboy's strained, excessive efforts to make themselves agreeable.
It happened that, at the first two or three houses visited, Maltboy
discovered charming young ladies, and could not resist the temptation to
linger beyond the prescribed minutes, and talk trifles to them. It also
fell out, that Overtop found a number of those sensible women for whom
his heart ever longed, and whose starving souls, as he called them, were
not to be satisfied with the dry crust of ordinary compliment. To them,
therefore, he addressed observations on the inner or spiritual
significance of the New Year's call; on the reminiscences of childhood
suggested by sleigh bells; on the typical meaning of snow as the shroud
of death, and, at the same time, the warming garment of coming life; on
wine or lemonade (as the case might be), as an emblem of hospitality;
and on many other little things as expressive of the loftiest truths.
It was only after earnest remonstrances from Quigg, that the discursive
Overtop brought himself down to the rules of the day. In deference to
Quigg, Mr. Maltboy also steeled his too susceptible heart against the
attractions which he was perpetually encountering, and kept strictly to
the weather. He, as well as Overtop, was surprised to find that the
single stereotyped observation, "It's a fine day," was, after all, more
acceptable than a longer and more strikingly original remark for it
imposed no tax upon the conversational resources of the ladies, and left
them unfatigued to succeeding scores of visitors.
About this time, it was observed of Captain Tonkins that he began to
show signs of fatigue, rocking heavily in his seat with every
oscillation of the sleigh, and talking thick like a jaded man. These
phenomena seeming to require some explanation, the Captain stated that
he had been up late the past three nights, and could keep himself awake
only by taking occasional draughts of Quigg's brandy. The Captain then
proceeded to indulge in random recollections of his political career,
and withering denunciations of one Larry Mulcahy, his successful rival
for the office of School Inspector, whom the Captain did not hesitate to
brand as a jailbird.
When the party returned to the block where the Overtop theory was to be
tested, Mr. Quigg's services were found invaluable. He had not only been
the principal grocer in the vicinity for five years, but he had served
on Ward Committees for the relief of the poor at other people's expense,
and had participated largely in those admirable institutions for the
promotion of matrimony known as Sociables. Therefore, Quigg knew about
everybody on the block worth knowing. There were a few persons in that
old house near the corner, who sent in for herrings, cheap butter, and
pounds of flour, and whom, of course, he did not know. There was a queer
old Dutchman in that square, old-fashioned house in the middle of the
block, whom neither he nor anybody else knew.
They went through half of the south side of the block, and found only
plain and commonplace people. Overtop and Maltboy began to be weary. The
former was gradually discovering that his theory was a bore. The latter
wondered whether Quigg knew the tall girl, concerning the identity of
the front part of whose residence Maltboy was at fault, although he knew
every brick of the rear.
"In this 'ere house," said Quigg, "I shall be treated rudely, because
they owe me fifty dollars for groceries. It's a curious fact, but I have
noticed that debtors always act kind o' cold to creditors, as if it was
the creditors that owed the money."
Mr. Quigg spoke with an important air, as if he had made an original
discovery in human nature.