THE GRIDIRON.
BY SAMUEL LOVER.
A certain old gentleman in the west of Ireland, whose love of theridiculous quite equalled his taste for claret and fox-hunting, waswont, upon festive occasions, when opportunity offered, to amuse hisfriends by _drawing out_ one of his servants, exceedingly fond of whathe termed his "thravels," and in whom, a good deal of whim, some queerstories, and perhaps, more than all, long and faithful services, hadestablished a right of loquacity. He was one of those few trusty andprivileged domestics, who, if his master unheedingly uttered a rashthing in a fit of passion, would venture to set him right. If the squiresaid, "I'll turn that rascal off," my friend Pat would say, "Troth youwon't, sir"; and Pat was always right, for if any altercation arose uponthe "subject-matter in hand," he was sure to throw in some good reason,either from former services,--general good conduct,--or the delinquent's"wife and children," that always turned the scale.
But I am digressing: on such merry meetings as I have alluded to, themaster, after making certain "approaches," as a military man would say,as the preparatory steps in laying siege to some _extravaganza_ of hisservant, might, perchance, assail Pat thus: "By the by, Sir John(addressing a distinguished guest), Pat has a very curious story, whichsomething you told me to-day reminds me of. You remember, Pat (turningto the man, evidently pleased at the notice thus paid to himself),--youremember that queer adventure you had in France?"
"Troth I do, sir," grins forth Pat.
"What!" exclaims Sir John, in feigned surprise, "was Pat ever inFrance?"
"Indeed he was," cries mine host; and Pat adds, "Ay, and farther, plazeyour honor."
"I assure you, Sir John," continues my host, "Pat told me a story oncethat surprised me very much, respecting the ignorance of the French."
"Indeed!" rejoined the baronet; "really, I always supposed the French tobe a most accomplished people."
"Troth, then, they're not, sir," interrupts Pat.
"O, by no means," adds mine host, shaking his head emphatically.
"I believe, Pat, 'twas when you were crossing the Atlantic?" says themaster, turning to Pat with a seductive air, and leading into the "fulland true account"--(for Pat had thought fit to visit _North Amerikay_,for "a raison he had," in the autumn of the year ninety-eight).
"Yes, sir," says Pat, "the broad Atlantic,"--a favorite phrase of his,which he gave with a brogue as broad, almost, as the Atlantic itself.
"It was the time I was lost in crassin' the broad Atlantic, a comin'home," began Pat, decoyed into the recital; "whin the winds began toblow, and the sae to rowl, that you'd think the _Colleen Dhas_ (that washer name), would not have a mast left but what would rowl out of her.
"Well, sure enough, the masts went by the board, at last, and the pumpswere choked (divil choke them for that same), and av coorse the watergained an us; and troth, to be filled with water is neither good for manor baste; and she was sinkin' fast, settlin' down, as the sailors callit; and faith I never was good at settlin' down in my life, and I likedit then less nor ever; accordingly we prepared for the worst and put outthe boat and got a sack o' bishkits and a cask o' pork, and a kag o'wather, and a thrifle o' rum aboord, and any other little matthers wecould think iv in the mortial hurry we wor in,--and faith there was notime to be lost, for, my darlint, the _Colleen Dhas_ went down like alump o' lead, afore we wor many sthrokes o' the oar away from her.
"Well, we dhrifted away all that night, and next mornin' we put up ablanket an the end av a pole as well as we could, and then we sailediligant; for we darn't show a stitch o' canvas the night before, bekaseit was blowin' like bloody murther, savin' your presence, and sure it'sthe wondher of the world we worn't swally'd alive by the ragin' sae.
"Well, away we wint, for more nor a week, and nothin' before our twogood-lookin' eyes but the canophy iv heaven, and the wide ocean--thebroad Atlantic--not a thing was to be seen but the sae and the sky; andthough the sae and the sky is mighty purty things in themselves, throththey're no great things when you've nothin' else to look at for a weektogether,--and the barest rock in the world, so it was land, would bemore welkim. And then, soon enough, throth, our provisions began to runlow, the bishkits, and the wather, and the rum--throth _that_ was gonefirst of all--God help uz--and oh! it was thin that starvation began tostare us in the face,--'O, murther, murther, Captain darlint,' says I,'I wish we could land anywhere,' says I.
"'More power to your elbow, Paddy, my boy,' says he, 'for sitch a goodwish, and throth it's myself wishes the same.'
"'Och,' says I, 'that it may plaze you, sweet queen iv heaven, supposingit was only a _dissolute_ island,' says I, 'inhabited wid Turks, surethey wouldn't be such bad Christians as to refuse us a bit and a sup.'
"'Whisht, whisht, Paddy,' says the captain, 'don't be talking bad of anyone,' says he; 'you don't know how soon you may want a good word put infor yourself, if you should be called to quarthers in th' other worldall of a suddint,' says he.
"'Thrue for you, Captain darlint,' says I--I called him darlint, andmade free with him, you see, bekase disthress makes us allequal,--'thrue for you, Captain jewel,'--God betune uz and harm, I oweno man any spite,--and throth that was only thruth. Well, the lastbishkit was sarved out, and by gor the _wather itself_ was all gone atlast, and we passed the night mighty cowld; well, at the brake o' daythe sun riz most beautifully out o' the waves, that was as bright assilver and as clear as chrystal. But it was only the more cruel upon us,for we wor beginnin' to feel _terrible_ hungry; when all at wanst Ithought I spied the land,--by gor, I thought I felt my heart up in mythroat in a minit, and 'Thunder an' turf, Captain,' says I, 'look toleeward,' says I.
"'What for?' says he.
"'I think I see the land,' says I. So he ups with his bring-'em-near(that's what the sailors call a spy-glass, sir), and looks out, and,sure enough, it was.
"'Hurra!' says he, 'we're all right now; pull away, my boys,' says he.
"'Take care you're not mistaken,' says I; 'maybe it's only a fog-bank,Captain darlint,' says I.
"'O no,' says he, 'it's the land in airnest.'
"'O, then, whereabouts in the wide world are we, Captain?' says I;'maybe it id be in _Roosia_, or _Proosia_, or the Garmant Oceant,' saysI.
"'Tut, you fool,' says he, for he had that consaited way widhim--thinkin' himself cleverer nor any one else--'tut, you fool,' sayshe, 'that's _France_,' says he.
"'Tare an ouns,' says I, 'do you tell me so? and how do you know it'sFrance it is, Captain dear,' says I.
"'Bekase this is the Bay o' Bishky we're in now,' says he.
"'Throth, I was thinkin' so myself,' says I, 'by the rowl it has; for Ioften heerd av it in regard of that same; and throth the likes av it Inever seen before nor since, and, with the help of God, never will.'
"Well, with that, my heart began to grow light; and when I seen my lifewas safe, I began to grow twice hungrier nor ever--so, says I, 'Captainjewel, I wish we had a gridiron.'
"'Why, then,' says he, 'thunder and turf,' says he, 'what puts agridiron into your head?'
"'Bekase I'm starvin' with the hunger,' says I.
"'And sure, bad luck to you,' says he, 'you couldn't eat a gridiron,'says he, 'barrin' you were a _pelican o' the wildherness_,' says he.
"'Ate a gridiron,' says I, 'och, in throth, I'm not such a _gommoch_ allout as that, anyhow. But sure, if we had a gridiron, we could dress abeefstake,' says I.
"'Arrah! but where's the beefstake?' says he.
"'Sure, couldn't we cut a slice aff the pork,' says I.
"'Be gor, I never thought o' that,' says the captain. 'You're a cleverfellow, Paddy,' says he, laughin'.
"'O, there's many a thrue word said in joke,' says I.
"'Thrue for you, Paddy,' says he.
"'Well, then,' says I, 'if you put me ashore there beyant' (for we werenearin' the land all the time), 'and sure I can ax them for to lind methe loan of a gridiron,' says I.
"'O, by gor, the butther's comin' out o' the stirabout in airnest now,'says he, 'you
gommoch,' says he, 'sure I told you before that'sFrance,--and sure they're all furriners there,' says the captain.
"'Well,' says I, 'and how do you know but I'm as good a furriner myselfas any o' thim?'
"'What do you mane?' says he.
"'I mane,' says I, 'what I towld you, that I'm as good a furriner myselfas any o' thim.'
"'Make me sinsible,' says he.
"'By dad, maybe that's more nor me, or greater nor me, could do,' saysI,--and we all began to laugh at him, for I thought I would pay him offfor his bit o' consait about the Garmant Oceant.
"'Lave aff your humbuggin',' says he, 'I bid you, and tell me what it isyou mane, at all at all.'
"'_Parly voo frongsay_,' says I.
"'O, your humble sarvant,' says he; 'why, by gor, you're a scholar,Paddy.'
"'Throth, you may say that,' says I.
"'Why, you're a clever fellow, Paddy,' says the captain, jeerin' like.
"'You're not the first that said that,' says I, 'whether you joke orno.'
"'O, but I'm in airnest,' says the captain; 'and do you tell me, Paddy,'says he, 'that you spake Frinch?'
"'_Parly voo frongsay_,' says I.
"'By gor, that bangs Banagher, and all the world knows Banagher bangsthe divil,--I never met the likes o' you, Paddy,' says he,--'pull away,boys, and put Paddy ashore, and maybe we won't get a good bellyfulbefore long.'
"So, with that, it wos no sooner said nor done,--they pulled away, andgot close into shore in less than no time, and run the boat up in alittle creek, and a beautiful creek it was, with a lovely whitesthrand,--an illegant place for ladies to bathe in the summer; and out Igot,--and it's stiff enough in the limbs I was, afther bein' cramped upin the boat, and perished with the cowld and hunger, but I conthrived toscramble on, one way or t' other, tow'rds a little bit iv a wood thatwas close to the shore, and the smoke curlin' out iv it, quite timptin'like.
"'By the powdhers o' war, I'm all right,' says I, 'there's a housethere,'--and sure enough there was, and a parcel of men, women, andchildher, ating their dinner round a table, quite convanient. And so Iwint up to the door, and I thought I'd be very civil to them, as I heerdthe French was always mighty p'lite intirely,--and I thought I'd showthem I knew what good manners was.
"So I took aff my hat, and, making a low bow, says I, 'God save allhere,' says I.
"Well, to be sure, they all stapt eating at wanst, and began to stare atme, and faith they almost looked me out of countenance,--and I thoughtto myself, it was not good manners at all, more betoken from furrinerswhich they call so mighty p'lite; but I never minded that, in regard o'wantin' the gridiron; and so says I, 'I beg your pardon,' says I, 'forthe liberty I take, but it's only bein' in disthress in regard ofeating,' says I, 'that I made bowld to throuble yez, and if you couldlind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'I'd be entirely obleeged toye.'
"By gor, they all stared at me twice worse nor before,--and with that,says I (knowing what was in their minds), 'Indeed it's thrue for you,'says I, 'I'm tatthered to pieces, and God knows I look quareenough,--but it's by raison of the storm,' says I, 'which dhruv usashore here below, and we're all starvin',' says I.
"So then they began to look at each other again; and myself, seeing atonce dirty thoughts was in their heads, and that they tuk me for a poorbeggar coming to crave charity,--with that, says I, 'O, not at all,'says I, 'by no manes,--we have plenty of mate ourselves there below, andwe'll dhress it,' says I, 'if you would be plased to lind us the loan ofa gridiron,' says I, makin' a low bow.
"Well, sir, with that, throth, they stared at me twice worse nor ever,and faith I began to think that maybe the captain was wrong, and that itwas not France at all at all; and so says I, 'I beg pardon, sir,' saysI, to a fine ould man, with a head of hair as white as silver,--'maybeI'm under a mistake,' says I, 'but I thought I was in France, sir:aren't you furriners?' says I,--'_Parly voo frongsay_?"
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'if youplase?'
"O, it was thin that they stared at me as if I had seven heads; and,faith, myself began to feel flushed like and onaisy,--and so, says I,makin' a bow and scrape agin, 'I know it's a liberty I take, sir,' saysI, 'but it's only in the regard of bein' cast away; and if you plase,sir,' says I, '_parly voo frongsay_?'
"'We, munseer,' says he, mighty sharp.
"'Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron!' says I, 'and you'llobleege me.'
"Well, sir, the ould chap began to munseer me; but the devil a bit of agridiron he'd gi' me; and so I began to think they wor all neygars, forall their fine manners; and throth my blood begun to rise, and says I,'By my sowl, if it was you was in distriss,' says I, 'and if it was toould Ireland you kem, it's not only the gridiron they'd give you, if youaxed it, but something to put an it, too, and the drop o' dhrink intothe bargain, and _cead mile failte_.'
"Well, the word _cead mile failte_ seemed to sthreck his heart, and theould chap cocked his ear, and so I thought I'd give him another offer,and make him sensible at last: and so says I, wanst more, quite slow,that he might understand,--'_Parly--voo--frongsay_, munseer.'
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'and bad scram to you.'
"Well, bad win to the bit of it he'd gi' me, and the ould chap beginsbowin' and scrapin', and said something or other about a long tongs.[D]
[D] Some mystification of Paddy's touching the French _n'entends_.
"'Phoo!--the divil swape yourself and your tongs,' says I, 'I don't wanta tongs at all at all; but can't you listen to raison,' says I,--'_Parlyvoo frongsay_?'
"'We, munseer.'
"'Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'and howld your prate.'
"Well, what would you think, but he shook his old noddle as much as tosay he wouldn't; and so, says I, 'Bad cess to the likes o' that I everseen,--throth if you wor in my counthry it's not that away they'd useyou. The curse o' the crows an you, you owld sinner,' says I, 'the divila longer I'll darken your door.'
"So he seen I was vexed, and I thought, as I was turnin' away, I seenhim begin to relint, and that his conscience throubled him; and says I,turnin' back, 'Well, I'll give one chance more,--you ould thief,--areyou a Chrishthan at all? are you a furriner!' says I, 'that all theworld calls so p'lite? Bad luck to you, do you understand your ownlanguage?--_Parly voo frongsay_?' says I.
"'We, munseer,' says he.
"'Then, thunder an' turf,' says I, 'will you lind me the loan of agridiron?'
"Well, sir, the devil resave the bit of it he'd gi' me,--and so, withthat, the 'curse o' the hungry an you, you ould negarly villain,' saysI; 'the back o' my hand and the sowl o' my foot to you, that you maywant a gridiron yourself yit,' says I; and with that I left them there,sir, and kem away,--and, in throth, it's often sense that I thought thatit was remarkable."
THE BOX TUNNEL.
BY CHARLES READE.
The 10.15 train glided from Paddington, May 7, 1847. In the leftcompartment of a certain first-class carriage were four passengers; ofthese, two were worth description. The lady had a smooth, white,delicate brow, strongly marked eyebrows, long lashes, eyes that seemedto change color, and a good-sized delicious mouth, with teeth as whiteas milk. A man could not see her nose for her eyes and mouth; her ownsex could and would have told us some nonsense about it. She wore anunpretending grayish dress buttoned to the throat with lozenge-shapedbuttons, and a Scottish shawl that agreeably evaded color. She was likea duck, so tight her plain feathers fitted her, and there she sat,smooth, snug, and delicious, with a book in her hand, and a _soupcon_ ofher wrist just visible as she held it. Her opposite neighbor was what Icall a good style of man,--the more to his credit, since he belonged toa corporation that frequently turns out the worst imaginable style ofyoung men. He was a cavalry officer, aged twenty-five. He had amustache, but not a very repulsive one; not one of those subnasalpigtails on which soup is suspended like dew on a shrub; it was short,thick, and
black as a coal. His teeth had not yet been turned by tobaccosmoke to the color of juice, his clothes did not stick to nor hang tohim; he had an engaging smile, and, what I liked the dog for, hisvanity, which was inordinate, was in its proper place, his heart, not inhis face, jostling mine and other people's who have none,--in a word, hewas what one oftener hears of than meets,--a young gentleman. He wasconversing in an animated whisper with a companion, a fellow-officer;they were talking about what it is far better not to--women. Our friendclearly did not wish to be overheard; for he cast ever and anon afurtive glance at his fair _vis-a-vis_ and lowered his voice. She seemedcompletely absorbed in her book, and that reassured him. At last the twosoldiers came down to a whisper (the truth must be told), the one whogot down at Slough, and was lost to posterity, bet ten pounds to three,that he who was going down with us to Bath and immortality would notkiss either of the ladies opposite upon the road. "Done, done!" Now I amsorry a man I have hitherto praised should have lent himself, even in awhisper, to such a speculation; "but nobody is wise at all hours," noteven when the clock is striking five and twenty; and you are to considerhis profession, his good looks, and the temptation--ten to three.
After Slough the party was reduced to three; at Twylford one ladydropped her handkerchief; Captain Dolignan fell on it like a lamb; twoor three words were interchanged on this occasion. At Reading theMarlborough of our tale made one of the safe investments of that day, hebought a Times and Punch; the latter full of steel-pen thrusts andwoodcuts. Valor and beauty deigned to laugh at some inflamed humbug orother punctured by Punch. Now laughing together thaws our human ice;long before Swindon it was a talking match--at Swindon who so devoted asCaptain Dolignan?--he handed them out--he souped them--hetough-chickened them--he brandied and cochinealed one, and he brandiedand burnt-sugared the other; on their return to the carriage, one ladypassed into the inner compartment to inspect a certain gentleman's seaton that side of the line.
Reader, had it been you or I, the beauty would have been the deserter,the average one would have stayed with us till all was blue, ourselvesincluded; not more surely does our slice of bread and butter, when itescapes from our hand, revolve it ever so often, alight face downward onthe carpet. But this was a bit of a fop, Adonis, dragoon,--so Venusremained in _tete-a-tete_ with him. You have seen a dog meet an unknownfemale of his species; how handsome, how _empresse_, how expressive hebecomes; such was Dolignan after Swindon, and to do the dog justice, hegot handsome and handsomer; and you have seen a cat conscious ofapproaching cream,--such was Miss Haythorn; she became demurer anddemurer; presently our captain looked out of the window and laughed;this elicited an inquiring look from Miss Haythorn.
"We are only a mile from the Box Tunnel."
"Do you always laugh a mile from the Box Tunnel?" said the lady.
"Invariably."
"What for?"
"Why, hem! it is a gentleman's joke."
Captain Dolignan then recounted to Miss Haythorn the following:--
"A lady and her husband sat together going through the BoxTunnel,--there was one gentleman opposite; it was pitch dark: after thetunnel the lady said, 'George, how absurd of you to salute me goingthrough the tunnel.' 'I did no such thing.' 'You didn't?' 'No! why?''Because somehow I thought you did!'"
Here Captain Dolignan laughed and endeavored to lead his companion tolaugh, but it was not to be done. The train entered the tunnel.
_Miss Haythorn._ Ah!
_Dolignan._ What is the matter?
_Miss Haythorn._ I am frightened.
_Dolignan_ (moving to her side). Pray do not be alarmed; I am near you.
_Miss Haythorn._ You are near me,--very near me, indeed, CaptainDolignan.
_Dolignan._ You know my name?
_Miss Haythorn._ I heard you mention it. I wish we were out of this darkplace.
_Dolignan._ I could be content to spend hours here, reassuring you, mydear lady.
_Miss Haythorn._ Nonsense!
_Dolignan._ Pweep! (Grave reader, do not put your lips to the nextpretty creature you meet, or you will understand what this means.)
_Miss Haythorn._ Ee! Ee!
_Friend._ What is the matter?
_Miss Haythorn._ Open the door! Open the door!
There was a sound of hurried whispers, the door was shut and the blindpulled down with hostile sharpness.
If any critic falls on me for putting inarticulate sounds in a dialogueas above, I answer with all the insolence I can command at present. "Hitboys as big as yourself"; bigger, perhaps, such as Sophocles, Euripides,and Aristophanes; they began it, and I learned it of them, sore againstmy will.
Miss Haythorn's scream lost most of its effect because the enginewhistled forty thousand murders at the same moment; and fictitious griefmakes itself heard when real cannot.
Between the tunnel and Bath our young friend had time to ask himselfwhether his conduct had been marked by that delicate reserve which issupposed to distinguish the perfect gentleman.
With a long face, real or feigned, he held open the door; his latefriends attempted to escape on the other side,--impossible! they mustpass him. She whom he had insulted (Latin for kissed) depositedsomewhere at his feet a look of gentle, blushing reproach; the other,whom he had not insulted, darted red-hot daggers at him from her eyes;and so they parted.
It was, perhaps, fortunate for Dolignan that he had the grace to be afriend to Major Hoskyns of his regiment, a veteran laughed at by theyoungsters, for the Major was too apt to look coldly upon billiard-ballsand cigars; he had seen cannon-balls and linstocks. He had also, to tellthe truth, swallowed a good bit of the mess-room poker, which made it asimpossible for Major Hoskyns to descend to an ungentlemanlike word oraction as to brush his own trousers below the knee.
Captain Dolignan told this gentleman his story in gleeful accents; butMajor Hoskyns heard him coldly, and as coldly answered that he had knowna man to lose his life for the same thing.
"That is nothing," continued the Major, "but unfortunately he deservedto lose it."
At this, blood mounted to the younger man's temples; and his senioradded, "I mean to say he was thirty-five; you, I presume, aretwenty-one!"
"Twenty-five."
"That is much the same thing; will you be advised by me?"
"If you will advise me."
"Speak to no one of this, and send White the L3, that he may think youhave lost the bet."
"That is hard, when I won it."
"Do it, for all that, sir."
Let the disbelievers in human perfectibility know that this dragooncapable of a blush did this virtuous action, albeit with violentreluctance; and this was his first damper. A week after these events hewas at a ball. He was in that state of factitious discontent whichbelongs to us amiable English. He was looking in vain for a lady, equalin personal attraction to the idea he had formed of George Dolignan asa man, when suddenly there glided past him a most delightful vision! alady whose beauty and symmetry took him by the eyes,--another look: "Itcan't be! Yes, it is!" Miss Haythorn! (not that he knew her name!) butwhat an apotheosis!
The duck had become a peahen--radiant, dazzling, she looked twice asbeautiful and almost twice as large as before. He lost sight of her. Hefound her again. She was so lovely she made him ill--and he, alone, mustnot dance with her, speak to her. If he had been content to begin heracquaintance the usual way, it might have ended in kissing: it must endin nothing. As she danced, sparks of beauty fell from her on all around,but him--she did not see him; it was clear she never would see him--onegentleman was particularly assiduous; she smiled on his assiduity; hewas ugly, but she smiled on him. Dolignan was surprised at his success,his ill taste, his ugliness, his impertinence. Dolignan at last foundhimself injured; "who was this man? and what right had he to go on so?He never kissed her, I suppose," said Dolle. Dolignan could not proveit, but he felt that somehow the rights of property were invaded. Hewent home and dreamed of Miss Haythorn, and hated all the uglysuccessful. He spent a fortnight trying to find out who hi
s beautywas,--he never could encounter her again. At last he heard of her inthis way: A lawyer's clerk paid him a little visit and commenced alittle action against him in the name of Miss Haythorn, for insultingher in a railway train.
The young gentleman was shocked; endeavored to soften the lawyer'sclerk; that machine did not thoroughly comprehend the meaning of theterm. The lady's name, however, was at last revealed by this untowardincident; from her name to her address was but a short step; and thesame day our crestfallen hero lay in wait at her door, and many asucceeding day, without effect. But one fine afternoon she issued forthquite naturally, as if she did it every day, and walked briskly on theparade. Dolignan did the same, met and passed her many times on theparade, and searched for pity in her eyes, but found neither look norrecognition, nor any other sentiment; for all this she walked andwalked, till all the other promenaders were tired and gone,--then herculprit summoned resolution, and, taking off his hat, with a voice forthe first time tremulous, besought permission to address her. Shestopped, blushed, and neither acknowledged nor disowned hisacquaintance. He blushed, stammered out how ashamed he was, how hedeserved to be punished, how he was punished, how little she knew howunhappy he was, and concluded by begging her not to let all the worldknow the disgrace of a man who was already mortified enough by the lossof her acquaintance. She asked an explanation; he told her of the actionthat had been commenced in her name; she gently shrugged her shouldersand said, "How stupid they are!" Emboldened by this, he begged to knowwhether or not a life of distant unpretending devotion would, after alapse of years, erase the memory of his madness--his crime!
"She did not know!"
"She must now bid him adieu, as she had some preparations to make for aball in the Crescent, where everybody was to be." They parted, andDolignan determined to be at the ball, where everybody was to be. He wasthere, and after some time he obtained an introduction to Miss Haythorn,and he danced with her. Her manner was gracious. With the wonderful tactof her sex, she seemed to have commenced the acquaintance that evening.That night, for the first time, Dolignan was in love. I will spare thereader all a lover's arts, by which he succeeded in dining where shedined, in dancing where she danced, in overtaking her by accident whenshe rode. His devotion followed her to church, where the dragoon wasrewarded by learning there is a world where they neither polk norsmoke,--the two capital abominations of this one.
He made an acquaintance with her uncle, who liked him, and he saw atlast with joy that her eye loved to dwell upon him, when she thought hedid not observe her. It was three months after the Box Tunnel thatCaptain Dolignan called one day upon Captain Haythorn, R. N., whom hehad met twice in his life, and slightly propitiated by violentlylistening to a cutting-out expedition; he called, and in the usual wayasked permission to pay his addresses to his daughter. The worthyCaptain straightway began doing quarter-deck, when suddenly he wassummoned from the apartment by a mysterious message. On his return heannounced with a total change of voice, that "It was all right, and hisvisitor might run alongside as soon as he chose." My reader has divinedthe truth; this nautical commander, terrible to the foe, was incomplete and happy subjugation to his daughter, our heroine.
As he was taking leave, Dolignan saw his divinity glide into thedrawing-room. He followed her, observed a sweet consciousness deepeninto confusion,--she tried to laugh, and cried instead, and then shesmiled again; when he kissed her hand at the door it was "George" and"Marian" instead of "Captain" this and "Miss" the other.
A reasonable time after this (for my tale is merciful and skipsformalities and torturing delays), these two were very happy; they wereonce more upon the railroad, going to enjoy their honeymoon all bythemselves. Marian Dolignan was dressed just as before,--duck-like anddelicious; all bright except her clothes; but George sat beside her thistime instead of opposite; and she drank him in gently from her longeyelashes.
"Marian," said George, "married people should tell each other all. Willyou ever forgive me if I own to you; no--"
"Yes! yes!"
"Well, then, you remember the Box Tunnel." (This was the first allusionhe had ventured to it.) "I am ashamed to say I had L3 to L10 with WhiteI would kiss one of you two ladies," and George, pathetic externally,chuckled within.
"I know that, George; I overheard you," was the demure reply.
"Oh! you overheard me! impossible."
"And did you not hear me whisper to my companion? I made a bet withher."
"You made a bet! how singular! What was it?"
"Only a pair of gloves, George."
"Yes, I know; but what about it?"
"That if you did you should be my husband, dearest."
"Oh! but stay; then you could not have been so very angry with me, love.Why, dearest, then you brought that action against me?"
Mrs. Dolignan looked down.
"I was afraid you were forgetting me! George, you will never forgiveme?"
"Sweet angel! why, here is the Box Tunnel!"
Now, reader,--fie! no! no such thing! you can't expect to be indulged inthis way every time we come to a dark place. Besides, it is not thething. Consider, two sensible married people. No such phenomenon, Iassure you, took place. No scream in hopeless rivalry of theengine--this time!
+--------------------------------------------------------------+|Transcriber's Notes: || ||Inconsistencies in spelling have been retained as they appear ||in the original. || ||Page 14 was'nt changed to wasn't || 44 double quotation added after ... the wood || 72 double quotation added after ... hand it over. || 209 single quotation added after ... Captain jewel, || 214 "started" changed to "stared" || 216 double quotation changed to single quotation after || ... frongsay? || 223 repeated "in" in "him in in the name" removed |+--------------------------------------------------------------+
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