[Footnote A: Knight of the Order of Dannebrog.]
I found Dannevig, as I had expected, at the so-called Armory (the city
prison), in pleasant converse with half-a-dozen policemen, to whom he
was describing, with inimitable grace and good-humor, his adventures
of the preceding night. He was too absorbed in his narrative to notice
my arrival, and I did not choose to interrupt him.
"You can imagine, gentlemen," he was saying, accompanying his words
with the liveliest gesticulations, "how the rude contact of a
plebeian fist with my tender skin must have impressed me. Really
gentlemen, I was so surprised that I literally lost my balance. I was,
as you are no doubt aware, merely asserting my rights as a free
citizen to protest against the presumptions of the unprincipled
oligarchy which is at present ruling this fair city. My case is
exactly parallel to that of Caius Gracchus, who, I admit, reaped a
similar reward."
"But you were drunk," replied a rude voice from his audience. "Dead
drunk."
"Drunk," ejaculated Dannevig, with a gesture of dignified deprecation.
"Now, I submit it to you as gentlemen of taste and experience: how
would you define that state of mind and body vulgarly styled 'drunk?'
I was merely pleasantly animated, as far as such a condition can be
induced by those vulgar liquids which you are in the habit of imbibing
in this benighted country. Now, if I had had the honor of your
acquaintance in the days of my prosperity, it would have given me
great pleasure to raise your standard of taste regarding wines and
alcoholic liquors. The mixed drinks, which are held in such high
esteem in this community, are, in my opinion, utterly demoralizing."
Thinking it was high time to interrupt this discourse, I stepped up to
the orator, and laid my hand on his shoulder.
"Dannevig," I said, "I have no time to waste Let me settle this
business for you at once."
"In a moment I shall be at your service," he answered, gracefully
waving his hand; and for some five minutes more he continued his
harangue on the corrupting effects of mixed drinks.
After a visit to the court-room, a brief examination, and the payment
of a fine, we took our departure. Feeling in an exceptionally amiable
mood, Dannevig offered me his arm, and as we again passed the group of
policemen at the door he politely raised his dilapidated hat to them,
and bade them a pleasant good-morning. The cross of Dannebrog, with
its red ribbon, was dangling from the button-hole of his coat, the
front of which was literally glazed with the stains of dried punch.
"My type of countenance, as you will observe," he remarked, as we
hailed a passing omnibus, "presents some striking deviations from the
classic ideal; but it is a consoling reflection that it will probably
soon resume its normal form."
Of course, all the morning as well as the evening papers, recounted,
with flaming headings, Dannevig's oration, and his ignominious
expulsion from the mass-meeting, and the most unsparing ridicule was
showered both upon him and the journal which, for the time, he
represented. One more experience of a similar nature terminated his
career as a journalist; I dared no longer espouse his cause and he
was dismissed in disgrace. For some weeks he vanished from my horizon,
and I began to hope that he had again set his face toward the Old
World, where talents of the order he possessed are at higher premium
in the social market. But in this hope I was to be grievously
disappointed.