As good as a comedy, or, The Tennessean's story
page: 0 (TitlePage) [View Page 0 (TitlePage) ]AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. BY AN EDITOR. "1 have some purpose in It ;-and, but beat off these two rooks, 3ack Daw and his fellow, with any discontentment hither, and I'll honor thee forever." BEN JONSON. PHILADELPHIA: A. HART, LATE CAREY AND HART, 126 CHESTNUT STREET. 1852. page: 0[View Page 0] Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1862, by A. JIA1~T, in the Office of the Clerk o$~ the Districi~ Court in and for the Eastern District of rennsylvaida. I'HILAbELPJTTA ~ T. K. AND P. G. COLLINS, PRINtERS. M~ DEAR HARRY:- You have been, in your day and mine, as 'good as a thousand comedies to me. Why should I not endeavor to require you, after a very poor fashion of my own? Yet will you not know, any more than the Custo~m. House, when some repenting sinner of an importer makes anonymous restoration of defrauded dues, whose conscience it is from which this poor acknowledgment is drawn. It is, you may be sure, a very sincere one, couphd with the single misgiving that~my little "Com- edy" will scarcely prove half so agreeable to you, a~ yours has ever been to me. Nevertheless, you excellent wretch, be you grateful with the philosophy of Sancho, and look not the gift-horse too narrowlyly in the mouth.. L'ALLEGIIO. NEW YORK.' TO IIAR1~Y PLACID. 4 page: 0[View Page 0] ADVERTISEMENT. IN good faith, I very sincemly hope that * which this, little volume bears upon its f~ce nobody in. Noi~ that it Is written :out I' am that there is anything comic in its pages.. 1 tam that I have made no effort to make them * if merriment should be the result, I shall congratulate myself upon the possession of an tary endowment, which takes its owner quite by surprise as anybody else. But no; even if comedy in the narrative that follows, it will 'be mine-I were a Pagan to' lay claim to it. TJ fact, are but jottings down from the lips of and I don't know that I was greatly beguiled, heard them, into that happy humor which ma cry out in defiance, "Sessa! let the world pass!' I to confess honestly, I should rather admit ni that graver order of monkhood which never bea~ls on the face of, a tankard. I don't see a dily at any time, arid, knowing my infirmity, frequently suffer it to escape me by keeping toc on the watch for it. it so happens, according] being very amiable and anxious tG please, I after the fashion of Dr. Johnson's hutober, v procured to help bolster up Goldsmith~s first / the title will t~tke not s~ire am cer~ BO;a~id certainly ' involun- as much there 'be none Qf L~hese, i'n anotherr; when.I ~kes one Were yself of tells its. jest rea- I very closely ly, 'that, blunder rho was ,omedy, page: vi-vii[View Page vi-vii] ADVERTISEMENT. and do all my laughing in tha wrong place, and after the mirth has fairly subsided from the muscles of my neighbors. This makes me modest of judgment in all matters that affect the humorous, and hardly a proper person, therefore, to recount that which is so. But, indeed, I propose nothing of the kind. The title chosen fQr this volume is in some degree in compliance with necessity: it can scarcely be said to have been a matter of choice. This will be explained by our Introduction, to which I shall hasten with due speed, promising to make it as short as possible, since I have no hope to ~aake it funny. 'L'ALLEGRO. N~w YORK. S PROEM4 WE were nine of us, packed' snugly enough in a elo~e stage, and on the high road from Madison, in Georgia, to Montgomery, in Alabama. The night was d~rk, and the rain falling. The roads were bad, "and the ddver' aS d~unk as the least reasonable desperate could desire under the circumstances. Everybody has an idea, more or less vivid, of a dark and rainy night; most persons can form a notion ~of the drunken driver of a stage.. coach-a swearing, foul-mouthed fellow, pestilent, full of conceit and insolence, fully conscious of his power over his nags and passengers, and with jwst ~easui enough left to desire to use his poker so as to keep all parties appreh~nsive--his horses of the whip, and hi~ passengers of an upset. But if you know nothing of & Georgia 'road in bad weather, at the time I speak of, you can form but an imperfect ides of the nervous irritability of the nine within our vehicle that night, as, trundling through bog a~d through brier, over stump and stone, up hill and down dale-as desperate a chase, seemingly, as that~of the Wild' Horseman of Burger-we mo~ently cursed our fates, that had given us ever to such a keeping and such a progress. We could not~ee each other's faces, but w~ could hear each otherss words,. and feel each other's hips and elbows. VI U page: viii-ix[View Page viii-ix] Viii PROEM. "Hech! There we go I" "You're into me, stranger, with 'a monstrous sharp side of your own.~~ "Beg pardon, but-" [Jolt, toss, and tumble.] "We're gone now, I reckon !" A generalseramble followc.d the rolling of the bag- gage in the rear, and sudden silence of the human voice, while each.. stroke to maintain his equilibrium, seizing upon the nearest solid object. "She~rights !" said one. "Eh! does she? I'm glad of it," was the reply of another, sincec~ I hope this gentleman will noW suffer my head to get back fairly upon its shoulders." There was a release of the victim and an apology. Xndeed, there were several apologies necessary. We were niornently .n~akirig free with the arms and sides and shoulders of our neighbors, under the impulse of a sudden di'~ad' of the upset, which it is wonderful how we continued to escape. 'We compared notes.. Our apprehensions were general. The ~'driver ~as appealed to; we ~howled to him through the pipes of a Down Easter, entreating him to drive more gently. "Gently, ~ 'hanged !" was 'the horrid answer, fol- lowed up by a tremendous smack' of the whip. Away went the horses at a wil4er rate than ever, and we were left, without~ ~hope or consolation, to all sorts ofimagin- alAe and unitnaginablo teri'ors." We had no help for it, and no esca~p~." We could only brood over our terrors, and mutter our rage.' ~Th~re 'were cursps, not only loud,' b~~t deep. It was 'in vain that our individual philoso- phi~s 8trove to '~ilenc# ar discontents; these' were kept ~1iv&' by the ~suggestions of less amiable companions. I I I PROEM. / Our. very.efforts to conceal our fears sufficiently betrayed them to all who were cool enough ~o imake the discovery. But seIf~esteem was reassured by the general sympathy of most of our comrades. There were variou~ emotionS among us-the modified exponents of the one in com- mon-modified according to age, temper, and education. Our various modes of showing them made us altogether. a proper group for dramaticcontrasts. We could have played our parts, no doubt very decently, upon any stage but that. We could have strutted. manfully, and shown good legs, but scarcely upon board~ which creaked and cracked as with convulsions of thefr own, as we hurried headlong up the heights,. or rushed whiz- zing'~ through the mire. And 'we should have had variety enough. fot character. Our nine passengers might have represented as many States. Never was there a more grateful diversity. There was a school..~ master from Massachusetts. Whither, indeed, does not Massachusetts send her schoolmasters, teaching the same eternal notion of. the saintly mission of the Puri~ tans, and the perfect virtues, of their descendants? The genius of that State was certainly born a pedagogue, with birch in one hand and horn-book' in 'the .other ~ There was a machinist from Maine, a queer, quaint, shrewd, knowing, self4&ught Yankee, who had lost' half his fingers in experimenting with his own machines, and who was brim-full of a new. discovery which is~to secure us that "phuloso~her's stone" of the nineteenth century .-perpettial motion! The principle of our machinist seemed to lie in the amiable good-nature with which certain balls, precipitating themselves upon: e~ertMn. levers, would thus continue a series of ground. and lofty page: x-xi[View Page x-xi] I PRO1EM. ttmibliigs Whieh should keep the great globe it~eif in~ moti~n without ether motive a~noiesi Our New~ Yorker wa~ an eilitor, bound first for New Orleans~ and then for Mhiand, where he proposed t~ visit' the god: of his political idolatry. We had a Pennsylvanian, who: seemed to reel as if all the sham~' of State repudiation hiy on hi~ own particular shoulders4 ~ud a Mississippian, who' appeared to deplore nothing so much as that he~ could not claim more than the merit of a single vote in the glorious business of defying the foreign creditor of the union Bank. The encounter between these two parties-the humbled and responding tone of the one, contrasted with the exulting and triiu~iphant convictions of successful right in the othei~'-furnished picture of opposites that wa~ perfectly delightful. The leading idea which troubled our Virginian was, that Tykr was t6' be the last of the Presidents which' his State would furnish to the Union; while the South Carolinian, with whom he seemed intimate, consoled him with the assur- 'ance that his regrets were idle, as the Union would not much longer need a President. He indulged in the favorite idea that a dissolution was. at hand. "The Union," said he, answeredd the-purposes of the time. It has survived its uses." Our Georgian,' on the con.- tiary, was for the extension of 'the confederacy by the in~corpo'ration ~of as many new States south of us as we coul&pet~u~de into the f~Id. lie was even then upon his way to Texas, provided with his rifle only, in. order to 'be in the way to help in the' matter of annexation. Then we had a North Carolinian, a lank-sided fellow~ from Tar Rivrn'~ Who slept nearly all the way, spite of toss. and. tumble, talked only (and constantly) in his ~sleep, and then ~hie~y upon the Wotible of looking aft~r his own affairs. Ou~r n.intk man ~was a broth of a hey in the shape of 'a huge Tenuesseean, Who ailed up much more than his proper share of seat, and, trespas~in~ upon mine With hip, thigh, ~and shoul~ler, coxnpefled me TWill 1i'e, nill he) to redu~ee~myself to~dimensi n~far more ~mode~t *ai~ I have usually been dispose to in~ist'upo~i ~a5 i'~easenable. Rut, there ~was no chiding or complain. .ing. lie was ~ good-natured, ~o conscious of his im. voluntary trespasses; at lea~t, ~o di~bious' about them. "I crowd 'you, 'stranger; I'm afeard I crowd' you;" and he laid his huge paw upon my shoulder with the :air of onex who ~olioits all possible indulgence. If ~[ had 'been utterly squeezed out of prQper shape, I could scarcely have forborne the assurance, which .Iiustantjy made him, that he didn't crowd me in The least. "Well," said he, "'I'm 'glad to hear you say~so. I was a little dubious that I -was :sprea4ing over you; laud jif s~, I didn't know what to do then; for ber~, if'yo~i can feel, you'll see my 'f&t lies rather heavy upon the \(thighs of this perpetual ~~tion parson, and my k~iee is -a little ~too i~uch of a dig for the haunches of the :m~n in front. tIn fact, he's cutting -into me-~-~he's :wigh~ ~harp1" The man In front, who was-the Yae84ioobst~ .said ~sometliing in under tones to the affect that men. isuch zuon8trous oversi~o should always take tW9 pl.~ in&pi~biic conv~ya~ee, ~r5t~ravel in thefrown. I eaug1~ The words, -but'The Werniesseean did not. "Jim jest as Gad made me," he proceeded~ as' if apologetically; - '~nd if ?twa~i1d 'be any satisfac~jo~ ~QU, Stranger," addressingg' me,' "I'm. -willing to KOMM. page: xii-xiii[View Page xii-xiii] F ?RO0EM. that I would not be quite so broai 'if I had my 'own way, and the thing wa~ to be done over agin. But as that's not to be hoped for, I d6i~'t complain at all, eC you don't." How could, I complain &fter the, last suggestions- cbmpl'ain of a man who felt his own misfortune with such a proper conscience! The schoolmaster had some- thing to say. His tone ~was exceedingly indignant, but too much subdued for the ears of the Tennesseean. My amiable recognition of his bulk seemed to have won hi~ affe~tioas, if, indeed, his great size and my unavoid- able neighborhood did not suff ciently account' for them. His great fat haunches nestled most lovingly against me, threatening 'to overlap me entirely, while his huge arm encircled~ my neck with an embrace which would hava honored that of the Irish Giant. It was 'fortunate that we had no such sulky scoundrels within the stage 'a~s he who lorded it frorri? the box. ~If we swore at 1dm, we kept terms with one another. If the storm roared without,' we were pacific' 'enough within; and it was wonderful, with. such a variety, and with so much to distress and disquiet! 'Yi~xed and wearied with the 'as- 'pect of affairs without, we succeeded in maintaining good conditions within; our curses were expended upon ~the driver; for one' another, 'we had nothing butcivility; good nattst~e, 'if not good humor, keeping us in that so~ ~sbriety of temper in res~e~ct to one another, when an innocent freedom passes without offence, and we tolerate a familiar in the barbarian whom, at another season, we Bholild probably scarce 'recognize as an acquaintance. iBut mere good.nature has no chance, in the. lon~ run; against 'the protracted fatigue and wearines~ of 'such ~ 2h0J3)[ ~zIu 'ride as onre; ~and, ~as if ~by '~t~bit co~etit, '~aI1 p*rti~s seemed 'to rfOOL the nec ity~ofan ~ff ate ~etu~ ~1olors. ~IYhe ~taine ~nian, i~ ,is ~tr~ue disc~~urs~dijf' chine&, and 3the Ma aoh~~etts ~mau ~of ~ ~tli~e one wasfulLof sa~ws,~the otherof xn&~ims; but~the:veq ~0qua~e' and' :compass characterr of' i~heir 'mnt~iai'gidn~s was a ~worse rnot~otoi~yand ~fatig~ie tMn the waflowin~ of our wheels in mire. ~Alively ~account, ;~hich ~the 'Mississippini now~ aveizs, 4f the pursuit audhanging of 'the KYazoo es,.P..that ~terrible 'trag~dby, which still needs an historian..~s6on jed ~us upon another ~and more agreeable track, npon ~whioh'the Georgian ~ter~d 'with 'a Darratwe of this own ~ in winter, with ha~bed '~askes; Tohiig sucee h& the ~Soiith ~Carolin~an, :With, an ftecoun~t of ~ faiu6us ~sePto '~whicli he :h~d ~euj~yed the season bQfore 'with certain ~b'QlitiODi~tS at 'New It~veu, 'and ~whioh 4he fcoTh~lu4ed with an eloquent sh~wing ~ confederacy by next J~ily. A. ~stout e~t~v~~rsy fdk Jowed between him and the repiesen'tat~ve;frorn~assa. ehusetts, in which the' 'grievances and~quarre1. between~ ~the"'Vwo $tate were particularly discussed; ~the 'Oare.. linian 'coucluding~by proposing ~avely to ~ia opponent that the~ter~itoryQf '2N~orthOarolina ehoi~ld b&hire4l~y 'the belligerent~Statos 'for pio~eefsettlin~'Yt~eir squabbles ini"the only 'b omiig~ and i~aniy'w&y~ b~ ~ 'resort 'to "~the t~1tim~t ~r4tio. This disp~ite ~t~iis deter.. \Znifle&-for this strong~ proposition. seem~d1oconfoiu~d the 'man of Webster.~we ~ t~ ~4 in ~turn, each moui~tit~' his 'favoritel~obl)y'. 'It wa~ an 'easy transition~, from this, into ~inec4ot~ an4~ste~'y, 'and eyen ,our ~orth 'CaroJi~iiani ~roused '~hims~lf up ~with~~ 2 xii page: xiv-xv[View Page xiv-xv] j: flw~. gntnt, t~ yell out a'wild;ditty of the "old North Stat~," whThh he heard erom hi~ greatgrandmother, arid which ]ie~ thought the finest thing in'the shape of zriixed.'~song and ~'story' ~hieh 'had ever~ 'been delivered 'to, 'mortal ~enses'~sifloe ;Vhe'days of the' prophets. It was onecof 'the .m~ny'rude ballads of a domestic character, which w~ 'hi~ve~ unwisely' failed toy preserve,, which rehearsed 'the doirig~ and i~ea~th of fllackbeard the Pirate, "as he sailed" in aid: out. of the harbors of Ocracoke aiid Pamlico.' The ,strain was. a. wofiil and' must~have been - ~ tedious 'one~ but for the interposition of ~~oina special pi'ovide'nce,'icth& secret of ~hieh remains hidden rrom us to this~'~ day.'.. It ~was observed that' th& voice, of ~the singer, pitched, iipoxt the highest Vo~sible: key at. the. beginning, ~gradually fell ~ff.' towards the close ~f the second ~natra1in~ sunk' into a,;feeble~ drawl 'and quaver ore he had~ reached the third,' and stopped short very suddeiily ~ri tl~e middle of tjw fourth. We scarcely ~d~red, any ~f us, to conjecture the cause of an intera ~'ru'ptiou which Aispleased nobody. If this "sweet sing- er2' from Tar River fell &gain to. hi~ slumbers, it' is certain that',not a whisper t6 this effect ever passed his lips. He gave us no~ premonitionsof 'sleep, and no se- 'qiz~l to his ballad. We weIe aU satisfied that' he sLwxld "have his Own way ~in the matter, and neyer asked him the' rest of the ditty~ He Will probably wake up yet 'to ~nish it, but in what' company or ~wJiat coa&h $here~fter, ;and after~Wha~t~ ~eas'on~of' repose, it is hardly "prudent to~guess~ and ~not'incumb~nt ~n us as a duty.; ~ 'His quieLdistr~ssed non~ '6f us. There were pth~~s '~niious totake his 'place;1and We soon got to' be a ~er- ~y' company. indeed. Gradually~ in the increasing inte- / p. , , N" rao~. , rest of the several na~rrative~,we ibrgoit~ tern'poi~a4Iy, tiw bad i~oads and~ ~tl~e drunken ~driver,'~reoalld t~ the painful recollection only by an, ocoa~ional A~rash. and, curse froi~i without, to which we' ~huv~ our ears almost a~ feri~ently"as did Ulysses; when gliding ~ tha dogs of Scylla. Our. singers WereAn 'tri~th, no gr~at~ 8kakes, and our storyc.tellers soareely Jetter; but ~we grevr indulgent just as we grew n&~dy, ~d our tastes acc&mmodated themselves to. our necessities~ it ~as only; after all parties seemed ;to 'ha1ve exhausted tbeir, budget, their efforts sullsiding into 'short~ and feeble snatches-when :there .w~s~enly, at'longi~tervals, W sort~. of' crackling: from'dry thorns~ nndei~ tj~e pot of wit-~W' ~as oiily' then that Our mammoth Tenn~s~eean~ wEoIi~d hitherto ~naiz tamed ~a very m~4~st silence; as if totally unambitious of the honors. ~of, the t'aconteur, noWw sud~ denly ~aroused himself with ~ ~hak& not' very unlike that of a Newfoundland dog fresh from the water. "Stranger,"' say'~h~ to me, "ef so lie you w~ll~ only 8lcrOOge yourself upso as ~ let me ~ parfeetly free for 'a~ swine, us I find it. necessary,~ I'll. let out a little upon you in relationto 5artaupsarvum~; stances that, 'come p~retty~' much to my own knowledge, a year or two ago, 'in Florida.'~ ~To s/croogezriy8eif. up, 'iu~ tiw e~pre~ive idiom ~ ~rny neighbor, into a. yet x~ar'rower c&nlpass than ~i h~i4 keeu compelled to keep before,:was a. thingjwlrnlly out e( the, question. But a change of position migh1~ be effected, to the relief of both parties, and this wa~ all Ahat ha really wanted. I' contrived, after a desperate effort, to satisfy him, and, in some degr~ae; n~y'seW ",I can't~ somehow, tnik~ easy,~f i~y~rms.~ ain't page: xvi-xvii[View Page xvi-xvii] / - i. PnOEM. loose," he eoiitbiued; a~polog~ticall ." My tongue ~atid' ar~ii m~tist somehow work togetherp'or I ain't half th~ L ought 'to be. It's li~a being: sneered to spout oat, when 'you're rushing ~zp&nr the inimy; an&w1~en' yew c~n h~lloo ~s you rush, you feel wolfish all over. I'v& had th~ feeling. Now; .it's so in talking. Ef you c~xx~ use' the arnis when~ yowtalk, y~ur w~rd~ .~ome' free, a~d j0st of the right nature. it'~ like~ what~ ~eople~ 'me~n when they say I the word, and1 the' IJiow V They' d~ help each~ other n~ighti1y~ Now, L'll~ t~y, as W&re~ niightily close set for room in this wagon~ to~ jest maker as littler a~swing of the arinsras' possible; fo~yow s~e~ I might, onint~nding: anything of the Sort; give a' persouj standing or sitting'on e~ side of me, a' smart notion of a knock; that isjin th~ heat and hurry of the' argument.. I've don ~~uoh as thing tore than once, Without mean- ing itj oi~ly~'I'll try tobe:within bouud~ this time, audi I be~ yon take~ no~ offence. Fm~ si*e;~ gei~tlemen, if my ~oiiow dun7t~trouUe you~ though' it's a~ rather on- easy~ ~neJ shan~t mind it ~t all' niy~elV'~ ' Here ~as~ an excellent~ fellow!' In~ hi~ eioqueuce; he~ might swing his '~reat".' ni~utton fist across my ~znaz~ard,.' andy th~ thing~ if not posiiivel~ disagreeable to' me;~ would be of no sort of distU'ce~to~liizd '~. kwas dif~.', ficult to coz~ceive~'ih whM s~he~l heihad~cq~iired'his pHi- lose~hy. It.~was~ ~ertz.4nly ~s coo1~as that~of St. Omer'4~ but. rs~th~r 1a~cking~ in its refinein'ent~ At~ afl events~ common sens& required that; w L ~oiiid: not entii~ely~' ~ ~,Viotr~, ]~ shouki kee~"as shai~p~ air eye iip~n it ~asI possible.' It might haves been~. the ~af~st.t~o~ui'so' to reject the story~ in reg~rd~ to~"its~. accompaniments, lAit that wouW have~ ~ and t might xvii. h~re ineu~edtlie~repreaoliof boitig ti1~reus; Desid~s~ there was some curiosity to :hear~ whaf~ sort of ~ s~to~y would issue fr&m such a. soixree, an4 we, i~ei~e ~a11 too muc& in ne~d of excitement to. o~Thr any di~eei~rag~- mentstoa new ha~id proposing to work *~or~ouz' benefit;. sb,. after mode~tly~suggesting the propriety. 4fizsing as little action as. possible, we Jegan toI~ok; With COi~5F~ derable anxiety to the~ reopening~ of tJios~ huge jaws, from which, to say truth, whatever might be~ th&go~4 things occasionally going in, ~but few of na had az~y anticipations of good things eoniing ~ut4 :flut was slow Ito begin. H~e~ had his preliminai'y comments np&u what had gone before. His~ previous silence seems~o have~ been due to his. habit of: bolting all hi0, food~at once, and diges4ng it at Jei~ure.~. We~ were now to hear hjs critical judgment on previous narratives :~- "I've been rnighty1well pleased," quoth the ~Tenne~ 's~eau, '.' with some of them' sarcu~st&noe~ you've been telling 'among' you, fell~ws, and I've made 3consider~ble ji~dgment on some. of 'them that d~n't seem to me n~ade to carry 'water. But '.1 won't ~be parthdar j~st snow, except~to saythat I .don~t seethat thei~arrow~na~ thar~ with his hips cutting into the '~aft~ part0 ~ my~ kuee at~ every turn down ;hill (the New England sehoow~st&4 I don't see, I' say, ~that he made so good an one ofit~s he 'niight- bav&,done4 'Though that~ aginy may be ~t1~& misfortune of , the sai'cumstai~ce, and' not hi& fa~ih. in telling It~ The ~ense 'is,~ ef ~o be~uthe thgh~pp0n~d. I', as:b~e 't'elis.it, ~tEeu 'th~ who1~ town' aid ooui~try &ught to be li~ked~to Binders fot. ~ufferitig' ~the poorga~l t& 'be so imposed on. ]3y the powers'!. I~d Bght t&the stun4, 9* 'K page: xviii-xix[View Page xviii-xix] xViii en~ d~yuid h~4 1iu1~ ?di xrnil~& th~ riiexv see~ tho~ th~#ot *~ak ~Wo~naiV wn~t~ t~ be~ the oily sufferer !?'~ It *k~ild~ b~ ~tedioi±~ ~ Wanting 'our T~nnes~ee~n~ u~d~7 atg~ind~ dtw baek~6d~majm. took~ off~nce at th~pi~fietie~. irv o~xr Ya~ik&~' ~t~wy. It was one' of~ th~s& nti~res~ of ~d~ti ~ fkieqneiit: in iai~g~e~ co d~lcit1e~1ie1% the ~vk~tiiiiis tlw only suffe~'er,~ and' th~ci'i1t1inal th~ oily Arne' to find s~foty ifnott sy.ni- pa~thy~ tPIi~ ii~ri~itor h~4 given it: ast a~ fs~t.:,within hi~ oWIP e~dri~ice, as c~ri~g in his n&t~vO city; and the offeni4d~fe~t inhi r~tion,~which the skill ofthe Ten~ n~ss~eai~ Wa~ alile oiil~ to' d~t~ct aid ilot to' define, ~on~ si~tediii hts~ emotionless and, cold~blooded wa~y of unfol4- ing hisi ~ails~ Qf horror1 without 'showing thae he' felt any of the4ndign~ation which his ta~l~ prov~okeci in every' othor bosom. "'Swili things' can~t ha~ipen in Tennessee; I tell you, strange ; a~d ef tKey did, nobody #uldc be~ the wiser of it. You'~t hear of ihe 'pooV gal's death, the fii'~t thing; and~ ~h~'d di ~ehapsof' ~ But sh~'d'rather - die' right away, a thousand deaths, sooner than have her sham4' in the mouth of any of her; kindred~; and ef so be it~ ha~pe~ to kak out;. tlier~ would be~omebody~ s~a brother;: ~ friend~, or eeusin;. or, maybe, hel' own father, or m~y e'a~'ontk-n6wn s1~rang~r like" rnyself-4o burn pin~tig~foi~ her ~ake, ~s& that tlie~ 'h~aok~hearted vill~in~ sh~uldh't h~e~it air. to ~irn~elf. Tht. I ain't a. going t&~eehi~e your story'.' I rather reckon it can't be tUe~ j~5t. o~ you Mi it, &tranger. I. ean't think so b~41y of The 'fellow, w~ptou,'though'1 reckon he'~ bad enough, ~nd Ican't think so~eaniy of your people, that PRQ~JM; xi~ etatid' i~t ~hn" get~ofr without a ~er~teh upon ~ia',1ii&~e. I reckon it's a made up things je to~iakepeople~ rntr1%~ s~ I won't believe~ awerd: ~f'it.. But the one- ]~t~ 'to tell is in sober airn~st. It happened, every bit, of i4 o~ good authority. The~d~ I'm-a knowing'to a p~rb on ~t myself, a's~ you'll' s~e wheu~ we~ get on; though th~ ~ettei~ part' ~fii~'T gotifom tho ~oithofa~ovher~- It'si a~i8t%4' I phked tip in Florida~- When I ~en~'4bwzwt~ fight ~Ji~ Sinienoles. You know that whei~ the .rigf "sgoti on' s~ badly with the irijitis, sphu'gitig here ~4tliere witip their big columns, and never 4~ing~ anything, old ~I$c~iry' swore, byall splii~ter~, that weboys'from Ton~ssee~shoujd d~the business. So we turned ont- a~ ~rria1l ehanee of vo~l~~ inters, and[ Wa~~ o~&e' among' 'em.~ 'Down-we wer~V, ~ab kolating 'to' ride~ like a small :Ji~r4c~ne through and through the red skins; but. twan't 80 easy ~V ifl~1tte4 after alt, and t d6h~t think'we ~en ~e~ans\ did~ any better than other p~eople. It wan'tonr faulty to be'surp~ for we'd ha~ fit. fast-enough, an.d whipped 'en~ t~o~ of th~ sneaking v ts'would~ ha~ c~m~ up to th~is~rateh; but they fought shy~ an&i all the gl~ry I got in- the ~&a~ paign for my share,~ Would li~ on thelittiet end: of cambric needle.' But I~ learn~cb some s4~range tbing~ in the campaign, and I ain't a bit sorry that I'.~ent. '0n4-~ sarcumstaiteei~ seems to' me, was a leetie more strawge~ than ~nythii~g I've hearn in~ this Wagon;. a~n4if I could: only tell it-to you, as~ I heard some- p~rt~ of. it i~ll'd~ t~ ritte, I reckon yon ~ alisay 'twae s~go~a~ a c~im~4i". "As gooc~ as a Gomec4fl"~ was the hop~~iil oxcku~ra. tion all ~'ound., ' ' ' - "Let's have it, by all ~eans,"wasthe eagerKohorus of arousing. sph'i~si. / PMEM page: xx-xxi[View Page xx-xxi] P~dOAM- "A~y, Tenuessae, o~W witJ~ it, ~u ~iort orde~," §was the abrupt ~ tlv0eorgb~n. "9bli~ us," w~as the condescending entreatyof$oi~th:; CarQliiia. . ," Go ahead, old, horse," yelled. .j~he Mis~i~sippian, wlieelingaboutfrom the middle seat of~ thesta~, and bAngit~g. Eis hard hand' flatly down, and with great ~ the . sj~a~ieus territory of thigh that Tennesae~ clai~6d for its own, while trespassing greatly. up~n that of it8. neighbors ; au~ theentreaty wa~ prompt~ ly ~oflo~we4 upbyThe n~achinj~t frQni Maine, the ex~ed~tor fp~ni ~New Y~rk,' and eveii the lymphatic pilgrim from Tar River~ who; ~tarting from his seventb heaven: of sleep and -dream, cried, aloud, in haWwaking ecsta~-~ "A. comedy, 0 V yes, gi's ~ comedy. . I'~u mortal fond of coz~iedy." ~'Letitbut prove 'what yow promise,'~ said the New Yorker,:" and \iIi~ll send it' to harry Placide." ~' Harry I~?la~ide ?" exoThiined Tennessee, inquiringly.. - "The gi~at Aneri~au actoi~ ~of. comedy!" was ~the exp~anatoryansWe~ fi'e~m, New York. "P11 wr~te~ out yo~ story, should 'it prove~ a good one, ~nd will send it tollarry.' Jle'JLmake &coniedy of it, ~f the stuff's in - \, . .-, We spare~all~ that New -York said on the occasion, in honor of cQrfLedy~ a~d ~ryYlaeide, and in; respect to native ;rn&terials ,~ for ~the ~comie muse; par~ioularly as the ~tisMssippian~wqund :bitu'A~p, in the most prolonged 'pa~rt of his 4sertati6~with4' "O~i! shut up, stranger, anyhow, and. don't b~ot1~er y'eur~heakabout the ~ct6r until we get the pTh1yY Not an unreasonable suggestion. OurI Te~nesseea~ PB~M. I~i seemed tof~a~ ~ha ~bad~ ~o~i~d to~~10& ~ prudent~ qu~1ified th~ titie of his:narr~tivre ;p~e~t1~ discovering,. fbr th0 first tirne~ that: "comedf ~ souietliing different from story. I tellyou that when I~rst.hea~rdd tI a#~i2r, ~rbody 8aid 'twas as 'goddawa c edy,' audi. theu~ht~V~o~ 'Ti~as~ over a cauqiffre ~tli&t~ *e~ fret heard; it~andLit mont be that w~ were' all of us jest~ i~ the humor t~ Iii4 a~ comedy iw an~t1il4 The.~ story a~ayn't be IIkO~ a comedy, the way ]~;t~ll it~ for~you~ see. I don't~ prQfes#ti be good~ ifli sech histol4es7;1 bu~ I i~o~on~ e~ yoiioeuld ha seer~ aud~ heard; the ohap that fii~st' tell'd iis,.I~y tIiem~ old c~p-~fire~,. on the Withlacboohae,, you~d say, as we ~aid all ofus, 't~as a~ ~god~as a~ooi~edy'.'' "' Didit~ make youd~gh4~' demanded New! Ri~gl~n4, abruptly. "Laugh! I gire~ sofl~e did~. ds~e dldn%" ~ the sati~f&vt~ry bi~t s e~reply -" What I~w~of thee affair myself w~s no l.u~ix~g matter ~ b~it well keep that hack fo~. t~e~ lI~~ti. 'Twa& something~. ak~st~ toQ strange- for la~ighing; the 'n~r~,4oo, ~s We k~e~'dit t~, be notlihig but. th~'truth~ and~ ~t~bappen~d~her4 toot in one of these western e~ t~eeo Ge~gia;'~. Here-the Ge~iIg~ax~ p'nin~ eon&1eutly~.- "I reckoii iknow all;a~b~i& Thr~ hea~r4 ~ veryc&i:dly. "'Oh, no!" rnode~tly resped~eprgh~. "Butt, eM yes? 1~f ~ ~ it;~~'~e ~ s~r~pf right t~ it; se~ iVs in your owx~ country; and i~[ r~tt~.Jzer. reckon you oan w~ke &~b~tter~ mouti ul ~f: V z1~ 1. / / page: xxii-xxiii[View Page xxii-xxiii] V ,i PkOEM' 'PROEM. ]i but ~a ~poor stick at such things, and am quite 'aS ready to hear you, stranger, as to talk myself." "Pshaw'!" exclaimed the Georgian. "Go ahead, man. I'm a mighty conceited fellow, I know, but that's rw reason yoiv should hold me up to make me say so." "Gi's your hand, my lad; you're a good weapon, I see; though, n~ay-1o, a little too quick on trigger." ~Agripe. of'~ the extended fists followed in the dark, and the Tennesseean proceeded. "The sarcumstance that I am going to tell you tuck place in one of the western counties of Georgia, not many years ago, and there's many a person living who can jest now lay their fingers on the very parties. I've seen some of them myself0 You must take the thing for its truth more than for its pleasantry; for, about the one I can answer, and about the other I'm as good as nobody to have an opinion. I'm not the man to make folks laugh, unless it's at me, and then ItI'm jest as apt to make them cry~, too; so you see I'm as good as comedy and tragedy both, to some. But, as I con~ fess, a joke don't gain much in goodness when it leaves my mouth; and ef so be-" We silenced these preliminaries viva voce; and, thus arrested, our Tennesseean left off his faces and began. In a plain and direct manner, 'he related the occurrences ~hioh will be fot~nd in the following chapters. He was n4 hutnorist, though he ~uffered' us all to see in what the humorous susceptibilities of his story lay. It was the Qddity of~ the circumstances, rather than their hu- morr that held out the 'attraction ~for me; and Ii cc~uld readily perceive how, without confounding comedy with the merely humorous and ludicrous, the materials' thus xxii thrown together might, by a dext6rous hand, be con- verted to the purposes of the stage. The story illus~ rates curiously the variety and freedom of character which we find' everywhere in our forest country, where no long-established usages subdue the fresh and eager impulses of originality, and where, as if in very mockery of the conventionalities of city life, the stranAest eccen- tricities of mood and feeling dispfry themselves in a connection with the most unimpeachable virtue-eccen~ tricities of conduct such as 'would shock the demurer damsel of the city; to whom the proprieties themselves are virtues-yet without impairing those' substantial virtues of the country girl, whose principles are wholly' independent of externals. Let the reader only keep in mind the perfect freedom of will, and the absence of prescriptive or ~fashionable discipline in our border countries, and there will be nothing strange or extrava- gant in what is here related of the heroine. In putting these details together, I have adopted a fashion of my own, though without hoping, any more than our Tennesseean, to bring out the humorous points of the na~rati've.: These must be left to the fancy of the reader. "As good as a comedy" need~ not imply a story absolutely comic; 'and I do not promise one~ Still, I am disposed to think and to hope that the title thus sportively adopted will not be found wholly map.. ~ propriate to the volume. NEW YOIIK. V 4 page: xxiv-25[View Page xxiv-25] V K AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: THE TEN~ES~EEAN'~ STOIY. CHAPTER 1. A GEORGIA BREAKFAST. L1~T us start fairly, and not -on ~n empty stomach. Reader, we begin with a Georgia breakfast.'. We ~ar~ at one of ~those pIain~~ unpretending, but ~ub~tantial, farm-houses, which, in the interior of ~O'eQrgia~,and other Southern 'States,' distingt4shed more e~precia1l$ the older inhabitants; thos6 who, from time 'iii~memo- rial, bve appeared pretty mueli as we find "tlieihn~w. These all date back' beyond the Revolution ;~ the usual. epoch, in 'our country, at which an ancient ft~mily may be permitted to 'begin. 'The region is one of 'those lovely spots' among' the barrens 'of ~middle 'Georgia, in which, surVeyed from the proper point bf view, there is nothing barren. You a~e not to suppose thesettlement '~ an old 'one~ by any means, for it is not more than twenty or twenty-five ~r~ars since' 'all the contiguous territory within a space of' sixty miIe~' was' rested' from the savages. ]3ut our fcemi1~i is an' Qid' one;' .iiihoriting~ll" the pride, the tastes, and~ the 'feelings which 'b~ei9~ged to the old Southern "' Continentaler." This will' be apparent as we proceed; 'a& it is apparent, -in f~oi~, tOF the eye which contrasts the 'exterior ofits dwelling"widi 3: ' ' page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, that of the neighboring settlements among which it harbors. 'The spot, though undistinguished by sur- prising scenery,' is a very lovely one, and not unfre- quent in the middle country of the Atlantic Southern states. It presents a pleasing prospect under a single glance of the eye, of smooth lawn, and gentle acclivity, and lofty forest growth. A streamlett, or Iiranch,~as it is here called, winds .along~ murmuring as it goes, at the foot of~ ~ gentle eminence which is crowned with a luxu- riant wealth of pine and cedar. Looking up from this 'spot while your steed, drinks, you behold, perched on 'another gentle swell of ground, as snug~and handsome an edifice as our forest country usually affords; none of your overgrown ambitious establishments, but a trim tidy dwelling, consisting of a single story of wood upon a brick basement, and surrounded on three sides by a most glorious piazza. The lawn slopes away, for several hundred yards, an. even and very gradual descent even to 'the road; a broad tract, well sprinkled with noble trees, oaks, oranges, and cedars; with here and there a clump of towering pines, under which' steeds are grazing, in. whoSe slender and symmetrical forms, clean legs, and glossy skins, you may discern instant signs of those superior foreign breeds which the Southern, planter so much' affects. The house; neatly painted white, with green blinds and shutters, is kept in admirable trini; and, from the. agreeable arrangement' of trees and' shrubbery, it would.seem that the place had been laid out and was tenan.ted by those who brought good taste and, a be- coming sense of the beautiful to the task. There was nogreat exercise of.. art, itv is true. That is nQt pre- tended. 'But nature was not suffered to have her own way. entirely, was not suffered to overrun the face of' the land with her luxuriance;, nor was man so savage as to strip her utterly of all h~r graooful deoorations- a crime which we are too frequently called upon~ to de- plore and to denounce, when we contemplate the habita- tions even of the wealthy among our people, particularly in the south, despoiled, by barbarity, of all their shade- TilE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 27 trees, and denuded of all the grace and softness whieli these necessarily confer upon the landscape. Here, the glance seemed, to rest satisfied with' what it beheld,. and. to want for nothing9 There might be bigger h6iises, and loftier, structures, of more ~mbitiou~ design and more commanding proportion~; but' this was certainly very neat, and.very much in its place. Its ~white '&ut~ lines caught your eye, glinting through openings of' the' forest, approaching by the road on either hand; for some distance' before you drew nigh, and with' ~ucii ui: air' of peace and sweetness,' that you were' insensib'1y~ prepared to 'regard its inmates as very good and welh bred people. :Nor are we wrong in these conjectures., But of this hereafter. At this moment, you ina1y see avery splendid iron-gray charger, saddled, an& fastened~ in the shade, some twenty steps from the dwelling.' 'Lift" your eye to the piazza, and you behold the owner. 'A" finer-looking fellow lives not in the country. Tall,' ~elV' made, and muscular, he treads the piazza like a prince. The freedom of carriage which belongs to the gentlein~n in our forest country is inimitable, is not to be acquired by art, and 'is due to' the fact that 'they suffer from no laborious occupation, undergo no drudgei~y, 'and ~are~ subject to no confinement, which, in childhood, conti~aet' the shoulders into a stoop, depress the spirits, 'enf~eble the energies, and wofully impair the 'freedom and 'ele- gance of' the deportment. 'Constant exercise on foot and horseback, the fox hunt and the chase; these~ with other sylvan sports, do wonders for the pk~isique, the grace and the bearing of the country gentleman of the South. The ~ers6n before us is one of'the noblest spe-' cimens of his class. A frank and' handsome countenance, with a skin clear and inclining to the 'fl~rid'~ a' brig'lit, martial blue eye; a full' chin; thick, massive locks~ ~of dark brown hair, and lips 'that express a rare ~etness,' and only do not smile, sufficiently distinguish his~ peeu. liarities of face. His dress is, simple, after an ordinary fashion of the country, but is surprisingly neat and be- coming. A loose blouse, rather more after the Choctaw page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, F than the Parisian pattern, does not lessen the symmetry of his shape. His trousers are not so~ loose as to con~ ceal the fine muscular developments of his lower limbs; nor: does his loose negligee neckcloth, simply folded about the neck, prevent the display of a column which admirably sustains the intellectual and massive head which crowns it, and which we now behold uncovered. Booted and 'spurred, he appears ready-for a journey, walks the piazza with something of' impatience in his manner, and frequently stops to shade his eyes from the glare, as he strains them in exploring the distant high- way.. You see that 'he is~ young, scarcely twenty-two; eager in his impulses, restive under restraint, and better able to endure and struggle with the conflict than to wait for:it~ slow approaches'. Suddenly he starts. He turns to a call from within, and a matron lady appears at ~the entrance of the dwelling, and joins him in the, piazza. He tiu'ns to her with respect and fondness. She is~ his mother; a statelyy dame, with features like his own; -a manner at once easy and dignified'; an eye grave, 'but benevolent; and a voice whose slow, 'subdued accents' possess a rare sweetness not unmingled with command. * "'We need wait for Miles no longer, my son," was the remark of the old lady. "lie surely never meant to come to breakfast. He knows our hours perfectly; and knows, moreover, that 'we old people, who rise with the fowls, do 'not relish any unnecessary delay in the morning meal.". " Well, mother, have it in, though I certainly under~ stood John that he would be here to breakfast." "Most probably he did not understand himself." '" He is,' indeed, a stupid fellow. But, there he is. Ho! -John"--calling to the servant whom he sees cross~ ing the lawn in the direction of his liouse-~-" ho, John! what did. Miles tell you?" - "He tell me he will come, sa," "He say dis morning, when breakfast come. / TILE TENNESSI~1EAN's STORY. 29 "Ay, indeed! but whose breakfast; his or mine? Did lie say he would come to breakfast with me, or after he had eaten his own ?" "He no say." "Why did I send that fellow !" muttered the youth to himself as he 'passed into the breakfastroom. Let us folloW him. i~Jow nice 'are all the ai~rangement8 1 betraying the methodical and tidy hand of one-brought up in tJi~ old school. The cloth white as snow and neatly spread; the silver shining as brightly as if j~t from the burnish of the smith; and the toitt'~n8emi4~ denoting the vigilant care c~f a gOod' mistress, who- see8~ as well as orders, that her servants do their duty. single colored girl stands in 'waithig,' dressed- in' hlu~ homespun, with a Aean white apron. The aged lady herself wears an apron, that seems to indicate her own readiness to share in the labors of the household. ' And now for the breakfast. .A Georgia, indeed a Southern breakfast, differs in sundry respects from ours at the North, chiefly, however, in the' matter 'of breadstuffs. In this respect our habits are more simple, particularly in the cities. 'In the South, there is a variety; and these are valuable chiefly in proportion to their warmth. .llominy itself is a breadstuff; a 'dish that our mush~ but poorly represents. -It is seldom eatable out ofa Southern household. Then there are' wafiles, and rice cakes -and fritters, and other things of like description, making a variety at o~nce persuasive to 'the palate and n&t :'hurt~ ful to health. These were 'all in 'lavish array at the table of the widow Hammond, for such is the name of the excellent lady to whose 'breakfast board ~we are self..invited. The breadstuffs had their corresponding variety of meats. A dish of broiled partridges; a steak of venison, and a vase of boiled eggs, furnish an a~ple choice for a Spring breakfast, and take from us all motive to look farther. Coffee for her son, 'and tea for herself, constituted the beverage of the breakfast; and w~ are not unconscious that the platter of white fresh butter, that occupied~ a place in the centre of the table, 3* page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 80 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 81 i~ suggestive of a pitcher of foaming buttermilk that stands at the extremity. Why look further into the catalogue? For a while the parties ate in silence, or rather they did n6t eat; one of them, at least, seemed to need an appetizer. Ilandall Hammond took several things on his plate at the suggestion of his mother, but he merely tasted of them. The, partridge was sorely gashed at th~first stroke, but the morsel taken from its breast lay upon the fork unswallowed. The youth seemed more disposed to exercise his ingenuity in balancing his spoon upon the. edge of his cup; a feat which, having suc- ceeded in, he abandoned for the more difficult experi- ment of standing the egg upon its point, as if to solve the problem whioh Columbus submitted to the Spanish doctors. The mother watched with some anxiety these movements of her son. "You do not eat, Randall." "No," he said, "I have somehow no appetite;" and he pushed away his plate as he replied9 "You have eaten nothing,; shall I send you another cup of~coffee?", "Do so5 mother ;~ I am thirsty, though I cannot eat." The cup was replenished. The, mistress dispatches the servant~girl or~ a mission tJ the kitchen, and then, after a preliminary hem or two, she - addressed her son in accents of considerable gravity, though so, coupled with fondness as to declare the tendexb interest which she had,, in~her subject9 "My son, you well know the regret which I feel at your going to this hQrserace." ~' But IC must go, mother. ~' "Yes, I i4rlderstand that. You must go, as you l'~ave promised to do so, and I suppose it's quite unreasonable on my part to desire that you should not comply with what is customary among your assocki4es. I can be- lieve, also, that horseracing is a very different thing, nowadays, from what it was twenty years ago in Georgia." "0 yes, indeed; a very different thing !" "I hope so; I believe so! If I 'did not, 'Randall, nothing should persuade me to give my consent to your exposing yourself to its dreadful influences."~ "You need fear nothing on ray account,'mQther." "Ah! my son ;-that is being' quite too bold; persons~. who are thus' strong in their own belief are' always in danger. But, I trust, you have heard me too frequently on this subject; I trust you feel how deeply I should suffer, did I, suppose that'you could run a horse, or risk a dollar, in such a practice; to be misled by the per- suasions of others, or your own natural tendenciess" "But, why do you think I have any such tendencies, mother ?" "Why have you spent so large an amount on. these foreign horses ?" "For the sake of stock, mother. I have an eye to the merits and the beauties of the horse. I know his fine points. I love to look upon them. I know no spectacle more beautiful than a group of these beautiful creatures, wheeling and dashing over the lawn; and as a captain of cavalry, I must be well mounted myself.' Beyond this desire, I do not see that I ~have any natural tendencies that should occasion your fears." "These tendencies come from this very passion for horseflesh." "But with me~ mother, it is no passion." "Alas! my son, I know better; all passions begin very modestly. That you have the tendency is enough for, me, and, at the risk of giving you 'pain, I must repeatt what I have said before, that you inherit~ this 'passion from your most unhappy father." "'No more of that, mother, I entreat you." "Nay, iRandall, but there must he more~ of ft.~ It is needful'for your' safety that I should remind you that your father lost his life and fortune both by this hisane and.dangerous. passion. What remains to us of former wealth was ,happily secured by my fathers providence. We had else been destitute. You resemble your father page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] V U 82 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, greatly in most respects. You have his sanguine tern- perament; hi~ hopeful confidence in himself; his eager will; his lavish expenditure, and his passion for horses." "But, dear mother-2' "Restrained only, as I trust, my son, by the constant lessons of. your. mother." "And by the love I bear her." "I believe it, Randall; it is God's blessing that I do believe it; otherwise, this would b~ to me a moment of the dreariest hopelessness of, heart. Promise me, dear son, that y6u will neither run a horse; nor bet upon a horserace." "Promise, mother !" "'Nay, I ask no promise; I will only pray, Randall, that you will never for a moment forget how much the small remiiant' of your mother's life depends upon the heed you give to these lessons of her fears and sorrows. Let me not mourn the fate of an only son, as I must always mourn that of a husband." The youth passed his arms about her, and kissed her tenderly. They had both risen from the table, and they now approached the piazza together. "There is another subject, Randall, about which I wished to speak with you, but my heart is quite too full just now. I must keep it for another time. It relates to this young lady, Miss Foster." The youth colored deeply. The flush~ did not escape the penetrating eyes of' the mother. She did not seem to obserVe it, however, but continued with rare quietness of manner to remark: "They tell me that you are pleased with her." "Who tells you ?" "No matter. Enough, that I hear also that she is a maiden of singular levities, of bold, masculine~ habits." "0 mother! who could have told you this? What a scandalous story!" "What! has she not some singular habits ?" "Some slight eccentricities, perhaps; something in. thought' and manner more free and confident than is TIlE TENN~SSEEAN'S STORY. 88 common to the uneducated girls of the country', and. which they accordingly censure-but-" "Well, another time for this, my son. There oomes Henderson" The youth was not unwilling to waive the subject.' His eyes were eagerly fixed upon the highway,' where a horseman now came in sight. "Ay, there he is at last, riding like the high~sh6riff, as who but he! Should he want breakfast, now, mo- ther ?" "He can have it in a moment; but, unless I. am greatly mistaken, he has considered his wants of that sort some time ago." A few moments sufficed to determine the doubt. The new-com~r cantered rapidly down the road, and was soon within the inclosure. "Well, Randall, are you ready ?" he cried, as he alighted from his horse. The bridle was thrown to 3 servant, and Henderson ascended to the piazza, where he shook hands with mother and son. "Ready," said Hammond, "and have been this hour. What has kept you? Why did you' not come to break~ fast?" "For' the best of reasons. I overslept myself." "'Then you have breakfasted, Henderson ?" asked the old lady. "0 yes, ma'am. I wouldn't keep you waiting; though I sent word by John that 'I would take coffee with you." "And a pretty tale he made of it. We waited for you." "I'm sorry-" he began to apologize, but the old lady silenced him gracefully, and then took her de~ parture, leaving the young men together. "So, you overslept yourself, Miles ?" was the remark of Hammond. "Something singular for you. Where was you last night ?" The inquirer darted a swift but half~smiling glance: of page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] I 84 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, suspicion directly to the eye of the other. The answer was somewhat hesitatingly delivered. "Where was I'? Oh! at Mrs. Foster's." "Ah 1" was the significant exclamation of Hammond, and a pause ensued between the parties. The tone with whi~h the exclamation was uttered was subdued, the word seemed to escape the lips of the speaker involun- tarily, and a keen eye might have detected a slight contraction of the muscles of his brow.~' But this passed away in a single moment, and putting his arm within that of his guest, with a glance behind him to the breakfast-room, Randall Hammond led his companion down, the steps, and they walked away in silence to some distance in the park. L TIlE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 85 CHAPTER IT. THE FRIENDS. THE new-corner, whom we are already taught to know as Miles Henderson, was tall of size' and graceful of per- son. In these respects, he resembled hi~ companion; though it needed no second glance of the spectator to discover the superiority, in all thtit regards bearing and general manner, in the person and carriage of the latter. Henderson was a fine, sprightly, and rather sensible fellow, but scarcely so courtly, so well-bred, and welL. looking as Randall Hammond. Still, there were those by whom the former was preferred. 'He was more frank and less commanding, as a character; more' accessible, and accordingly more agreeable to the many, than the man of superior will and. general endowments. It does not need, however, that we should strike~ the balance, just at this time, between them. Such proceeding will serve liereafter. Enough for us, that the two are most excellent friends; true, whole-souled, and confiding; with neither doubt nor distrust of any' kind between them; ready to share their resources,' ~ind to peril life, if need be, in behalf of each other.~ And such had been their tenns of relationship from boyhood. They had few other associates to divide their sympathies or provoke jealousies between them. 'Both of them were the on were' e~ us widowed mothers; and both of them ~i respect to the wishes of their parents. They were not absolutely faultless, but 'very good fellows, as the ~world goes; the one being supposed to have a very decided will of his own; the' other of having a tendency to good-fellowship of every kind, without losing his equilibrium, in the license which good- page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 86 ~s ~oori AS A COMEDY: OR, fellowship among young men is supposed to engender. We may state, at the beginning, that, on the occasion of their present meeting,~ there was something more of shyness and reserve in their mutual hearing, cordial and frank as 'it really appeared, than had ever distinguished it before. The secret of this, of which each was duly conscious, will be shown as we proceed. They had got to some distance from the dwelling, when, somewhat abruptly, Randall resumed the conversation with an inquiry. "So you dined at Mrs. Foster's yesterday, Miles ?" "No. I got there in the afternoon. I went down to the village to see Ferguson~about that land business, and took the good lady in my way home." "'By going four miles out of the way," said the other, drily. "You're right, ~andall," answered the other frankly, while a slight flush tinged the cheek of the speaker. "You're 'right; but I reckon it's only what you'd have done yourself." To this nothing was answered. A moment's pause ensued, when Hammond resumed. "Was that foolish fellow, Barry, there ?" "No! not then; but I gathered that he had been, during the morning, from something that passed between Geraldine and her mother-" "Ah! What?" "Why, as far as I could guess, Geraldine had been rather sharp upon him, in some of her answers; and her mother was' quite displeased in consequence. She gave Geraldine a lecture as long as one of Brother Peterkin's, particularly when his dinner has been a good and comforting one; a~id Geraldine- "Mindc~d it quite as little as my roan horse does the snafile. But how often, Miles, you name her in the space of a sentence!"' "Name her! How often! Who ?" ~The response was stammeringly made. "Who, but Geraldine Foster? In a single half sen- THE TENNESSEBAN'S STORY. 87 tence, I think, you contrived to bring in her name at least half a dozen times." "Nay, Randall, you're joking. But once,~ 'pon my honor !" "Pawn nothing, or you lose. The offence is not hanging, unless agreeably. The name' is one to be repeated. It is a sweet and musical one." This was said good-humoredly, a slight smile lighten- ing pleasantly the otherwise grave face of the speaker. His companion discovered a something significant in the look and speech, was himself slightly confused, and con- cealed it in silence. Hammond quietly turned full upon him, and, laying his hand with affectionate emphasis upon his shoulder, thus addressed him "Look you, Miles, old fellow, there is one small ki~ot between us which remains to be untied." "Knot between us, Randall ?" "Yes; and the sooner we take it between our fingers, the more certain are we to escape the necessity of put- ting our teeth to it. We are here by ourselves, and a few moments more-"' "But, have we time, Randall ?" "Time! Yes; we neither of us care much for the race; we shall lose bu~ little." "But little, in truth. The horses I hear of are only common ones. There is 'Vose's gray, pretty good a~t a quarter; and Biggar's young filly out of 'May Queen;' and the old horse '1~ob,' of Joe Balob, which you know was never of much. account; and Barry, I understand, means to run his 'Fair Geraldine,' of which he brags so much; and-" "Enough of your catalogue," said the othei, with a smile: "I perhaps know quite as much as yourself with regard to the horses likely to be upon the ground; for Tom Nettles was with me yesterday, and he has all the news. The race, he agrees, will be no great shakes, so that, if we lose some of it, we lose nothing-~" "Yes, but Randall, Geraldine will be there early, and without any male attendance. In fact, I promised her '4 page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, to be on the ground at the beginning, in order to let her know all about the horses. She is full of it, and is prepared to bet a world of gloves, and purses, and handkerchiefs. She expects you there early also. She told me, indeed, that you had promised' her-" "Ah! she remembered it, did she?-well 1" after a moment's pause; "we 'shall still be there in season,; what I have to say won't take many minutes. The chief difficulty was to get up the resolution to say it at all, Miles." "The resolution, Randall? Why,' what can it be ?" "Can't you guess ?" replied the other, fixing his eyes 'keenly upon those of hi~ companion. The orbs of the latter sunk beneath the scrutiny. 2' I see that yoi~ know. Let us sit here, Miles." They were now beneath a magnificent' cluster of oaks, covering five or more acres of ground, and looking forth, from a noble eminence, on lawn 'and field, and plain, "and high road, that stretched away below. Sylvan seats, manufactured rudely, but not without a native ingenuity, ont of wands of hickory and elm, into Gothi4~ and fantastic forms, were conveniently distributed for the lounge, while great streamers of di'ooping gray moss festooned the outstretching arms of the several trees with a drapery not less appropriate than natural. Hammond pointed his companion to one of these seats, while he took another close beside him. An incon- venient pause followed ~f a few moments, which was finally broken by the strong will of the former, which was of that fearless and' frank character that could soon shake itself free of all feelings of social awkward- ness when resolved on the performance of a duty. His hand again rested kindly on the shoulders of Hender- son, as, looking him affectionately .in the face, he thus proceeded to unfold the matter which troubled him. "Miles, old fellow, it won't do, after so many years of close and brotherly communion; years when 'we were all in all to each other, and seemed to live for nobody THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 89 beside; I say, it won't do for us now to suffer any mis- trust or misui~derstanding.to grow up between us." "Surely not, Randall !-I wouldn't for the world !~- But wha1~ mistrust--'what misunderstanding ?" "Hear me, Miles; mistrusts and misunderstandings grow very naturally and very silently between friends from the slightest beginnings. There's no seeing them at first, unless, the heai~t is watchful of itself, and even then. they are apt to be let alone to grow apace, as all ill weeds do, unless the heart is properly jealous of itsdf. Now, it may be that my heart is equally mistaken in its suspicions of itself and of yours-" " Of miiie, Randall ?" "Yes! I have reason to believe that there has been a slight falling off between us ever since Geraldine Foster returned to the neighborhood." "Randall!" said the other, reproachfully. "It is even so, Miles; but it must not be so an~ longer. ,For this reason, I have determined to speak out plainly before the weed grows too strong for the plough- share. We were friends from boyhood until now, and your friendship has been, and I trust will continue to be, quite as precious to me as~ any love of woman. We must continue to be friends, Miles, even, though we should both of us love Geraldine Foster." The other clasped hi~ hands together, as if with a stidden anguish. "Ah, Randall !-J did fear it; 'I did !" "It is unfortunate, Miles, that such is the case, but it is no longer to' be feared, and it need not be fatal to our friendship. I can love Geraldine with all the passion of a Georgian's heart; but, Miles, I can love you too, and I will love you to the last. To be sure of this, we have only to understand each other. There must be no doubts, no 'mistrusts,. no suspicions between us. You love her; you will seek her; you will try to win her love if you can; and for this I shall afford you every proper opportunity, not hesitating to avail myself of the chances that seem to encourage me. Thus far, we a page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, TUE TE~NE8SEEAN's 8TORY. 41. have both sought her without interference of each other. We will continue to do so. It is the instinct of a true friendship which has compelled this forbearance. I frankly admit to you that, as yet, she has given me no proofs that she cares one straw for me more than for another. If you can say that you have been more fortunate, speak it out, Miles, like a man, and I pursue her no longer; I leave the field entirely to yourself." "You are a noble fellow, Randall, and deserve, the girl; which I don't. I could no more have mustered the heart to talk of it to you, as you have just done to me, than I could have found wings to fly; yet I felt that that was the only way. I do love her, as you say; but I must own that, like yourself, I have had* no encouragement. But no more does she seem to show favor to others. She has several suitors, you know ?" "Yes! but none, I think, that either of us has need to fear. You, at least, are the only person whose chances disquiet me. She has the sense to perceive your worth-to respect you-" "I don't know that," was the somewhat sullen an- swer, with a discontented shake of the head ;~ "she treats me mighty scurvily, at times. You know her way!" "Yes; but I know it is her way, which shows itself to all others as it shows itself to you, though each person naturally thinks himself the worst treated of all. She is a tyrant,' knows her power, and is but too fond of abusing it; but she is a noble creature, neyer- theless, with all her faults." "A beautiful creature, Randall !" "I don't speak so much of her beauty, Miles, though, as you say, she is very beautiful; but she is a genuine creature. $he is wrong frequently, ana says and does wilful and mischievous things; but I do not think she has any cunning, which I look upon as fatal to ~ll the beauty that woman could possess. She' speaks, and thinks, and feels, very much as if a feeling and honest heart was in her bosom, which had not yet been tortured out of shape and nature by the tricks of society and the teachings of other -women. It is this for which I love her chiefly, and which reconc4es me to so much of her eccentricilies and wilfulness. I suppose she treats you only as she treats me and all others. The truth is~ she not only feels her power, and is rash because of her own impetuous spirit, but she has learned to distrust the professions and attentions of gentlemen. She has met with flatteries ,and flatterers at Savannah and Charleston, and has learned .perhap~ to despise them, not because she did not like attention and homage, but that she required them to be interesting as well as supplant. It is the insipidity of beaux, rather than their devotion, that her bold min~I, which resents the commonplace, has learned to distrust and to contemn. Fortunately, you and I are no' beaux, Miles; but she has yet to discover what we are. That she will find out, if time be allowed her, I make no question. I confide in her sincerity of mind; in what seems the very wilfulness of her heart; in its warmth, its impulse, and the shrewd good sense, which is quite as apparent to me in her conduct as her eccentricities." "Ah! Randall, you need to fear nothing," 'was the somewhat responding answer of the other; "I'm think- ing she already else." y sees you with kinder eyes than anybody "Scarcely, Miles; for I am not taking the course to win her affections suddenly. I confess to some policy in this respect. She would rate me with the rest, if I sought her like the rest. I must approach her as & man, and not as a schoolboy." "You were always a man, Randall, even when a schoolboy." "I'm not sure, Miles, that you pay me any compli- ment in this opinion. My consolation is that it is not just. Your mannish schoolboys are usually destroyed by their precocity. Still, if I can persuade Geraldine that I am a man now- "You will-you will !" said the other, with a sigh. 4* 40 41 page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] 42 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY OR, TILE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 4g "Nay, nay, Miles; I must have none of this de- spondency. You must pursue your chase with as much hope and ardor as decision. As I have said already, I am not taking the usual course for success, and there is one evil influence particularly at work against me." "What is that?" "iler stepmother's dislike to me, which flows natu- rally from the slights which she complains of at the hands of my mother. My mother, who comes from an old stock, and a very proud one, dislikes the obtrusive and bad manners of Mrs. Foster. It is not that she is of humble origin, but that she is pert and presuming, and has made several efforts, without success, to find her way to my mother's intimacy. Besides, Mrs. Foster evidently inclines to this little fellow, Barry, who treats her with a degree of deference which amounts to syco- phancy, and who, besides, has the prospect of much greater wealth than either of us could possibly hope to acquire. The stepmother must have succeeded before this, had it not been for the native good sense and the strong will of Geraldine. Yet she may at last-" "Who, Geraldine? Never! She despises Barry." "Very likely; indeed, I know she must; but that don't materially impair his chances, should circumstances fibvor him. Many a passionate woman, taken in the lucky moment, has married the object of her loathing. This is woman's weakness. But we needn't linger in, this discussion. I have made a clean breast of it. You have done the same. What next? Why, that we should pursue our objects, Miles, as we have always pursued them, with candor, with mutual sincerity and love. Fair play between us will always keep us friends, let who will get the lady." The cordial gripe of their hands which followed was as an oath between them. Much more was said, which it does not concern us to repeat. A few n~oments found them mounted, both on blooded steeds of the best breeds in the country, and on their way to the country race-course, not yet famous in the sporting calendar, which was honored with the name of Hillabee, after an ancient tribe of Indians, all of whom are extinct. 42 page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 45 44 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, CHAPTER III. IIILIJABEE RACE-COURSE. TN the more thinly settled regions of the South and West, a thousand sports are resorted to, to compensate the want of society, and to supply equivalent pleasures for those of a great city. On public days, the villages, or hamlets rather, are always crowded with people. The County Court brings together hundreds who rejoice that they have no business within its precincts; while on days of sheriff and public sales, other hundreds appear within sight of the auctioneer's hammer, who have neither meanS nor wish to buy. Muster-day calls forth its hosts in addition to those who come for training; and Charity, availing herself of the popular need, opens her frequent fairs for philanthropic purposes, relying on the universal desire for society to persuade into use- less expenditure those whom it would not be easy to tempt to a benevolence for its own sake. Saturday, in these regions, is almost as much a holiday with the full-grown farmer as it is with the schoolboy, ~nd usually takes him to the nearest place of gathering, which is usually a grocery, under the pretence of laying in the supplies for the week; but really with the no less human motive of procuring ~those, social excitements which do flGt always result in the elevation of his humanity. Here, he rewards the patient labor of five days at the plough with potations which exhaust much more cer- tainly than any labor. He calls for his quart of whiskey, which he shares with comrades, who find similar supplies, and, towards evening, he may be seen trending homewards, balancing himself with no little difficulty upon his steed, with a jug well filled, hanging in one end of a sack across his saddle, the other end being stored with such supplies as will soothe the appre- hended anger of his spouse. It is not infrequently the case that, overtasking his capacity, he imbibes too many potations for his equestrianship, and man, jug, and saddle find their way into ditch or thicket, while the unincuinbered horse gradually crops his way home. This, fortunately, is but an occasional history now. There wasa time when it was much more frequent, and associated with other practices-.the brutal scuffle, the vindictive fight, the blasphemous language, which left our hopeful humanity but little of which it could really boast. Happily, this period is one of which the memory grows daily more and more imperfect. The sports of the people of the South and West, even along the border settlements, are of a more grateful character. The horserace is that which more nearly resembles those of the past, since it necessarily brings into most decided activity the animal tendencies of the people. It is here that the great masses prove their affinity with the an- cient Saxon family of Bull!' The picnic and the fishing- party will suffice for girls and boys in the season of romance, which is one simply of mutual confidence and hope; but the turf for all parties, at all seasons. It is* here that all meet as upon a common ground, and amidst a thousand inequalities of wealth and life, sho~w and condition; no one thinks so much or so meanly of him- self as to be absent. Few think of themselves at all, at such a period. The horserace commends itself to the great body of the forest population more than any other amusement. It i~ an image, in some degree, of war. It appeals particularly to a people scarcely one of whom fails to keep, and not one of whom is une~iual to the most excellent management, of a horse. Commend us, accordingly, to the Southern turf. Here, the sport is not an affectation. It is enjoyed with a zest. Here life and nature speak out in all their varieties of cha- racter. The dullest peasant looks animation as the sleek courses wind beneath his sight. His eye becomes bright 9 page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] TUE ~TENI~1E55EEAN'8 STORY. 47 46 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, and knowing. He looks at head, heels, and neck, with the eye of a connoisseur. He feels the breast and shoulders knowingly. He adopts his favorite, and then shouts his preference in defiance to all corners. He is ready with or for a banter. He is prepared to stake his earnings of a year upon his judgment. His greasy pocketbook lies ready in his grasp. His bales of cotton are'. folded up in tens, and twenties, and' hundreds, wait- ing deliverance or companions in bondage. He is no longer a person of drooping and grave aspect, drowsily going forward as if 'without hope or purpose. He is no~w allj life, eager for opposition, and confident of suc- cess. Nor is it the' inferior taste and understanding only to which the announcement holds forth temptation. Edttcation here is not construed to assume the total sub- jection of -the animal nature, and the elevation of the moral at the expense and sacrifice of the passions. The excitement which arises from the contemplation of the bold, the fleet, the strong and energetic, is supposed to be clearly consistent, within certain limits, with the laws of refinement and civilization; and the young dam- sel, who will prattle sentiment with you by the hour, quoting freely and understandingly from the pages of Moore and Wordsworth, yet bounds at the tap of the drum which warns the courser to depart, and glows at the progress of the contending floods; her soul as much excited' at what she sees as the young dragoon for the first time jingling his spurs in the heady tempest of the fight. But a glimpse at the race-course of Hillabee itself will afford us a much better idea of the scene, as it ordinarily appears, than we' could possibly convey by any process of generalization. The ground is chosen in ~ pine barren, which, being entirely level, and free from ridge or inequality for a space of several miles, z'enders it siiitably firm and hard for the required pur- pose. The trees are cleared aWay, leaving a spacious amphitheatre something more than a mile in circumfer- ence. 'Within this space 'the course is laid out in a circle, and designated by ditches running parallel, with a track of eighty feet between them. The 'original forests surround the whole; a 'deep green girdle of mas- sive pines, at whose feet have sprung up, ~t~king the place of those which have been ~radie~ted from the outer edges of the course, a narrow belt, of scrubby oaks. Among these, you see numerous carts ~and wagons. These contain supplies of food and liquor. Here are ginger-cakes and cider, of domestic mangfa~ture. Here are cold baked meats in abundance, ham and "chicken fixings," mutton and pork, spread upon long tables of rough plank, and waiting for customers. On one~hand, you see rising 't~he smokes of a 6ar6acue; a steer is about to be roasted entire above a huge pit, over which, by meaiis of a stake, he hangs suspended. Steed8 arp fastened in every thicket, and groups of saddles lie beneath every tree. Their owners are already scattered about the turf, while hundreds of negroes are ready, within and withoutthe circle, pushing forward wherever there is promise of novelty, and anxious to emulate their betters in perilling every sixpence in their possession on the legs of their several favorites. There 'is a yet greater attraction for these in the huge whjte tent, spread at one extremity of the area; over which hang, in greasy and tattooed folds, the great stripes and stars of the nation. The attraction here is a novelty. It is a company of circus-riders. Their steeds, gayly capa- risoned, have already gone in clamorous' procession over the course to the sound of music; 'a thousand negroes have followed at their heels. Their exercises begin at the closing of the races, which cannot possibly taker place before the afternoon. The internal to these ~is one of the most trying anxiety; to be soothed in part only by the events of the race. For this, the prepara- tions are actively in progress. A glance at the opposite extremity of the ring, where the "judges have a rude but elevated structure, not unlike a Chinese pagoda, shows us a handsome 'sprinkling of other visitors, on horse and foot. Many of these have a deeper interest 46 page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, TILE. TENNESSEEAN'$ STORY. 49 in the progress of the day than arises from simple curiosity. There are the sportsmen, the jockeys, the owners of horses, their admirers, riders, and those who, in some way, look to the future with some selfish con.. sideration. They dart about in' large survey, or crowd in groups around some favorite steed or speaker. There, you may see a dozen around the drum, whose office it is to give the signal which sets horse and man in motion; and not far distant, you may behold the amateur fifer tha~t perambulates merrily' by himself, discoursing through his instrument, somewhat imperfectly, of Robin Adair and Roslyn Castle. Others, again, are more busily and officially'employed. They. are weighing steed and rider, measuri~ig the track, taking down bets and entries, and, altogether, looking and behaving as if the next movement of the great globe itself dep~bnded upon the wise disposition which that moment should make of their affairs. Looking I3eyond this circle, and the prospect is equally encouraging. The eye naturally falls first upon the imposing cortege of the higher classes. Here you per- ceive, in coach, carriage, barouche,' and buggy, that the upper ten thousand are tacitly permitted by the multi- tude to form a little community to themselves. The vehicles crowd together, as if in sympathy, the carriage- ~poles interlacing; the horses withdrawn and fastened in the shade of neighboring thickets. Here, seated in their carriages, appear the ladies, as various in their ages as in their separate style of beauty. They form close compact knots, or circles, according ~o the degrees of intimacy between them, and jealously force out all intruders ; 'leaving such avenues only as will permit the approach on horseback of their several attendants and gallants. Showily and richly dressed, and, surrounded by tljese dashing gentry of the other sex, all well mounted and eager to show' their horsemanship, they give to the scene a gayety and brilliance which wonderfull$r add to its life and animation. Their gallants whirl around them with anxious attentions; now fly off to ascertain the course &f events, and now dash ~back, at full speed, to report progress. They describe and designate the horses to the, ,~elighted fair ones, direct them in their ~ choice of favorites, and Jose to them glove and ribbon with the happiest gallantries. You i~ay. note th~ em~ blems and badges upon each fair bosom; these. are white and pink, and red and green; they designate the colors~ of the selecte~t horses; 'and beauty, in this way, does not feel mortified at being made tributary to the 13 east. The numerous multitude, if less attractive in~ their exhibitions, are much more various and not less imposing. A. glance to the right coi~fines the eye to a crowd in the midst of which a wagon appears~ sure high ed by a r~d streamer which waves tWenty feet froni the peak of a pine sapling. The' shaft is rigidly held in its perpendicular by the. embrace of a group of barrels, from one of which the more abstemious may obtain a draught of domestic, cider or' switchel; while from another, the stronger head imbibes his mo~ dicum of whiskey or apple brandy; a poor Western apology for Irish poteen, which, after the first season, our Patrick learns to swallow with something of the relish with which he smacked his lips upon the brown jug in his' native island. Other wagons and flags appear~ each in the nn~rgin of the thickets, sheltered by .it~. shade, yet not hidden from the eyes of the thirsty and hungi~y citizen. They divid~ themselves, according to their experience, between the several wagons; and it's- "Ha, Uncle Billy, and what 'have you got~ for a dry throat to-day ?" Or-. "Thar you ar', Daddy Nathan, as bright as a bead of brandy, always bringing something for a' tharsty. sin~ ner !" And Uncle Dilly responds with a smile: "Yes, Joel, my son,, and it's J tha1~s never too olil for the service ;"-or, Daddy Nathan shouts back, with the voice of a "blood-o'nouns," "And what would you hey', you great jughelly with a double muzzle? Ain't I here for the. saving of such miserable ainn~rs as you, that~ never think you're half page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] TH'E.~TE~K~,S$EEAN'S ~TOUY. 50 A~ GOOD 'AS A COMEDY: OR, 51 full 'till you're fairly running oyer' and can't run tio more. ~ide up, and see if you can find the way to your own swallow. 'Here's 'the stuff tihatil i~iake you~ open yQur mouth,.' though 'your' 'eyes never seed it; as a hungry pike jumps up for~the bait, jest because his nose tells him it's sartainly out 's~iiiewhar' in' the~ pond."' Then comes the rugged wit' in; answer, fashioned after ,the same model; a mild, good-'hu~6red banter; ending'with a summons to' the boys, to "come up to the rack," and try the peach or apple 'brandy, the whiskey or the 'cider, each according to his taste, of the uncle or the daddy. "Whose treat ?" demands 'two or three in the same breath. "Who's~but Joel Norris's?" or Pete Withers's, or Ben Climes's, or some other well-known boy.of the masses, whom, they have' learned' to reverence for that equal freedom of" hand which enables thein~ with just the same readiness, to bestow buffet or beverage, acoord- ing to the 'mood of the moment, or the character 'of the provocation' given. Atici thus the groups form; and the meeting, leads 'to the drinking; the drinking to the bet- ting; and they pait, or group themselves together, busy, from the moment in which they appear upon 'the add; much more earnest in the pursuit of fun than in the prosecution of their daily tasks. He 'must be of difficult taste, indeed, whom such a theatre will fail to satisfy. Yonder, upon the grass, sit a cluster of rustic damsels. 'They are only spreading their baskets of cakes, gunjas~ as they call 'them, and boiling huge vessels of 'coffee, Beyond them, at a little distance, a~pc'ar others of the sisterhood, busy in preparing their tables With, plate; knife, and fork. To- wards noon you will see them smoking with hot dishes, and well surrounded by hungry gamesters.' Cards and dice already begin to 'interest other parties, thai 'crouch away i~ remoter places along the skirts of the wood; and' the more ~personal matters of "poker" and "old siedge"'rensler many an ardent spirit momentarily in- different to. the a~pproa~,hing. horserace, upon which he has no sixpence left to stake. You will see, him ~stai~t to his feet: as the shouts of the crowd without, and the rush of the horses, announce ~the approach of the contending steeds; but 8 glance suffices ~ and, satisfied that he neither wins nor ~1oses by the event, he sinks down upon the turf or log, and renews the gam~ of "brag" with fresh noncl~aldnce and audacity. Look, now~ at the ring forming within the wood, where an eager ci~'cle. encourage two rivals to a stand-up wrestle. .They are stripped to the buff; the br~ad br~as~, and full, rigid muscle, promising a noble struggle. They approach with equal deliberation and gob4-humor, and the hug is fairly taken.. They pause, and each lifts the other from his feet.; and now they bend to it and wave to and fro,' like tail saplings~ shaken adversely by eapri- cious winds; now yield, now recover; a stein,' close issue, very doubtful to the bystanders, who~ soon for~ getting their individuality, unconsciously follow the wrestlers in all their contortions, and, before they know where they are, glide frito the ring and into the, em- brace of welhniatched. opponents, with ~w'hom they tug and tumble about without a single word of preliminary. In the shade of yonder avenue~ you see a couple at- 'tended by their admiring followers, coats and shoes cast off, hands clasped, and about to dart forward in a foot- race of a hundred yards. Beyond them, still 'farther in the 'wood, you are called upon to witness, a trial of skill between the crack rifles of two adjoining counties, of whom their respective friends have been boasting for several seasons. They have now, for the~ first time, been brought together. A race-turf, like that of lila- bee, will assemble the best fellows of several counties upon extra~rd~inary occasions. They have planted a dollar at eighty yards. Could a shilling be seen ~t that distance; the smaller coin had been preferred And thus the field is laid off and divided. Thus the parties group themselves throughout the day, except when the race is of peculiar interest, when all ~rnall 50 41 page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 52 AS 'GOODAS' A COMEDY: OR, T~E~Ti~TXS$EEAN'5 0~ORY. '53 matters are necessarily merged in', the one result. But jinany' Wander about nearly Ltless,' who depend for -their. pleasures rather 'upon the sports of others, than because of any direct participation with them. 'These sway to and fro at every summons that promises no- velty or excitement. NQW, there are sounds of strife -and clamor, that declare a 'fight; -a~nd they hurry with open-mouthed delight t~ the. scene of action. Now, ~i barrel-of whiskey rolls from 'the Wagon, and' the owner, attended by the yells of~ delighted circle, prances and rolls' over it to'~ his own 'co~ifusion.- Now ~a table of plank yields l~eneath the elbows of the guests, and the bac~ii and the pans go over with the conipany in'to the sand'; and:now an ill'.trai'ned 'h~se bolt'sfrom th~-track, and scatters the clustering group' of terrified spectators, compelling them - te a use of Their heels not l~ss eccen- trii~ -than his own. -So much for the -general aspect' of The race-course at Hillabee on the memorable day in question. But it is high time -that we should -be more particular, and concentrate ~ur regards upon those per- 'sonages in~ whom our reader is expected to take the deepest interest. CHAPTER IV. FLATS A~D SHARPS. ' ' - A RACE~OOURSE has its mi~sic; at all events, we are now among the fiats, and-sh~rps.~ Here you see, on a small scale, some of those characters who, on a more extended-' field, ~nd with better training, mi~h~ ~beco~e famous financiers, or equally famous diplomatists. Here you may encounter some ingloripus iRothsehild, and wit- ness instances- of petty dexterity in ~oIicy which might honor Metternich. ]I~ook you now, for example, at the person who approaches us. His shabby.. extefior and lounging manner woula hardly fix your atten~iQn,. unless' you were first assured that there was ~a meaniiig - under it; mark him closely, and you wifl .discov~r a certain significance in his eye and searing which shows that he has his object.'- He is not the stolid indifferent that he seem~ t~'the casual observer. ' His eye, shrouding - bis ghrno~ ~ her ~rw~y under the~ hea~-v~ pentlwu~ Qfl- hi0 bushy'brows, is that of the hawk, as, wheeling aloft, he casts sidelong glances upon the covey 'of partridge that crouch along the bramble thicket. His quiet, cool,-and easy carriage; the half smile that plays about his mouth, while his face presents a dull', unmeaning gravity; his nianner, at once listless and~-observant;. his evident ac- quaintance 'with everything. and everybody; and the fa,~t that, 'while' he- seems-to seek nobody, he' is ~e1dom himself without a follower; all- declare a charaete~' and talent of his own. Butt wha~t sort of talent? The scene in which he appears so' entirely at home, and. the costume which he wears, present us with ~a clue to his secret. He is one of the -heroes of 4he, turf.: ~'TJiis, though on a~ ~omeWhat humble scale, is 'the sooner of -his 5* 58 52 , / page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 64 As ooo~ ~AS A O0M~DY: OR, victo4es. He knows every race-course and horse of heels in Georgia; knows every jockey, and his dimen- si~ns~.; and, a well-knowh sharp himself, his constant study is to extend Ibis acquaintance among the flats, who are too numerous in every country to he so easily canvassed. i1i~ province"is, particularly, horseflesh. l~IIe knows clean heels, at a glance. He reads the speed of an animal in his eye, and its bottom in its quarters; aiid. 1~nows th6 art.,~ as well as any man, of ~o'disg~mi~ing a horse as to deceive the'~eyes 'of other judges. This is exclt~sive1y his world. his library. ~s the stables'; his place of wQr~hip is the raee~course ;~ his p~ayer-b6ok,;Ehe litde dirty envelop of loosely~ folded sheets, rudely stitched together, in which he notes his bets, and records his obligations. His costun~e speaks, however, for n~o- thing of his method, though it sufficiently declares hi~ character9 ]21is1 trousers are loose; hang about his hips, without' suspenders, something like a~ sailor's; and are occasionally jerked up for the purpose of' a' brief inter- view with the short (and open vest that ha~igs" somewhat distantly above;~ the legs are thrust 'into hi~ booPtops, which are themselves woefully in need of covering, torn at the sides, and crushed down 'upon the ankles; His hunting-shirt has seen like service; the fringe is dila1pi- dated, the cape 'half~ torn away. "His cap, which rests jauntily on one side ~of his head, has its own fractures; the peak~d'k'flapping,~ with 'a constant threat of de- parture, over his left eyes 'The vest flies wide, in con- sequence of the. entire absence of 'its bu~tto~ms. His breast? is partly bare; from a like condition~ of his shirt- bosom; and 'the greasy black kerc'hisf, which is wm~ap- ped about his neck like a~ rope; with the ends alh~ost hanging to his. middle, has suffered the shirt-collar, on otte side; to escape entirely from its folds. You would sup j~ose him the poorest devil on~ the ground. But that is hmspollicy. lie is a chevalier d'imdustri~. if 16 lives by his Wits; but these 'are so much capital; they com- ma~d capitaL 'Note'~hi~xim, where. ~he goes, and, you ~see that he' is still foll6~ed thy' another, who~e' 'exte~'nal8 'axe TItE TENNESSJ~A~'S STORY. 5 quite unlike his own. 'This 'is' a "'tall, good4ooking stranger, from another county; well' dresed,..-.~r~ther too much so,-~-and with quite a fas~l~ionabl.e manner. He finds the capital, while his, pilot finds' vhe"wi'~:'~' '~Still,, they do not seem to work together.' The 'stranger does not too closely follow on~ the heels of his associate~~ He suffers him to keep ahead, and somewhat' distant, bitt never loses him from sight. He is simply conve~ieut' when the fish is 'to 'be ~taket~, and suffers the'iother to proceed after his 'pwn'~ designs without 'inPr ption 6r communication. Let us follow, 4or a space, our first acquaintance. How quietly band successfully he makes his way among the crowd; without any~ effoi~t at doim~ig the agreeable, he is yet everywhere received as a favorite. lie has a good-humored speech for all, and khows just the subject which ap~eal~ most' directly to the fancies or the feelings of' each.' He is, in fact, a'nobl0~nan, from whom more pretentious persons 'of this order might well receive 'a few lessons.' ' , "Well, 'Burg," he says' to one, whose ear' he 'first' tickles with the end of the whip' Which ho ~carries, and who tui~ns only at the voice of the speaker~ "so 'Betsey Wheeler' died 'of the staggers?" ' Ah! Ned;' yes, j~Sh'e did,' poor thing, sh~ did t" ~ood~ hecls.had"'IBetsey' for a 'quarter stretch. That was a most beautiful run she 'made' with Lathams 'Bus- zard.' ". "Worn't it, Ned ?'~ responded the man addressed~ with a delighted expression of coiumtenance,?as. he clasped' the hand' of 'the new-coiner. " AhI she was a~ oritte~. My darter hadn't got over~the I\os5 of the~inar' yet." "She was a mare'!" was the emphatic reply of Ned. "She hadn't left many with cleaner heels ~behind her, Burg." The latter mis 'greatly flattered. "Ah, Ned," said he, "you're the' man to know when a horse is a horse!" "You've got~herfilly?" "Sold' her to O&ptain Barry." / page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] TILE TE~1NESSEEAW'~ $TOUY. A$ GOOD' AS 'A QO~EDt OR, "AL I ~ou shouldn't have done so. Is he here t&day-B&rry ?'~' "Y~s, 'I 'rec~oU." 4~~Ha8 he the. filly yet "Yes~ th& he has;' and will run her,' too; for lie counts her about as good flesh for a brush as any four- year old in the eotinty." "If she's like her darn, Burg, 'she 'can't help it I" "As like' as two peas froiii the~ samO hull; only, I'm "thinking, she has a Ii~t4e~m9re 'bone tkan 'Betsey.'" "So much the better. 'That's where 'Il3etsey' failed." 'No mere wa~ said betweenthe parties. Our acquaint- axice passed on: the next moment his follower came, up with him, sufficiently close to ~at~h the whispered sen- "'I 'pnt a spoke in there that'll help. 'to make the wheel.' Barry's a 'fool! aiid~ Burg will tell him every~ thing I"~e said." The other falls back, and our jockey pursues his way, until, stooping short, he applies hi8 Whip, with a gentle out, to the shins of a person; who, leaning against a ~aplin~, betrays but little interest ~n what passes.. He ~turii5 gently round at the equivocal salutation, and, as he enoonuters the feapireS of the assailant, his words ~it~d looka ~of defiance give place to those of banter, and good-humor. "Halloo,. there,. monkey! ain't you afeard of that tail of your'n~ gettir~g inAhe wolf-trap ?" "No Jake; for I know you hain't got '~tlw teeth to, 'raise the. 'skin of that varnuii~t.' "Hain't' I, then? Just .you try it, them with an@her sort of4ook in your face, and see if 'I ain't a ~eeIer." '"~ Will 'you "Won"t'I, then 'C' "Jake, my boy, I'ye come here to-day to strip the ~kji'i~ff y~u altogether." ' "You! Tain'tin your skin to do jt, Ned." "'Yes, or there's no snaked. I'm herO with the best nag at a heat'that ever was seed in IliliabeeP "Oh, 'shut up! Where's~the cow ?" "She's out in' the bushes; I'll show her, when~ the time comes.' They call her 'Graystreak ;' and The 'does go it 'like liglitning. "'Now, didn't I hearcfrom some old buzzard that never 'found out the value in a horse until he come to b~ carrion, that Lazy Jake Fisher 1iad~some- thing 'of anag, With~ th#e~ legs, or more'?'.' "~idn 't you hear'?' Yes, thaPyou ,did~'Ned Ramsey; and there the 'crifter. 'stands; ~ 'Crazy Kate,' they call her'; but she does her' miming 'sensible. Thei~e's n6 crazy 'in that. 'She"s' the mare to~ ~trike your "'Gray~ streak'. all in a heap, and take,' the shine out' of-her, or any animal you ev~er crossed." ' "What !" 'said the other, following the dire~tjon, and with the most contemptuous ouri of' the lip, and wave of the uplifted Whip., "What! 'you don't mean that poor old bay, yonder,' that looks a~ if she hadn't shed. hair, or tasted corn, since' the beginning ,of the Seminole war'? Why, Jake,' the poor beast looks more like lying down on 'her' last legs, an&begging 'a judgment' uj~on her master. You've starved 'hei', Jake; I reckon; and she only keeps on her' 'legs by 'the help of herhalter. 'Just you~' let down the crifters' .head~ now, 'and' all natiir'- couldn't keep her: up till you'd half curried" her. "Say no niorezNed, till the 'run's over..'' We always kno~'d you was a 'nice p&son' to ~ay hasty 'tIain~ 1of other men's cattle.'~ If" Crazy Kate' can't stand, 4's because she 'prefers to run. But we'll go and look at this 'Gray~treak' of youn, and I'll? tell y~ou, when I set ~ on her, what w~"ll' be doing I didi~'t'kxiow you had 'such a horse. Wl~en did you get her, and wh~r's she from 'C' "She cones fr6m Mississippi. I 'traded for her-with 'a man 'named Myers, that brought her ou&' jflut 'she's to pay for" herself, yft; a~id that's one' reason 'why I'm greedy for Hillabee~ "So get ready to shell out li~t~d- some." ' "Yes~ empty the chist, Jake!. Go your death on' the bay mar'; old fellow.' I don't 'reckon' 'she'Jl 'find her N page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 AS ~OOD AS A 'C0~DY: OR; TUF TE~~SSE~AN'S ST0'X~Y. match' on this ground to-day."' 'So cried one of this neighbors. "I reckon y6w think' yourself a~ jwdge of horseflesh, ,Owen~ ?"' piietly said"~ed 'Ramsey. "I reckon, then; I do.,, I ought, by this time !" was the answer." '"Well'! if a' man's judgment's worth. anything, it's worth whatA~he's got in his' pocket." "Guess it "is ;'; and 1i'm willingig to come' down a trifle on Jake's bay mar'; though 12 never seed your critter." "'That's coming out, like a man: I3ut you shall see "On 'sight, on seen, same to me. I'll go 'all I've ,got on tihe bay, whether~or no I" "'That's right! into' him, 'Oharley Owens. 'He's a sueI~"' cried one of the bystanders. ""'-He'll dive, 'if you' shoot,"" said another. '~ A suck Yes! that's it;" respondedd Ned Ramsey, very'coolly "Ready"f~r any' Iait, boys, with a swallow that' 'ne'vei refuses. P11 dive ~oo,- that's cla'r; but you may' let dr~e first, and;1'll carry off your load if I can. Load for buck, if you' please. 'The lai~ger the shOt, the .better~' IJere~s '~G-raystreak' agin 'Orazy Kate,' 6r agrn the geld. Who 'cares ~, 'The nag's got to be paid' for. fl~ere'~ steam agin wind! I'm wanting 'money mightily. 'Who'Th sweat' for ~tlie sake' of charity? 'Here he stands; 't~e,'AI~eorgy"~ railroad' agin;" - besides a line 'of stages. Wh~r'~ tlj~' passengers ~" ' "Into 'b-im, Oharley 'Owens t" 'I ',"'D~ep ~s' I can go,"' said Oharley, pulling out a greasyj'~p~cketbook,' 'and' laying b'are its contents; no great 'matter; 'in bills and~ silver, ~some nine dollars thirty.~soven ~eAt~~ ohie4y', 42keer~ia' unci 'Carolina cur- mucy. TV was instantly cove ed from one of th~ pockets ofT Ned'Ramsey, who crieS out for more customers. ""'Ed 'whar's the gray mar' all this time ?" demanded Lazy Jake. "It's a"bite !" "A bite!' It's your bite, then," answered Ramsey, 59 I at this outcry. "'You've jaw enough, I reckon,~ for. any sort of bite. As for the, critter; look out, boys, thez'e she comes. Yor~de*"s the~ gi~ay; a 'foal of'the hurricane, sir'd by 'a streak ,of"iightning." "Hurrah for Ned R4msey; I~e c~n go it I" "'O~ray~treak" Was 'now brought' up by ~ groom.,. "Thar she stands; i~eady'to:~y.' That's l~gs'f~r you, and ~' head and, neck to. 'make a pretty 'g~I je~1ou~. There's no wai~t of l~ls ~whar the, sfre 'was the 1~ghP fling. 'Nowant ~of wind,, 'With, the hurricane .for a' daiwl Ain't ~he a he~uty, Jake?"' "A decent-looking' 'thing' enough,' but" not, a' 'crease "You s~y'it'? Well, chall~ up your fig~reV~'. "' Cover that V." ' '., ' ' - "Thar it.i~,' and I'm w:iUiiig' to face us, brother." "It's a, go !" cried a huge-handed fellow, who ~~Ued Jake, "nncle," unfolding a greasy bank-not,~ ~esa~me denomination.' ' "What 7the dickens !" cried another, , interposing; "can't' I-have a grali at some ofthemipretty 'picters'? I 'believe' ~ii~ Uncle J4~, too4 Pve seen "Oi~y Rate's" heels 'before, at a: three-inile stretch,~ and I'll back' her agin a' five myself." ' - "'Will you ! -~-~you're a bold fellow," answered 1~am- ~sey:, as 'he began to fish up the "coiitents of hi~ pockets. It 'seemed It began to gi~2ew~wa er mark witirhi~i; .~nd. h~s bank~.notes 'place t~, a curious' ass~ttn4ent' of ~oinmodb ties, which. he brought u~ very 'deliberately, and ~ith~ut any blushing, 'fr6rn 'the &apacious depths of 'two; eiwi'~' mous 'breeches-pockets. -There were knife and gimlet' and 'fishhook ; Whistle,~ button, and tobacco, gui~ti4crew, bottle-stopper, and' 'packVh'r~a4,, and a di~en. or more of pea~nuts.. ~It was'~onlyhere ;and~,th~re that the '~ieoe~"bf money turned up,; a quiar~ey eagle, a few Mexicans' and a couple of 'dollars, in small silver, n~aking their &ppear~ ance~ somewhat relluetanvl5r, and contrasting o&dly enough with the other obsessionsns of our 'jo~ke~r. These were soon brought' together, and, the sum ascertained, it was 58 page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 4$ OOOP 4$ 4QO)~ 60 PY:9R, piiekly ooyere~ by4rieuds~ of. Jake Owens,, who had ~ fait1~ ip~ his cre~ti~re, 9'weiis ~was quite a knowing one in. the estimatip~i ~f Is friends, ~nd so indeed was Ram~ s~y but" Ora~y Ka~te" had shownherself a "luster," and her very loggis/irappearance led the crowd to expect a~ ~reat4eal from an animai~vhose' ~wni~'kooks ,prorhised SQ 1it~ie~, while her saga'dous ,\Q nex -seemea to .e'xpec~ fr~m;hersQ 'mii~h.. ~ 'skiiirealiylooked unhealthy; 4~rij~d~ her, 'bPd ~ h~ i~gs; and' her ~ ~sif~ ~ith.~coT~soiousness. of the disappointment which ~h~e was' abeut to give her friends. Bntall'Vhi~ .*~s ~ Pled' as:deoe~ption 'bythQbaokers 'of JJxich~Jukeq It was~ known what arts the cunnff~g~$port5~ the mane disarm the ts~of~Vbe gullible: aiA matted of~i' Craz~r Kate ;~'. the coarse,. dis-' oi'de~d':hair;' sQrted; rough hide, and sullen carriage, ~er~oply regarded. a~resut~s of a 8hre'wd training and pi~4~tation, by~hich the more coisripletely to take in the "ffMs."' 'Yerydi~'erenV w~s the appearance 'of "'Gray- ~tr~ak~" She did loqk like a thing ~f's~e'd ai4' met- tle~ $he~ was 4ean-lixnhe4'~iid light iQf',f&r~, with ~ sxxx'~ot1i, welbrubbedsldh, and s~neh 'a toss of the head,~ and s~ieh ~ bri~'ght ~littei~ of the eye~ "that" every one saw, a glance, th~t her own 'conceit of~ her ahht~i~s was not, a whit ]~ess~ tE~n the '~conV~cVk~ of' 'her master iii' her~ fay9r. 'But this really made against 'he~, in the opinions of th~ betting por~on of ,the multitude',' most of whoni had, ato easpn~&r 6ther ~ their live~s3 been' taken in by~ji~ist ~siich \ d~~dy4ppkimg. be~st '~a~ ~h~t of Lazy Jake Owens. ;R~ainsey' relfed ~zp"on this x~esult, or the appear- aneejof ' Ir~ystreak~' had been les~ in her favor "'ji~eckon," said E~rnsey~ iQoking around him, "'that Vv&Jio~o1~ed ,all the bait ih ~these4hggings.~ "If you. had. anything That ai~ chap ~iglit 1~ivev," ~riea: a; greasy~ cities thru g'hiniself' forward, and holding 'out a'~c~up1~ 'of 'shinp1ast~rs, of siiigle~ 4oll~r den&i~ina- "'~Andwko 'says1 ~h~in't ?" answered Ram*y,'as, with. TILE TENNES$EEAN'$ STORY. 61 A I 4 K his forefinger and thumb, he drew from his vest pocket a small supply of similar I 0 U's. "Well, kiver them I" "A short horse is soon curried." "Are you man enough, Ned Ramsey, to curry a long one ?" cried one from the crowd, who now pressed for- ward and appeared amid the ring. His presence caused. a sensation. It was well calculated to do so. He was small of person; a lively, dapper-looking person, seem- ingly of gentle birth and of occupations which implied no labor ;-a smooth, pale cheek, and a bright, restless black eye. His hair was long, and fell from under a green cloth cap, from which hung a gay green tassel; and several great rings might be seen upon his fingers. But the rest of his equipment was what fixed every eye. It consisted of a close-fitting jacket, with a short tail,~ like that of a light dragoon, and small-clothes, all of scarlet, after the fashion of an English jockey, and his white-topped boots completed the equipment. The habit' had been copied from an English print; and a good leg, and rather good figure, though petit, had justified, in the eye of vanity, the strange departure from all the customs of the country. "It's Captain Jones Barry," ~sa~ one of the specta- tors, in an under tone, to another who had ii~ade some inquiry: "He's rich enough to make any sort of fool~ ofrhimself and nobody see the harm of it." At the same moment, it could be seen that Ned Ramsey ex- changed significant looks with the well-dressed* stranger, who had been his shadow through the morning, as if disposed to say, "This is our man." "I say, Ned Ramsey," cried Barry, "are you man -enough to curry a large horse? I've seen your nag;~ she's a pretty creature,' that's true; but I know some- thing of Jake Owens's 'Crazy Kate,' and I don't care if I could put a customer on her heels, against your'n." "You don't, eh! well, Squire Barry, you're a huckle-' berry above my persimmon, but I reckon something 'can be done. I believe in 'Graystreak,' and will go my ''6 page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] TilE TEN1~SS~EA~q'5 STORY. 68 62 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR~ death on her. 'Twon't take much to bury me, that's true; but what thar is-" "There! can you roll out against that ?" asked Barry, as he laid a fifty dollar note upon his palm. "~Tw~ll go hard to drain me dry, but I ain't to be bluffed, neither; and though it takes from what II put away to pay for .the nag, here's at you!" and the re- quired amount was brought forth; but this time it came from a side pocket, in the coat of Ramsey, who, it was observed seemed to find some difficulty in detaching it from its 'place of security. Lazy Jake Owens was not insensible to this demonstration. It seemed to open to him new views of the case, and he now proceeded to re- examine the strange animal upoii which so good a judge as Ned Ramsey had so much to peril. But the new- corner, whom we' shall know hereafter as Squire Barry, was not similarly impressed with the proceeding. "Too much," said he, "for 'Crazy Kate,' Ned Ram- sey! I have a nag of my own, as nice a little bit of filly as is on the ~ground to-day.' I ~reckon you never saw or heard of her. Her name was 'Betsey Wheeler,' a crack mare of this county, and her sire was a New Or- leans horse, whose i~me I now forget." "I know the mar you speak of," answered Ramsey, looking up, but without appearing to discover the man Burg, who stood behind Barry, ~and to whom he had * spoken of this same mare an hour before in terms of e~&- - feeding admiration. "The mar', 'Betsey Wheeler,' was famous at a hunt. I can't say for the filly; I don't know that I ever seed her. But you can tell me what about her, Squire ?" "She's mine, ~and I believe in her; I believe in her against your 'Graystreak,' there: that I do !" "Well,, Squire, you have a right to 'believe in your nag; she's ~your own, and you know her., 'Gray- streak~s' mine, though not quite paid for yit, and I've a notion that i've a right to believe in her; she's got the heels to believe in. But what's the use of believing when every picture (bank-note) that ~you have has got its fellow already? If you was to go your belief ~'ery strong, I couldn't say a word agin it !" "What say you to another fifty ?" "It's tough, but let's see your filly; if she's much like her dam," hesitating. "What! scared, old fellow ?" "No! not exactly seared, but a little dubious! I know'd the dam; she was a. clean-heeled critter." * Looking up, he pretended to discover 'Burg, the for- mer owner of the filly, for the first time. "Ah!" said he, "Burg, you're a keener." Barry looked gratified.. He exulted in the notion that he had bluffed the bully; and Ramsey walked forward, with a side-long air, switching .his whip as he went with the manner of a man half discomfited. lie was pinned suddenly by Lazy' Jake Owens, who had just returned from a reinspection of "O-raystreak." "Ned," said the latter in a whisper, calling him aside, "I see your game! We've got but three V's on this brush; if you'll let me~ I'll take the fence and say' quits ?" "What, hedge ?" said Ramsey; " no you won't !" do as you please; but, if this bet's to hold, you don't Jones Barry." "You'll not put your' spoon into my dish, Jake ?" "I w6n't be dished myself if Ican help it." "Well! I'll let' you off, if you'll let your nag run. Keep your tongue, and you may keep your. V s." "It's a bargain-mum's the word !" "Do you know this filly, Jake ?" said Ramsey, half aloud, as 'he saw Barry approaching. "A nice critter to the eye, but I never seed her run. Her dam was a beauty for a n;iile stretch or so." "There she stanAs !" cried Barry; "'I'll back her against the field for any man's hundred." "I'll take you I" quickly responded the stranger, who was Ramsey's shadow. "Who's he ?" inquired Ramsey, in a whisper of Barry himself. page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] TIlE TENNESSEEA~I'S STORY. 64 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, "I don't know him at all," answered. Barry. "But I reckon he'll show hi~ money." "I'm ready to cover, sir," was the remark of the stranger, showing his money just as if he had heard the whispered reply of Barry to Ramsey. The bet was taken down, and the bill covered in the hands of a third person. Ramsey did not linger to behold these pro- ceedings, but occupied himself in a close' examination of ]3arry's filly. The eye of the latter, with an exulta- tion which it could not conceal, beheld the grave ex~res~ sion in that of the jockey. He saw the head of the latter'shaken ominously. "Isn't she a beauty, Ramsey? I call hei the 'Fair Geraldine,' after the most beautiful lady in the world." "You're right, to pay the filly such a compliment. She's the most sweetest little critter! Will you sell her, squire ?" "Sell 'her; no! not for any man's* thousand dollars." '~ You'll not get' t4at, I reckon. But she's got the heels; that's cla'r! she'll run 1" "Will she? well! Can she do 'Graystreak?'" "N-o! I don't exactly think she can." "You don't?' well! Can 'Graystreak' do her ?" "Y-&s! I reckon." "You reckon? well! If such is your reckoning, I sup- pose you're ready to match your mind with your money. What'll you go, on the match?" "Well, squire, you see I'm quite clear up. 'Bating what I've put aside to pay for 'Graystreak,' I don't suppose I've got more than a single Mexican or~ two. I might raise three, or, prehaps, five upon a pinch; but I shouldn't like to go more." "2Be it five, then," said Barry, eagerly; and the seem- ingly reluctant 'pieces were fished up to the light~ out' of the assorted contents of the deep pockets of the jockey. "Now," said Barry, tauntingly; "what's the value' of a horse, if you're afraid to risk on her? You say you've got money to pay for 'Graystreak?' How much did you give for her ?" ~C Oh! that's telling, squire." "Well, I don't care to know; but how much have you made up towards paying. "Well, a matter of seventy-five or eighty dollars left." "Which might be a hundred. But whatever it 10, N"ec~ Ramsey, I'm clear that if~you valued the heels of your horse at all; if, indeed, you were not frightened, you'd see it all covered before course." you'd be bantered off the "Squire, you're a little to~ hard upon a fellow," wa~ the so~e~hat deprecating reply. "Oh! it's the turn against you, then, Ramsey," was the retort Jf Barry. "You had the laugh and banter: against everybody before. Well! you can taste the feel- ing for yourself. Now, if you're a man, I banter you to~ empty yotir pockets on the match; every fip down; an& I cover ~it, fip for fip, and eagle for e~gle. I'm your man, Ramsey, though you never met with him before." It w~s with the air of the bully, desperate with defeat' and savage with his apprehensions, that ~Ramsey dashed his hands, into his bosom, drawing forth, as he replied, a pocketbook which' had hitherto been un- shown- "I'm not to be bantered by any man, though 1. lose every picayune I have in the world. 'I'm a poor man, but, make or break, thar goes. NQ man shall bluff me~ off the track, though the horse runs off her legs. Thar, squire, you've pushed me to the edge of the water; and now I'll go my death on the drink. Thar! Count! Ef my figuring ain't out of the way, thar's one hundred and five dollars in that heap !" "That's the notch," said a bystander, as the bills were counted. "Covered I" cried Barry, with. a look of exultation. He had obtained a seeming victory over the cock of the walk. The more sagacious "Lazy Jake Owens," how- ever, muttered to himself, with the responding air of one who was compelled to acknowledge the genius of the superior: 6* page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] THE TENNE$$EEAN'$. STORY. 6T 66 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, "A mighty clever chap, that Ned Ramsey, by the hokey V~ His mar' is paid for this day, if he never paid for her before." Barry~ cook-sure, of the result, now slapped his pocket- book with the flat of his hand, as he lifted it over his head, and cried to the circle around him: "There is more money to be had on this match, gentlemen. Here 'are a couple of bran new C's (hun- dreds) ready for company. Who covers them against the 'Fair Geraldine?'" The stranger, the distant shadow of Ramsey, again modestly approached with two similar bank-notes al- ready in his hands. The bets were closed. "I must find out who that stranger is," muttered Ramsey, in the hearing of Lazy Jake Owens and Barry. The latter did not seem to hear or to attend to him; but, as he walked away, Lazy Jake whispered to Ram- sey: "If so be you ain't pretty well knowing to each other already, Ned." The latter simply drew down the corner of his eye, in a way that Lazy Jak~ understood, and the parties dispersed in search of other associates and objects. The scene' we 'have witnessed was but a sample of that which WaS 'in progress, on a' smaller scale, perhaps, all over the field. lit needs 'no farther description. . 1 S CHAPTI~R V. IN WHICH THE FLEETNESS OF HORSES, AND TilE CAPRICES OF WOMEN, ARE EQUALLY CONSIDERED. = WE left our' two sworn friends on the road, rushing '3 f forward, at a pleasant canter, foi~ the race-course. They were within a mile of it, when they were joined by one who came forth suddenly from a private avenue through the woods, which conducted to his homestead. The parties at once recognized each other as old acquaint- ances. The stranger was a goodlooking person of thir- ty; not exactly one whom we should call a gentleman, but a frank, hearty, dashing, good companion, such as one likes to encounter at muster-ground or hunting-chib. He was, simply dressed. in the habits of~ the conutry; not those of the plain farmer, nor those of the profes.- sional man. A loose, open hunting-shirt of blue home- spun, with ~a white fringe, was not considered a habit too picturesque for the regiQn, and it sat becomingly upon. the large frame, and corresponded with the easy and not ungraceful 'carriage of the wearer. Tom Nettles was a character, but not ,an ~obtrusive one; a i~nan, and not a caricature. He loved fun, but it came t6 him naturally; was something of a practical joker, but his ~; merriment seldom left a wound 'i~ehind it; his, eyes were L always brightening, as if anticipating a good thing, and they did not lose this expression even on serious occa- sions. Tom Nettles was much more likely to go into a fight with a 'grin on his visage' than with any more ap.. proptiate countenance. But let him speak for himself. F "Good morning, Miles; good morning, Hammond; you're on the road something late, are 'you not ?" lli~ salutation was answered in similar' manner, and Hammond replied to his inquiry: 67 a6 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, TIlE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 69 "Something late? No! We are soon enough, I fancy." "Quite SOQII enough for the race," said the other; "but Jones Barryrode by my house two hours ago, and stopped long enough to tell 'me that' he was to be on the ground early to see Mi~ss Geraldine Foster. He said you had both made the same 'promise, and he was ient to have the start of y~u. He seems to think it a rule in love matters, as in a barber-shop, first come first served, and the first comer always the best customer." Randall Hammond smiled, but said nothing; while Miles Hen- derson, taking. out his watch,. looked a little anxious as lie remarked:~ "'We are later than 'I tbeught for." "Soon enough, Miles,~' said Hammond, assuringly. Nettles continued "But you should see the figure Barry has made, of himself. He's. dressed, froi~head to foot, in scarlet, and' pretends that it's the right dress for a man that means to run his own horse.. lie says it's the dress of one of the ~Englis'h noblemen-I / forget his name-who has' grown famous on the turf. He owns, you know, that clever little filly of 'rBetsey Wheeler,' that belonged to Burg Fisher. ~The dam was a good thing, and the filly promises to be something more, if Barry don't spoil her with his notions;. and he's full of them. He means to ~un the filly to-dq, and has~~ christened her the 'Fair Geraldine,' after a young h~dy you know, both of you, N I reckon. But, though he may get the lady, 'if he's not wide awake he'll be chiselled in the race; for Ned Ram- sey is out, with his eye set for game, and he's too old a~ hand at the game not to do a, young, 'foolish fellow like Jones Barry, with mighty little trouble." The friends allowed. 'their companion to talk. He was a person to use the privilege. They interposed a "'no" or "yes," ~t'. intervals,. and this. perfectly satisfied him. Hammond, meanwhile, was good-humored in his replies, and quite at his ease. It was not so with Henderson. Re referred to hi~ wat&IL. repeatedly, and more than once made a movement for going forwards at a pace more rapid than that into which they had fallen aftt~r Nettles had joined them.' But. his companions, on the contrary, seemed 'both equally determined not to second the movement. Whey hung 'back, and, Hammond point- edly said-. "Don't hurry, Miles. This good little fellow, Barry, attaches so much importance to hi~ being first' in the field, that it would be cruel to disturb his prospects." Nettles smiled, lie understood the speaker, and knew equally well his character and that of his companion. "If being in' a hurry," said he, "' would win ..a lady, then Barry's the boy f~r conquest. But there's the mistake. It's my. notion' that it's the last 'coiner that's most likely to do the safe business~ and not the first. A young girl likes to look about her. She soon gets used tQ one face and the' talk of one man, and likes a change that's 'something new.. I wouldn't be. too late; I wouldn't stay off till the very last hour.; wand I'd .always be near enough to be seen and heard' of now and then; nay, I'd like to "be caught sometimes looking 'in the direction of the lady; but then I'd make it a rule never to be too soon or too frequent. It's most important of all things that a man shouldn't be too cheap.1 Better 'the girl should say, 'I wonder why he don't come,' than 'I won- der why he does.'" Our philosopher of the piny wood~ might have gone on for a ~ longer stretch, had he not been 'inter- rupted by an event' that gave a new direction to the party. 'They had 'reached a bend 'in the road which gave them glimpses of another which made a junction with it, and not fifty yards off they discovered the. car~ riage of Mrs. Foster coming directly towards theme They at on.pe' joined it and made their respects, Miles Henderson taking the lead, and' Hammond and Net"tles more sloi~ly following at' his heels. The 'party of Mrs. Foster consisted of that lady her- self:, her step-daughter,' Mi~~ ~era1dine Foster, and her niece; Sophia Blane, a girl of twelve. Mrs. Poster was page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] V 70 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY OR~ an ill-bred, pretentious woman, who had succeeded the mother of Geraldine in the affections of her father, at a time when his feeble health and the impaired condition of his intellect rendered him too anxious for a nurse to be" too scrupulous about a companion. He had raised her from an humble condition to one which she was ill calculated to fill; and, with the ambition to be some- body, she determined to carry her point by audacity rather than by art, She was a bold,'forward beauty in her ~routh; was a bolder woman now, still pleasing in her face, but no longer a beauty; a woitian given to petty scandals, and satisfied with petty triumphs; en- vious of the superior, malicious~ where opposed, and in- solent when submitted to. What was defective or cen- surable in the manners of her step-daughter was dearly referable to. the evil influence of this woman, and the d~uhtful training of the distant boarding~sChool to which she had been confided at. a very 'early period of her life. That she was 'not wholly'spoiled by these unfavorable influences, was due wholly to the native excellence of her, mind and heart. She was a passionate, 'selfwilled damsel; not easily rendered submissive in conflict; ca- pricious 'in her tastes, yet tenacious of her objects; delighting in the exercise of power, without any d~flnite idea' of its uses or value'; and by no means insensible to those p personal charms which, indeed, were beyond all question; even of the hostile and the jealous. But, in opposition to these evil characteristics, 'she was magnani- mous and generous; her heart was peculiarly susceptible ~ treatment and impressions of kindness. If her tastes were capricious, they at least were always directed to objects which were delicate and noble; if she was pas- sionate, it was when roused by sense of wrong or sup- posed injustice; if she was slow to submit' in conflict, she was' never long satisfied with a victory, which a calmer judgment taught' her was undeservedly won, and she knew how to restore the laurels which she had 'usurped, with a grace and ~ti sWeetness that amply compensated the injustice. Her mind was vigorous 'and active, and THB TEN~ES8EEA~'8 STORY. 71 this led to her frequent errors; for it was a mind un- trained, and steadfast and tenacious of a cause which, it was yet to discover, was not tb~at of truth and justice. She was a creature, indeed, of many contradictions; a wild, high-souled, spiritual, but capricious creature; the very ardor of whose temperament led her into tumultuous sports of fancy, such as only shock beyond forgiveness the staid and formal being to whom there is but one God, whose name is Fashion'; but one law, the record of which is found only in what my neighbor thinks. Randall Hammond was by no means insensible to her faults; but he ascribed them 1~o the proper cause, He felt that she was a, character; but a character ~whic~h could be shaped, by able hands, into that of a noble woman ~nd a faithful wife. He looked upon her with eyes of such admiration as the Arabian casts upon ~the splendid colt of the desert, whom he knows, once sub,' dued by his art, he can manage with a whisper or a~ silken cord. But he strove-as earnestly as the Arab who conceals his purposes, and scarcely suffers the ani- mal whom he would fetter to see the direct purpose in his eye---to keep his secret soul-hidden from the object of his admiration. He was not unwilling that'she should see that she had awakened in his bosom an -interest, a curiosity, 'at least, which broug~it him not infrequently. to her presence, but he strove, with all the ~success of a~ man who has a will sufficiently 'strong to subdue 'and restrain his passions, to guard his eyes and 'his tongue so that the depth of . his emotions could not easily, or~ at all,' be fathomed. It is sufficient here to say that Geraldine Foster was not insensible to his superiority. She had very soon learned to ~distinguish and~ to dis-.. critninate between her several suitors; but the bearing of Hammond, though studiously respectful, in some de-~ gree piqued her pride. If a suitor, he was not~ a ser-. ~rant. If he spoke to her earnestly, i~ was the woman, and not 'the angel he addressed. '~This reserve seemed to betray a caution which no maiden likes to detect in I the approaches of her h~ver, and seemed to implyade- page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 4~S GOOD AS A OO~EDY OR,' TII~ TE-N~SSEflAN'S STORY. ficiency of that 'necessary ardency and warmth' which was, in truth, the very last want which could be charged upon this gentleman. Mrs. Foster first insinuated this doubt into the bosom, of her step-daughter, and the feel.. ing of the consciously underbred woman made her stu- -dious~ in keeping up the suspicion. She was not satis- fied with the superior rank of Hammond's family; was mortified at the coldness and distance of his mother, whom she well knew to have been intimate with the first wife of Mr. Foster; and, though the peculiarly respect- ful' deportment of Hammond himself left her entirely without occasion for complaint, the very rigor of hi~ carriage, the studious civility of his deportment, by re- straining her freedom with his own, was a check upon = that vulgar nature which is never satisfied till it can subdue the superior nature to its own standards. ,Mrs. Foster could say nothing against Randall Hammond; but -she could not conceal her preference for all other suitors. Miles Henderson was decidedly a favorite ; ~but there was a charm in the idea that Barry's fortune could positively "buy the Hammonds out and out," that in- clined the scale of her judgment greatly in behalf of the latter. IBut we are at the course, the horses are' taken from the carriage, the three young - men are in. attend- ance, and Barry is approaching. "Dear me, Captain Barry," exclaimed Mrs. Foster, "how splendidly, you are dressed !" "Is that your uniform in the mi1i1~ia, Captain Barry ?" was the demand of Geraldine. - "l2hey'd set him up for a scarecrow, if it was," said Nettles; "and he'd have to treat as long as the liquor -' lasted, before they'd let him -down." "0 hush, Nettles; you're always with your joke 'at everything and everybody. I Wonder what there- is in my- clothes for you to laugh at-?" - - "Not much, .1 grant you, while you're in 'em," was the reply. - "But answer Miss Foster. She' wants to know what uniform it is you've got 'on." "Oh! ifs no uniforgi, Miss Geraldine. This is the exact ~uit wo#n by the Earl of T&tham, at the last 'Den-" caster races. " - -- - - ',' - - - - ' - - "You don't say that the Earl of Tothaiu sent 'you his old clothes ?"' responded Nettles. "No! no !0 said Mrs. Fostei'~-' "I understand. Cap- tain Barry-has adopted a dress like that whjch tJW I~arl 6f Tothani- wore ~t thje IDoncaster r&ies.- Well!' I don't see what tlier&is to -l-auigh-~at in & costume b6rro-wed frotr~ the b'est nobilityXof Eitr~pe." "But -wh~ is -the -Earl of 1I'otham ?" deni'mWd Hani~ mond. "I knew of ni siiA~ title in the' English ~e~r- age." - - ' - " - "No? But it may be in the Scotch, or Irish,"'aaid Mrs. Foster, anxk~usly. ' - "No. It 1~ielongs to neither. '- But it makes no great matter.- We are in a 'free -c6~ntry; Captain K~ari~y, and can wear what garments we please, iii spite of the~ Eng.. lish'peerage." - ' - "Ay, and ifl~ spite 'of our - neighbors, too~ Captain Barry," said Geraldine." -- - - ' - - " Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. ~ost'~r~ 'exiilfln~iy. There's i~1any of those- who decry 'the fi~e~ep~ipffie~ts of superior fortuii~, who would give' halt their lives' to enjoy them. Now I think,' however strange it appears to oui~ -eyes, that this- costume ~f the Earl 'of-wha~'& his I think," said Nettles~, with a simrk; purming; whh' a vulgar accent, upon- the 'first "'~4hible. Tote, among the uneducated classes- of th~ South,' means "to carry."- -' - - "Totehani!" continued - Mrs. Foster, ihhoeently. "-Well, - I- 'repeat, this beautiful costume of' the 'E~ri ' of Totehami~ appears pa-rticiilarly adapted to the ~ii tlemen who- are fond of field sp6its." - g - The eye "of -iRarry- brightened. He i6ok~d - hi& gr~ti- tude. - - - - -- aii~wered Netti~s-; -" agree *ith you, Mi's. Foster'" the rpdw6uild not suffer froni an occasional 'rolL'amniig the soft crimson mire of our own ~la~ hills; and as our 7' page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] A~ GQ0D 'A5~ A COMEDY: OR, THE ~TE~NE~SEE4N's STORY. 76 sporting gentlemen drink deep usually before they leave the turf, the prospect is that they become deeply ac- quaint~d with the color of the hills before they reach h0me." * "0, Mr. Nettles 1" exclaimed the maternal lady. ~ Nor is the advantage wholly 'in the color," con- tiniled. Nettles, with gr&aV gravity. "The cut of the coat is particularly cakulated' to show off the fine person of the wearer. The absence of all skirt is favorable to the~horseman; though '1 confess myself at a loss to guess wlia~ us&to make ot~ that little pigeon-tail depe~nd~nee in. the rear. I can scarcely suppose it meaiit to be orDa- mental." All eyes followed the direction, thus' given them, and one of' Barry's own hands involuntarily clutched the little puckered peak which stuck out in the most comical fashion above his hips. Barry~ began to suspect that he was laughed at,~ and Mrs. Foster interposed, to change the suhjeet. run ~~"'~" hI~~~rh and mean to 1riu~ him your- 8elf, Captain Barry ?" "That I. do, iVirs. Foster; I have pretty nigh five hundred on his heels, and I'll trust to no rider but my- self." *"' Well, that's right; that's what I call manly," said Mrs. Foster. "Y6u have certainly a very beautiful creature, Cap- tairi Barry," was the remark of Geraldine, turning from a~ somewhat subdued conversation with Henderson, to which, Hammond was an almost silent partner. "You gentlemen," continued the fair~ girl, "are to teach me how I am to bet. That is, you are tQ. give me your opinions, which I shall follow as I choose. See, I have a world of ribbons' here, and am prepared. to wear all colors. Who has the best horses, and how many are there to run "You heau~. of pne, certainly, 'Miss Foster," said Net- tles. "Yes! and certainly Captain Barry rides a very beautiful creature."' "She has the logs of an. angel," said Barry.' "Better if 'she had its wings, I should think,"~ w~s the immediate remark of Geraldine. "Very good, very excellent,' Miss "G&aldine; cer- tainly, for a race, the swings *of an angel might be 'of more service than its legs~' But she will scarcely need them, Her legs will answer.". '"Should she lose, Barry, y6iu'il have to change l~er name.' Do you know the name of 4hi~ beautiful' crea- ture ?"~-To Miss Foster. She answered quietly-~.- "0, yes'! I have heard how greatly I am honored' and, in truth, I shall ~feel quite unhappy if she does not win. 'I must certainly, at all hazards, 'bet upon my namesake." "You may do it boldly !" said i3arry; with . confi. dence; "I'll ins~fre your losses." "Who'll insure you, Barry? 'Your chances will de- pend upon what takes the field!" quoth Nettles.' ""Do you know the mare of Lazy Jak~ Owens, that they call 'Crazy Kate?'" "I do! your filly can trip her'heels." "I know that! my ~' Glaucus" shall' do that.' He's here,' and will be ridden by little Sam IPerkins. 'Well! here's, besides, V'ose's 'Gr'ay~haft."' "Pretty good at a quarter, but-" "And Biggar's filly, 'Estella."" "Her dam, 'May Queen;' sire,~' 'IBarcombe;' a good' thing, but' wanting bottom." "Joe Balch's 'Nabob,' Zeplt Stokes's 'Keener,"and 'Flourish,'. ~ gambQl-looking nag from Augusta, or there- abouts." "J'know them all except the last. The" Fair Geral- dine' ought to give them all the wind." "She'll' do it!" "But these are not all the' horses out, surely?" "No'! there's another~ animal~ that Ne~ Ramsey claims. I never saw her before, and don't think a great page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 AS (*OOD AS A. CO1~EDY: 0R~ TUE TEN~ESS~EAN's STORY. 77 deal of her now; they call her 'Grayertreak;' she comes from Mississippi. I bluffed Ramsey so tightly that I almost scared 'him off the hill; but I brought him to the scra~tcli, a~~d I havo covered for him to the tune of a hun- dred and more on the match between' Graystreak' and '~eralditic~;' b~esidessoniething like half the amount on ]I~a~y Jake's mare against' ' Graystreak.'" "And where's this 'Graystreak?'" The animal was only at a little distance. The pro- prietor, the renowned Ned Ramsey, was busy, at the inomen1~, in preparing her for the course. The eyes of the party were directed to the beautiful creature in ad~ miratjon. She shipped to the sun finely; as if clad in velvet. Her clean liinbs,~Wiry and slender; the spirit in lw~r eye, and the airy life in all her action, at once fixed the regards of so good a judge as Nettles. Nor was Randall Hammond indilferont' to the beauty of her form, and the promise in her limbs. "Thisfool and his money have parted !" said Nettles, in a whisper to Hammond. "Your horse is the only one that can take the legs from this filly, and it wotild give him trouble!" The answer of Hammond was unheard, as they reap- proached the carriage where the ladies sat. "Well, gentlemen 1" said Geraldine, impatiently; "I am~ eager to be busy. Come, let me have your judgment. What horse shall I adopt as myfavorite ?" "Are you not fairly committed to your namesake ?" asked Hammond, with a quiet manner; his eye, how- ever, looking deeply into hers. She answered the gaze ~y dropping hers; replying quickly, as she did so :- "No indeed! the 'compliment to me must not 'be made to lose my money or discredit my judgment. For sur~, Captain IRarry~himseif-'lias no such design to injure me. But I ~Io fancy the beauty of:hi~ horse, and if you think her fleet, Mr. Hammond-" Shepansed:- "The 'Fair Geraldine' is doubtless a very fleet, as she a very beautiful creature !" "But," said Nettles, finding that Hammond hesi~ tated, "that strange mare you see yonder undressin is sure to beat her." "Sure to beat her !" exclaimed Barry, who drew nigh in season to hear the' last words. "What'll you go on the word?" "Horse, house, lands, ox, ass, and everything that is mine 1" "Nay, nay! to the point; look to your pocketbook !" "Well, if you will have it, we'll say a hundred on the match; '~raystreak' agaitist ~ny horse in the field, unless hammond runs his 'Ferraunt,' arid then 'Fer- raunt' against the field!" "'Ferraunti' " said Barry ; ' "that, the large iron gray he rides. Why, he came on him !" looking ~to Hammond inquiringly. The latter had yielded hi~ horse to his groom, and was now sitting on the box of~ the carriage, the driver being withdrawn to look after his horses. "Fefraunt" was already groomed, and resting in the shade at. a little distance under~ the charge of the servant. The finger of Nettles pointed where he stood. The eye of Gerahilne at once followed ~he direction of his finger, and while 2 Barry and Nettles arranged their stakes, and withdrew to look at "Ferraunt," a short dialogue, not withoiit its interest, took place between herself and Hammond. "Is your horse2 so very fleet, Mr. Hammond, as Mr. Nettles says heis?" "He 'has the reputation of being a very fast horse, Miss Foster; indeed, he is probably the fastest on the ground." "Well; you mean to run him, of course "Why of course ?" "Oh, why not? To own a race-horse, indeed, 'seems to imply racing. What is the use of him otherwise ?" "One may love to look at a beautiful animal with- out seeking always to test his speed;. at all events, without seeking to game with it." 7* page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] THE TENNESSflEA~1'5 STORY. 79 78 AS GOOD AS A OOMBDY: OR~ "To game! Is not that a harsh expression, Mr. Ilamrnond3" :. Perhaps it- is, since gentlemen have not often the of gain when they engage in this amusement. It ~ioble and beautiful exercise of a beautiful animal that they practise this recreation, and not for its profits." "Well; and gi~u could have no eye to the gains, Mr. Hammond ?" "No. But how small is the proportion of gentlemen, go~rned by such principles, to those who usually col- lect at a sceiw and on an occasion like this! ~What a greedy appetite for gain d6es it provoke among thousands who have no other object, and find no pleasure iti the exquisite picture of the scene-in the glorious conflict ~f rival blood and temperament-in the wild grace of the motion of the steeds-~--in~ all that elevates it momen- tarily into. something of the dignity of a field of battle;. who think only of ~the wretched results which are to fill.. or Jemptiy their pockets. And ~of these, very few can ~afford to win or lose. If they win, they acquire certain~ appetites from success, which usually end in Vheir:iruin.; ami if they lose-though more fortunate in doing. so, as they ~are probably made disgusted with the pursuit.~~z~they yet rob their families of absolute neces- saries, in this miserable search after a diseased luxui~y for themselves." "I confess I am no philosoPher, Mr~ Hammond. I don't see things in the ,same light with yourself, and can, scarcely believe in such dreadful consequences from a spectacle that is really ~o fine and 'beautiful." "Oh," said Mrs. Foster, interposing, sneeringly; "oh, Mr. Hammond, you get all those queer notions from your mother.' "You will permit me to respect the woman of my * opinions, M~s~ Foster?" with a respectful but measured bow. "Oh, surely. She's an excellent woman, and I re- spect her very much; but her notions on this subject are very peculiar, I thinks though, in her case, natural enough." This was said with .a degree of significance which did not suffer' Hammond to misunderstand the speaker. His face was instantly and deeply suffused with crimson, as he felt the allusion to the fate of his 'father. His head was, for the moment, averted from the speaker.. In that moment, the malicious woman whispered to her step- daughter, "At him again. I know where the shoe pinches." A slight expression of scorn might have been seen to curl the lips of Geraldine. A pause ensued, which was at length broken by Jianunond, who drew her attention to a showy procession of the pied horses, the calico steeds of the circus company. Some comment followed on the performances of the troupe, when the young lady, in the most insinuating manner, resumed, with Hammond, the subject of his own horse. "But, Mr. Hammond, though you inveigh against racing as a' practice, you can have no objection to run- ning your horse, upon occasions, onOe in a way, as much for the satisfaction of your friends as with any 'other object. Now, I am quite pleased with your dark-look- ing steed. What do you call him ?" "'Ferraunt.'" "Ah! his name indicates his color. He seems to me a military horse. "I got him chiefly as a'charg&r.'~ "Oh, yes; I forgot; you are a colonel 'qf militia. But, for a charger, you need an animal at once high- spirited and gentle." "He is both. That, indeed, Miss Foster, is the ch~ racer of all high-blooded animal's. The rule holds good among men. The' most gentle are generally the 'most high-spirfted~at once the most patient and the most enthusiastic. The race-horse, next to the mule, makes the best plough-horse.". "But that is surely a contradiction ~ the' mule' being the most 'dogged, stubborn, slow-.-" h p page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] TIlE TENNES$]~EAN'S STORY. 81. 80 AS GOOD AS A CO~vIEDY: OR, "' He need not be slow. He is only slow when broken and trained by a 'drowsy negro. But, though it seems a contradiction, as you say, to employ animals so utterly unlike for the same purposes, and to find them nearly equally good, it is one that we may, and perhaps must reconcile, on the principle that finds a sympathy in, ex- tremes." "Mr. Hammond, it seems to me that all this is per- versely intended to divert me from my object." A playful smile and arch manner accompanied this remark of. the young lady. "But I am as perversely resolved Wat you shall not escape. Now, then, let me hear from you. iDo you not intend that 'Ferraunt' shall run to- day?" "I really do not, Miss Foster. I came out with no such purpose. ' I'm ready for you, colonel" was the remark of Jones Barry, who had just that moment reappeared with, Nettles. "I'm not afraid of your 'Ferraunt,' though Nettles tells me he's good against all thjs cro*d. I'm willing to try him. I don't believe in your foreign horses, when they come to, this country; the climate don't seem t& suit 'em. They're always sure to be beat by the natives; and, after the first 'talk on their arrival, you never hear anything said in their favor, and you never see anything they do. Now, your 'Ferraunt' comes of good stock, but he's awkWard-" "Awkward !" said Nettles; "ah! Barry, if you could only dance as well." "Well, I'jn willing, to see him dance; and, if Col. Hammond chooses, I'll go. a cool hundred on the 'Fair Geraldine' against him. There's a banter for you." "I won't run my horse, Mr. Barry." "What, bluffed off so soon ?" said Barry, coarsely. "Gail i~ 'what you will, Mr. Barry; I don't run horses." ~" But, Mr. Hammond, if you are content to underlie his challenge, you surely will not be so uneourteous as 'to refuse mine. The 'Fair Geraldine' against 'Fer- raunt,' for a pair of gloves. I must maintain the reputa~ tion of my namesake." "The ~ Fair Geraldine' must excuse me, if my cour- tesy will not suffer me to accept her challenge. "What? ~you pretend that your horse must beat ?" "I know it, Miss Foster." "And what if I say that I don't believe a ivord of it? that I equally know that the 'Fair Geraldine' is the fastest horse? and I defy you to the trial? There, sir, ~yglove'against yours." This was all' sweetly, if not saucily said. The eyes of Hammond were fixed gratefully upon the speaker; but he shook his head. "You must forgive me, if I decline the trial in the case of my horse. Bat, if you will permit me, I cheer- 'fully peril my , glove against your favorite in behalf of 'Graystreak,' yonder. "No, no, sir; your horse, your 'Ferraunt.'" "You can't refuse,~ colonel," said Barry. "No, Randall !" said Henderson. "Impossible !" cried Nettles; who was anxious to see 'Ferraunt' take the field." "A lady's challenge !" cried Mrs. Foster; "chivalry forbids that you refuse." "I am compelled to do so, Miss Foster. 'It would give me pleasure to comply with your wishes, but I never run my' horse, or any horse; I never engage as a prin~ cipal in racing of any kind." Nettles and Henderson both drew Hammond aside to argue the matter with 'him. They were followed& by Barry, who 'was in turn followed by the jockey, Ramsey. Nettles had his arguments, which were urged in vain; and, when 'Henderson dwelt on the claims of the lady, Hammond replied, somewhat reproachfully: "Yo~& know, Miles, that I shouldn't run a horse; were all the fair women in~the world to plead." "Well,'.' said Barry, "what a man won pleading, he may do for bantering. ' here do for I'm for. 'that, page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, colonel, and I'll double upon the hundred against your foreign horse." "I must decline, Mr. Barry; I'm no racer, and will not run my horse; but, let, me assure you, sir, that your mare, though a very clever thing, could not hold her ground for a moment against him." "IF~asy bragging," said Ramsey, with a chuckle, "when there's no betting." "And as easy to lay a horsewhip over a ruffian's shoulder, sir, when he presumes where ~he has no busi- ness." Ramsey~ disappeared in an instant; a roll of the drum followed, giving notice of the approaching struggle; and the desire to see "Ferraunt" on the ground, gave place, among the few, to the more immediate interest which belonged to the known competitors. Barry in- stantly hurried off to his groom and stable; Nettles sauntered away to the starting-post, while Henderson and Hammond returned to the carriage. The latter felt that the manner of Geraldine was changed. Her eye met his, but there was a coldness in the glance, which his instinct readily perceived; but, true to his policy, he suffered it to pass unnoticed; was respectful without being anxious, and attentive without showing too much solicitude. "You," said Geraldine to Henderson, "you, too, I am told, ride a fine and fleet, horse; do you not intend to run him?" "If Miss Foster desires it." "Of course I desire it! What do you call your horse?" "Sorella I" "Sorella! a pretty name. Well, how does she run? Is she fleeter than my namesake ?" "What ~ay you; Randall ?" "Oh, do~i't ask him! He will say nothing that'll please anybody. What's your opinion ?" " That '$orella' is too much for the 'Fair Geraldine!'" "I'll not believe it; and I transfer to you the chal- TILE TEN~ESSEEA~'S' STORY. 88 lenge that your friend scorned, or feared to take up. Which was it, Col. Hammond ?" "Let us suppose feared, Miss Foster I" replied Ham- mond, gently, and with a pleasant smile. "I don't know what to make of you, Col. Hatrrmond. I wish I could make something of you. But I despair; I'll try no longer !" "That you should have even tried, Miss Foster, is a satisfaction to my vanity." "Oh, don't indulge it. Tt was not to give youany pleasure, I assure you, that I thought to try at all; only to please my fancy, and-" "Still, I am gratified that I should, in any way, have contributed to this object." "Nay! you are presuming; you torture everything I say into a compliment to yourself. But, hear me! if you won't run your horse yourself; let me run him. iii ride him. I'm not afraid. I'm ambitious now of taking the purse from the whole field, and snapping my fingers at their Crazy I(ates and Graystreaks, and even their Geraldines. Geraldine against Geraldine. How will ~r. Barry like it, I wonder; and that, too, at the cost of his hundreds. Cool hundreds, I think, he calls them; cool, I suppose, from being separated from their compan- ions. Well! will you let me ride your 'Ferraunt?'" "If you will suffer me to place him at your service when at home, Miss Foster I" "No, no! I want a race-horse, not a saddle-horse; I want him here, not at home. Don't suppose I'm afraid to run him. I'~n as good a rider, I know, as almost any on the ground, and---But say! shall I have him ?" "I dare not, Miss Foster; for your own sake, I dart, not. But I feel that you are jesting only--". No, indeed! I'm as serious as I ever was. I don't know what you mean When you say you dare not, unless, indeed, you think-" "Oh !don't ask Col. Hammond any favors, my child, he's so full of notions !" the step-mother again interposed, maliciously. GerNdine threw herself back in the car- page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, riage with an air of pique, and Henderson looked at his friend commiseratingly, as if to say " You've done for yourself, forever !" The other seemed unmoved, however, and preserved the utmost equanimity. There was another roll of the drum; at this signal, Henderson held up a blue ribbon to Miss Foster, who drew from her reticule a crimson cockade with which the ingenious Mr. Jones Barry had provided her. This she fastened to her shoulder, acknowledging her sympathy with the colors of her namesake. Henderson, in another moment, disap- peared, glad to have an excuse, in the~command5 of the lady, for showing off to advantage his equally fine horse and person. THE Thf&N]~SSEEAN'S 'STORY. 85 CHAPTER VI. THE RACE.-~CROSS PURPOSE$~ OuR preliminaries 'are all adjusted, and the moment approaches;for. the conflict. The eyes of all' are n&w directed to the central point from which, at the tap of the drum, the 'coiitending horses ~re:to start. The card- players desert their' log beneath ' the shade-trees, the greasy pack being thrust hto the 'pdcket of one of the company till the more immediate object of interest~ is over. The rifle-shooters 'lean' their implements against a tree, a~id seek the common point of attraction.. The cooks leave their seething-vessels; the negroes hurry from their 'horses ;" all parties,' high and 'loW, big and little, crowd upon the track; pressing upon the ropes that guard the little space assigned to the running animals, and crowding absolutely upo~t their heels.' The scenes that we have Witnessed, in a few striking 'instances already, are in: progress on a smaller scale everywhere. Bets are freely offered and taken, now that the' horses are uncovered and in sight. The flrst1anirnal 'that stripped for the 'examination of the judges, was a large horse of Jones Barry's,~ called "Glaucus,"' a great..limbed beasi~, that proniised much more endurance than speed, and yet had the look of' being too heavy to endure his own weight beyond a reasonable distance. 'his. chances lay in the faet that the race in ivhich he 'was to run~was but a singh~ 'mile, and his less were quite' sufficient for that. Yet "' Giancus"' did"'n~t seem much of a favorite.' "An elephant!" cried; one. "'Looks more likes a gin-horse than a race-horse,'~' said another. No go," said a third.~ 8 page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] AS A COM1~DY OR, "Slow go," at least, quoth Tom. Nettles, addressing Barry himself. "NQt so slow either; sure, rather." "Yes, of the du~t from other heels, if not of his own~ I'll take 'Crazy Kate' against 'Glaucus' for a five, J3arry; and the Mississippi mare against him two to one; say ten to five." "I'm not tobe bluffed, Nettles. I'm your man "Grayshaft," a neat little creature of Dick Vose's, next vaulted into the space, and underwent the usual peeling9 LiglitAimbed; clean-legged, and with a good glossy skin,, '~ Grayshaft" won a g9od many favoring voices. "]~steJla," a fillyof Ralph iI3iggar's; "Nabob," "Keener," and "Flourish," were severally brought for- ward and had their backers.' 'Each. ~f them had some points to. commend them. Some told in length and ease of legs; some in good muscle, in general carnage, i& beauty of shape, in eye, head, and other charac- teristics9 l3ut the expression of admiration was much more decided, among the multitude, when "Crazy Kate" made bier appearance in the space~ Now "Crazy Rate" was remarkable for showing nothing calculated to persuade the casual spectator into a belief in her fleetness. She was, in truth, a very vulgar-lp9king beast, singularly tinmeriting the, appellation of "'Crazy," as no creature could possibly have looked, more tame.. Her hair was coarse, confused,' and rough,, as if shedding; her mane was matted, and an occasional cockle-burr could be seen hanging among the bristles; }ut all these signs were regarded rather as the 'cunning devices of the pld jockey, her owner, Lazy Jake Owens, than as at all indicative of her qualities of speed and 'bottom. r. ~iPlie more knowing followers of the turf readily dis- covered, through all these unfavorable indices, the slen: der limbs, ~the wiry muscle, the strength and substance, which denoted good blood, agility, and fleetness. The contrast which the Mississippi mare presented to the ungainly externals of "Crazy Kate,"' was productive of a shout in her favor. "Graystreak" was the' model TRF Tfl~TkSSnnAN'$. STORY. ' 87 of a fine animal; perhaps' wanting somewhat in height, but possessed of immense capacit~~ great nmscnlar power, fine color; in limb, action, intiscie, exhibiting largely the characteristics of high blood, speed, and"great ~endurance.' Her skin was glossy, her eye bright and steady;'and ~he showed, in her: movement, so perfect a union 'of spirit and docility, that you felt, at a glance, that her training had done full justice to her blood. There was no r~sist- ing the impression which she made. Barry himself felt it,but he relied upon the known cunning of Laq Jake Owens, and was confident that still greater merits la~ beneath the unkempt, uncomely aspect of "Crazy Kate.' Lazy Jake himself seemed as confident as ever; feeling sure in the private engagentent with Ned Ramsey, 'Which made him safe, at the expense~ of 'all' hi~ backers. "You have 'now a good view' of the horses that are to run, Miss Foster," wi~is the remark of Hammond, van- turing to arouse the damsel from something like a reverie. "They have already examined them, and weighed the riders. In a few' moments, they will mount and, be~ ready for' a start. Suffer me to throw back, the top of your barouche, when you can rise and see the whole ~field at a glance." "Oh! do so, Mr. Hammond, if you please.' Where do you say I shall 'look?" Geraldine eagerly rose as she spoke, and while Hammond threw back the top of the carriage, she scrambled forward upon the seat' beside him, using his shoulder with the utmost indifference' during the proceeding. "Your favorite 'does not run this race, which i~ ~con- sidered a less trying one than that 'which she will en- counter. 'Ji~ is for a~ single mile stretch on1~, wn4 repeat;- and many a horse who would' beat, hi a ~ would probably lose in this; ~hi1e the winner, here would' be nothing in a contest which was ~continue'd ~for two or three miles at a stretch."' "And which of these horses will 'win the race; 'not:that dowdyisMooking beast, stirely ?~' "She will do something towards it; more than most of * page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, them; for the rudeness of her appearance is due rather to the small arts of her owner, than tp her native defi- ciencies of beauty. She is not a, handsome creature, hut, well dressed,~ would be far from ugly." "Fine feathers make fine birds, you would say, responded Geraldine, merrily, with a smile and toss of her own' plumes~. "Exactly: but this poor beast is carefully disguised for the purpose of taking in the simple, who look to e~- ternals only.' Sh~ is probably second best of the horses iii the ring." "And theiirst?" "Jis that 'sleek and quiet animal that 'stands imme- diately behind' her. She ~is a strange creature from MisSisSippi, and is probably the best nag on the ground for fleetness and endurance." "Your 'Ferraunt' excepted?" said the l~idy, slyly. "My 'Ferraunt' probably - excepted," was the. some- what grave reply. "I wish you would run that horse, Mr, Hammond. For my sake you might."' This was said in somewhat lower tones than usual. "For your sake, Miss Foster, I would do much;' but there is a reason-but, hark! they are preparing' for the start. You see that rider with the scarlet jacket. lie rides the horse 'Glaucus,' another of Mr. Barry's racers. You se~ there are several horses in front, with different colors.' Stand 'upon the seat, and you will better see them." She adopted th~ suggestion; rose to the prescribed elevation, he keeping his place on the floor of the car- riage, while her hand rested, as if unconsciously,' upon his shoulder. In this manner, shading her eyes with the other hand, 'she directed her gaze upon the points to w~iich he severally drew her attention. "They are now all mounted. The white jacket and cap is the Mississippian; the blue is~ 'Crazy Kate.' Hark,~ The 'word-they are off!" A thousand "hurrahs" from" the multitude,. ' 'The TEE TENNESSERA~.'S STORY. 89 excitement in the bosom of our damsel was scarcely less. "They go ! ~they are gone! Oh! mamma, do you see them? Ho~ they dart.-how they fly! ~Where~are they now, Mr. Hammond ?~ I do not see. J-cwnnot fol- low them!" The start was a beautiful one,. made at an equal bound, I' Glaucus" and 4' Grayshaft" taking the lewd; "Keener" and "Flourish" following close, aiid" Orazy Kate" and "Graystreak," with "Nabob," just~ h&ngiug at their heels. Soon, however, the position of the parties fluctuated. "Flourish" made a dash, and ~nugher1~ail in the face of "Glaucus ;" "Nabob" went forward till he locked him, and was, in turn, passed by "Crazy Kate ;" the Mississippi mare breezi~ig up with a gradual increase of velocity, evidently under the mo~t adroit management of' rein. "Glaucus" struggled bravely against this new adversary, and made a desperate push, which succeeded in throwing "Flourish and Nabob" out of the lead; but" Crazy Kate" still kept ahead, utEtil her backers began to shout their exultation, when, to their consternation, the Mississippian flared up tinder a single application of the whip, and shot ahead as suddenly and swiftly as an arrow from 'the bow. Sh&' passed the string just a quarter of a length in advance, of :~ Crazy' Kate," who was just as closely pressed 'by "'Glaucus" and "Grayshaft." These four horses~ seemed only so many links of the same chain, so' equally close did they - maintain their relationship at the termination of' the brush. The other horses were considerably in the rear. The race was to the Mississippian, and the flat& were feel- ing in their 'pockets.' Lazy Jake Owens was somewhat scarce, and a long and dubious silence succeeded' the wild shouts that relieved the suspense of the inul~itnde4 "What horse ha~ won, Mr. Hammond ~" "'Graystreak,''the Mississippian, Miss FosterI'~" "But not greatly. lit seemed to '~ne tha;t all the horses were together. Jif he won, it Was scarcely by 'his own length." 8* page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] TIlE TENNESSEEAN'S' STORY. 91 *~9O AS GOOD A~ A COMflDY: OR, U "lit sufficed: but he might have quadrupled that dis. tance. But it was not the policy of his driver that it should be so. 1He is modest. He looks rather for success than triumph. He prefers the money to the fame. But the greatest contest follows, that in which your favorite takes~ the field." "Yet the~Mississippian will win, you say." ~ Yes! he will prove too much, I suspect, for your namesake. lie will not wiw so easily, however. Besides, Miles. Heiiderson will run his mare, and she's a bright creature." "'Sorell?'" "Yes! he 'may beat her; but she comes of the same * blood with ~ Ferraunt,' and if managed rightly-" "It depends upon the rider, then ?" "Gre~itly! and I will see Miles on the subject." "Really, Mr. Hammond, that you should know so much about horses, and yet refuse to take part in the struggle!" "I love horses, Miss Foster; I delight in their beauty, and~their movements are grateful to me. Perhaps but for certain reasons, which concern me only, I should be passionately fond of racing, and frequently engage in it. But my objections are insuperable. I dare not! But~ for this you should have been the mistress, this day, of all the movementss of my horse." He disappeared in search of his friend. Mrs. Foster sniggered, as, h~ went. Seeing her step-daughter looking seriously, while her eyes followed the retreating form of Hammond, she said :- "It's nothing but his pride and arrogance; it was so always with him, and witk~ all his family. They delight in being perverse.. his mother is just 'that sort of per- ~son; ~ cold, formal, conceited, consequential, old, stiff- capped somebody, that would be like nobody else. As for I~andall h1ammond~' every one knows that he's a tyrant. life thinks he can do as he likes with women; that they're all so anxious to get him, that they'd submit to any dictation. IBut he'll find himself mistaken yet~ Now he loves you, Geraldine, quite as much as he loves or can love anybody; an'd when he 'finds he' can't be' master, he'll perhaps be willing that you should be mis- tress; bRt you'll have to make him feel that. he's iiobody, first. Tie's a haughty, cold-" "Oh! hush, mother; you know that 'you don't like him." I- . N~! don't; not a bone in his slun, nor his'old mo- ther either. But what I say is true. You see for your~ self', and you'll learn to see with my eyes' before yo~u see anything good in him !" "I shall scarcely do so then. But the pan's a man. He don't change. lie's firm; and that's 'something He don't flatter, either; aud though that vexes me, yet II don't think the worse of him forit." "Oh, yes"! and he'll hear you singling yet-. 'When is he coming to marry me s'" "No, he won't! mother, nor any man. I don't care whether I marry or not. I don't see that marrying is so necessary; .and I'm positively sick of hearing women talk' of marriage, as if it was the only subject in the world to talk about." "And so it is; a woman's z~obody until she's a wife !" " And then she's one-body's 1" "Yes! and then all's safe! But, if. you're wise,' you'll marry anybody sooner than a master." "And when I submit that any man shall be my ina~- ter, I shan't complain,~be assured' of it. But no more"of it ;for here comes your favorite, Oaptain Barry.". I wish he were your favorite, too. Tie's the man; you can manage him like a feather." "A feather, then7 would be a good ~substitute for~ o, husband !"' "Yes, indeed, if it adorns one's bo~rnet !" "Hush !'' "Well, ladies! you see I've been unlucky," began 1~arry; "my 'Glaucus' just lost the race by a;span. Jim Perkins rode him badly. He held in where he should page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] * 92 AS GOOD A~ A OQMEDY: OR, * have 'let. out, and' I saw him looking behind, and jerking in, just when he should' have used the'whi.p. But that's nothing. I didn't count largely on this race. In the next, however, I'll ride 'Fair Geraldine' myself;- and 'then we'll see after this 'Graystreak.' You saw the run? You. ~a*' that the 'Mississippian"' and 'Crazy Kate' were both ~ui to their best? Now I know that 'Geraldin&' can gallop round 'Glaucus' at his speed. We'll see' !"' "Well, remember, Mr., Barry; I've a fortune in gloves oi~ my namesake." "sever. fear! never fear~!~' "Thit Mr.~' Henderson's going to run his 'Sorella.'" "Yes";' I ~ee him busy. H~' stands no chance. 'Sorella' is sister of 'Ferraunt;' 'Geraldine' can beat 'em both. I only'wish we. could get 'Hammond to come out with his iron gray. We'd show him! We'd take the conceit out of him 1" "What can be the reason of his reluctance ?" "Reason !" exclaimed the mother; "why~ there's no reason, but his 'pride. He thinks horseracitig vulgar." "That 'can: hardly 'be. possible. Indeed, I'm sure, from what he said to nw, that it is not pride. I~esides, I'm not~so sure that I can't persuade him to it' yet." "Indeed! you may give"up that notion," said Barry. "He particularly,. told Nettles and myself that he wouldn't run' his:, hoi~se' for you or any woman breath~ "'Said' ho. that?", demanded 'Geraldine, while her eye flashed hiddenn fires of indignation~ and hercheek flushed with the feeling of a slighted pride. "'To be sure he did; not twenty yards from your car- riage; aria when' Nettles. and Henderson 'were telling him that he could no longer refuse, after you had 'asked him." "It was like him !" said the step-mother. "I hope you're satisfied now The daughter was 'silent~ and Mrs. Foster, satisfied with- the 'step' gained, was prudent .enough to. say no TIlE TENNESSEBAN'S STORY. 9$. mote. Barry ran on for some time longer; but, finding that what he said was little heeded, he hurried away to, the stand, 'and to make hi~ preparatiohs for the next great race. Meanwhile,. llammond~ unsuspecting. the evil seed Which had been planted in his absence, had sought out Henderson, in order to give him counsel in relation to the race. It may be said here, that Hammond was 'not only an excellent judge of the qualities of~ a Eorse, *iiit that he particularly knew "Sorella." lie had imported and partly trained her; and she had been his gift) to Henderson, some time before., He now took the latter' aside, and said to him.'- "You are too heavy to ride 'Sorella' yourself, .Miles, and can venture little against this 'Mississippi filly. I think that 'Sorella' can heat her in the long ~ but only under a first -rate rider~ Now, do you go over with me to the wagon of old Nathan Whitesides, ~whoxn I see here, and we will get his son, Logan, to ride for you. Logan is a first-rate rider, and has had frequent practice with 'Sorella.' lie knows her, and, which is'. quite as important, she knows him. He is on~ of the most dextrous jockeys that I know, though he seems a' simpleton. If any .one, not myself, can ibeat' 'Gray-' streak' with.' Sorella,' it is Logan Whitesides."~ The boy w~s sought, found, and employed. A few whispers in his ear, and Hammond left 'the ~parties.;~ returning to the. carriage of Mrs. 'Foster, seemingly n~o more concerned in the race than the most ir~diffe~ent spectator. 'lie resumed his seat quietly on the. box:of' the barouche, but not. before discovering That a chai4~ei' had taken place in the manner :of "k*eraldine '6ster~. She was constrained in her answers, and totally' inentiou5 about the raae.~ Not so the stepmother, who seemed' t& grow. good4iumored' ~in due degree with 'the' increased' reserve and kctuteur of 4he damsel. Hammond w&~ ~ politician; lie did not appear to discover any changes,' and spoke as qiiiet~y~ and, offered his services and' his" information as unpretendingly as ho had' done betore.'- '1 page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] 94s A~ GOOD AS~ A COMEDY O~, TilE TE1~E8SEEAN'S STORY.. '95 Uis manner was tkat of a gentleman who had nothing to ain,'~and is conscious of nothing to be lost; but who, hi'~ obedience to habitual 'training, defers' gently to the sex and shows that solicitude for the graces of society ~hidi makes one 'always willing to contribute 'to its azneIities~ It is 'not to be 'concealed, however, that he took a vantage 'of the frequent provocations afforded by Mrs.~ Foster~ to mak& himself particularly interesting. Without effort, he betrayed hi~ resources of reading and observation. ile was lively; without levity; various, without painstaking; and copious, without suffering himself to falL into. tediousness. Gradually, the ear of Geraldine inclined to his voice. She 'forgot, in his con- versation; the' reported rudeness which had vexed her pride; and, by the time th~t the preparations were. corn- p~eted for, the' main race, s.ho~was again on the seat beside him~ Mrs~ Foster had not 'calculated on 'thi~ result She wa~s chagrined to find that her' conversation had brought out new powers in their companion, which could~ not~fail' to' place: him in favarablo comparison: with his rivals; and she was too' vulgar a' woman to knowhow te repair" the 'evil ~unl~ss~ by a positive rudeness, for which she' wasp unprepar~cl, and for which she ~ould have no exouse.~. 'She ~at silent, accordingly, leavim~g the field entirely free' to. 'Hammond; who, finding Geraldine a somewhat~ pexi~ive listener beside him, adroitly addressed ~he sentiment .whicfrwas uppermost in "her thoughts,. and ~o~mArmed, still more pr~fouimdly, the impression he had m~iade~ At moments, a recollection of thb scandal which she~ had' heard ca~nrte upon her with 'a twinge; and her bros was ~nornontly' clouded, while her 1 eart sunk; but the doud passed away, and the heai~t grew lifted, as, ivatchful of every movement; yet without ~seeming' to ~ ~1axn:mnbnd tookcare so to direc& her thought from hi~niself, as4&inake the most favorableimpression of self throWgh media the most indirect. We will not attempt to' pifrsue the conversation, which. depended' upon turns 'of ~pressiofl, tones, and glances; which mere' description must afrays find indescribable. The e~citem~nt~ of.the race irtte~posed togive variety to the conversations between the pair.. Iau~niond~al16wed nothing to escape which seemed to belong to' his duties as c~cerone. ~Aware of th~ preliminaries, he ipiew~ at what moment to direct his companion's attention, to ~th~ course9 "They are hastening with their preparations for the race, Miss Foster, and if you will rise, as before, you will enjoy a good view of your favorites She is certainly a very pretty creature." "Where? Where?" and the damsel rose in her place, and again stood upon the seat above her attendant. But this time her hand did not rest upon his shoulder as before. "You see her there, lust beneath the stared of the judges. She is certainly a beautiful little thing, and comes up to the stand 'handsomely." "Then you think that she will' win ?" "It is very doubtful. She has, at least, two very formidable competitors. "The Mississippi ?-" "And 'Sorella.' ',' "Is 'Sorella' a very fast animal ?" "She was, six months ago." "I~ut now ?" "All depends upon her rider."' "What of the ugly~coated beast-.---the dowdy, crazy som.etliing'?' " She may get the first heat, but will; hardly do any~. thing in the second. She wants substance. The danger to y0ur namesake is of the same kind. She has sph~it. and fleetness, but not. sufficient endurance. Por a single mile,, she' might carry herself against' eitl~er of these horses; but these are three~mile races, which her powers can scarcely undergo. That Mississippi mare isa' model of training. I see where she stands, sleek, smooth, amid so perfectly at home; so' quiet; as if she knew her business thoroughly~ and regarded it as done. 'Sorella' has work before her." 25 4: page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] (96 45 E~OOD A~ A COMEDY: OR, "Does Mr. Ij~Iender~on ride 'Sorel2la?'" " Ne~ I haye persuaded him not t~ do so."' Geraldine was aEout to ask, the reason, when a 'nudge from her step otjier behind ~ilen~ed her; ~nd, just then, the ta~ of 2the dr~rn~ and the voic6 of authority, drew the eyes of all. parties to the starting-post. THE TENNESSEEAN"S' STORY. OJIAPTER VII. SORJ~LLA AND THE GYPSY JOCKB~. THE horses entered were but four in number. Th~s~ were, 912~ Mississippian, "Graystreak," "Crazy Kate," the "Fair Geraldine," and "Sorella." The former was now decidedly the favorite of the field, and odds were given in her behalf. Numerous bets were offered an4 taken, arid the excitement on the turf was great, and momently increasing. The "Fair Geraldine" had her backers, and so had "Crazy Kate" anct "Sorella." Bu~ the latter was little known among the regular jockeys; and, though a symmetrical and welkshaped animal, there were none of those salient characteristics in her appear- ance which are apt to take the spectator. It was seen that she was fleet; arid that she was rather bony, seemed to promise something for her hardihood. Ned Ramsey noticed her with some anxiety; and the watchful Lazy Jake Owens observed that he had a whisper e~ pas8crnt for the gentlemanly stranger who .had~ so freely taken t~ie offers of Jones Barry. But neither Ramsey nor the stranger declined any banters~ against "Graystreak ;"' their confidence in that favorite creature being tn no~ respect impaired by the presence of the new competitorr. Of course, we do not pretend to follow and describe the varieties of feeling and interest shown by the spectators. How they perilled their money, in what amount, and upon what horses; noway~ concerns our narrative. We may 1~eriVi& howeVer, that Miles llend~rsoi~ had 'a cdiuple of huiidred and a feW odd ~fi~e8 inVesWd fri the credit of his rn~re; while our friend To~i 14~ttl~. w~ pretty safe iii takitig~ th~ fi~O11 &~&iiIst th~ "P~ir'4~ral~ 9 page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 ASQOOD AS A COMEDY: 0R~ dine" and "Crazy Kate," to the tune of two or three hundred more. The examination of the horses showed them off to great advantage. "Graystreak" looked sleek, quiet, and confident, as before. "Sorella" was a meek animal also, with just such a twinkle of the eye as shows that there is no lack of spirit, with all the meekness. But the "Fair Geraldine" stripped to the survey with all the consciousness of a proud and petted beauty. She was restive and bright; a little too anxious and impatient, and carried her head with a toss which was not unworthy of her lovelier namesake. Her appearance compelled the admiration of all; and many were tempted to bet upon her beauty, who did not consider her heels. Her rid~r no*~ was Jones Barry himself. , He was really not satisfied, that Sam Perkins 'had 'not done justice to "Glaucus;" but, whether satisfied or not, nothing could possibly have prevented, him from doing as the Earl of Toteham had leen said to do at iDoncaster. ~" Your favorite is ready for the race, Miss Foster! you see'Mr. Barry takes the field in person ;" and Ham- mond pointed to the gaudy figure of that worthy, as the impatient "Geraldine" wheeled and capered beneath hha "The white is 'Graystreak,' and the blue-" ~CCra~y~Kate!" "But where is Mr. Henderson's rider?" "He mounts iiow-~that strange-looking urchin with a yelloW-spQtted bandanna, wound, 'gypsy fashion, around his head, without a jacket, with his shirt-sleeves bared to the elbow, a~d hi~ suspenders 'wrapped~ around his waist.' "What a strange-looking creature! Who is he ?" A "COne Logan 'Whitesides; a knowing lad, among horses, who ~ particularly well acquainted with 'So- y~lIa,' He~was her only rider when 'she was under train- and'~his~y~4i5Per will do more 'with her~th~ any otier. ~soms~w4~ip.". '~~' ~T4~ j~"~th~ 'h~ might' get this 'b6y that, yoi~ ' coun- THE TENNESSEflAN'S STORY. yelled Mr. Henderson not to ride himself ?" asked Geraldine, with Some interest. "Yes! I knew that' Sorella' would need every advan- tage in a contest with the Mississippi filly, and that l~Iiles was quite too heavy to run her successfully himself." Unconsciously, 'the girl looked pleased. 'Hamgiond saw the expression, and mused upon it; particularly as a querulous exclamation, at that moment, dropped from the hostile step-mother. But the proceedings of the course drew all eyes thither. All were saddled, the word was given, and away they went, like heroes, into battle. so many ambitious The start was .a successful one. The four~ horses seemed to jump off together, running side by side. for a while, as if delighting in the line and order of a platoon charge. But soon the "Fair Geraldine" led o1~ taking the track for a quarter of a' mile; "Crazy Kate" laying herself close behind, and "Graystreak" and "Sorelia" seeming to find their amusement in driving the two before them. Before the mile was two-thirds traversed, how- ever, "Crazy Kate" showed symptoms of lagging, and "Sorella" dropped her with a bound, making even' play between the "Mississippian" and the "Fair Geraldine~g' The latter continued well on, not needing any urgency of her rider, until the clattering heels ~of "Soreila" and "Graystreak," ji~st at her haunches, impelled her to an effort. She bridled up at this forwardness, and a slight smack of the whip shocked her into a still more indignant determination to leave all vulgar compsi~nion- ship behind. She went off with a rocket-like impulse, but without obtaining her object. It was now evi~ dent that the "Mississippian" was resolved to cut her off from her triumph, and her rider Was seen to apply the thong smartly to her sides. She passed, ac~ cordingly, between "Sorella" and the object ~of her am~ bition, and the next moment found her, lock a~nd lock, in affectionate embrace with the high-spirited and, aristo- cratic beauty. Yainly did the latter try to shake her off. All her efforts only served to keep the two in this position, page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 1~0o~ AS %*90P AS A comedy: OIL, ~EHE TEN~ESS13JnAN'S STORY. 101 ~w1~en, to 4e surprise of both, a shrill whistle from the r~d~r' of "Soreita" brought that mysterioi~s creature with a rush between them, and flinging the dust .h~ both their ~ace~, ~she~ass~d ~tinder the string, leaving her tail hidden between the lifted heads Qf the two emulous competitors. "Crazy Kate" darted into the allotted 'limits quite in season to saye her distance, having reserved her ~ for another brush. Thp race was a beautiful one. Th~. several merit~ of the first three horses were now fully displayed, though the extent of their powers of endurance could only b~ conjectured. They 'had evidently 'been ridden with a dQe regard to their qualities; and the ~ompe~titiPn was such as to maintain the excitement of the multitude, and to keep tlie~ in suspense till the very last moment. A ~s1~awl night ha1ve ~lapped them at ,several points in the race; and an eli of ribbon might have circled them as they darted 'beneath the string.' It was clear that judg- ments' were to be revised. "Sorella" had been under- v&lued. ' "Crazy Kate" looked better than ever, and her rider s known to be a ~rst-rate jockey; and "Gray- streak" was under the 'teaching of the ve~ry Machiavel of the Georgia ~uf~ The "'Fair Geraldine"i'ad behaved too ~han. lsomely to have lost any of her supporters; and, whether "Graystreak" had yielded the heat through policy, or actually lost it in spite 6f all his efforts, was a very doubtful question, even among the knowing ones. There was a whisper that she. seemed to complain in one of her pins; but Tom. Nettles, who examined her closely, made no such discovery. Ned Ramsey showed anxiety, however, and this was seen by "Lazy Jake Owens," aN w~ll as INettles. His personal care of Jiis horse was ex- ~rrq4a~ry, ~nd his efforts to enable her to recover and cool off, without effort, were so many studies for the ~youthful ~~i~eys whq were crowding about a~d emulous of his re- nown. Jonas Barry was by no means dissatisfied with the 4oings of his mare. She did not seem. uneasy or distre~s~4;'~PQlCd ~ff naturally and 500fl, and was ready fbr the ~econd trial in the shortest possible space. But, to have seen the affectionate care of "Sorella," which was taken by her gypsy rider-how, in addition to the usual stripping and rubbings, he wound his a~xns about her neck, kissed her as if she had been a sweetheart, and whispered all sorts of pleasant nonsense in her ears; axj~id how the filly turned to him with a knowing gesture; and how, when he stooped to rub her legs, her n6se rested.npon ~s his shoulders with a sort of human ititerest, which drew ~; crowds about the two in unaffected admiration I jtreal- ized, in some degree, the stories that we hear of the Arabian and his favorite steed. Logan Whitesides had first had his ambition lifted by his employment in the ining of "Sorella." She was a first-love to him, and it would have come nigh to break his heart had he' not achieved the victory. 'And so 'Sorella' has really won the victory?" said Geraldine to Hammond, as he returned to the ~carriage after a brief interview with Mil~s Henderson. "The heat only-a third of the victory, Miss Foster. They are now preparing fox' the second trial." "You are a witch' in horses, Mr. ilammond.' But pray what did you say in that short whisper which I saw you give to Mr. Henderson and his gypsy boy ?" Hammond laughed as he' replied the" simply'instructed him next heat." hat his policy was to 1o8e "I don't understand you-lose!" "That is, not attempt to win, but suWer it to .b~ taken by the 'Mississippian."" "And why, pray ?" "That her strength in the third heat should not be perilled by an undue effort in the second; when, as most of the other horses will put forth their best ability, she might probably peril herself for nothing." "I see, I see! But why lose to the 'Mississippian?' You say nothing of my namesake !" "Your namesake has done 'her best already." "You don't flatter, Mr. Hammond," said, the' step~ 9*. / am100 page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 AS GOOD A$ A cGM1~DY: OR~ mother; '.' I do believe you have a spite against that ani- ""0 no, Mrs. Foster! I'm sure you believe"~no such thing. 'She is a sweet and beautiful creature, who will ~ aJI tIi4 is in he~' power. lit is her piisfortune that ~ier powers are overtasked. Mr. Barry expects too much froxq. her. He does' not overrate her fleetness, but lie errates Ler ~endui~nce; ~nd he will distress, and pr.oba~ bly injure' her, before the race is over. So far from 'a spite against her, I sympathize witliher, and if I could, '~onld gladly save her from the hard work which is before lIi'll never believe but you have a spite against You in any horse on the ground iut her. I'd like tosee you run your own; but I suppose it would reqtiire something more than a woman's entreaties to persuade you to that." There Was something in the tQne with which these words were spoken, not less than the words themselves, which grated offensively on th~ ears of the person ad- 4ressed; bnt he remained silent, and in a few moments the p~ep~rati6ns f~r the second heat enabled him to divert the converSatiQfl to a~riothe'r channel. i~t the sig- nal given by the drum, Geraldi4e again stood upon the seat of the carriage, an eager spectator of the 'issue. The word~ was given, and the start was again beautiful; the four steeds seeming to lap each other, whirling &wa~y for a while, in a sort of linked movement, which' showed them all as if locked together in mutual relationship. "Crazy Kate" and "Geraldine" were soon again in the lead, as if by mutual consent between "Sorella" and "G~aysti~eak ;" 'swinging forward by the groups of spec- tators, 'the' wagons audi the tables, east and west, 'as. if waltzing with wings at both feet and shoulders. Merrily did they glide away, leaving a space of thirty feet or more b~twe~n their competitors, who appeared perfectly ~ neither, yet enabled them to keep always within speaking 'distance of the lively' things in front. Thus trailing for I TR~ T]~NNES5~EAN S STOR~. 10$ the ~rst mile and better, they suffered the game to be played by other bands, only piping moderately to the 'uw sic. But soon the "'Mississippian" began t~ grow restive under restraint, and to put forth a much more arnbitiou~ leg than he had hitherto shown. He lifted away from "$orella~" and was soon upon the heels of the two ahead. A few bounds enabled him to separate the links between them, and to throw himself 'towards the back stretch of the second mile, between "Crazy Kate" and her i~iir conipetitor. "Sorella" made a similar push forward, and soon overcame the, space ~ihich kept her from the embrace of "Crazy Kate' ;" but' whether it was that the latter was less tempting than the beauty with the beauti~ ful name, she did not prolong the te~te-a-t6te with her,, but hurried forward to ~ more select meeting with the "Fair Geraldine;" perhaps it was a feelingof sympathy~ which, at this moment, prompted the latter to 'forego h~ exertions, and loiter for the coming up' of one who sought her so closely. Meanwhile, the ambitious maid of Mis~ sissippi darted ahead of all opponents, and, with so few tokens of civility, as to provoke the emuiou~ efforts of the two nearest riders. Jones Barry w~is seen to apply the whip with unlind severity of hand, to the tender flanks of his favorite; while the gypsy boy who rode "Sorella" appeared to urge her forward with the utmost seeming anxiety, but without the use of any"weap'on. It was now perceived that the "Fair~Geraldine," as if under a feeling of degradation, no longer lifted a hopeful and exulting head, nor tossed pridefully her luxuriant mane. That she began to droop was evident to the spectators, while the repeated' strokes of the lash, from her rider, betrayed his own consciousness of 'a~~ fact which he was quite unwilling to believe. ~These exertions still gave her headway for awhile, but it was, at the expense, of her heels. She gradually relaxed after' 'these efforts, and soon had the fortificationn to fincL" Sorella" quietly work~ ing ahead, as they both stretched through the first quar~ ter of the third mile. Hammond saw~ with satisfaction, that, while the boy who rod~ "~Sorel1a" ~ppeared. to page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, labor anxiously, he used no whip, or only appeared to do so, while the beast lifted her legs freely, and set them down as if on velvet. The crowd, who knew nothing of his game, now looked upon it that she shared the ex- haustion of "geraldine," and were quite deceived by the arts of her rider. Even Ramsey himself counted upon him as a horse "done brown ;" and whispered to Lazy Jake Owens that the race was won. But Lazy Jake was no slouch at an opinion either, in the matter of horse- flesh; ~and he answered, in the common proverb of war- ring in the South: "Don't whoop before you're out of the wood." But this heat was decided. The "Mississip- pian~' had shown the cleanest heels, taking the track from all. It was observed that "Sorella," after once or twice yielding the lead to the "Fair Geraldine," now changed the figure~ entirely, and hastened forward so as to throw herself within a few decent bounds of "Graystreak," as the latter passed in under the string, the final victor of the heat. The native spirit of" Geraldine" did not suffer her to fall behind very far, though it was evident to all good judges that the game with her was u~ for the da~r; while "Crazy Kate" enjoyed to herself the Irishman's fun of driving all the rogues before her. Of the three winning horses, "Sorella" was the only one who hadbeen economized, and the excellence of her jockey enabled her to keep' this important fact a secret.' A couple of' lengths between her and "Graystreak, and twice the number between her and "Geraldine," left the minds of th&miiltitude still in that condition of doubt in regard to ~'the future which makes equally the interest of race and story. The betting parties were still hopeful; for, even where their favorites had not won, they came so near it, with the exception of "Crazy Kate," as to leave nothing certain in the chapter of coming events. Well rubh~ed and' groomed, three' horses showed them- selves for the third' time upon the track. "'Crazy Kate" has withdrawn in dudgeon, in consequence of the mani- fest neglect with which her companions have treated her performances. Her backers have sullenly yielded up TflE TENXS$EEA~'s STORY. i~5 their tjn to the niwierous friends of the "Mississippian;" while Ramsey, and the unknown gentleman, have been reminding numerous persons of certain fi4~es, tens, t~&n- ties, and hundreds-including our, friend Jones Bar4ry-.- which they unwisely perilled on the heels of .a fem~nin~ creature avowedly non eompo8. This pleasant little episode greatly relieved th~ otherwise tedious interval between the second and the last heat. The "Fair Gerald- ine" seemed to have recovered her fQrrner spirits, as she came once more upon the turf; and, with the word "Ge," she led oW, "solitary and alone," as she had been ambitious to do on all previous occasions. But, &fte~i' the first half mile, both the "Mississippian" and "3orella" seemed disposed to make play., and to show that both had heels of wing and steam when the exigency was at hand. It was clear, however, that the two latter waited for each other. They knew the real adversary, and knew exactly when to terminate that deference for the beauty who now led them which, it was evid had yielded r4laer througE policy than ent, they admiration~ A8 the first mile was overcome, they gradually swalloy~red space, taking the wind completely out of the sails of "Geraldine," passing On each side of her, and closing up,, as if an~i~us for the track. Barry at once put on steam with a heavy hand, but no application to the flanks, in the case of one so tender, could possThly fur- nish the legs with the proper facility for fligiw. The beauty wanted age for endurance. "Send me no more boys," said Napoleon to the government at home: "they only fill the hospitals."' The tender years of" Gerald- me," her delicate training, were adverse to her soldier- ship. Fan~ous at a charge, she cou1~d not stand the campaign. The two veterans, better fortified by muscle and training, of better bottom and not less speed, soon forged ahead, and left her painfully to struggle up the hill alone. "Graystreak" was evidently girdling up her loins for the last great effort. She felt the necessity of putting all her soul into her heels, as she felt that ~she had a sterling customer beside her, one who took a deep page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] THE TENN~SSEEA~'S STORY. 107 106 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, shot, and, loved long reckonings. There were bone, and muscle, and speed, to be overcome, and she had a pride and reputation at stake, to say nothing of the hundreds which our friend Jones Barry no doubt found cool' enough by this time. There was evident mischief in the "Missis- rnppian." Her rider glared round, in his whit~ uniform, at the queer little gypsy rogue who kept tenaciously with him, neck and neck, as if measuring their mutual strength for the last great struggle. It was neck or nothing with them both. Both were resolute to do, or die. The gypsy rogue seemed to crouch, at moments, in his saddle, as if to take the leap of a cougar on the fox, and his heels would sink slightly into the sides of his creature, as if embracing her with a love which found all its pleasures in hers. Side and side they rode, un- til, in the eyes of the distant spectators, they seemed to resolve themselves into a single man 'and horse. The struggle was desperately close. It was your purse or mine, as they darted eagerly towards the last quarter stretch, leaving the wind behind them, and seeming' to whiz along through air, as a bullet from the cannon. "The bravest held his breath for a time." The multi- tude pressed forward along the track. Mouths were open wide with expectation; eyes dilating beyond their orbs, with' delight and anxiety. "How beautiful 1" exclaimed Geraldine Foster, as she grasped the arm' of Hammond. "Beautiful!" said Hammond, naturally enough, as he gazed into her eyes. We dare not look with him while the struggle is thus at its height. The jockey on "Gray- streak" now made tremendous efforts; his eye fixed on the stubborn little, gypsy, a~ if to note the opening for an advantage. Neck and neck they still clung together, and but a few more bounds were necessary to the final ~chievemei~t~ "Wliitejacket" gathered himself up for the last~issue, and, rising in his stirrups, with the whip keen- ly and rapidly administered, he raised the head of "Graystreak" for the final bound beneath' the line., But "Nojacket," our little gypsy, knew'his moment 'also. He gave no whip; he rose' not in the saddle; but ciouch- ing, rather, and clinging upon her neck, he whispered a word, a single word, in the ear of "Sorella," and the noble Arabian went out of the lock in a way to make an arrow wonder. By a single head, she passed ahead of her resolute competitor; and, as her ~triumph was be- held, the big, swollen heart of the multitude relieved itself by a shout that shook the field. Then our gypsy.. jockey dropped from his creature, and seized her about the neck, kissing her once more as passionately as the lover, for the first time successful. He felt the triumph as much more precious than he did the "cool. hundred," one of the several that had been transferred on this oc- casion from the pockets of the wealthy J7ones Barry to those of other people, with which' Miles' Henderson rewarded him for his riding. Then might the multitude' be seen following, the horses-horse and rider-with ex- ultation and 'admiration. Our gypsy' was, next to his horse, the wonder of the field. The' boys scampered after him as their hero, while the negroes, everywhere exclaiming as he came, pointed him out to their grinning companions, as "Dat little Login Whitesides; da's a debjAe hese'f~, for ride !" Glory is a thing of 'various complexions; and our little friend Logan 'was quite as well satisfied, no doubt, with the negro form of compli..' ment, as with that which issued in rounded periods from more polished lips. Let us now look to other parties. page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] 1YO8 A$ G~OOD AS A co1~EDY: OR, CHAPTER VIII. THE GANDER TOURNAMENT. THE. exc~ilent lady, Mrs. Foster, was quite dissatisfied at the result of the race.' Perhaps she might have been still more so, had the victory been obtained by" Fer- 'raunt," instead of "Sorella;" by the horse of Hammond in place of' that of his friend. She did not conceal her mortifi-cation, which vented itself in expressions of strong sympathy with Jones Barry, even in the presence of his conqueror. 'He, however, either was, or affected to be, wholly indifferent to the result. He had. various excuses for the defeat,' which he could- ascribe to any and every- thii~g, always excepting his mare's ability and his own riding. " I'll go you a thousand any day, Miles Henderson, on 'Geraldine,' against 'Sorella.' I know what- 'my mare can do. But she wasn't groomed properly. That little rascal Sam Perkins would give her w~t~r, though I told him not; and lie girt her ~n so tightly, that the poor thing could hardly draw a decent breath." "And you're a little too heavy for your mare, Barry," added Nettles; 'who, having pocketed a clever share of the money of the other, could afford to do the amiable. "There's something in that," was the admission of - Barry. "2But, Tom, didn't I ride her beautiful ?" "You can ride," was the liberal acknowledgment of the other, with just the sort of emphasis and look, in the right place, to render the admission satisfactory. Meanwhile, Henderson and Hammond had both been conversing with the' ladies; though the latter could not but perceive that Geraldine manifested, in his case, a more than usual degree of reserve and distance. He THE TENNESSEEAI'CS STc$RY. i0~l was not long at a loss to what influence to ascribe this deportment, since Mrs. Foster, though outwardly civil, was yet not altogether capable 9f §u~pressing all ~shows of that spirit by which -she was secretly animated to- wards him. True, however, to his maxim, he betrayed no particular concern, but was only the more studio~ to overlook none of the formal and becoming c&urtesies which society had established as proper from t-he,6ne~sex to the other. lIe was not only, scrupulously polite and attentive, but particularly. grateful and ~spirited. His conversation rose in force and aijimation with the- Con- sciousfiess of his equivocal position.; Iaad' the vivacity and freedo~a. of his ~din1ogue. and- manner were only re~. strained' by an overruling resolution to per~r4t -to bum. self no such- liberties as' might iwur cen~ure1oiKpro~vok~ offence. He played the diplomat with. a ra-re excellence; and Mrs." FQster. leaned' back. in The carriage, heartily vexed 'with a person whom she longed t~o w6und, yet who gave her no advantage; and who, in ~spite ;~f sail her malice, still contrived%~ seemingly -witho.u~~ 'exert~9Ir~ ~to win the ears, and compel the sympathies of h&prot~g~.- The carriage,' meanwhile, was got' in readiness; the horned were geared in, 'and the lady proceeded to invit& the gentlemen to return with her todinner. ll~unrn~nd and Uender~on declared, their pleasure in escorting the ladies home; -while Jones Barry ~and. Nettles excused themselves 'by alleging that, with them,' the busines~- of the day was very . ~far from 'being over. There were several races yet to' be- run. "0laucus'~ was again to try his 'heels against some, other snags, which were~ yet to be brought forward; jand there' ~wa~s to be a "scrub" race -for s~eepstakes,- in which more than twenty horses had been already entered. The' interests, of Kettles~ in these events, 'though he ran no 'h&rs~. himself 'Was-:not less ~great than.- that of, Jones Barry, while -'l~i~- -profits were likely to be much grCater. ' ' - "Besides," says Barr-y; I' there's the circus,- Mrs. Foster, the~ eire~s;" -andhe rubbed: his, hands.- "'And 'I never -saw-the circus in ~yIife.~ I'm told th0y do ~il '10 page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] 110 AS GOOD A$ A COMEDY OR, 8QrtS of things. There's a man there that jumps through .th~ eye of needlee" "Oh, Mr. Barry, how can you believe such non- sense?" "It's true, by the pipers! here's the advertisement; here's the picture itself; the man and the needle." "As large as. life I" said Nettles. And IBarry pulled out of his pocket one of those enor- mous bills of the circus, which one sees at times; in the South and West, covering the sides of a court-house. As he heid it up, it fairly covered him from head to foot. "I don't s~e why he shouldn't jump through the eye of such a needle,~ Mr. Barry'; the needle seems a great deal larger than the man." 4 ~t dLoes" said Barry. "Oh I "but that's only to show it to the people, Miss Geraldine,; that's only the~picture; for I saw the needle, the real needle itself ~ and 'I assure you that it's not much larger. than those you ladies.work with. lit isn't exactly a cambric needle, II grant you; but then again, it's nothing near like a bagging~needle." "You saw it, Tom ?" asked Barry. "To be sure I.did !" was thereply. "And. you believe, Mr., II3arry, that . any man could go tb~6ughisuch a needle.?" queried Mrs. Foster. "I don't 'see. how he can," sajc1~ the other, gravely; "it wouldL break out tlae. eye." A roar of~Iaughter fr.om Henderson followed this ora- oiilar opinion, of which Miss Geraldine herself indulged Foster" I in a moderatee imitation. Mrs. ay back in the carriage, frowning and mortified. Nettles continued:- "But that's not all.; the clown who goes through the needle iincorks'a bottle with his eye, sets fire to a wheel- rocket with iis.'whiskers, and afterwards sWallows his own heads" I Tim," says Barry, "that won't do!' No- body can make me believe that. It may be that he coul4 draw a. cork ~with' his eye; and, as for setting off wheelroek~t5' with his whiskers, that, 11 suppose, isn't TFE TENNESSRflA~T's$Touy. , Ill altogether impossible; but l1'll be d~-~--d if 11 believe a word about swallowing his own head. Swallowing his own head! Why, who the deuce could ever think of do- ing sueli a thing?. Oh no, Tom Nettles; that ~cock won't '~ght! . it's likely he may ~make a show of doing something of the kind, by sleight of hand. "Of mouth, rather. "Well, mouth then; but 31 l~n.ow it's all m~ke b'iieve -don't you think s~, Mrs. Foster ?"' ~' I don't think about it, 'Mr. Barry. It's all trick and humbug. #Jircuses are all vulgar places. 'I. 'have no interest in them." ~F Vulgar! why, Lord bless you, Mrs. Foster, the whole country's to b~ there. l9on'V yon see the car- riages ~o~ning in already ?" There'll be .~ matter of t4mree hundred ladies; I reckon.". "Ladies, indeed !" said the lady. "Perhaps so, sir. We sha'n't be among them, however. 'Scipio," to 'the driver, "are you ready ?~' "All ~'eady, ma'amn." "Well,' Mr. Barry, ~re~ leave you. 'Mr. Nettles, we shall always be glad to see you at the lodge. , Gentle- men," to Hammond and Henderson, "do you still keep your purpose of riding' with 'us, or have, the charms of the clown, as 'we have heard them described, persuaded you to think better of it, and stay for the circus ?'~~ "If one could be' sure that the clown ~wonld act ho- nestly, and really make a gulp of his own head," mused Hammond, with gravity. Barry looked up bewildered, his mouth wide open, as Nettles proceeded to. assert that the thing was really done in a most lifelike and natural mannerr; though~ as the clown reappeared always the next day with his head on, looking quite as well as usual~ he concluded,~ with his friend Barry, thatit was only "make believe," mere sleight of hand or ~mouth, the cleVer trick ~of a clever juggler-" though," added the speaker, with admirable gravity, "it certainly takes in everybody-everybody believes' ~ page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] I 112 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, "Drive on, Scipi&,"" ~aid the lady, imperiously; a~ if anxious to escape from the confiding, yet dubious gaze~ of Barry. The carriage whirled away, Hammond and Hender- son taking' opposite sides, the former beside 'the window near which Geraldine sat, while his friend was thepar- ticular escort~ of the mother. We will leave them on their homeward progress,~and return to our companions, Jones~ Barry and Tom Nettles. These two worthies at ~on~e proceeded with proper diligence to business~ Under the counsel of the latter, Barry employed, as the rider of "Glaucus," the' little gypsy, who had lifted "Sorella" so handsomely over the track ~ and the result was an improvement in the events of the contest. But it is not our purpose to pursue the history of the turf at Hillabee. Ours is not a racing calendar, and we must leave such histories to those who are more perfect in the history of the stud. It is enough that we say that the day continued one of .great excitement to the close. Some small winnii~gs, at the winding up, served somewhat to consoTh Barry for his heavier losses; and he ~was rendered particularly happy, as Torn Nettles introduced him to a 'couple of the chief men of the circus, by 'whom he was in- vited into the hippodrome itself, and permitted, while yet the' day lasted, to behold the vacant scene upon which such wonders were so' soon to be enacted. lie was particularly anxious' to get a sight of the clown; but did not express his desire; as he felt that one who was destined so shortly to swallow his own head might very naturally desire tohave all the interval to himself, that he might~ prepare himself for the' impending ~atas- trophe. 'Here, ~a table being spread e~tempore, some cold baked meats were brought forth from a' curtained interior; and, with the help of a ham and a loaf, iyhich Nettles gathered from the booths of on'e of his acquaint- ance, and a stout quart-decanter of' French brandy, which the equestrians h~d brought with them, Jones Barry was very soon 'reconciled to the absence of the THE TENI~ES8EEAN'S STORY, 118 ladies. The decanter was soon emptied and repler~isl~ed, and thisin time disappearing, the place was occupied by a couple of bottles of tolerable wino. Nettles was fond of strong drink, but he bad oni~ of those indurated heads which could bear* any degree of soaking without betraying their owners. Jones I3arry was much less of ~t veteran, :though he loved good liquors, after a gentle- manly fashion. J~nough, however, that, before he left the table, he had become c4ptious and somewhat unruly; and it was only by adroit management that Nettles could conduct him' out of 'the taberuade, so ~as to afford to the manager an opportunity for preparing for the performance of the nights In the open air, Barry was more manageable, though it required an additional 'sup~ ply of stimulus to keep his stomach from entire suhjii-. gaiion to the hostile power which he had thrown into the territory. Nettles was not unwilling to indulge him.' lie was a fellow of fun, and found his capital in this excellent subject. He had set out to enjoy a spree, and he was resolved to make a night of it. An hour's wandering about the encampment, f~r such had ~he race- course at ilillabee become for the occasion, and there were a thousand ways for getting up and' letting off steam, to employ the slang phraseology, of the region. Wagons were to be upset, drunk en men stripped, the tails and manes of horses cropped; these, with other practices, in which the humorists were quite as "rough as ready," 'servedtobeguiletheinterval between thecloseofthe' race and the opening of the circus. But it wa~ the fortune of Jones Barry to make himself conspicuous. in a more important enterprise. The wanderings of our companions in search of adventures led them, with a crowd of otjiers, to an amphitheatre, 4out three hun- dred yards from the race-course, where they witnessed a sport in progress, to which it seemed that all they had hitherto beheld was mere ~childs-play, tame, and spiritless. This was a" aander-pu~1ling !" Reader, do ~you know what a gander-pulling is? If you do not, it is quite as well that you should, form some 10* / page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] 11.4 AS ~0OD AS 'A COMEDY: OR, / idea of the sources of pleasure to the purely vulgar and u~jcultivated 'nature. Man is undoubtedly a beast, un- less you, contrive some process for making him a gentle- man; and there is no question but that,, as he has a natural appetite for recreation and pleasure, if you do not contrive for him such as will not be unacceptable to the Deity, the devil ~will m6re liberally provide with such as will make the man acceptable only to himself. aander-pulling, accordingly, is one of those sports which a cunning devil has contrived to gratify a human beast It appeals to his skill, his agility, and strength; and is therefore in some degree grateful to his pride: but, as it exercises these qualities at the expense of his humanity, it is only a medium by which his better qua- lities are employed a~ agents for his worser nature. Gander-pulling has been described as a sort of tourna- ment on~ horseback; the only difference is that the knight has a goose for his opponent, instead of a per- son like himself. The man is mounted on horseback, while the goose is mounted 'upon poles. ~These poles, or saplings, are thrust firmly~ into the ground, some twelve feet apart; but they are united' by a cord at the top, which hangs loosely; while, pendent from the ex- tremity, the living gander is fastened by the legs. Here he swings his head; hanging downwards just above the path, 'between the two~ saplings, and just high enough to be within ~reach of the man on horseback. The achievement of the rider is to run his horse; at fall sj~'eed, at the 'bird, and, gr~spi~g~ him by the neck, to wring his hea4 off as he passes on~ This is not so easy a performance. The neck of the' gander has been pre- viously stripped of; all its feathers, and has then been thickly coated with grease or oil. Nothing can be made ~moro slippery; and, shining and warming in the sun, the glitterhig ~neck of the unhappy bird looks like that of a young boa, for the first ~time practising from the bough, under which he expects the rabbit or the rat to glide. To increase the difficulty of the exploit, and to prevent any unfair delay in the approach of the assail- THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY~ 115 ant, four men are stationed, armed with flails of hickory, on each side of the 'track, and at proper intervals. These, as the 'horse approaches, lay their hickories, upon 'his flanks; and so unmercifully, as not only to make him go headlong forward, but frequently to make him bolt the track in order to escape such unfriendly treatment. The course is laid out on the exterior of a circle sogie two hundred feet in 'diameter; which circuit the~ rider must necessarily make before reaching the goose, 'st~rt- ing 'from He is not a post which is properly watched by judges. expected to go at full speed except when with- in twenty yards of the game. ' Thus guarded, the vic- tim is not so easily decapitated. It is only the expe- rienced horseman, and the experienced sportsman, who can possibly succeed in the endeavor. Young beginners, who look on the achievement as rather easy, are con- stantly baffled; many find it 'impossible to keep' the track; many lose the saddle, and, even where they suc- ceed in passing beneath the saplings' without disaster, they either fail altogether in grasping the goose, which 'keeps a constant fluttering and screaming; or, they find it impossible to retain 'their grasp, at full speed, 'upon the greasy and eel-like neck and head which they have seized. Meantime, their failure is by no means sauce for the gander. 'The tug,. from which he at 'length escapes, makes him feel excessively uncomfortable while it lasts. The oil without does not protect him' from~ se- vere sore-throat within. ' His voice becomes hoarse, with screaming; and, long before his head is fairly off, he has lost those nicer sensibilities which teach him exactly how the event took place. The beating and bolting; ~f the horses, the emptying of the saddles, the failures of the pullerss," the 'screams, and wild wixrg-flapping of the bird-these constitute the glory of the entertain- ment; every point in the ~tilting being watched with eager anxiety, and announced' with screams and yells from the multitude, which form no bad echoes to the cries of the' goose. ~So ~much~ for the sport in general.' It had been sortie page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] 116 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, TI{E TE~TN~$SEEA~T'5 STORY. lIT time in~ progress, when Nettles and Jones Barry drew i~igh. The moment the latter beheld the scene, he at once declared himself the man to. take the gander's head. Nettles w~ very far from discouraging him from an ad-~ venture which promised fun; the more particularly as his .companion, if not absolutely drunk, was, as they phrase it in Mississippi, "in a state of betweenity,' 'i. e. neither drimk nor sober. A dozen had already tried their hands~ without success; but, evidently, to the per- fect disquiet of the gander. There he swung aloft; his wings flapping furiously at intervals, and., every now and then, his throat pouring forth a sharp sudden scream, the nioment he become conscious of a horse in motion. Barry fixed his eyes upon the shining neck, and shook his hands at the bird, the fingers spreading out, like claws as lie pried to the victim: "Here's the claws that'lJ have you off~ my beauty! You're shining there for me! Who goes a JZ" against Jones Barry? Who, I say? ]iiet him show himself, and be - It is to the credit of Nettles that, though willing to see the fun, he would not suffer his companion to be fleeced. He interposed, that his bets should be trifles only, though, in this friendly interposition, he incurred the deni~nei~tions of the person whom he saved. Al- ready had he paid for his "matriculation," and little Logan White~ides was dispatched for "Glaucus ;" for, though fuddled, Barry was not prepared to employ the "Fair Geraldine," his favorite, for such ignohie pur- poses. "iLurrah for Jones Barry," said Ben Burg; "lie ain't tQo proud to jin~ in the pleasures of the poor man!'~' "Lt'e's jest drunk enough for any sort of pleasure, poor ar rich," was the comment of Lazy ~Jake Owens. "I'll lay you a quarter, Jake," said Burg, "that he'll take the, gander." "That'll be because he's near kin to him, then." "If he do~," said a third, "it'll be owing to his, liquor, lie couldn't do it sober." "Shall we go a quarter on him ?" said Burg'; a con- scientious feeling prompting him to vindicate, to this extent, the ability of a person from whom he had con- trived to borrow a couple of half eagles but a few hours before. "Make it a half'~, Burg." "D~o-n-e !" said the latter, ~rather slowly. The vulgar look with respect, even while they sneer, at the doings of those above them in 'fortune or position. It was the fortune of Jones Barry to provoke a sensa- tion always among this clasr~ of people. They watdied and waited his movements. ,The gander obtained a brief respite, while the boy went for "Glaueus".-.. settled down into, a droopii~g quiet, and hushed for a period his screams. Our sprightly little gypsy was not long before appearing with the horse. He was ready saddled and bridled for the heat, and' it was with more ambition than agility that our hero contrived to vault into' the seat. Then it wa~ that the uproar grew. ~" Hurrah for Barry !" cried Nettles, at the top of his voice. "Who goes a picayune against'Barry ?" "Done, with you, 'Squire Nettles." "And here's another! lie's no niore the chap to take off a gander's head than I am to put 'it on." "Hurrah for .Lhe captain !" cried Burg.' "You may hurrah till your throat aches, but that goose will never catch that gander," was the unseemly echo of Lazy sake Owi~ns. A hundred 'voices joined in tlie s~iouting. The boys rolled, and roared, and tumbled, throwing the dust up fifty fee.t in air, as the knight of the goose prepared to make his passage at arms. The men with the flails did not need to use their hickories. J3arry came~ on at full speed, and, amidst shouts of congratulation, he kept his horse steadfast along the track, aiid through the sap~ lings, from whose united tops the gander was suspended. The bird flounced and shrieked, flapping hi~ wingss With immense violence. Barry, dropping his bridle in 'his M6 117 page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] 118 ~s QOWAS A COMEDY~ OR, excitement, threw up both hands, and~grasped, not the goose, bnt the rope by which it was suspended9 The horse passed instantly from under him, and, for a mo- zuant, he hung in air, the wings of ~the gander playing the devil's tattoo rather rapidly upon his face, breast, and shoulders. It was but for an instant, hoWever. The cord, calculated to sustainn one goose only, broke under de4de weight, and down came the pair together, the gander uppermo~t~. Never' had snch p~ scene been wit-. nessed before, ~w th~ whole annals of gander-pulling, even from the first dawn of its discovery among 'our r~pe~an ancestors,. Th~ field rang with shouts of merri- men:t; ~ most royal delirhim seized upon the republican. $ome rolled on the a~rth in convulsions; some clapped their hands and shouted; while the boys shot off their guns, t~ the great confusion and disorder of horseflesh. ~arry rose half-stunned and thorQughly bewildered. The gan&er had revenged himself on our luckless adventarer for &ll the assaults he had himself sustained, his wings had been busy, from the first moment of their encounter and fall, to that when the parties were sepa- rated, and chiefly upon the face of our hero. iRis cheeks were scraped rather than scratched; his nose and mouth were bleeding. his ~shirt bosom was equally. torn and soiled, and his hair was lifted in as much disorder as was Job's when he beheld the vision of the night. settles ~eame to his relief, and had his face washed, while little T~ogan Whitesides ran after and recovered the horse "Glaucus." Ludicrous as had been the scene, and much beyond any that the niultitude had expected, they were still, now that the first burst of merrn~ieflt was over, in no mood to lose their usual fun. ~JI~he gauder was r&hoisted, newly greased, and set aloft, dreamingg with new disquiet as he ~r~ose in air. There were twenty gallant youngsters all ready to un- dertake the feat at which Jones ll3arry. had so inglo~ riously failed; but a proper courtesy required that he should be permitted to recover his laurels. But when the thing was proposed to him, he shook his head. lie ~E~HE TENI{ESSEEAN'S STORY. 119 had not quite recovered from the unavoidable' c&rifusion of ideas Which resulted from the twofold influence of the cognac and the concussion. "No,~ I think not," said he. "Goose, eh! Nettl~s; we've had dinner." Such was the seemingly inconse- quential reply; in which, however, Kettles detected the latent meaning. "Yes," said he, "and ate very heartily, both of us; why should we want the goose ?" "Shall we go, Tom'?" asked Barry, sobering by de~ grees, and feeling rather shain4a~ced. "No !" said the other ; "here's Meredith's wagon. He keeps good liquor; we'll take a consoler" And they went aside together to the wagon, where they both ob- tained an apple~toddy~ the saccharine pr6peii~ty being derived from the best mountain honey, while the apple~ brandy was as good as ever filled up the corn~rows. ~,t election time'. Barry felt better after the beverage, and the two returned, to the gander-tournament together. The game was already resumed and in full blast. Three or four assailants had been baffled. IRut they usnailly came up a second and a third time to the scratch. The only discouraging circumstance which finally arrested their efforts being the repeated. charges for new entries. Th~e gander Was on~ of fortunate fates; his owner was delighted to perceive that the.. instincts of the bii4d enabled him to a~~icipate the moment of danger,. and to exercise his most rapid movements, j~i~t as the grasp was made upon his neck. He eluded several fingers; but some clutched him,. and the "scrag" paid severely from the jerk which followed, ev~n though it finally slipped from the gripe of the enemy. But Ins voice was suffering, and his action was greatly diminiske4~ It was then that Kettles found himself plucked by the sleeve, and drawn aside by our gypsy boy, Logan 'White- sides. "Well! what now~ Logan ?" "Why, Squire, ef you'll only ax the capper to let me page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, ride 'Gloccus' at the gander, I'm a thinking I can ease off that head thar, ef 'twas never done afore." Nettles found it no ditlicult matter to persuade Barry, and almost the next assailant of the goose was our urchin. lie certainly looked less like one to "ease off the head" than those who had 'preceded~ him. He was the smallest of all the adventurers; rode squat, with a stoop, doubling up. like a frog or monkey on the leap. But if he lacked in size, he was possessed of rare agili- ty. He was all wire and 'spring; and, a Thot not gene-~ rally known, he had been trained to the sport in another county, and when much younger. His ability in riding we have 'already seen. Nettles was a ju~lge of boys as well as horses. "Who covers an K against little Logan Whitesides." "I'll. do that same," cried Lazy Jake Owens, and there were other customers for similar amounts. Net- tles soon found that he had nearly a hundred. upon the fate of the gander. It was not long in suspense. Go ahead, Logan 1" was the cry of Nettles. The boy obeyed him. The '.boys rushed after their hero with a shout. He himself shouted, and the de- scending flails of the men of hickory scarcely grazed the haunches of the fleetly-hurrying "Glaucus." In a moment, he had reached the foot of the scaffolding from the top.. of which hung ~the victim. The bird uttered tremendous screams, and flapped his wings wide and heavily. Then' could the gypsy boy b&seen to crouch, then to shoot'upwards like an arrow, arid the next mo- ment he was through the saplings, hearing aloft the head, windpipe, and all of the gander but his body;- the segregated throat continuing -to pour scream upon scream, convulsively, as the urchin waved the ~head of the bird in triumph over his own. The field shook with the uproar of it~ejoicing, and little Logan Whitesides pro- mised to become the hero of the county. He won not a little in more solid coin than praises. He too had his bets abroad, and was calling in his fips and picayunes, his bits and quarters, from & ~considerable space around TilE TENNESSREAN'5 STORY.' 121. him; while Nettles, with equal satisfaction, was remind~ ing sundry of his neighbors of a certain handsome letter of the alphabet whose name was X. harry, too, was in a high state of exultation, for was it not his "Glau. cus" by ~whom the victory was won? 11 page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. I2~ 122 A~ GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, CHAPTER IX. HOW THE HERO OF THE CIRCUS MAY SWALLOW HIS OWN OR HIS NEIGHBOR'S HEAD. - ALTOGETHER, the events. of* the day had not tended to soothe. the humors nor satisfy the self-esteem of Mr. Jones Barry. The 'first excitement over, by which even the defeated may be temporarily sustained, he began to reflect~ upon his losses. His favorite mare had been discredited; and though "Glaucus" had retrieved in the sweepstakes the honor which he might have been supposed to have forfeited in the first races, * this could in no respect compensate for the defeat of the ' Fair Geraldine," coupled as was this defeat with the loss of several "cool hundreds." It was in due degree with the increasing soberness of Barry, that he began thus moodily, to meditate events. The conflict with the gander, which had left him with a head and neck quite as sore as his moral feelings, had somewhat subdued his vanity; and he really began to think, as people had long since begun to say, behind his back, that he had been making a great fool of himself. Reflections such as these, were they allowed to continue, would probably almost always result in the improvement of the indi- vidual. But, in the case of weak persons, who have been Nacdustomed to avoid and escape such reflections, and whom fortune and circumstances enable to do so, ~t is scarcely possible for such a mood of mind to continue long. There are always some good-natured friends in every fooPs circle, to 'assist in keeping him a fool; and, by interposing at moments when self-esteem is beginning to be rightly humbled, they succeed in silencing the officious monitor, either by well'.sugared falsehoods and specious flatteries, or by doing what, our excellent sports.. man, Tom Nettles, conceived it proper for him to do on the present occasion.~ He saw, as the effects of theapple- toddy subsided, that Jones Barry was about to sink into sullenness, which he regarded as a sort Of stupidity; and he knew but one specific in all such cases, and that Was to repeat the dose which had been found already so effectual; they stopped, accordingly, at a wagon on which they saw co barrel and were nspicuous a pine sa;pling above a soon gratified with the beverage they sought. The spirits of Barry rose with the draught. The effect was so pleasant that another was called for, and, by the time that the two had reached the entrance of the hippodrome, our brave gander-puller avowed himself as expert a rider on double horses as any fellow in the circus. "It's true I've never seen 'em,, Tom," said he, "but I've heard of them often enough. Joe Smith used to tell me of what he'd seen in Savannah and Augusta. Now, Joe used to say of my riding, I was fit to be ii~ the circus. For a cool hundred now, I'd ride against the crack fellow of this company, who, I suppose, is7 n~ great shakes, and by -, if they~ give me a chance to-night, I'll challenge the whole kit and boiling 6f em. "Oh, you be k-----d, Barry," said the other, irre~re- rently: "you are the greatest brag I ever heard. Ib@ yourself alone, and don't be trying to be everything. You're quite enough as you are. You are a good-look- ing little fellow." "Little !". exclaimed Barry: "By gracious, Nettles, I'm as good a man as you are, any day." "So you are, but not as big !" "Little! But I don't suppose you' meant any insult, Nettles, for you said 'good-looking too.'" "So I did! :1 say; you're a devilish good-looking little fellow; you're rich; and have everything you Want. You can ride, though you~'~e, quite too heavy for 'Geraldine.' page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] TIlE TENNESSEEAN'8 STORY. 12~ 124 AS GOOD AS A QOMEPY: OR, "Vet yow say I'm little." "Yes, little and not light. You see, you're a sort of chunk of a fellow, with more girth than legs, and a beetle. too ambitious for your weight, Jones." "You're iiiighty plain spoken, Tom." "Why yes; friends have a privilege, you know." ".0 yes-fo be sure; but look you, Torn, I feel mon- strous like licking the best friend in the world, when he calls me little." "Well, you don't lick me, for two' reasons; the first is, that I won't let you, and the next is, that you won't let yourself. But look you,. Jones, this is dry talking, and I see you re in bad spirits; let's look after so~ne good ones. There's a wagon there; I reckon we'll find something, Let's take another drink, and we'll be fresh for the circus." "Agreed," said the other; and, as they rolled over to the opposite side of the road, amid a confused assem~ blage of carts, carriages, and wagons, the unsteady gait of Barry showed but too certainly that the apple- toddy had been already too potent for his perpendicu- lar. "Ride!" said he. "By gracious, Tom, I could strad- dle a barrel of peach, and make it streak away as fast as them circus fellows make their horses." ~Humph! If you go on at this rate, your swallow will be as good as the clown's, who means to take in his own head,~ you know." "And you, Tom, you a fellow of sense, 'to believe that cock-and-a-bull story 1" '"Believe what you please, but here's the liquor. Ho! there, Gerdts-that you ?" Nettles kneW the whole, country. "What's left c~f ine,~ 'Squire. But what'll you have? here's mountain-peach, and here's apple." "The apple, then, witha bed of honey for it to dream upon. I stick to the apple, Jones; I never mix my liquors, if I can help it." "What!" cried the other, with a grin; "afraid! Tom Nettles; afraid of two liquors! h{alloo ! 'there, old Gerdts, you don't know me~ never mind; give me both; peach and apple; who's afraid? Equal parts, old still, and no slow charcoal dropping. Ease my eye, quickly; it's strained by the heavy sunshine." Barry was becoming pleasantly perverse, and was in the very humor for all sorts of cross purposes. When conducted with some difficulty by hi~ friend, they entered the amphitheatre where they had' taken their dinner that day. The scene was now changed as if by magic. The place was thoroughly lighted, a per- fect\ blaze of splendor, which showed, conspicuously clear, the remotest parts of th~ pavilion. The~ seats,. which encircled three-fourths of the area, were o~ceupied almost entirely. Our two friends were compelled to take places on the lowest bench, and within a foot of the small rim of earth which had been heaped up around the ring, rather as a mark than a barrier. There w~s no fence to keep the spectators from. the track, and to check the erring vaultings of a. vicious horse 'and an inferior rider. The seats were divided into two great and equal sections, one assigned to the whites and the other to the blacks. They were raised' (a rude scaffolding of plank) to the 'very eVes of the tent, and the heads of the visitors were in close neighborhood with the shaking canvas., Hundreds of showy damsels, with ribbons and feathers flying, might be seen, all impatience and 'sunny smiles, their several gallants being eager in d& scribing what they knew, and what they anticipated. Many of these had come, a great distance to. the sports of ilillabee; as, in ancient times, they flocked to the amusements of the tournament; and for the same rea~ Son, the equal desire for recreation and niwelty, and the want of great cities, which afford these habitually. The dress circle was ~tninently well filled. The girls and boys had crowded in from all parts of the country. Ancient ladies, who had heard vague tidings of the cir- cus, or had probably had glimpses of such a vision in their youthful days, came hither to revive old memories, 11* page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] THE ~ENNESSE1~AN'$ STORY. 12r '126' AS GOOD AS A coMEDY: OU, or to gratify long-cherished desires. The old gentle- men necessarily accompanied their wives and kindred. The farmer was 'curious to see the reality of those spec- tacles of which great pictures had already been made to ack~rn. his hamlet, and jockeys naturally came wher- ever the heroism. of ho~seflesh could be made to tell. The negroes were not less curious. Hundreds were in attendance, from all quarters. They had trudged or trotted on foot, on xAule, in wagtrn; for ten or fifteen miles the night before, to ~ee eights and wonders. ]~ach wa~ in his best. Bright calicos flamed on every side, to the very summit of their circumscribed domain; and all was hope 'and expectation, as 'Jones Barry and Tom Nettles made their appearance, and scrambled to a seat. 'They were not kept in waiting long. The spectacle soon began. Horses, pied and spotted, and of all colors, made their' appearance. Children rode, women rode, the~ 'clown rode, and it waS all sorts of riding. Of course, we shall not pretend to describe t spectacle with ~whieh everybody is more or less familiar. Journeys to Brentford, Gilpin's race, and several other pieces were enacted.' The equestrians had their share of applause; lint, after' all, the gloiy of the spectacle was in that comical fellow, the clown. '~' Buried in a grotesque and monstrous Egyptian mask, hi§ face thoroughly concealed~ and so artfully that its location could not exactly be de~ termined, his voice seemed to come from some vaulted and Eollow apartment below the ground. JLLis antics were~ inaescribable. His jugglery albne must demand our attention, asit somewhat involved one of our acquaint- ance. 'It happened that the scene required our clown to' take wine with an African magician. He was me- mently expecting him, and he was proceeding to show the audience how he should bamboozle the magician, and finally "swallow his soul." "Swallow his soul 1" exclaimed Barry, in horror, to N~ettles. "He'll do it!" said the other, gravely. '~' You'll see. "Here, now," exclaimed the clown, "iS a brandy- cocktail in which I've buried Mumbo-Jumbo's soul. It's the most beautiful drink in the world; perhaps you'd like to ~try it ?" said he, and he very courteously pre- sented it to our two friends. Barry saw, as he fancied, some of the fine cognac of which he had partaken freely in that very place, on that very day; and, being exceed. ingly thirsty, he innocently and incontinently ex- claimed- "I don't care if I do-thank you !" Speaking thus,' he rose and put forth his hand; but, by an adroit move- ment, throwing the long bunch of streamers- from his fool's cap full in the face of our hero, the clown gulped down the beverage himself, exclaiming- "Perhaps you'll wait till you can get it !" The audience roared with delight. Furious~ at his disappointment, and the ridiculous figure 'which he cut, Bari"y at once mounted the clown; and, at the first grasp, tore away what seemed to be the entire head and neek of the unfortunate jester. With this terrible evi- dence in his clutches, he looked around him aghast, scarcely daring to guess the extent of 'his achievement. The clown, meanwhile, had retreated at the first 'assault, and before Barry could recover his wits and equilibrium, for he' could not well anticipate a renewal of the conflict from one whose entire caput he carried in his hand, the mountebank, squatting low, darted between the legs of our hero; who had,' in some measure, straddled the little. circuit of earth by which the ring was circumscribed. The face of Barry was to the audience, and the' ass~u1t of the clown surprised him. lie was lifted from his feet before he apprehended danger; a~d his assailant, rising under hi~ burden, which he did not seem 'to feel, trotted with him quite 'across the arena. Barry 'was thus. car- ried forward horizontally, his head addressh~g the white, and his heels the negro portion, of the assembly. "Tom, Nettles-Tom !" was all that the poor fellow / 12'r 426 . page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 AS ,aoop' AS A COMEDY: 0Th, TIlE TRNNESSEEAN'$ STORY. could articulate, but he screamed and kicked tremen- dously. 'His efforts were wasted on the air. The clown had only attained his great flexibility by exercises which had imparted~ thd, most wonderful power to his muscles, and' Barry was but a child in his grasp. His 'struggle only increased the fun. The audience shrieked and howled with delight, in proportion to the futile efforts of the captive ; and when they beheld the captor hurry with his prey to the negro side of the house, and saw him pitch the unfortunate gentleman headlong into the arms of a great fat negro wench, one of the most enor- ineus in the assembly, who sat trickling with oleaginous sWeat, 'on the third tier, one would have thought the whole pavilion would have come down with the delirious shouts of the multitude. "Here's an abolitionist for you, mother Possum-fat !" cried the clown, as he plumped poor Barry into her embrace. "1 no want 'em I" cried the woman, shuffling herself free from the burden. Barry, rolling out of her lap, con- tinued to roll down the successiVe tiers, until h~ came plump into the soft bed of sand and sawdust, which had been prepared for a very different animal. Furious with rage, h~ rose to his feet, and, seizing a pole with which one of the equestrians had been balanciyig, he darted headlong at the offending clown. "Hurrah, red-jacket! Hurrah, clQwn !" were the several cries of the audience. "Hurrah, Captain !" was the more cordial shout of, recognition and encour- agement from those who personally knew our hero: "that's being into him with a long pole, indeed !" But the clown had no idea of meeting such an enemy, armed in such a fashion; and, eluding the tremendous blow and thrust with which Barry addressed his ribs, he vaulted clear over the shoulder of the latter and dis- appeared behind the screen which sheltered the actor~ from the audience. His enemy thus out of sight, the fiiriovts eh~1pioD proceeded to wreak his vengeance upon K the inanimate objects around him. The ~scene in which the clown was to have tricked the African magician out of his soul was a most exquisite garden of Bagdad. There were stands of beautiful flowers, vases of great magnitude, statues, and several rich things by way of ornament and decoration, which, seen through the me- dium of distance, or by the aid of flickering lights, * looked to be very precious. There ~was also a sort of close bower, a framework draped with silk, in which the cunning clown had placed a sleeping beauty. She was not the smallest part of the temptations with which the soul of the magician was to be entrapped. Barry, with his pole, had already thrown down one or two of the wooden flower~vases, with their precious contents, and his~pole now descended upon the bower, which a~ single stroke served to precipitate to the ground. To the sur- prise of the assailant, not less than the assembly, up sprang from the ruins a most beautifully dressed damsel; young, pretty, and habited like a Sultana. It was for- tunate, indeed, that the~ weight of the pole had not fallen upon her. But it has grazed sufficiently close to arouse all her fury; not Waiting an instant, she darted upon oui?' hero, and, drawing the little stiletto which she wore as a part of her Oiiental costume, he might have been made to pay seriously for his frolic; for the rage of the woman was apparent in her closely, set teeth and her flre~gleaming eyes. But Barry seized her arm, ~~as she struck, and dropping his pole stood only on the .de- fensive~ The farce began to look greatly like tragedy. The enraged woman now shrieked and struggled. fler husband rushed out from the interior, armed with an axe. The clown again made his appearance, followed' by the whole troupe, each seizing whatever weapon oWered as he came. There were sailors, and Turks, and magi- cians, and~ even little Cupid's urchins, ;two~ feet high, whom papa and mamma were thus assiduously training in the way they should not go. These all confronted our unlucky jockey with 'the most ~tincomprornising fury in their looks,. 'Re had spoiled the proceedings, throwrL the assembly into' the most admired disorder, and it wa~~ page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 180 AS OOQD AS A COMEDY: OR, justice only that doomed him t6 a condign punishment. I3nt, if they were formidable, Barry now no longer stood alone. Tom Nettles was by his side, and the long pole which Barry .had discarded Was in his grasp9 "Hillabee boys," he cried aloud, "bring out your hickories!". Twenty vigorous youngsters sprang out at the sum- nions, and ranged themselves on the side of the ama- teurs. Great clubs of knotted hickories were already flourishing high; and, forgetting his ia~te danger, Jones Barry already felt that he was a hero. He still main- ~tained his grasp upon the 'Sultana, and seemed disposed to carry her oW as the captive to his bow and spear, when the cool voice of Nettles commanded him to let her go. He did so; and the sleeping beauty, now wide awake, darted into the arms of the magician, who was her husband,.upon whose bosom she sobbed convulsively, as ata providential escape from~a great danger. Thus the parties stood, i-confronting ~each other.; both looking firm and fierce enough, and threatening trouble. Not only did the "whole troupe of equestrians range them- selves for hat'tle under the' leadership of ~he clown, but 'one of the horses coolly marched in, covered with panoply, and, thrusting his head over that worthy's shoulder,' seemed to promise him sufficient hacking, and in truth looked very formidable. lilt was a scene; the clown, as a matter of course, opposed himself to Barry, who, armed with a pole, looked aghast at the twofold conflict before him, in the threatening aspect of both horse and rider. But Nettles fortunately knew Ahe head meii of tlie~ company. lie said- ~"My friends~ this is altogether a mistake, which I easily explain, and, I trust, easily reconcile. There's no fun infighting, though we're by no means afraid, as you may' see, to meet any number of men or horses. 3ut there's no real' cause of quarrel between bus; and if you're agreed, w&ll separate our forces. The boys of~Hillabee will retire to their seats, keeping their hickories warm, lest we should want them "again ~ and THE TEN~ESSEEAN'$ STORY. gs' the gentlemen of the ci~cu~ will 'go on with their exer. cises as before. In the, mean time,. Mr. Barry' and my~ self will retire with the manager 'here, and we'll adjust the difficulty in private together." A suggestion so politic was acceptable to all parties, though, onee on the ground, the iillabee boys did not relish the idea of, re- turning without having done something glorious 'by way ~of showing how well their destructive faculties had been developedd. Barry was a little scrupulous about entering the mysterious sanctum to which the' clown and, the Sub tana had retired, but, having great confidence in Nettles, and being assured by the great coolness and confidence of the latter, h~ followed him and the manager into the place of retreat., Here he found himself amidst a motley group. Horses- were staring them in the face on all hands. Some of the equestrians were already mounted~ Here, in one corner was a trunk and box;' there a~ table and chair; and there a chest;~ and there a 'bundle; and there the uniform of a giant;' and there the dozen masks and jackets of the clown. There, to~, re~ covered from~ the dust and danger of the arena, ~was the unlucky colossal, mask. and headdress which our hero had torn 9ff from his enemy at the first encounter. Nettles walked in with the air of a man perfectly at home. "And now," said he, "IDiavolo," agdre~sing the clown, "let us begin the work of peace, as you begun the war. Prepare us one of those excellent brand cocktails with which you tempted toy friend to despe.. ration. 'Had you known the diabolical thirst that's been troubling both of' ~us the last three hours, you'd have known' 'twa~ quite as much as your. head was worth to mock us with 'aiiything half so delightful. Quick, now; and let there fre peace' between us' I"' The arrangement promised to be satisfactpry to all parties. The cocktails were~ speedily prepared; pre- pared in a' nice-looking, brass-bouiid bucket, of diinen. sions to 'guarantee a~ sufficient taste 1ff the beverag~ for all the troupe. 'The" bowls were' filled; "hands were / page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] ~82 AS OQOD' AS A 9OM~DY O1~, THE T~SI~EA~{'S STORY. I~3 shaken; eyes 'glistened and,' with the consent of the r~agician, his lovely Sultana freely bestowed the' kiss of peace upon our hero'. Th~ example was gratuitously followed by the clown, whose embra,.ce and, salutation were distinctly stamped ~pon the front of Barry, in unequal decorations of verxiiiUon and buri~t cork. 1Their embraces' ~eemed to affect the dextrous Torn Nettles with a serious delight. +f' How beautiful," said he, " is it to 1~ehold' brethren thus dwelling in amity together! What a spectacle! It is necessary that the audience should see it; that they~ should see that this is, no mockery; but that the foes' have freely exchanged forgiveness. 'Another draught from t,. gentlemen," said he, address~ ing )~arry' and the clown, "'and then go forth that the * people may witness those~beautiful 'embraces. Rarry had no scruples about the dram, but he. rather ~hung back at the prQposal ~for the' embrace in public. His 'reluctance disappeared with the draught. He swore that Diavolo was the best fellow in the world, and made the finest cocktails; and, with an arm about eaph other's waist, each bearing a cocktail in liatid, they enwrged from th~ canopy into the' area, and drank to each ~ther, and th~ audience. If war exulted 'in the previous sA~ene, philanthropy was proportionally happy now. The audience were ravished. The old ladies wept. The 'old men thought it just as well,; and the negrpes were perfectly well satisfied; wondering only a little 'to behold.a man drinking with such~ 'a capacious swallow, who had so,~recently been deprived of his head. ~All, seemed' perfectly well satisfied but young iillabee, f1~om\whQxn, some' discorda1r~t hisses were heard t'o yise, whulei' the unemployed hfckories were made to 'clatter 'a~ainst~ the sides of the benches.' ~i. "'There's a drop yet in the bucket,'. whispered the cloii to his new comrade. The hint was not lost upon ]~arry~, He returned to the sanctum, where he found 'his friend: Tom Nettles. There thpy remained till the perfornnrieeswere ovei',~nd the c~owd'departed~; when they were invited to a hot supper with 'the~ t~oup~; in the great area of the pavilion. The invitation was not to be disregarded. The equestrians lived well;, and Barry and his' friend were both hungry. But, were it not so, the wishes of the 'latter would. scarcely have had any weight upon our delighted hero. He kad been the hero of the night, though after a ~ornewhat~ doubtful fashion,. it is true.; hut he had been. conspicuous,. and had come out of the scene with applause. Of course7 he could not doubt that it was his appearance which was so warmly welcomed when he had come forth in the embraces of the clowns The~ clapping and shouting seemed to him the most grateful sounds' to which he had ever listened; and the brandy cocktails were, the most delicious of mortal beverages. It was a night of glo- rification. The supper-table was spread. His friend was placed on one side of the manager; he occupied the other. Beside him, sat the lovely wife of the magician, whose graciousness never even provoked the frowns of her mysterious lord. At first, Jones Barry felt a little squeamish on this subject. When she gazed so tenderly in his eyes, and suffered her finger to rest so impres.. sively on his 'wrist, ~he felt a dubhrnsness, and looked ~ his doubts at the husband. But he knew not the indif- ference of professional magic to those mortal subjects.' The latter saw everything without'~ discomposure; and,, after a little turn of hesitation and doubt, our hero de- 'livered himself up, soul and body, to all the intoxica- tion of a conviction that he had won the heart of this most beautiful of all the creatures of Faery. They 'drank together,, and whispered together. The hours waxed late.' Barry sang a comic song, at the instance of Nettles, and, at the conclusion, was more delighted than astounded; as his' Sulana, throwing her arms about his neck, and seating herself in his lap, in the face of all the assembly, called him the finest little f'el- low in the world. He did not know how he. should re-' compense such 'devotion, but by forcing a great ring from' his upon her finger. She coyly' suffered him, in a mo~ 12 82 133 page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] THE ThNN2ESSEEXR'$ 8TOUY. 18~ 184 AS GOOD ASA COMEDY: OIL, ment after, to transfer the diamond breastpin from his to herbosom. He put it there himself; and all this the magician saw without seeming to regard it as in any wtse improper. The next morning, Barry found him- self where he had supped, sleeping upon one of the benches, with a bundle of straw under his head, and one of the horse-cloths, green and scarlet, spread above his body. Tom Nettles, as he opened his byes, was to be -seen standing with the manager at ~a little distance, and mixing a couple of rosy anti-fogmatics. .1' CHAPTER X. THE HUMORS OF THE CIRCUS. BARRY was not the man to suffer from headaches; but his stomachh was one that needed to be fortified by tonics. The sight of his friend, when he discovered the occupation in which he was engaged, fully arcaised him. He was on his feet in an instant, jerking up his trousers, and approaching Nettles with the haste of a person who fears that he may come too late. But there were some particulars in which Nettles never abandoned his com~ panion. He was emphatically what young people call "a good. fellow," and good fellowship implies the neces- sity of assisting your friend and facilitating his ready attainment of all desirable indulgences. In making an,~ anti-fogmatic for himself, he had not forgotten his com- rade. There was a huge vessel before him, where the beverage stood in waiting, and Tom, Jones Barry,- and the manager of the amphitheatre, were soon engaged in a hob-a-nobbing match that didn't stop at a single stoop. Barry declared himself quite happy. He had enjoyed a pleasant dream of the magician's wife, and he natu- rally inquired after her. "Look in," said Tom ~Nettles, with a smirk to the manager which Barry did not perceive, while he point- ed the latter to the sanctum where the reconciliation had taken place the night before. Without a moment's hesitation, our little h~ro followed the finger, and found himself in the lady's dressing4oom, he~ toilet only her. gun, and ~he, in the most loose undress in the world, employed before the broken mirror which hung from one of the uprights of the tent. Barry was astounded, and would have started back; but she saw him in the - page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] ISO AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, glass, and, wheeling round, at once summoned him, though in the very sweetest accents, to approach. "You are just in time," said she; "I wanted some- body to lace my jackets. "Jackets 1" exclaimed Barry, aghast. "Yes, to be sure! Come now, you're a nice little fellow, I know. Let me 'see-you have small fingers. Show yourself diligent, and help me to fix myself. That man of mine never gives me any assistance. There he sleeps. Look at him. He will snore till noon, and never fairly wakens till it's time to dres~'for the performance." She pointed to the end of a wagon that appeared under a corner of the* tent, from which, sure enough, the ears of ~Barry detected a very decided snore. But thi~ did' not encourage him. He was utterly astounded at the new duty required at his hands. In all his ex- perience, he had never before laced a woman's corsets -or unlaced them; and he scarcely knew how to under- ~'tand the Sultana. But seeing his hesitation, Sultana- like, she stamped her little foot, and repeated her orders. She did not leave' him long doubtful that she was in earnest. "Come," ~aidNshe, "what do you wait for?' Is it because ,you're bashful? Well! at ~o~r age!; But you needn't be, here! We know a thing or two! we've no false modesty heri~, I assure you. A leg's a leg, with us. We talk plainly, and are not the worse for it. We don't make a fuss about shadows as long as we keep the sub- stance; and indeed, it's only those who have lost the sub- stance that do. Come, stir yourself, and there's a kiss to begin with, by way of recompense. A few momei ts found our hero awkwardly busy with the waist of the Sultana. While thus engaged, the manager and Tom Nettles came in. ~' That woman,'~ said the manager aloud, "has tire& out every member ' of ~the troupe in lacing her. She will have her waist brought within the narrowest com- pass, and she breaks her cords daily in trying to make it TIlE TEN~U~SSEEA~'S STORY. 137 smaller. There's not a hand among us that she has not made sfre in the abominable work, and now she takes to our visitors." "And why not ?" said the Sultana, with the air of the orient~ "Is he not rewarded? It- is not often he is permitted. to study a good model." . "A little too round, madame," said the manager. "Too round !" screamed the Sultana. "Not a bit," said Tom Nettles, coolly interposing to span th~ waist. "An exquisite union of symmetry and strength." "Strength !" demanded madame. "Yes, to be sure; strength is necessary to grace, even in a woman. It's the mistake of too many of the 8ex that an air of feebleness is supposed to imply delicacy. It is rather the reverse. II wish to see vigor with grace-; and a woman ought to seem as capable of a fine wrestle as of a fine sentiment." "I've a great mind to trip your heels for that," said the Sultana, pertly. "And if I am to take a fall, I should wish for. no worse embrace than yours. But I lea~~e Barry to the danger. He's a better wrestler than myself', and it strikes me that his lacing begins to look much more like hugging. Beware, Jones, or I'll tell your sweetheart." Barry blushed to the roots of his hair. "Has he a sweetheart? Is he in love?" demanded the Sultana. "The danger is that he is in love with m1pre 'than he can manage. Yesterday he loved but one woman. What lessons you have taught him, since that time, may be guessed from the way he performs the present opera.. tion. His lacing~ is very like embracing;, and, if he goes on at this rate, he'll be for a wrestle in earnest." "And if he is," said the magician, suddenly thrusting his head upward from the tail ~of the wagon, "I'll en~ gage that Nell can throw him, or any man in company9" "Nell! Oh, you wretch I" cried the Sultana. "Nell!" She was Madame Zerlina, in the bill of. the 12* - r page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 188 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OU, T1I~ T~ENNEBSEEAN's $TOUY. performance. "Was ever such a monster! How he takes a woman's name in vain! Do some of you give him his dram, his phlegm-cutter, his antifogmatic, o~ whatever else lie calls it, that he may sober himself to a civil way of speaking." "Ay, Nell, bring it yourself." The wife ~eized a tumbler that stood on a chest beside her, and held it to Nettles, who filled it from the flagon whjch had been brought in by the manager. She darted away the nest moment to her, magician, without seeming to remember that Barry, who, in his clumsiness, was still busy. at the strings of her bodice, was compelled to follow after her, or lose the ends of the cord which had been confided to hi~ care. "There~ you!" she cried, thrusting the drink into his clutches. "Jsn't~ she a beauty ?" said the magician, with a leer to Barry, as he took the liquor. Barry could only smile and simper,. and look silly. "Beauty !" said she; "too much of a beauty for you. That's thewayhe flatters a woman, with Beauty! Beauty! on his lips, said half-asleep, and his mouth opening 'on the ~quart-poV, which alone made him waken up. You don't talk of my beauties now, but you feel them." "Yes, indeed," said Nettles, "and he'll stay feeling them all day if you'll let him." "Oh, Tom!" murmured Barry with a grin. "Don't you mind him," said the Sultana. "Have you done new. There !" she exclaimed, wheeling about and grasping the unsuspecting Barry in her arms, giv- ing 1dm an embrace, before releasing him, that half took away his breath. "There, that's your reward. lit isn't often a fine woman bestow~a scjueeze upon hersweetheart, and IL only do. it now to show you what your friend ~neanswheii lie says that the beauty of a woman means vigor as well~ aa grace. If you'd like, to try the wrestle after the squeeze, say the word, and I'm ready for you. "And I'll go a hundred on Nell against the field," cried the husband, from~the wagon. "Oh, beast there, with your' Nell," cried the heroine, indignantly. "I've done everything, I've even thrashed him, to teach him good manners, but it's so much love and labor thrown away." "But how about the wrestle? Who t~kes me up ?" demanded the husband. The Sultana herself looked 'about her with the eye of a challenger. She was still only dressed in part, and her fine bust and figure af- forded not a bad idea of Ole~patra. Her breasts seemed breaking through the very partial restraints upon 'them, and her arms, partly bare, were adniirably white and rounded, revealing that equal union of muscular and flesh development which crowns the person with strength, without lessening its beauty.-. By this time, however, the admiration of Jones Barry had in some degree given way to misgivings and apprehension. His sense of the beauty of the woman was somewhat im- paired by his disquiet at her boldness. The privileges to which he had been admitted had certainly shown no warmth or feeling ~n her part, and, in fact, she' had treated him rather like a boy than a man. He was' awed and abashed, by her manners, rather than de- lighted with her charms; and the single squeeze which she had so gratuitously bestowed upon him was quite sufficient to satisfy him, without desiring the wrestle. He accordingly ~aid~ nothing, while Nettles, with exem- plary 'coolness, quietly remarked that "he, perhaps, should have no serious objection to the trial, could he be sure of fair play, but as he had never found that from a woman yet, he was not disposed to incur any un~.. necessary risk " By this time one of the subordinates made his ap- pearance, announcing breakfast in the amphitheatre.. Nettles gallantly assisted the lady in completing her toilet, and this affair adjusted, he gave her his army and conducted her into the temple.. He was fiAlewed by Barry, who felt nothing hut envy at~ th~ ease and readiness with which his friend performed the duties of' the courtier. The" equestrians played the part of ho5ts t page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] TILE TENNI~SSEEAN'5 STORY. 141 140 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, with great liberality and good-humor, and the meal lin. geared for more than an hour, in which, while the cates were various and ample, they constituted hut a minor portion of the attraction. The coolness, readiness, great resource, experience, and anecdote of these per- formers furnished an unfailing subject of wonder to Barry. They seemed to know' everything about the world, and some of them seemed quite at home on the subject of books. Zerlina, our Sultana, or "Nell," as the magician, her husband, persisted' in calling her, was quite a dabbler literature. She was read in the dramatic poets~ and had an ambition for the stage, which some mysterious influence prevented her from seeking to gratify. She made frequent exhibitions, at the entreaty of Nettles, of her pow ers, while reading favorite passages, and thus increased the degree of awe and admiration which Barry already entertained for he~r. Her civiliti'es were somewhat less free than they had been the night before, but they were still such as a matronmight readily bestow upon a moderately grown boy. Poor Barry, though pleased with much of this sort of petting, was yet humbled by it! and it was with something of a feeling of relief that he received a hint from 'Nettles that it was time to depart. The troupe were to exhibit another night at ilillabee, as the mul- titude, though diminished, was still sufficiently large to compensate the performance. There were extemporary races throughout the day, but generally with common horses. To these neither Barry nor Nettles greatly inclined, and their;separation from their hosts of the hip- podrome was pretty much a leave-taking of the field. Nettles had known the manager, the magician, and the fair~Zerlina, some time before, and they parted as old friends. The Sultana' squeezed Barry's hands with a frank earnes4fless, as she bad&him good-by, telling him he was a nice fellow, and she should always remember him by his gifts, pointi~ig to his ring and breastpin. was with a twInge that our hero heard this speech. He thought sulkily of the half-maudlin tendei'ness of the. night before, in .w~tich he had heen beguiled of jewels that he would - prefer to see on very different fingers. The thoughts of Nettles, in some degree, took the same direction with his own. As they rode together' homeward, and when~they had fairly emerged from con- tact with the multitude, the former, with a quizzical smile, said to Barry- "I say, Jones, what the d-l would your sweetheart, the fair Geraldine, have said, could sh~ have seen you sitting in the lap of our INelly, eh?" "I didn't sit in her lap, Tom; she sat in mine. "So much the better for the sight! What would she have said, or what could you have said, had she suddenly plumped in upon you when Nelly was in your lap, her arm about your neck, and giving you that smack of the lips, which seemed to you like twine from heaven? You got drunk almost instantly after it. You hugged her like a hero, until she' couldn't stand it any longer, and broke away, as if she feared some harm~frona her magician husband." "Oh! I didn't, Tom. Now don't you be telling' that nonsense about." "flow can I help it, Jones, my good fellow? The joke is quite too good to be lost. For the one smack, the moment you had tasted it, you gave her *a dozen, till she gave in and cried "nough! 'nough!' as fervently as the fellow whose sockets are filling fast with sand from his enemy's fingers; and such a squeeze about the body that she fairly heaved again, though pretty well used to tight bracing." "Never, Tom; never "But it's a true bill, Jones. Then, you sung a co- mic song; and, in trying to get on the table for a Vir- ginny reel, you slipped over into the sawdust, an'd 'lay there with a gurgle in your throat, as if you were try- ing to drink and sing at the same moment. You don't know, I suppose, who laid you out upon the benches?" "No, Tom, Ii don't." "Who, but Nell and myself? She took your arms, page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] 142 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, VIE TJ~NNESSEEAN'S STORY. 148 'rand I your feet, and we swung you up, saying, all the while- 'Warn ye once, warn ye twice, Warn ye thrice, and away, And away, and away, ye go 1' She brought the horse-cloth and spread over you, and the clown delivered a sernion over you, in which he said that, though a small man, your skin and stomach were capable of' stretching. to ~a brandy cocktail as readily land extensively as those of any man he ever saw; and not one of us said a word against it. You were treated gloriously, Jones, and you were glorious; but what would the fair Geraldine say to it all ?" "J3y gracious, Tom, she nausn't hear of it !" "Had she only seen you lacing the jackets! Ha! ha! ha!" "Tom, my dear fellow. Tom Nettles"- "Looking for all the world like a great boy, with his big eyes spreading at the sight of an apple-tree filled with fruit, yet trembling to think of the steel-trap lying quiet in the grass below. Oh! Jones, Jones, if ever a man looked at a woman greedily, it was you, this morning." "Now, Tom! Tom! lDon't! Never!" "I'll swear it! You did! ~2Vones, I'm afraid you're a bad fellow among the women. You ought never to think of Geraldine Foster. She, at least, ought never to think of you. You don't deserve her. She's too good for you. You'll make a bad husband. And I can't~think of suffering her to marry in the dark. She must know-." "Tom, my dear fellow. Honor bright! But, I see you're onlyjoking." "Joking,'.indeed! No! no! There's only one thing that will prevent me from interfering, and that is-" He paused. "Eh! What?" "That there's no sort of use for it, as there's no sort of danger that she'll ever marry you.~~ "And why not, I wonder ?" "Why not! When you prefer to stay here at a horserace, to seeing her home. When you let her go off under the escort of your rivals, while you go a gan- 'der-pulling. When the circus is more grateful to you than her company; and when, not content with the performances of other people, you take another man's wife into your lap, and-" "But, Tom, she don't know; she won't know-" "These things are sure to leak out; and when it's known that you gave this pretty woman your ring and breastpin, and promised to remember her as long as you lived-" "No, I'll be k----d if I did." "And I'll be k-------d if you didn't !" responded the tormentor. "Tom, by the blazes, you're no friend of mine, or you wouldn't talk so. But, I know you of old. You only do it to worry me. You won't blab." "Well, suppose I don't? What chance do you stand with the fair Geraldine when you neglect her so, and when you have such chaps as Ran. Hammond and Miles Henderson against you?" "I don't care a curse for Hammond. She shows him less favor than all the rest. She's cross to him; and, for that matter,, it don't seem to me that he cares a curse for her." "Don't you believe it !" "Well! let him come. It costs nothing, and it comes to nothing. She don't care for him." "I'm not so sure of that !'' "She don't show it, at least. She's more shy of him, by far, than she is of me or Henderson." "The shyness is in his favor. Was Nelly shy of you? No, indeed! She'd kiss you in sight of fifty people. But, you only be saucy, more than she is. prepared to suffer, and she'd as soon dirk you as drink. This very page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] 144 A~ GOOD AS A COMEDY: OiL, shyness of Geraldine' Foster shows a feeling that she wants to hide. lilt's the same as saying, 'This man is something to me.'. He has an effect upon her, and let him 'but purSue-' "But he don't pursue." "'He don't! You don't know Ran. Hammond; rand I tell you, Tones Barry, that if any man of you three ever marries that' girl, it's Ran. Hammond. I know something of him, and I know something of woman, and if he isn't already as deep in her heart as you were in your cups last night, though without getting drunk by it, then I'm not one of the Nettles family." - "Well! that's speaking sure; for you are one of the Nettles family, and make yourself known wherever you go for a real son of the bush, if it's only by the feeling you produce. But you don't raise my skin, Tom; for, between us, I feel pretty sure that the game is to be min&." '~' "'Ah! Ha! well!" "The mother promises me- "The mother! You're' more likely to marry the mother than the daughter. But it isn't the mother, ex- actly; and Mrs. Foster has no such influence over her husband's child as to say how that cat shall jump. If ever there was a woman who had a will of her own, it'S that girl Geraldine Foster. I'm thinking that the inotherfavors you; but I don't believe she can do much for you, unless the daughter is a weaker vessel than I think her." "Well! only you don't blab about this oirciis busi- ness, Tom-" "I don't know how I can keep in~-Jo1ies. It's too g~od." "Oh, by gracious, ~fom, you must! I'll be hanged if I wouldn't fight 'my. own brother, if he told upon me. "Yes, but you'd~ iiardly fight nie, Jones, for you know I'd kill you; and then you'd lose your fortune, your sweetheart, and everything else. No! you won't T~[E T~ SS1~BA~ 'S $ThRY. 145 fight me, Jones; and2 if y~w V&Ik i~ That so~'t &f w~yj I shall ha1ve to come tout with the ~tdry~ PU ?h~v&t~ go to Mrs. roster Ill have t~ say. I ini~s~t see M~s Ge- raldine~ Then, I 11 up a~d ~h~w her about th~ lan, and the scjuee~e, and the kisses, ~nd the la~ing, and the ~ " T~m,~top~? By ~ra~Ions~;, you xnttst stop Here e somebody~ coming after us conversation, thus uiterrnpted, it is not 4~ ob~. jeot td pursue. Nettles had n& other purpose iii what he said thanto annoy his~ companion;, thei~h t1~ e~pin~ ions whk~h he ~ezpressed~ with ~ega1~d tfr the rnip~rior chances of Hammond in Vhe pursuit of GeraldiF6s~e~r in comparison with the two competitors, wei~ei1P~iiestly entertaii~ed. He dined that day with ~ar~ry~ *Ii~k4t bachelor's hail, aad.who reourred to the su~jeot) ~ dinner~ Here again Nettles ry did not'~se~em satisfied repeated his 6~ini~ Rar~ that, lie shoidd~ do ~a~ii, i the course' if the conversatiQi; betrayod~sta~ethingi~f a hostile feeling'towardwllammond; whkh the~ethet#a~ surprised tha~t~ he sl~ouid en~t'ei'tain~ '~ "Somehow," said he, "he crosses' me~ ~t @eiy~ ~ He bought that place of Wi~ga~d'~j thou "But didn't he want it t&?"' "I suppose he did, but-.2' "But you oversleptyourself, having-1~eei~ d~rm~k M~uiiy house the night before, and didn't g~t tothe~aie4~ ti~i~i" ike'! and th4fello "Yes tr wg~t.itforha1f~t I was willing to give." he inone~ "Mere idoky for both of ybt1;~ perhaps. "Then ~ gives~ Miles 1Jenders~n thi~bl~dy mar4, that fakes 'Ger~,ldhie.' 6fl~ her heels-" "Ili~t y&u ~bougfrt "Ueraldin& aftex~ he h~4'gWeni "That's~ true~; 'but lie advises hirnt~ run her, ~nd~4tell~ himhowtodoit." " At did~ "He.di4 oi~e and not the otber, ~ ~1y~itat any other might hav~e d&ne, anct dy~' c~Is~ to 'a '1 page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] ~46 A$'GOOD ASA COMEDY: OR, be angry.. The truth is,.Jones, yen are in. too bad a humor to. do Ran. Uammona justice." ," Andif, as you say, ho stands. the only chance with Geraldine Foster,' ~ha~n't.i h~ve good cause to ~be in a bad lvxmor? sow, you see, though you ~'prove. to me that2 Mi his influence upon my ~uecesses~ comes' up na- tu~Mly enough, yet, somehow, when, you find, a man way-tMdng the start of' you himse'If- dways in your . osaing you at this, and 1~lping his friends to do so-cr b~ting' you at that~+the ~orse from his not fr~gi~ng to 4o ~o; it 1ook~ as if. he ~ere your born enemy. You caii~t. help feeling as if he was. ABut, I tell you, I'll not stand much . naore:cro~sing; and 'some of these days, if tl4gsiget. worseiL~an~ E~mmond and Jones Barry will' b~ay9 toask the question, before witnesses, whi~~h is the better ~n~n." 'P~haw! pshaw t~, You haven't di'~nk quite enough, 'Jones,~for a sensible judgment in this matter. . A few glas~e~;more wifl 'giye you the right pitch for. thinking. * 'Now, let me tell you, I won't have you make a judy of yourseIf'~ in 414s fashion. *. hammond's a man whom yoi~'ll do.. welL toliove no quarrel with. He's an ~igly customer. "He~lt be slow, to take his gripe-won't do it, 'as. long, as he can decently help it; but when he does, he takes hold like ~a bulldog, and ,never lets go till.~ his t~eth meet in theilesh. You're a fool, IBarry9 You hav&" forti.ine,. .and' good liquors; enjoy yourself'. in all sort~, of . ways.; ~keep blooded horses and run races.; . a .ftn~ parcel of gamebirds, and enjoy the cockpit like'the Napoleoku of 'M~ieo.~ Yow keep. the best of 'wine~, and are 'not. afr~i& 46 drink them; 'you can ride, rufl,. and fight, ai4 enjoy you~elf in ~ll three ways, in one 4ay- now With a goose, and now. With a clown; and have, be-' sides, a devilish' keen eye for the women, so that~you'll b~ thinking "of. one ~seven nilles off, while another's in your lap."' 'the ' if "No more:of thatyTom.; ~pass bottle; and you ~y. so, we~Wsei~d out for a few larks ~nd make a night of it" / "Agreed; a night of it." TUE TEN1~TE5SEEA~'5 STORY.. 14Z CHAPTER XL A MAIDEN'S VOW. LEAVING our good conpanion~ to make 'a night o~ib let us 'follow the' ~footsteps of 'the party from Whi6h we turned to pursue the more devinus pi'ogress ot~ the pait with whom we have .s& long loitered. 'We have seen that' the ladies were well attended in their 'departure from the race.course. On this ride, our two gallant neces~ sarily did their 'utmost' to make themselves agreeable. Without being in' anyWise remarkable' for his~ taleiit, Mi1e~ Henderson was~ a very pleasing ~and~ amiabWgen~~ tlem&n. He could converse ratiohally and gracefully1 but without ever rising into. 'those siibjeots, 6r those per. tions of a subject, 'upon .wh.ioh, to converge7 well, xiiost persons must first have learued~te think independently for themselves. But,' in.the ordinary language of.cein~ monplaee and 'society, Henderson' could always ~be re~ spectable; and, being an observing man, he had gathered a sufficient supply of 'material :for' chitchat to ena~ ble him, usually, to prove interesting to ordinary c6in- paiiions. ~ 'We 2have seen . him taking' that side of the carriage upon which' sat Mrs. Fps~er; This lady Was comparatively young. ~he ~iad succeeded te~the"arms and name of Mr. Foster at early womanho~d, and~when he needed' a nurse' rathe~ than a wife." 'she had sui'vived~ him, without altogether surviving~ h~r youtb~ A good natural" constitution, vulgaflioalth, a lively ten~p~r, a~id an. exquisite feeling.' '~f'. satisfaction with.' herself,'. h~d served to "keep her in good bodily condition. 'She~W~4 in other words, :~, 1~uxoni widow, fair; .fat~ and forty; who did not 'wholly forget herself in taking care of tM fortunes of her step-daughter. She was vain and giddy; I page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] (A 4$ 4~GQ0D AS 4OOM~DY: OR, and, though satisfied that the devotion of Miles Hender- $on, not less thaii that of Randall Hammond, was wholly given to Geraldine, she was not the less satisfied with the external homage which she incidentally received. in con- - sequence. 'Sometimes, indeed, she seemed to forget the claimS~f h~r step-daughter wholly, and exhibited a degree of satisfaction. at, these attentions of the suitors, and an anxiety to monopoliza them, whichfrequently occasioned a smile among ~he~e parties. It was one of her causes of diss~ sfacjtio~i with Ulan mend, that he never suffered l~ ~~o niisconstrue his attentions. Approachizig her always wih profound civility, his address and style of' couversatioii, when directed to her, were never of a kind t~ si4Ter h~r to be iii any degree forgetful of the fact that she had a daughter as well as Jephthah; and the ~v~y ~o have won the heart of such~a woman was to have ~har~4.wjth herin s~me degree, a portion of that devo- tjon wLLic~ xxiost Won~en value b ey9nd all other posses- sjo~s, even where they do not design to ~eoEe or keep the worshipper., Hammond, perfectly aware of her ehaxa&~r, knew exactly whaV she wanted. But he was to0 proud a :person to marke any sacrifices to her vulgarity ~r vanity. lie was one of those'mexi who feel that, the course of true love aot only~d6~ not usually, but that it cannot, in ljhe nature. of things, often run smoothly;, and felt sure that a portion of his triumph must ensue from Wcapacityof -his future wife to risethrough affection, i~eriior t~ the di~~~uragemeut~ of' prejudice and &ornos~tic opposition. IJe was, perhaps, not u-nwil1ing-~tobe known to \~eraldine through the medium of- doubts which no- thhig but real affection would attempt to, overcome; and ~o~e knowledge of her char~ct~r persuaded h~in, indeed, that this wa~ really the most pQlitic course for the attaiiv. ment of lii~oject.. Accordingly, w~ haye- seen, him braying wha~t would ~eeni a., degree 4 -indifference to the game, wfii&h he-did ~ot feel. .1k showed no anxiety to take or keep. pQ$5eSslOZi- Qf The~ field;~ no feverish desire to hold hi~ gr9und in the presence of rivals; but,- en tI~e contrary , a ealinan4 coutteous readiness toshare TH1~ TRN~R8S]~AN'8 STORY. 149 all his opportunities with others; and, indeed, to f&r~go them wholly on occasion, giving way to~ the advances of those who were notoriously his rivals. Mrs. roster was greatly at a 1o~s,'for a whule,~to underste~nd- th~ policy of this seeming indifference; but her instincts eriaNed her to discover the truth, which her reasoning faculties never could have attained; the more particularly as she found that Geraldine iFoster,. flattered by the cons~an4 devotion of her suitors, was. somewhat piqued by 'the dignified refusal of Hammond to engage in the corn on struggle. With a vulgar policy, ;tlie mother's - object now -was. to' impress upon our heroine -an idea cC the arrogance of Hammond; his- -pride, which refused the - ordinary civilities which all lovers are prepared to be~ stow; and an insolent con~eiousne8s of superiority, which made him always anxious to deny the service which ~gal- lantry, and a sincere affection, would be only too -happy to perform. - His - refusal to run his horse at HilIa~bee, as we have seen, was oite of the instances- -whih- ~Ee found to produce the desired impression upon the mind of her prot6g& - To a. certain extent she had succeeded 'in producing this impression. The proud and haughty spirit -of Geraldine Fester, conscious of her~ charms, -and accustomed to the devotion of the other sex, and the envy of. ~ier own, was -mortified at the: little seeming power which she possessed over - almost the only ~i8fl whom she had -ever really desired to subdue. She, felt his strength, hi~ superiority. Her attention, when-he. spoke, acknowledged it; her anxiety for l~is- eoniingde.. dared it, even to herself; and the ~growing feeling~9f her dependence upon him made his apparent ind-ifferei~ce-- only the more offensive to her vanity and-~painfu1 to her heart.' The step-mother had worked, not unsuccessfully, upon these feelings; hut Geraldine was 'so much- a crea- ture of ~mpulse that the work of months might be undone - - in a moment.- A. -happy accident~-might bring -the-lovers together in explanation, and mutual sympathies, sh.dden~ Jy rendered active, and- seeing under the- influence'~ of favoring circumstances, might render the deterniined - page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] AS OOOI~ ~&S A GOM~DY: OI~, will of Gerald e~stic1van~ ally of her heart as to defeat fo~everthe subtle designs if The hostile mother. 'it~~as tJi&.gaine of tl~eI~tter, thcrefor0, to piovoke disgust in th~ mind of the girl, to annoy her pride into resentment; ~ud~ '#ei~ing upon some particular' moment of moitiflca~ ~ti&~, to 'fpt~e her into eng~agenients which should be fatal W i~he hopes of Eammond. Her iabor~ to this point "had' produced' piq1~e only, and' not disgust in the ~boso~xi ~f. Geraldine; and this feeling, Mrs. Foster had the s6nse to understand, was rather'favorable than ~therwi~e to the hope~of the lover. It declared his pos- session of a power,. already, in the heart 'of 'the capri- ~i~us heauty;'whieh' felt his neglect rather' as a loss and & ~denial than as provocation of scorn; and the '~tep- ,ndher~ trembled as she sa~v~that it was far 'easier f~r Geraldine to f~el the alleged neglect and indifference of' iLamiuoi~d than to defy or to resent 'it. If he ~was not altogether consciouS of the sort of~game Mrs~. Foster 'was disposed to~ play and was plating; his own was one that -tended greatly to overcon~e. and baffle it. His jylan of operations has been already sufficiently described.' 'ft con'siste4 simply in. the maintenance of ;th~.~ost digiiified civilities, and in foregoing no courte- ~ks,,inyerforming them with a grace as perfect as pos- 'bible, and in~studying how to interest the object of his atten~tions, without seeming to be engaged in any such study, or to possess any such interest.'~ If the plan was *is~ly conceived, it was as' dextrously carried out. -Ru~idall ilaunnolid' was 'no ordinary man. lie was a ~'pe~sdn, emphatically, of character; With a strong will and iery~ passions; but a~. stern, methodical, and well- ordered judgment, which ei~hled .him to subdue himself ~t~the --required moment, 'and- reject from his eyes all ~the 'disguises of prejudice, and ~fro~ his tongue all the ~petuous-~resolves of passion.. He was ~nevetmore for- ttinate in his game than 'when escorting the ladies from lillahee~ We have seen with what temper b~th:of them left' the ground. 'Mrs~ Foster, quite dissatisfied with the results of the r~cing--as they not only left her favorite TIE~T~sEEA~'S aToUY. beaten, but' ~proved the correct judgment 'of Hammond in an exercise in whThh he did not himself indulge;, and Geraldine, piqued and offended at the perverted lap' guage reporte&of Hammond, so conclusively con~irmin the representations of Mrs. Foster, and. so 'dis g seemingly, to Geral4ine'. herself. 'Hammoiid soon 'dis~ covered that something was wrong, and having su~eien~t clues to the character of Mrs. Foster,, and. perfeovi~ty aware of' her feeling for himself, he readily understood that the mischief was in' her. iBut there was no way to make a direct issue, and he was not one of that feverish race who refuse to leave anything'- ito timeb He~was content to pursue his own' game as if nothir* had happened, and to make himself agreeable 'in, g of' his enemy. His resources were all' accordingly put in exercise, and even henderson .wondei~ed at: the exhi-' bition of conversational powers which 'he never dreamed that his friend possessed. iBut friends are kpnerally th~ last 'to appreciate the powers of one another, since they seldonvreeognize those feelings of mutualprovoeation hy which alone' they can be. made to develop themselves. Gradually, Geraldine forgot her pique and. disqiiietin the delight which she experienced at the racy remark, the keen point, 'the pleasant anecdote, containedin the con- versation of her companion; and- it was with feelings of vexation, at beholding a progress that she could not prevent, That Mrs. Foster threw herself back in 4he carriage, -and surrendered herself to' .a protracted spell of silence and bad humor, answering' Henderson only in monosyllables, and compelled, in spite 'of 'herself,, to listen to the dialogue which seemed equally to. ~ihow t1~ie indifference of both the parties to all her:intrigues~ The cavalcade reached~ the residence of Mrs. Foster 'in this, 'manner: Geraldine, if. not perfectly reconcile& to Hammond, forgetting for the moment all 'hers causes 'of complaint; ~Miles 'H&iderson a little dulled 'by what he saw 'of the success of his friend;l3ut reconciled to his own apparent decline of fortune ~by the, conviction that. his' fortunate rival was indeed his 'friend; while page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] TEE T ~E$SFJ3~A~'s STORY~ 1.68 I~62 A8~ GOOD A0 A CQMDDY: OR, Mrs. Foster brooded over other schemes for 'fomenting anew the displeasure of her step-daughter. "Foster Lodge" was. a place of considerable beauty. The immediate approach to it was through a broad avenue, itearly a mile in length, guarded and overshad~ owed from each side by the sta1~eliest elms~ and oaks. The dwelling stoodnpon a genfle eminence, with a broad and sweet1y~sloping. lawn of green on each side' of the avenue, extending nearly to the public road. The house ~was half shaded by great trees, a modest dwell- ing of two stories, with a piazza 'fronting' the avenue, the~ roof of which, concealed by a parapet, was sustained by six great columns, tht4 rose upmajestically from the basement~to the upper story. Dinner was in waiting when the parties arrived. 11am and turkey smoked ~upon the board, and there were birds. and fowl, 'eggs and milk, &nd the usud va- riety of vegetables, so certain to be found in ally good farmsteads. Mrs. Foster was an economist. She 'was a; farmer's daughter; a poor' one too; and had been early taught in lessons Qf thrift and painstaking. These ~he had not Lorgottenin her improved fortunes. in- deed, they were her virtues. Her estates thrived~ in her hands; and, if not' a good tutor for the daughter, she was a very good nurse of her property. ~This was ample, if' not~ large. It wasp the misfortune of Mrs. Foster that, she did' not esteem it ample. This was one of her reasons for preferring' Jones Barry to either of her present guests. 'The fact of his greater wealth, and " that~ feebler 'character ~hich made him subservient to ', Mrs~. Foster's humors, were the chief sources 'of that. favor'Which he had found in the good lady's sight. Dinner' passed off' pleasantly.' Hammond continued in the same ~humor which 'had accompanied him from the race-course. II~yen Mrs. Foster, herself, was 'some- ~times compelled to'smile at his 'sallies; and' when she did not,' it 'was only from the annoying conviction that they were rapidly 'undoing all her work. lIt was night befQI~e the party rose from table,~ and a short interval was afforded for promenading in. thQ piazza, before t~a was set. This was tWiowed by, music. Gcraldine &an~ and played like. aii angel; this, at lea8t, was the ~opew~ mouthed deelarati~n of Jones Baxry, in her oWz~ hiing,; an~ bQth flenderson and'~ li~mrnond were ~eud0wed ~with rich and ~tolerably well-triPned voices.~ , ~Chey ~cc&rn~ pau~ied the lady; while; at intervals, 'they r~sun~d, the conversation, either with hei~self ~or' the ~ lit was, eleven o'clock before any of the party seeni~ed to suspect the Iiight of Time, a~d then they were vniy apprised of the fact by hammond rising '~t~ take Iii~ leave. "But why.ndt stay all night?" wa&. the fr~an~ 'dew mand of Geraldine. Mrs. Foster addressed the same inquiry to Henderson. The latter looked to Harnm~ind entreatingly; but, true to his policy, he declared the necessity for being at homie early in the morning; 'a~n4 he had' promised bis mother, who wodd sit, i~p and e~ pect him, to return that nighL. lie had five wiles' to ride. "But 'you, Miles," said he to his friend,, '~ you' need not ride. You can stay." This speech again worried 'both mother and daughter. It seefoed strange that one ~ really loved a. lady should encourage a rival, to keep possession of her ear; and should give him ~opportunities. But Jl~nder~eu felt ashamed of the Weakness which prompted hii~ t~ ,take advantage of the permission; and, somewhat de~pe~ rtvtely, declared his purpose, to ride aflso. .. He ha4 ~eu~' gagements also Which required ~iis early. rising;' a~1d~iz4 short, the gentlemen sooii took their departure together; the ladies, one of .them ~,t least, 8inking d Wnu~pQ~ The sofa with 'an air of sullen disappointment. ~" A ~co1d, haughty upstart !" was the2. e~eJamation'6f "Who, mother! of whom do you speak?'?' "Of whom~? Why 'Hax~imond. . Re, is not capable of' any feeling bu~ pride. H~ is pride and ambition. ~all 9v~r Re love! He has no mote heart tha~n a, mill- as us page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] AS' GOOD AS A O0M~Y~ OR, stotie, and s~ems.to look upon' women cinly' 'as so many ez'eat'iires' made to wait upon man, and minister t~ hi~ wants and pleasures." "~ " Well! I wonder howit is 'you can see 'things in this light. ~kw, really, Mr. Hammond 'seems to me to be equally a man' of feeling 'and sense.' 'lie ~peaks like one. fle' doe~ti't throw about 'him his sentiments, and he wastes no , professions on the air; "1~ut he gives to every subject the proper sympathy that it seems 'to re- quire; and 'it can't '1e 'denied that he can.' discuss '~the greateSt variety of subjects, 'a~ad. in the most interesting manner. ' ning !"- "Oh I'. he has subtlety, and 'wit, and cun "Cunning! Well, that is the very last 'word which I should ever have used' in speaking of 'Mr. hammond. I see no proof of it. 'He is to'o frank, too bold a man, to ~be cunning ;'. and is partici4arly free "'from it, I'm su~e, in dealing"with ladies. Who ever hearS him coin- pliinent one's~ singing or playing except, perhaps, by his attention ?" ""That's hi~ cunning~!" "'Well, I' confess, ii like it better' than" that silly' art~ lessness Awhich~ whether you play well. or ill; rewards you 'with the. same undiscriminating 'flattery. But he goes further. ~~He has 'told me plainly, on more 1~han one~ occasion; where II made a false note, or sung with false emphasis, or blundered, in any respect; for his ear is quite ~ ~ood as his opinion is honest."' "That's his ~unning'again'! He sees that you dis- like the co~nmon talk, and he changes 'it 'to suit you." Something more tb.an'that, mother,: What' 'did he say to"both of us last week about gentleine~ii proffering themselves, as a matter of gallantry, to pick up a lady's, glo~~e, or handkerchief, running across the floor ,to do so, when it lies, at her own feet,' and she might pick It up herself?"" "Well, and'he"is only & cub for his opinions." ~" On the contrary, another, .1 think~ 'he is quite right. I quite agree With him, that it is' enfeebling, and, so enslaving, women, to do for them~,those. things which it is proper f~r them,. and easy, to do for theiri- selves;, that it makes us improperly; dependent. upon men, when we expect theni to serve us im any besides ~substantial and weighty. 1a~bors, which it is' iuconsi~ ent with the nature of. our sex to udertake';' thati" it impairs the dignity of ~he man,, and, while putting woman into. a false position, ~ender8 hi~w capricious, and ~makes her, in the end, the victim of. a tyranny.~'. *" All an artful. notion to excuse his own eubbishnoss, and want of gallantry." "Well, now, niothor, you certmi~aly can reproach him far. iio want of' courtesy and civility, throughout ~the day. He has been with us, the only gentleman' who never. left us during all the racing.", "That's his policy. He stuek' to' yoz&, as a matter of~ course." ~~Yet, in the same, breath, you de~c4be him as lack~ ing in the, usual devotion~-..as being haughty, and too proud and "I see, Miss Geraldine Foster, that your heat'ss ~set upon this 'match. I see that you'll throw yourself 'into his ~rrns whether he will or no "What you say, mother, let me tell .youx, is not likely to prevent me. Bitt there's no danger oftha#~ ] c9n- f'ess, I think 'him a very superior man to any of my other suitors. You can't deny his superi6rity." "By no means; he's a wit, and a colo~teL of militia, and they t~jk of sending him tQ.the legislatui~e or O~nr gress' and, I.sup~esc a.you~g lady ~t,,do.betterVth~ tO flu ug herself head~oiug into the arms of: so promising person. . But I, ~ean tell you thjs, Mis~. tPo~t~r, th~t, when I was of your age, 'the man WhQ 'swore that' he knew nor woman for '~h~ he would rui~ hi~ h~r~e, and that, too, 'when' the young lady he waseourting wo~ en~ treating him to do so, would be courtesies out with a~ 'No, sir, I'm obliged to you, 'hut beg to be exeused.'r~' "I dpn't know that Mr. illamniond is seeking me, mother, and it's very certain he is not courting me; but 1' V STORY. '155 page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 157T tEis I cax~ tell ~ '~hat, if2 over ke~ho~ld do s~, he shall he 'made to swallQW that ~peeoh. "lie certainly; before heget~ 'this htrnd, sh~dt run) a race f&r' it#1f~ ~ha11!' "Will" yo~t stick to that ?~' de~naiide4 th~ mother, Tt'a~ow; ~b~geWWho~n"7 And the elevated form, the ifashixig eye, and &xte'nded' ~haiid, lifted upward "as~ she iitt~red" this rash resohtion,~ to which the keen onnnrng 6f' the mother had goaded her hxqiulsi~ ~~pirit, pr-ese~te&n'fine subject f~r'the di'ama~ 'tic.painter. "Only~ stick to "that, Geraldine~ and ~yo'wi'll te~t1 his passion' You l.l'~e which he thinks of m,&st; this lad~ 4 'hit love, or hi~a ii~on gray. I t~l1yoii, his s&ul is full of mixle pride, he's ~a~" obstinate in what he says as if the Aole world§wa;s boutid to give~way~o him.". "T sha ~i t give way tQ him! .11e711 find me' asfii ~d~r~ud as himself. ib~haii rtii~ hishorse ~he shall ia~e ~heth~'h~ 'Iike~ it' 'or not, jf~"h&~ha~ any hope of me.. :But he does 'not think of~ me, mother. you're wistakem" '~ '' fli~4 was ~tii4 with' ~at~ ~air f despondelicy, as" the maiden threw1 herself upon "the '~ofa aud~ covered' her face with bier ha~ids. ;" And what if'lae does not?" resp~nde4 the mother; 4' ~you r&~ly~ axe net'. s6 'badly off for b~a~' that you '~need careI~hether lie' 's' br tiot. I don't' thi~k he eti~r~s inu~h'for anybody 'but, himself. 1' tell yo~ii, he's' t~o r'oi~d f~r 1oy~~f~ 'ant W6rnan; as you mmy~aul~po5e; wh~xi' he ~~&ti1y' 4~ol~te~ that he~ will not riw~ his horse fpr~11 the favors of 'the "'sex. Only you stb~k to yot~r ~o~; and you~l ~e'~hat 1~i"s love~will come to.?! N "~ H~ '~ha1i do i~, jf he seeks heart ~r ~hand~of mine. ~t~' sh~d1 d~ it,~he shaflt" We~ ulay ad& thati -the' '~eZ- ~ellt' did' not suffer hex~ to forget the ~ 5" CHAPTER XII. TOUGHNESS OF THE TENDER GENDER. WE must skip, without notice, the events of several weeks, in which but little apparent prQgress was made on any hand. The parties met frequently, now at church, now at evening assemblages~~of friends and still, as before, very frequently at the dwelling of 'our hero-" me. Randall Hammond eontinue4~ his policy, though with a misgiving, which gradually increased with the increase of his passion; and an eye less anxious, and ~ mind less excitable than that of Geraldine's, would have readily detected, at particular moments, the proofs~ of this strengthening interest. But what with her own feelings engaged in the issue, and the continued an4 perverse hostility of Mrs. Foster 'to the claims of our hero, she was kept in the same dogged mood towards him in which we have beheld, her while 'taking the strange vow' recorded, in the preceding chapter.. He saw and felt the influence, but was without any means to meet and to contend with it; unless by the exercise of the same patience which he had hitherto displayed, and the unwearied exhibition of those talents and '~e~ source's which had rendered him still agreeable in her eyes in the teeth of all her prejudices. His mother, it, may be mentioned in this place, had expressed h~r doubts of the propriety of his seeking in marriage the hand of Geraldine Foster. Of the young lady~herself,' ~the venerable dame knew nothing, except from hearsay; and rumor rather exaggerated defects than acknowledged virtues. The objections of Mrs. Hammond lay' tQ the step-mother, whom she knew as a pert housekeeper em~ played in a neighboring family, when she wasproirioted 14 'F 156 A$ QO~A5 A~oeM~DY: Oi~, TlE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 168 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, by Foster, then sinking with ai feeble constitution, and "equally feeble mind, into imbecility. She regarded her influence over the stepdaughter as vicious and dan- gerous, and, whatever might be the individual endow- ments of the girl, she insisted upon their abuse and per-, version in the hands of such a guardi~in. We have seen that she is' right in some measure; but she overrated the influence of the one, and underrated the powers of resistance of the other.. The girl, in reality, in many 'respects, controlled the won~an. The latter, conscious of low birth~ and 'inferior education, though naturally clever, was submissive to the daughter in most social respects; and it was only where the latter was necessa- rily diffident, as in the case of her affections, that she exercised~ any influence over her sufficiently powerful to baffle 'the impulses of her own judgment. In affairs of the heart, or, rather, where young persons are called upon to decide between two or more faVorites, the adroit' suggestions of third" parties hav0 always more or less weight. The mind distrusts itself but too frequently whei~ the affections, are busy with its decisions; and it is because of this fact, that we find so many of that perni- cious class called match-makers in the world. They interpose when the will of the interested person is at fault. They profess friendship, and it is at, such a time i~hat the poor heart longs for such a succor. They in- sinuate doubts, or suggest motives,~ and determine the scales, for or against a party, by 'such arguments or in- nuendoes as are most likely to influence the feeble nature which relies upon. them. Mrs. Foster's hold upon Ge- raldine, in this matter, lay in the morbidly active pride of the damsel. This she contrived to goad and irritate by ~daily 8t~ggestionS, in which the most innocent move- ments of! Hammond were perverted. ~The fear of Mrs. JJammond,'~with regard to her influence upon Miss Fos- ter, went still farther. She dreaded lest she should govern her in all respects; lest she should have tutored all her moods and feelings 'by the low moral standards by which the ' step-mother~ herself 'was influenced; and TILE TEN~ESSRflA~'S STOltY. 169 have made her equally selfish and presumptuous with herself; coarse in her aims, narrow in her opinions; jealous of the worth which she never sought to eiwilate; and ambitious of society, not for its real advantages of mutual training and attrition, but for its silly dispTh~ys and petty ostentatious. We need not repeat that, in these apprehensions, Mrs. Hammond labored under error; but she did not the less entertain them. A long and serious conversation with her son, the day after his return from the races at Hil- labee, was devoted to this subject. Tn this conversation, she freely declared her objections to the n~iatch with such a person, related all that she had 'heard of Geraldine, and told her son all that she knew of the step-mother, concluding with an earnest entreaty that he would lodk in some other quarter for the exercise of his affections. She was even good enough to mention the names of two or three young' ladies of their acquaintance, whose charms were considerable, and against whom there lay no such objections as she entertained for Miss Foster. But the son, though grateful for this counsel, as frankly told his mother that it fell upon unheeding senses; that he was really and deeply attached 'to Geraldine,; that he was not blind to her faults, ~nd knew her 't6 be equally proud and eccentric; but her pride, he said, arose from a high spirit, sensible only of right purposes, and her eccentricities were the growth of a superior 'intellect, under an 'irregular education, and were due in some degree to a consciousness of independence,' falsely founded, perhaps, of the circle in which she moved. Like other lovers, Hammond expressed the opinion that her eccentricities would. certainlyy be cured by marriage, particularly under the admirable domestic system which he was prepared to establish. For the s~tep-mother, he had nothing to say. He had certainly ~no defence to offer. She was pretty much the woman that hi~ mother had described her. Besides, she was evidently hostile& to himself. But her' influence over her step-daughter was nothing. If' exercised in any way, it was, only iii page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 1~O AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, opposition. to himself', and he could readily understand how she might operate successfully .by artifices, pa~rticu- larly in dealing with' a person who was herself truthful and unsuspicious, where, she might never attain any in-. fluence t~y open authority. lie continued, by repeating the assurance to his mother that he felt too much in- terested in the lady to forego his attentions, but that he should watch her conduct narrowly, and not risk his peace upon any object to whom such objections could apply as those which she had urged. lie concluded by ex- pressing his desire that his mother would visit Mrs. Foster, and see the young lady for herself. There was no good reason why she should not do so. it is true she did not like Mrs. Foster, but if people, visited only those whom they liked, society would be almost empty of individuals. Mrs. Foster had called upon her, and had invited her to her ho~ise. True, she might remem- ber her as a pert housekeeper, but she was now a house- holder ; .and if pert in this capacity, it was a fault which could be charged upon a thousand others. At all events Mrs. Foster was no worse than her neighbors, so far as the world was permitted to see. And to recognize her as everybody else 'did, would in no degree impair the ancient position which Mrs. Hammond held in the pub- lic esteem. If any other reason were wanting, it was undoubtedly to be found in the probability of her son establishing an alliance' with this very family, when, as a matter of course, all difference of relative position must be overthrown forever. The worthy old lady sighed as she acknowledged the truth of these reasoning, and prepared to submit to them._~At an early day her' carriage was ordered, and Mrs. Foster *was confounded when she heard that the equipage of the stately old lady was in 'progress u~ the avenue. This was a triumph to her vanity which would have been eminently grai4fied, but that it seemed to operate against her project of marrying her daughter to Barry. One of her. favorite topics of denunciation, where Hammond. was concerned, was his own and his TR~fl T~LNNESSEEANS STORY. 101. mother's arrogance; ~and the rt~glect of the' latter to return her visits was an argument for, the truth of her assertions. I3ut neither Geraldine nor herself was in- sensible to the compliment paid by this visit. Mrs. Hammond was at the very head of society in that .iieigh..' boyhood. 11cr position was unquestionable. Hers was one of the oldest families; i~nd the dignity which she maintained, along with the virtues of benevolence and hospitality.-.-.to speak of ho other of the Christian ~hari- ties-all of which were eminently conceded to her, ren- dered her quite as much beloved as respected. it had been rather injurious to Mrs. Foster's pretensions in society, that Mrs. Hammond had not recognized them. TIiat she did so now, at this late, day, was undoubtedly something gained ; but the perverse pride in her heart prompted a feeling of resentment at the visit so long deferred, and she suddenly exclaimed to Geraldine-.-~ "We won't see her. She has taken her time about it, and we will take ours. Let Ch~ra go and tell 'her we are not at home.'' "No, indeed, mother! that won't d~. You will gain nothing by it; for people will only say~ you. hate done it for spite. Mrs. Hammond is not a woman to be slighted. However we may feel her neglect of us, she is a lady of worth and character; and I can't thitik of showing her 'any resentment. Besides, I feel none. I' remember her when she used to visit my own dear 'mo- thor, though I was but a child; and I have' heard father speak of her as his friend, when he needed, friendship. Indeed, I have heard that she lent him a large sum of money to save his mills; and, in 'the settlement of' the afthirs of the estate with Lawyer Griffin, I see the re~ payment only took place the year before my father died~ No! she has had some reason, I suppose,. for keeping away, and that' she comes now shows that these reasons exist no longer. We must see her. I feel nothing but respect for' Mrs. Hammond." This was said in a way to silence opposition. But the step-mother had the last word, framed in a fashion 14* page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNESSEEA~i's STORY. 16~ that she had been too much accustomed to employ of late to forego very readily. "It's just as you will, my dear. You have very good reasons for what you say ;~but I rather think that ifyour heart did not incline so much to seeing the son, your reasons wouldn't be half so good for seeing the mother. Take care now.; I see what's coming. You will be overawed by the consequential old woman, until you submit~to the consequentitd young man, and then good-by to all your freedom. I know you, Geraldine Fos1~er; you'll be imposed upon by the high heads of these people,. until you forget all your resolutions." "And I tell you, mother~, that' you know nothing about~ Geraldine Foster, if you think she is to be im- posed upon by a~nybody. I am-" "Well, hush now, before the old witch hears you. She's coming into the parlor now." Geraldine muttered something about the improper use of the epithet old witch, and Mrs. Foster sniggered at the rebuke. The affairs of the toilet proceeded in silence,~ and the daughter was the first who was ready to descend. "She shall wait for me," said the mother, proceeding very leisurely. Geraldine left the room, and descended to th~ parlor. She felt a little awe, certainly~ as she entered the rotm and encountered the tall, stately form of the venerable woman, with her dark dress, and her formal mob cap. But the benevolent manner, and the sweet tones of tjie old lady's voice reassured her. "I know you, my child, by your dear mother. She was my intimate friend. She Was a kind and loving person. You have her eyes and. mouth. Your fore- head and nose are your father's, and you are tall, like your father also. Your. mother was rather short, but she ~as so ~reli made that she did not seem so, unless when standing close to others. If you have her heart, my child, as you certainly have all her beauty.-" The old lady squeezed the hands of the girl,, but failed to see the humid witnesses which were gathering * in her eyes. Those of the speaker were already wet. The sympathies of the two were becoming active, ;and Mrs. Hammond had already reproached our heroine with having failed,, since her return home, after a lapse of several years, to seek out one of her mother's most intimate friends; and Geraldine, who had been kept from doing so only by the perverse influence of her step- mother, was awkwardly seeking to aecouiit and apolo- gize for the neglect, when the door was flung wide, and Mrs. Foster sailed into the room, blazing in her best silks; and making as formidable a show of trinkets as if she were the belle of the, evening. At her appear- ance, the whole manner of Mrs. Hammond seemed t~ change. She drew up to her fullest height her tall erect person. Her eye assumed a severe simplicity of gaze, which entirely changed its 'expression; and her reception of the new-coiner, Geraldine could .not but remark, was singularly unlike that which had met her appearance. The' truth is, the absence of simplicity, the obtrusive ostentation of Mrs. Foster's manner, a mixture at once of dignity and assumption which. was neither confidence nor ease, brought out, all the native superiority of her. visitor, Besides, she. remeitibered her as the usurper, foisting herself by cunning upon the weakness of a dying man, and succeeding to a posi- tion in society for which her training and education had not prepared h.er. The first meeting between the two, already prepared to be belligerents, was productive of impressions which strengthened their mutual dislikes and distrusts. Mrs. Foster was boisterous and con- fident; talked recklessly, as if her purpose had 'been to show nothing but scorn Qf all the usual modes~ of think- ing and feeling, all the forms and manners, which 'her .guest had been wont to hold in reverence. The deport- ment of Mrs. flammond was the reverse of this; but. it was so full of a dignity jealous of assault, and reso- lute against intrusion; so cold in its stateliness, so steru in its simplicity, that ouP heroine, though vexed at the bearing of her" step-mother, was not less chilled and 12 16$ page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 AS GOOD AS A COMEDYY: OR, THE TENNE~5EEAN'5 STORY. 165 offended by that of her visitor. We need not detail the progress of the interview. The call was a very short one, and the parties separated mutually dissatisfied. Mrs. Hammond, chafed with the impertinence ~of Mrs. Foster, and disposed to see in Geraldine (who had been very quiet) nothing but the susceptible creature whom the step-mother had fashioned in all respects to resem- ble herself; while the latterthough not exactly satisfied with herself, was yet confirmed in all her grudges and ancient hosLilities, as she felt the cold supremacy of that bearing which she had bullied, without being able to forsake or overcome. "There," said she to Geraldine, when her visitor, had been bowed down the steps; "there you have her in full; the queen of Sheba, with her head in the clouds and her fs~et among the stars. She's as proud as Lucifer. You'd have a fine chance with her as a mother-in-law. She'd rule you with a rod of iron. Do you smile, it's a look; do you laugh, it's a scold; would you dance, it's a sermon; and so day by day, until you're broken down with the sulks and sours: no milk could keep sweet long under that face of vinegar." Geraldine was silent. She, too, had been disappointed the visit. She could see that there was something wrong in the carriage and language of her mother; but unfortunately, her ear had become too much habituated to the modes of speech and thinking of the 'latter to feel, in full force, the improprieties of her conduct; and she regarded the stern deportment of Mrs. Hammond as totally unprovoked by~anything that had taken place. She was quite, ignorant of that past history of the step- mother which their visitor knew too well, and it was really in some degree as the sincere friend of Geral- dine's own mother that the soul of the old' lady revolted. ~t her substitute. But this the young lady was, yet to learn. She, as we have said, was silent; while Mrs~ Foster ran, on in a strain cunningly calculated at once to express her own hostility and to alarm the fears of Geraldine. She painted the tyrannical mother of Ham- mond subduing all the spirit of his young wife, of any wife whom he should bring home; restraining all her innocent desires, chiding her sentiments, and keeping her in such a bondage to her antiquated notions, as would effectually quell all her sweetest impulses, and embitter all her youth with the mere caprices of author- ity. From the mother she passed, by a natural tran- sition, to the son. He was the true child of his mother; cold, 'stern, unbending, despotic. She was eloquent on this theme; she recalled and dwelt upon,~ with perverse ingenuity, every incident that could serve for its illustration,' and it was only when she broke down with utter exhaustion that she ~was content to stop. Poor Geraldine said nothing. She was certainly im- pressed by what she heard. The speech of Mrs. Foster was not without ingenuity. Yet the girl thought of Hammond with kindly feelings. lit was only when her temper was roused that she was' disposed to side com- pletely 'with 'her cunning and dishonest counsellor. Somehow, she could not concur with her now, even in respect to the stately mother. Though chilled to the heart by the progress) of the interview, she yet remem- bered the sweetness with which-it had begun. How different had been the deportment of the 'old lady before her step.moth'er made her appearance t How kindly had she spoken; with what affectionate re- membrance did she seem to dwell on the personal appear- ance and the virtues of her mother; , surely, she had seen the gathering tears in her soft blue' eyes at the very moment when she felt thatcher own were filling. Whence, then, the change.~ how could the appearance of her step-mother have effected it? T~iere was a nays- tery in this, and' the aroused heart of Geraldine brooded over it; and~ daily, with an increasing pleasure, did she remember The' sweet words and the sad tears which the mother of Hammond ha'd shared with herself when the two were alone together. ' page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] THE TENNE~SEEAN'$ STORY6 167 166 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, CHAPTER XIII. SOME TALK OF MARRIAGE. BUT an event was now at hand which was calculated to divert the thoughts of Geraldine Foster into other channels. Her seventeenth birthday was approaching, a period of immense importance to all young damsels. It was destined to be regarded as such in the present instance.. Already, for more than a month previous, the rumor had gone abroad through the neighboring country, of a great fete to be given at the "Lodge." Supplies for the occasiofl were already making their appearance. Wagons from Savannah and Augusta, ladei~ with good things, were seen arriving, and public expectation was on tiptoe for the event. In due season our young men were all honored with invitations to the birthday f~te9 Mrs. Hammond was also included in this compliment, though Mrs. Foster was pleased to say, while her step-daughter was penning the invitation, that she knew "very wet that the haughty old hag would never come again." She was mistaken, as we shall see hereafter. Th&truth is, as regards herself and her own feelings, it neVer would have been the wish of Mrs. Ham- mond to darken the doors of a lady like Mrs. Foster, for whom she could never feel esteem; but the case was ~altered in respect to Geraldine. She regarded the latter as the innocent, though perhaps misguided child of a very dear friend, 'and~ on this account alone she was prepared to treat3 her with solicitous considera- tion. There was yet a better reason. Mrs. Hammond had now satisfied herself that the affections of her son were really engaged to the maiden; too deeply engaged, indeed, to render prudent any farther exhortations and warnings on her part. She resolved, therefore, instead of discouraging with a vain importunity his pursuit of the object, to yield herself to his cause, and contribute,. as far as it would be becoming in her, to the promotion of his wishes. She distinguished, accordingly, between the girl and the silly step-mother; and, while.revolting at the offensive frivolities and forwardnesses of~the latter, was prepared to take the other, as the future wife of her son, to her most affectionate embraces. This determi- nation led her to accept an invitation which she other~ wise might have treated With indifference. It must not be supposed, however, because we find Mrs. iEoster speak..~ ing in offensive terms of Mrs. Hammond, that the visit of the latter had been disagreeable to her, or that she had failed in returning it. Thj~ was very far, from being the case. While she disliked to meet with the old lady, from a real feeling of inferiority, and 'from a painful con- sciousness that Mrs. Hammond knew more of her real history than anybody else; she yet felt the importance, in a social point of view, of appearing to maintain an intimacy with one of a .i~nk so unquestionable. She soon, with Geraldine, returned the visit in which she had behaved with so mueh insolent familiarity; and was re- ceived with the sweet benignity, mingled with dignity,. which so becomes a well-bred lady in the character of a hostess. Geraldine could not but feel the superiority of bearing in this venerable representative of a passing age, to that to which she was accustomed* and~ could scarcely reconcile the gentleness and meekness of the old iady'~ manner and tone with~ that which was so commanding in her carriage and so irnpressiye in what she uttered. True to her decision, and regarding the possible relation in which the maiden might yet stand in regard tQ her son, Mrs. Hammond was particularly anxious to please her younger visitor.. While the three ladies traversed the gar- den, which was a very ample and ~eautiful Qne, she loiter- ed with the younger of the three, and again renewed the subject of her intercourse with her mother. The garden itself afforded a sufficient reason for recalling the ~ubjeot. page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, Mrs. Hammond's taste for flowers had been greatly in- flueneed by the superior sympathies, for these lovely creations, of the first Mrs. Foster; and it waS in the power of the former to indicate to Geraldine a fact, of which she was now for the first time made conscious, that the garden at the "Lodge" had been laid out exactly of the size and plan of that which she now ex- amined. Its fate, how ever, had been very different. While the latter was blooming in full perfection and variety, the former had grown into a waste with weeds. Geraldine only resolved to make amends to the memory of her mother by restoring her favorite fruits and flowers. The judicious manner of Mrs. Hammond, the equal delicacy and adroitness with which she had again man- aged to speak to the young girl of her mother, and to show the tender. int?~rest which she herself felt for her memory, were by no means thrown away upon the daughter, who was sensibly touched, as well by the manner as by the matter of her venerable hostess. Mrs. Foster beheld this with some~ disquiet, and more than once contrived to divert the conversation to other and far less interesting topics. She herself was treated 'with the greatest deference, Mrs. Hammond being at pains, for the sake of the ward, to treat the guardian as' if she fully deserved to be such a custodian. At the end of an hour, the visitors were prepared to depart, and Randall Hammond made his appearance just in time to see the ladies to the carriage. A few days after came the invitation to the f~$te. "You will go, dear mother, will you not ?" was the inquiry of Hammond, uttered in pleading accents. She was disposed to plague him, and expressed herself doubtfully. "' I don't know. II am old~ These night parties are not good for me, and I don't enjoy them." "But, for my sake, mother." I' I don't~ know but that, for your sake, I ought to stay away. I am half afraid to give any encourage- ment to this pursuit." TUZ TZ N~88BEAN'S 0TORY. I6~ "Oh~ don't s~y so, mother; ;do~i't. think so." "Oh, hut I n~ttst think , ~an4afl~" s~id the ~ol4 lady, witi4re~I gravity ;~, '~ for 1 confess I am D~Ot~S*ti8* fled that Geraldine ]~'oster i~the h~4y for yoi(, That foolish step-mother h~s~don her hest ~o spoil her.". "But She is not' spQiled."' " Perhaps not. Of that I can say nothing4 but~ what doesthe world say?" "Mere scand~i,1:' warrant-you.". "Nay,. nay, Randall ;x ~we~ i~an't so ~asily. disn~iss the popular' report. We hear ~v~ry day of her eecentpk cities;' ~f her riding wild horses without a saddle, Ieap~. ing high fences, and. eventhreatening John "Estes with hoi~ewhip and pistoL". ' "I"shawznother ~ ridiculous!" "Ridiculous, it .may be, but, snot wboll'y~ :'~ant~ng in. truth.' Our eld ~ieighhor, Jacob ~arnes~'tells ne tE~& he has it from'Peter ~Estes, d~e brother of John" "'Be assured, a, w'ho1esale~ 'fals~hood.~.. :-This7-J~a~. Estes it~s the overseer for Mrs. '2~ster,: and was ~ nii~sed by liar for neglect and insolence.. H~ noAoubt reveng~s. himself by all ,sQrts of falsehoods.~,, lie ?i$ ~. worthless. felkw, I know; but if. I hear him at "ders, let him bi~ cross my path with them, ndVfl-.4~ "'Come, . come, Randall! iione of thiat.~ Yow ~o only too 'ready to take, up the cudgels for 9tlWr people~ You are not 'yet ai.ithorized to be the champk~n 1~f%~. or Ger~iidine; and I'n'i afraid as I he~r 4he story, that the y~un~la4y can be ~hex~ owii ~hpi~~i~ anct~ill ~be apt to reject your assista~nce.~ - arness~ya~ on the repoi~t of Peter listed, that, 'whe~. JoI~~4.~ minded his full': year's wages, Mrs. Poster Qtd~red l~4- froxwthe hou~e;.a~i&he~ not~' e~u~g m~ ~y~tQ.~bey her, ~ Ge~ldin~ th t~ued. ~hini:with ith0 j~O~* whip,, and 89 d 4ispQse4~t~use.i~.~' 4t~alVeve~ts, as 'nespbrase~itfJohn~ ~s~e;i~ ~ . off9iid~ible'q&ktinie~, There's zie doubt som~e~ it." ~ . "7 7-' 7-. 4' ' " page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] ~soot'A~ A'e6Mx0x~ ox~, "Yes{ ho 'do~ibt'hodeserved The whip for 'his ,inso- i~u~e ~ auid; in h~r indignation' she told him so." ~" But 'Bates reports that she~ sot: her fathers pistols, ~txId\'said shewashot afraid to user thorn; end' prof~s~ed ~o be as~oxpe~t with thorn' &s any ~nan~"z. "PsEaw!' another exaggeration, quite as easily ex~ pI~ined~ WW~~n~turally 'wowl4' a ~you~ng womar~ Wish 'that~ she were' a man to 'pistol an iusole~t' fellow who dared to bi4ly her at her own firesidel" ~' Still, itirson, you would prefer that such ~ speech s~iQflld be'madeby'Mrs. Foster rather than the ~daugh- "I dont know! I don'fsee any harm in this. ezp~es. sion of ~ strong'an4' becoming 'indig~ation by a, young lady. Geraldine is,. no doubt, high-spirited "and im l~4ve. Perhaps, too, she :may' be Galled and con. ~idered eecentrie, as she undo~ibtodly possesses talents. But I have ieen nothing in her' c~nduetWhioh c~ui at ~lt Justif these~ ~~tories; and J"ask you,~'d~ar mother, whetbet'~On~haveV" . "Yott ;kn6w,~ my son, that 1' have seen 'her' Very sel- dom since Bh~ w~s 'a mere child~" "AbA t1~r; th& long 'and short of it is, 'that you' '*oui~ rMher ~ee me married' to 1~hat stately dowd, Miss Arabella MasoP; or that ~&1d Grecian, your amiable he~uty,' now "rapidly' becoming an antique, Miss' Jane "Randall, these are young ladies ~hi&m' I very much ~stea&' s~id the "mother, gravelyy~ 9 lEitherof them, ixi~ ~4epinion, wo~ild make you a'mu~h safer wife, if 'p~r~oMlly lees beautiful,~ than Geraldine Foster. But I ~ ~irejudioe ~ag~inst. her. Oh the contrary , if I *ere uot stunned and armedd ~by what I hear ~f' her wildn~s, I sh~ld prefer that s~e ~houk1~ be you~ i~ife 4h prefr~eue.to anybody ~el~e. You' have 7hea4'ine ~ ~of7h~ mother, Who ir~s, very dear 'to n~e~ Pad she' b~exz so fortunate as to enjoy her' mother's guar- diansldp, instead of that of the coarse,~ iak~W~man who succeeded her, I should have had no apprehensions.~ TILE T N~5~RRA~I'S STORY,~ IT;t" I olThr no opposition. to your pursuit. You. are of ag~ and Ill only entreat that you 1o not allow thQ l~eMi~yy and the more piquant atVraotien~ of the young lady's wit, to blind you to her. deficiencies,. I will' g~ to thej'&e, since you wish it; nay, I E~d meant~to:g~b~fore y~n spoke to me, if it were Qniy:'tO show. how readilyrl caA sac4flc~e my own scruples, whenever ~u~h sa~rifi~ebe~ comes necessary to my son's happiness." ' '~ j "Thanks, dear mother, ~nany thaiiks~! ';Y~pwiWnot,~ regret, you will not repent, your indulgence . y~ :~j see 'Geraldine in betterr ~speetstbe more' ~yo~ 'knoi~ herb ' These reports ~re mere 8i'lIy'exgera~tions~easily raised upon a vivacity of 'character, aii4 a freedoni '~ of carriage, which ~are i~et conunon to Our country ~ I think as little of 'the. stepmother~ as yen do; hut 1' doubt whether Mrs. Foster can greatly influence Gez'aV' dine. She is quite too independent' for that." "No doubt, provided the attempt to influence ~ia apparent, but this is very doubtful. People like Mrs., Foster, sprung from a low eon4ition to one f6r ~whicW they are unfit, ~re yery apt to ezereisa habitual ~cuu~ ning, and they operate their end~ with secrecy~; while persons of very independent temper, like Ger~ldine~ particularly where they~pride themselves oyi thcir i~i4e~" pendence, are very apt to be talen. in by the vely per.. sons who affect to aoknow1ed~e their want of powa~. Art, in this way, operates, by~ successful s~ibtleties~ in~ blinding the judgment of superior will; and the ~i~re~ stubborn the person) the more easily deluded whexi4n' contact with such an agency. Thisj s~ispeet to be tbe true relation between the two., I~4r~. Foster X,~ kn~wte~ be artful in a high degree. She had never snece~dea in becoming the wife of I~Ienry Foster, hut fos' the praetie0 of her heusekeeper~cunning~" "Mother, you are ~harsh." "Eaudallyouare right! flut it is in your 'ears oidr that I spoal~ these epinions,~and they are ~me~nt to~guii~rd; you from mishap. If~ as I suppo~e, yen are resolute to *1 4 page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] I~t2 AS GOOD ~&S A~ MIWY: 'OR~, dresss Geraldine, I warn you tli~t Mrs. 'Foster" is se~ working against you. , "I know 1~er;~~he cannot butwork' against'you, being what you are; and the 'retort goes that she' openly favors this little person, 'Barry." "You hear ,that too from this old chronicler, Jacob Barnes?" "Darnes\ is ;a simple and an honest creature, who r~por~ things just as he hears them.: But his reports, Randall, and xny'opinion5, are only to be valued as they te~aeh caution. Pursue your object steadily, if you will, but ~witE an eye open to the degree of influence which thj$r lady ~xerds~s i~ver;her ward. By this you may judge whether you can' succeed with' the, one, without 'Wgard' to the prejudices of the other. I should be Sorry to see my s6n~ rejected, even where I would not b&ve him ~seek~" ~, This concluded the coaversation, 'which was inter~ rtipt~d by the arrival of Miles Henderson. He too bad rec~ei~ed' his juvitation for 'the f~te,~ and he came over to co~ult with )Ihrnmond in regard' to it. The two friends wandered ~ouV' into' the fields, and, under the ~luid~ of quiet trees, they conferred frankly about' their xMtua~ feelings and prospects. There were no reserves between them; and, without hesitation, Henderson' sh4~wed his friend the draft of a letter ~to Geraldine, in whieh he h&L made his proposals. The 'letter he him- ~relf~designed to give her, at s~n~e favorable opportunity, on the day or evening;of the ftte. This festivitycon-' template~ a picr&ic lit th~ ~~oods., and by the banks of a small fishing~strear~i and mill-sea~t. called. Gnsh1y~nn;, and at~ evening, 'music, danelng, and~ other sport& at the "Lodge," and in the grounds; whioh~ were to belight~d up for the occasion. All these arrangementss had already tr~~ii~&dand we~e freely 4isoour~ed of by the' multi- tudinousniotithof rumor.' 'Henderson did notdoubt that he shotild md more 'thah one? fitting occasion, during the day or night, on whiclito present his lillet d'amcn.5r. TSE T~NNB~SE~A~'$ STORY. ," It ia very well, Miles; fairly ~ For nuy part, I have to move with caution~ ~I .nw top. decidedly tl~e object of Mrs. ~oger'~ dislike. n to tee1~ how doiil4ful are all my chances; fort tho~xgli I' ~ times fancy I haye mad~ a f~tvorable impression' i~pon, Geraldine, yet her changes ~re very sydaen,~n~1~ej~ yet so young as not to ~'eel the importance ~of shapi~g her conduct consistently after d~lib9ra.te r~eeolve~ ~IAp, not deceive myself as to the danger whi~h X stand frouu this caprioe, ~whi~h may invite ~d beguilel~ oi4y th~t ~ may deny a~d conternn; no~ tha*. ~X su~ppo~e G~Wi~ the woman tp ~kehaye thus. with any 'previQus. design. But s is~so much the creature of izupuls~, and is so likely to l~e goveriwd, in some~~degree at least, by tl~at spiteful nuother..in-law, that I feel more and moi~du~i~j~' thp more closely I approach the subject. It is. b~el(" possible thati, top, shall propose to her oii .the"4~y of the fete. This will' d~epend,~ howo~yer,, ~ei4freJy~ou ~ temper which she appears to be in, and upon. ~he sort, of opportunity which is afforded me. Of late, )~Irs4 Foster ~seems. 4isposed to keep watch upon nw,. and Yy, her constant presence, to base e~rything1ike p~'wa.t4 or interesting ~~oaversation with Geraldi~ie. I ~cau o~ily deal 'in common4alk an4 generalities, which lead, to 'nothing~" ' ' ' ii ' ' ' ~. "Which lead to a great deal, RandalL Youu~;g~n~ realities have~ a1w~ys a ~meaning i~ them. I~see ~4l~ Mrs. Foster watches, you more closely than she d~e~uy.~ body else, and that only proves to ~me that, 'she ~onsid~r~' you the most dangerous. But you make mote ~Oflt~ of the i~estra~int than anybody could beside yourself~ It's evident enough that, though you talk generalities only~, as you call them,'they are such particularities to (~0rab dixie' that she ghr~s th~m the, beet attention ~. and, if yo~. doa'~seem to say anything ,m nte~pecially fo~ ber ear, it's very certain 'she appropriates ~'j~ ~1l i~ore~ eage4~. than any other.~ ',The truth ~ '~andal1, I'i~i mere Jeal pus of. you thati ev~r, and t~is, is t~, ~ ~ieasp~that you get on 89 si~ccessfnlIy in fixi~g~the: ,inVe~st o*~ 16~ page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] '174 AS ~iOOD A8A co~fl~i~Y: On, TilE TENNESSEEAN'S SThRX~. 175 raldine in~ spite of the clear dislike and the crossplays.. of the step-mother. I'm only going to propose now, to get my answer; I don't seethat I've the least chance or hope. She treats me civilly, and Mi's. Foster is a great deal more kind to me than she is to you; but, after all,' though I try hard to find a meaning' in this civility, 'it amounts only to this, that I 'don't behave amiss, and the attention' ef & young fellow is never dis. agreeable to a miss. But the suspense and anxiety vex me,' aud'so I'm going to make an end of it, and either make the spoon or spoil the horn." "With such feelings, Miles, I should not prcpoae; but 'the subject is one which I dare not undertake to counsel you upon. You will, of course,. do as you ~"Oh!' I'm sworn to give in this paper. There may be more hope than I have reason for; A man, who is really in love, can't always seehis chances for himself; and. GeraldinC Foster is 'the first and only woman I've eve)! seen that I really wished to marry.' I'll try her, at 'all events'; and if'nothi'ng better comes of the trial, it will at once put an end toiny anxiety." "Be it so, ;Miles.~ You hear' 'what I tell you. I prepare no letter. I'll leave it to circumstances to determine. If opportunity offers, and she seems fa~ vorable, 'ten to one that I shall declare myself. If not, I have only to keep quiet and wait a better, season." "Yes; but you may wait too long. 'Spose she takes me?" "My dear Miles, she couldn't take a better fellow. Next to myself, I should rejoice to see you in possession 'of' the' prize.". ~tBut suppose, seeing no ehanee of you, 'and tired of waiting, she takes this beauty, Barry ?" "Then he's ~welcome"to her, and she wouldn't be the woman "for me. I ~ho~ld rejQice in' my escape." "Randall, you're a cursed Bight too proud.',' "No, Miles, I only put' .a proper value upon a wife. The girl who is in' sttch' haste to get a husband as to marry any that offers rather than lose a chance is worth no man's having." "I don't know but you're right." While upon this fruitful subject, let 'us pass from the two friends to another of 'the parties' to our story, WhOsQ feelings, about this period, were similarly' concerned with the fair Geraldine, and the approaching festivities.. Sunday was usually 'chosen' by our excellent acquaint- ance, 'Jones Barry, for his dinners. 'He was then apt to call in~his acquaintance, to see his' friends, and make a day 'of it. He never denied, himself on the~e 4ays. He was a bachelor, a man of wealth, and enjoyed a cer- tam degree of impunity. He at least assumed that one, whose behavior was so uniformly good during the week, should be permitted his 'enjoyments on the Sab- bath. ~Of course, we quarrel with no man for his opi~~ ions. We are' indulgent, and only propose to show his practice under them. Jones Barry had a cleverish cook, who could make mock turtle to perfection, and dress a haunch of venison to the equal~ satisfaction of epicure and hunter. He loved good things, and never stinted himself at any time; but it was' on Sunday that he' particularly laid himself out to be happy. The first day of the week had come in which the birthday fete of Miss Foster 'was' to be celebrated. He had several guests that day, and an excellent dinner. There was our old friend, Nettles, among the former, ~o whom one end of the table was assigned. Joe Blake; Dick Moore, and Tom Lechmere formed the rest of the company. The dinner passed off gloriously. When the cloth was 'rein oved, the host; raising his glass, cried- "Fill, gentlemen, and 'drink to the health of'the f~iit Geraldine." "Lady or filly ?" inquired Nettles. "Oomne, Tom, don't be disrespectful. She may yet be my wife." Nettles repeated the question. "Lady or filly, Jones?" 1N 175 page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 AS GOOD AS A C0.M~EDY OR, "You're a beast," cried Barry; "drink before I send the bottle at your head." "t~o nothing of the kind, I beg, until you've emptied it at least. j3ut still let me ask. I drink, you see; for it matters' not much to your friends whom you marry; but, whi~h is it~J~nes? We kn6w you love the lady, at least you say so~ a~d it's very certain to everybody that you. really by the mare., Now,, if a I~oman emperor made ,one of lAs mares a divinity,, and fed. it ou silver crowfoot and golden ears, handsomely cracked,, in a iuiarbie basin, there's no reason why a Georgia planter shouldn't promote his filly by marriage." "Psha~! that's all nonsense about the Roman em. peror." "True, every bit of it, except that I have ~ny doubts about the gender of the beast.' But tell us truly. Out with it like a man. Are you to be married to the fair "To the lady, perhaps." "Not exactly, 'but so nigh there's no fun in it." , "AhI then you have prQposed, Jones?" "No-~-not to Geraldiue herself, but the mother goes for me. "But 'that's not the daughter.", "It'.s something towards the election." "Don't believe a word of it, Jones," answered the reckless Nettles. "It's like your racehorse 'calculations. You'll be beaten when you're most certain.~~ "And who's tobeat me, do you think ?" "Why Ran. ~~~mond, to be sure." "He! he stajids no more chance than my grandmother. Why, Mrs. Foster hates him as she does ~Olson.~~ "What of that? I can tell you she wouldn't hate him long, if he was willing to marry her insteadof the daughter. But her hate don't hurt. ' That girl has a will of her own, if ever woman had; and Madam Foster's dislikes won't ~help your likes, I can tell you." "She as good as tells me I'm sure of ~Geraldine." THE TENN]1~$5EEA~Cs STORY. a slip betwixt the 'cup and the lip. 'Nowlook you, Jones, my boy; I like you well" enough; your din~ ners are excellent, and you keep the best wine decidedly in the country." "Do you really think so, Torn?' You are"a judge." "You do-only you keep it always too near 'your o*n plate~" "There it is-Blake, hand that bottle to the ox.". "Ox! well, I suppose it is because 'I'm an ox that you offer me ahorn." "Take two of them, that you may be~ finished." "But I'll not finish there." "'Go ahead!" "Well, as I was saying, I like you and your dinners well enough. You're a good fellow in 'your way, though you have too great fondness for women of the circus. "Tom! Tom!. mum! Honor bright, old fellow."~ "Out with it, Nettles!"' was the cry of Joe Blake, and the rest. "Another time, boys, another time. 'Let's see, wh&re was I? Ah! I was saying,---but, to begin fair, I'll give you a toast. Fill, if you please." "Fill, gentlemen," said the host.' "Fill to Tom Nettles, charged." "Hera's to Ran. Hammond; a stiff fellow, perhaps, but a real man and a true gentleman." Jones Barry gulped and swallowed ~with the rest. "I drink," said he. "ican afford' it. I'm' not afraid of anything Ran. Hammond can do in this affair."' "You're not ~ Well, mark my words; t'hi~ girl's for - him, and not for you; and better, let me tell you, that he should marry her, and not you. Better 'for us 'as well as you." "And why, pray?" "Why, then, let me tell you. She'd be 'your master in 'no time, and she~d rule you wjth 'a rod of iron. ~"No more dinners on Sunday, boys. No more wine for ~ood fellows; and, instead of our excellent friend, Jones fla~ty,' presiding where he does-now running a fine horse, now page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 AS GOOD. A~ A CQMRDY OR, * opening a fine bottle, now jerking at~ a gander's gullet, and now sitting' in a Sultana's lap-" "Mum, .T~m, mum "I say,, in~tea& of this, look at the poor fellow, afraid to say his soul's hi~ own! He . give~ no dinners, boys, for his wife finds no p1ea~ure in our company; he opens no wine, my boys-his wife keeps the keys; he pulls no gander~s neck, since his wife makes him tender~hearted by pulling his;, and, instead of sitti~ig, now and then, in the lap of a pretty woman at the circu~, drinking apple4oddy, he hates the very sight of a pretty woman, as it tells him that instead of a mistress, )he has got a master. No, no,. boys! I say the fair Geraldine to Ran. Hammond; he ca~ tame her; and if our friend Jones must have a wife, let her be the fat, laughing. girl, F that s~erves the bar at' old Hiram Davy's corner; who sweetens the toddy with her smiles instead of sugar; and when she says, 'Ills it to your liking, Sir?' makes it go 4own like a blessing. She's the 'girl, boys, for Jones Barry; and I drink the health of. Susann~h Davy, and m~y good fellow never get a smaller armful I"' "Armful, you snake in the grass! Why she's a houseful ; ~he weighs three hirndred if she weighs a pennyweight." "Three hundred! Jones, that~ a scandal. I ,was at the last wQighing; two hundred and forty-five, and the ~tiliyard on a perfect level-not a grain more. Y~u couldn't get a better wife, if happiness is what you aim at.'.' All these sallies produced their appropriate merri- marit. That w~' need not pursue our good. fellows through their~ midnight orgies. Enough that Tom Nettles ikored 'his. host, and, after seeing~ him solemnly. laid out on the rug before the fireplace, he' coolly took p05- session of 'Barry's.~wn couch, which tIle latter did not seem greatly 'to' affect. The. rest of the company, towards the small hours of the morning, were similarly diep~sed of.. THE TEN!qES8REAN'~ S~0RY. 17~ ChAPTER XIY. THE DIRTUDAY FETE. TPE decision 9f' Miles Henderson was precisely that of Jones Barry. He had preparedd himself, under the special instructions of Mrs. Foster, to make his propo- sals to the fi~~r Geraldine, on the occasion of h~r birth- day. That excellent lady, the step-mother, had seve~'ai private conferences with this faVored suitor, without the knowledge of' the young lady. In these conversations, she particularly encouraged his hopes, and enjoiii~d' upon him the experiment during the progress of the festivities. She did not tell him upon what she 'had based her calculations of success, ~robab~y with~ some just apprehensions In regard to his ~~udence ; but she might 'have trusted him; for, 'in all' his revelations to his cOmpaniotis oVer the bottle, he never yiel4~d' up hjs secrets entirely. lie still kept something to him- self, following the eounsel:&f' Burns-.-.-which 'even iL~om Nettles, who wormed a good deal out of him without Seeming to ~design? it, could never sticceed in extracting from his tongue., lit is probable that the calculations of Mrs. Foster were not remarkable for their profundity; yet they might have been sufficient, for all that, fo~r the purpose she had in coi~tempk1tion." Sh~ probably designed nothing more than so to vex the ~apricious pride and impulse of Geraldine, with "resp~et to, 11am- mend, as to .~nake~ her disgust him by~her'eent~'icivies; and the scheme was~a good ~e, so far nsitwas fot~nd~d upon a pretty correct knowledge of the oh~act~r' ~f both persons. :Butt effai~es de'~urof y ng'p~ople ar~~6 Providence-that the nicest caleulatk~s 4~unnltig page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] i~80 A$ GOOI~ A8 'A CO~i1IDY: '~R, THE TiENNES'SEEAN'8 STORY. 181 are apt to fail at the nunne~rkt of exigency; and, with seine knowiedge~of this danger from' casualties, our ex- c~llent step-mother was more' than usually careful in devising the eveiit~ asjwell a~ the picnic aiA the supper. ll~w she did this, or tried"to do it, it is ,not exactly ue~ ~essary that we, shonid slww; and we must not antici~ pate actual events by speculating upon their features and family likenesses while they a~re yet in the womb of the future. Enough that all parties had completed their~ arrangements for, the birthday, which at length dawned ~to the awakening of many and cQnflicting ~nx~ icties. TI~e suu smiled brightly 'and 'beautifully' that morn. ing, ~ithout.a cloud.; ~and, ~~~'the purpose of the ladies ~t the "Jiodg&~ w~s to make "a1;dayof ~ the company began toappear'r~ight early. They came ~from a ~on* 'sidera.bie di~ta~ace,' Mr,~.' Foster 'having be9n' at pains to invite t1~etmo~t j'etnote 'ac~jiiaintan~es,. in order that the display should not' be~' thrown awaynpon feW and inferior judges. Her preparations: h~d been c9noeived ~oii a~ 0~ai&'w1 9h, hQWever rustic, was .iu~usually liberal for 4at region' of oonntry~ Sup~l~es, a~ weave seen, 12I~& been ,poud~ig'iu for some- time previous~. A number of violins, 9larionets, ~nd tambourines had been rem- plo~e~l, and a ~'oiunteer drummer made his unexpected app~aranee WIth 1~be rest, assiimingthat musical noises ~eobject~onahleat a, ~4arivarL~ In ~ne 'sense~ it was a '4~arwar~ tha~t' was in p*'ogress;' but ~ur opinion is, though 'no een~ure was passed upon' hi~ conciuct, "that ~the~ 4rwii~ier was d~eided1yguihy 6f;~p~su~ption,~ --As' if tr~u14e4 with ~ the same sort, he ino~ destly witlid~ew his' :p~f~r~n~es to a 4istaz~o~' ~nd ~y~'wWhin earshot of the bQuse. Here, upon ~a 6n1a11 ~xz~iind, whieh ~i~d Dro Iyrbe5§~u 'Tndia~n'~taber~iacle, az~4 which ~Was su~,~'ounde&with ~a '~cluinp ~f 'ph~es, he thr~s~ied&way with Eis '~nerry sticks to- the delight of those ~who, in carri~g~"~er -htiggy~. were -,passipg up: the .,yozpia. The horse~. dauc~d with delight *' they heard ,th& ii~pwitiPg ~c1ar~tor,'~ati4 the attempts~ to run away only gave more life to the proceedings. The drum be- came, in a little time, too useful for dismission. Mrs. Hammond arrived at an early hour. Her son did not then accompany~ her. He was governed in this delay by motives 'which we may conjecture from what we have heard him say, on a previous occasion, to his friend Henderson. It was his policy not to seem too anxious. His mother's motive' for coming early was that she might not 'stay late. She did not come seek- ing amusement, and she designed returning home before the day was out. It was in compliment to the lady, who might yet be her son's wife, that she came at all. She was received respectfully by Geraldine, and civilly enough by Mrs. Foster. The latter was too greatly in her glory not to seem amiable that day. Her vanity was in full exercise, to enable her to play her part with suavity and grace.- Of course, we cannot pretend to describe the persons. 'present. They were very numerous, not less than two hundred and fifty having been invited. All, certainly, did not attend; but there were some who came without being conscious of the necessity of being asked; and these were usually the most conspicuous and active ~n their attentions to themselves and one another. 04r amiable friend Miles Henderson, and our humorous friend Jones' Barry, arrived at the same moment; the latter accompanied by his Mephistopheles, Tom Nettles. It was with a slight shade upon her brow that Geral- dine observed that Henderson came alone. She had looked, as a matter of course, that hammond would ac- company Henderson. Her mother saw the expression in her countenance, and. remtuirkecl,. in- an under tone, as Miles rode up-.-. "So, his friend's not with him. I doubt if he comes at all. His pride would scarcely al-low him to do any- thing which seemed to do us honor." "But his ,piother's here," whispered Geraldine. "To spy out the poverty of the land, and to go home and. sneer. We haven't such a display of plate as~ the 16 (80 181 page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 188 182 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, Hammonds can set out; and she will have her say about the difference between old times, when she was every- body, and now when other people want to be some- body." "Mother, you are too harsh 1" "Too harsh! Well, you can make up for it by being too tender! We'll see yet if the soft lie~art of the woman proves too weak for the arrogant pride of the man." The daughter felt the imputation, and turned away with an expressive smile upon her lips. The mother knew the meaning and the value of that smile, and she was satisfied. Pride was the weakness of Geraldine; and upon this characteristic the cunning woman played. She knew that while she kept this feeling sore and irritable, her schemes were in no danger; and she knew enough of Hammond's character, and suspected enough of his policy, to believe that he would be more likely to increase this irritability of her daughter's mood than to soothe or overcome it. We shall see whose politics were the wisest. The greater portion of the company having arrived, the grounds began to be filled with groups, detaching themselves from the mass, each for the gratification of his or her peculiar sympathies. Some of the younger damsels might be seen swinging or skipping rope under the shade-trees, with a fair sprinkling of dapper young lads to devour, with greedy looks of love, their several movements and devices. Here and there; along the avenue, might be seen a whizzing ball, in the hurling of which the youngsters were the performers, and the ladies were lookers on; while tables, spread convenient- ly, offered cakes and lemonade as refreshments to the languid and exhausted. But anon, the drum gave the gratuitous signal, and the clarinet and violin led the way for a procession. The swing and rope were aban~ doned in a moment, the ball received its last cast. The youth of both sexes came together, and paired off, by a very natural movement, which showed how sympathetic were the instincts of both parties; and away they march in a procession which led through a beautiful avenue of oaks and cedars.. It was at this moment, and while our young friend Jones Barry, being plucked' by the* sleeve by Mrs. Foster, was breaking away from the society of Tom Nettles, and rushing forward to offer his arm to Geraldine, that Randall Hammond. was seen suddenly to glide from under a clump of shade- trees, near the avenue, and anticipate his intentions. Geraldine certainly did not, in her countenance, reflect the spite which was apparent in the visage of the mo- ther, at this moment, to Tom Nettles, who muttered to himself with that sort of grin and chuckle which the man of mischief puts on when he sees sport. "It sticks, old lady, does it? and so it should. Ran. Hammond is the lad to conquer both of you." his sneer and feeling did not prevent him from play- ing the gallant with the very lady whose vexation had so much pleased him. While the anger was yet quiver- ing on her lip, he drew nigh, and, with the sweetest smile in the world, and the nicest compliment, he tendered her his arm; which, as he was a most comely person and a moderately young bachelor, the judicious lady at once frankly accepted. "Really," said he, "Mrs. Foster, you are in every respect fortunate. The day is just the day for such a fete, and it is no discredit to the company to say that' it is worthy of your arrangements. I need not say that they are worthy of any company. "Oh, Mr. Nettles, you overwhelm while you delight me "True in every respect, my dear madam. I never saw so excellent and large a collection of fine people before in the county. I could scarcely have thought, indeed, that the county could boast of so many fashion- able-looking people.'.' "Nor does it, Mr. Nettles 1" answered the lady, with a delighted smile. "In some instances, I have gone out of the county for my guests." "That explains it," said he, quietly, as if assured page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] TIlE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 185 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, and satisfied. "Miss Foster," he continued, "is a beau- tiful creature. They would make a noble couple." The motion of his hand was in the direction of Geral- dine and Eammond, who were just wheeling out of sight in a turn of the avenue. The remark, which he well knew was wormwood to his hearer, remained unanswered. Kettles was a man to dash his bitter usually with some sweet; though, perhaps, the bitter was apt, finally, to preponderate. "But it is the ~nisfortune of young persons, who have no guardians sufficiently their seniors to command their veneration, to be perverse in such matters. I should fear that Miss Foster is too decidedly your companion to be sensible of your authority." "There is some truth in what you say, Mr. Nettles, though, as her proper guardian, I ought not to confess it. But, the fact is that, when I yielded to the entrea- ties of Mr. Foster, I was but a child myself." The words passed through the brain, but did not find their way to the tongue of Nettles: "Pretty well grown, and honestly twenty~eight, if old grandmother Crowell knew anything about it." He did not suffer any pause for reflection, as he answered"-. "The county proverb is a true one, I'm afraid, Mrs. Foster." "What proverb, Mr. Nettles ?" "That which says that the mothers are only the elder sisters of the daughters, and that the widows are always in the way of the virgins !" "But you don't believe it, Mr. Nettles ?" "At this moment, I have every reason to do so; and the 'grateful lady was not unconscious of the slight contracting pressure upon her own of the arm in which it rested. The thought irresistibly forced itself upon her--. "How strar~ge that Mr. Nettles shouldn't have thought of a wife. Certainly, it's high time for 'him to do so, if he ever means to get one." Nettles was a famous mocker, but we must follow the company rather than the conversation. The procession continued through most delightful groves, all the way to the mill-seat of Gushlynn. On the route, the young people sported like so many kids. Conspicuous among these was Jones Barry; who, playing his antics directly in the sight of Geraldine Foster, might, if he had been sufficiently observant and sagacious, have seen upon her countenance a scorn quite as expressive as that with which Michal saluted David when she saw him dancing along tha highways.' Geraldine, in respect of pride, was no bad representative of Saul's daughter. Barry was the centre of a bevy of fat girls, whose dimensions some- what reminded him of the barkeeper's daughter, whom Nettles had counselled him to choose for a wife. It was evident that he was not less a favorite among them, because he consented to play antics in their eight. He might have had his choice among them, without leaving the rejected any better satisfied, or worse off.. Miles Henderson revolved near Geraldine, but as an escort to one of the Baileys, a quiet, dignified girl, one of the three or four whom Mrs. hammond 'was~ not unwilling that her son should espouse. The procession passed forward, the music still vibrated along the groves, and soon the groups began to arrive at the beautiful place chosen for the picnic, the fine park of open pines which spread along at the foot of the falling waters of Gush- lynn. This was an abandoned mill-seat, the great dam and floodgate of which were still' maintained in repair; the former being a broad carriage-track, overgrown on each side and perfectly shaded by great evergreens,~ the water-oak, the cedar, and several other trees; while the floodgate afforded a pretty and picturesque fall of water, whose torrents were always making a pleasant murmur for the groves. Above the dam lay an immense sheet of several thousand acres, several feet deep, of water; while below, the falling surplus found its way, after passing the wreck of the old mill-house, into a sweet little lake, which was sufficiently deep for midsummer bathing. This too was surrounded by an ample shade of evergreens, 16'~ 184 page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNESSEEA!~'S STORY. 18T and the tot~t ensemble presented one of those lovely pictures of united elevation, water, and shade-tree which, after all, present the most durable materials for the landscape painter. Here' then, along the mill-dam, in the shade of the pine woods below, and at intervals around the reserve and the lakelet Qf discharged waters, our company dis- persed themselves, each after hi~ own fashion seeking pleasure. Here again the swing was found, as well of rope as of great grape-vines on which the young dam- sels reclined, and in which they were rocked occasionally by the eager hands of the dutiful young men. Here, too, the ball was again put in requisition among the more athletic, who darted tifrough the wide green avenues in graceful flight, or hurried in pursuit, with good-natured fury. Some of the young ladies did not scorn to engage in the play, though it was observed that all who did so had previously taken the precaution of wearing short frocks and ample pantalettes. These nice little appendages of the petticoats, it wa~ perhaps censoriously remarked by some of the elder maidens, were worn quite gratuitously by several who in no other way could be suspected of being still in miniature girl- hood. But this matter does not concern us. 'It may be well, however, to state that geraldine, whatever might have been the imputations upon her eccentricity, was not seen to participate in any of these wilder exer- cises, though her excellent step-mother frequently urged. it upon. her, and stoutly seconded the entreaties of our friend Barry, who challenged her to a. match. at rope4 skipping. That the eye of Hammond and his mother were bGth upon her, all the while, with some curiosity, did not discourage Mrs. roster from her object. On the contrary, somewhat stimulated by seeing that they watched the daughter, she was more than ever anxious to persuade her to. the exhibitions of the hoyden. We have already some knowledge of her policy. It did not succeed in thi"s instance, even though, stung by refusal, she said bitterly, as she turned' away from the girl: "Well, you are perhaps right. 1 see that the Queen of Sheba, and her ~wise Solomon, are both watching you. They would never countenance, I suppc~se, any such in~ nocent practices." The high-spirited girl was half tempted to whirl away upon the rope, or to seize, and wing, and pursue. the ball,. as she heard this imputation upon her courage; but she too had her reflections, and prudently forbore. Indeed, she now began to feel, not only that she had something at stake, but that her stepmother was neither the most wise nor the most disinterested of counsellors. Barry, sustained by her guardian, she began to feel was something of a bore; and she was conscious of a purpose, which she now perforce maintained, which would suf- ficiently try the sense of propriety as well in Hammond as his mother. But of this hereafter. It is certain that she refused to do the graces on the skipping-rope, or the fairies in pursuit of the flying ball. She con~ ducted herself with a demureness which, while it vexed her mother, was quite satisfactory to other parties; and Mrs. Hammond returned home, at an early hour in the day, much better reconciled 'to the 'object of her son's admiration than she was before she came. Meanwhile, the business of the day proceeded with pleasure, as it had begun. Dinner was spread under the shade of the great trees; a well-considered repast, in which the provision was ample, and in good taste. In this matter, Mrs. Foster received no small assistance from her daughter, who had brought to her knowledge the refinements of the ancient and elegant city of Savan- nah. When one of the plain country ladiesof the past generation beheld, for the first time, a display of silver forks, and silver fish and butter-knives, she exclaimed, with looks of genuine apprehension,. "'.1 reckon the widow must have 6roke Savannah !*" The fruits of the West Indies had been brought to grace the repast. There were. 'oranges and lemons, plantains and bananas; pineapples and cocoanuts. There were preserved fruits and foreign cordials, and a very generous supply of champagne; a beverage which most page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 AS GOOD AS A COMis~DY OR, effectually entrapped, to their overthrow, sundry per- sons who had never drank any beverage of similar flavor more grateful than "persimmon beer." Our friend, Jones IBarry, through. the agency of Mrs. Foster, was a conspicuous person in the order of the exercises. lie was rather a volunteer, when the champagne-corks were to be sprung, his whole soul being surrendered to the happiness of seeing the young ladies start with sur- prise at a sound which was so unwanted from such a source. We must add that his practice was scarcely so innocent when he busied himself in decoying the same simple damsels to such free draughts of the liquor as rendered them scarcely less ridiculous than himself. That mischievous creature, Tom. Nettles, was busy, however, in playing upon Barry the same game which he played upon the girls, and he watched with no little pleasure the uncertain strides which the latter took among the several groups which he haunted, while his voice equally increased in thickness and rapidity. These ludicrous proceedings, however, were about to ufxdergo a change. Tliere is scarcely any human pleasure, as we know which can be considered certain for three hours together. Our hero, Barry, in the midst of his merriment, suddenly remembered that he had a serious business before him; a look and a whisper from Mrs. Foster drew his attention to Geraldine, who had wan- dered off with Miles Henderson to the ancient mill-site, and was now to be seen at the extremity of one of the remaining beams - or sleepers. The torrent ran at considerable depth below.- Beside her, stood Miles Henderson. He seemed abQut to leave her; and, with the words, "Now's your time," Mrs. Foster left Barry to pursi~e his purpose. '-Barry, who was a creature of simple impulses, imme- diately started away, and, in his passage up the mill- dam, met Miles Henderson returning alone. Poor Miles had giveh in his petition, but without waiting or seeking for a present answer. He only implored that Miss Foster would read his billet at the first opportu- TIlE TE~1NESSEI~AN' S STORY. 189 nity, and communicate her reply as soon as possible.' He muttered something about anxiety an& suspense; but he was rather unintelligible to himself, and he could not trust himself to be more explicit. He was crossing the mill-bank quietly, without seeking to attract attention, and was just about to descend to th~ plain, when Barry appeared below. The latter, however, perceiving the object whom he was pursuing to be still lingering at the end of the great sleeper which crossed the chasm, one end resting upon the bank and the other upon the opposite foundations of the mill-house, proceeded to take the shortest route for reaching her, and, instead of keep- ing the bank, he darted aside, and was in a few moments seen upon the sleeper. The height was a dizzy one, and so was the head of the daring suitor. Miss Foster, seeing his approach, hastily thrust the note of Henderson into her bcsom. At this moment, and when he was half way across the passage, he begati to fumble in~ his own bosom, and before he or anybody could conjecture his peril, he toppled suddenly, lost his balance, and went over, kicking and floundering with ineffectual struggles, into the boiling waters below. Fortunately, they were deep enough to break his fall, which was some twelve or fifteen feet, and he disappeared, headforemost, in the petty gulf. Geraldine screamed aloud, for she saw the accident instantly, and the scream was echoed by a dozen other pretty damsels on the opposite side. It required but afew moments to make the event known among the crowd, and twenty seconds had not elapsed before Tom Nettles and Randall Hammond had made their way to the edge of the lake, where Barry was now struggling with very ineffectual efforts, his wine being diluted, seemingly, to the entire defeat of his energies, by the disproportionate quantity of the inferior liquid which he had swallowed after it perforce. A couple of long-pointed poles hap~ pened to be convenient, and were seized in the same instant by Hammond and Nettles. With these they fished the poor fellow up by his clothes, to the bank, the mischievous Nettles contriving, more than once, page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: 011, THE TENNESSEEM~'S STORY. 191 by seemingly awkward movements, to thrust him down into the lake just when he expected to be out of it. It was in vain that Hammond honestly labored to get the gallant upon his legs. It happened, unfortunately for Barry, that his head lay nearest to Nettles; and the wi~ful agitation of the latter, with his pole thrust into the breast of ]3arry's coat, succeeded in giving him seve- ral severe dips before he was finally extricated. "Whoo! Tom! What the devil, man! would you drown me in a mill-pond ?" "N Jones, my dear fellow; but I'm quite nervous at your situation-quite." And, as he spoke, the head of the unfortunate took another plunge, at the very moment when Hammond was drawing him ashore by the leg. He came forth looking aghast, shook himself like a water-dog, and it was then seen, for th& first time, that he held a letter ch~sped in his hand. Why, Jones, what have you got there 2" demanded Nettles. "A letter !" and, with the words, he cast his eye up to the head of the mill-seat, as if still looking for Ge- raldine. But she was no longer in sight. "A letter! Where the deuce did you get it 2-at the bottom of the lake 2" "IDon't ask me, old fellow. I'm no better than a heathen icicle. I'm chilled to the heart. Get me into the bushes, and bring me a bottle of champagne." "A good brandy~toddy would be better," said the &ther, while he hurried off. Hammond then conducted him into the woods, while he summoned his servant to go off for fresh clothing. "Won't you go home yourself', Barry ?" demanded Nettles, when he returned, having first administered his drink. "No; I feel' better now.' I shall be dry soon. Here, Tony-[to the boy in waiting]-kindle up a fire, and l~et me know what the natural feeling of dry breeches is. What ad daffairitis!" "Dreadful!" said Nettles. "But that l~tter,~ Jones 2" "Oh! if you must see it, there it is." Nettles, reading the address- "To Miss Geraldine. Foster," &c. At these words, Hammond disappeared, leaving the two friends, together. It was night when they showed themselves again, Barry looking as happy as if nothing had happened, and ready for all the grateful intricacies of the Virginny reel. page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THI~ TEI~TN1~5SEEAN's STORY. 198 CHAPTER XV. TIlE EVENING OF THE DAY. MRS. FOSTER was greatly discomfited at the disaster of her favorite. She contrived, however, to keep her countenance; an effort of which her daughter was not capable. She, as well as most of the young damsels, as soon as it was discovered, that Barry was in no danger, laughed outright at his predicament, and were extremely amused and interested at the way in which he was fished out of the pond; the particular part taken by Nettles in this delicate operation being very intelligible to most of them. His disappearance in the bushes was followed by a movement of the whole party. The day had passed with great satisfaction to most of the company, and even * this accident did not materially abate the general satis- faction. The dinner was excellent; the cates, wands, the wines and dessert, in especial, were equally new and grateful to the popular palate; and it was with height- ened feelings of enjoyment, and heightened expectations also, that the guests listened to the signal of the drum, which 'announced the return to the homestead. With flying colors and triumphant music, the gay cavalcade moved forward; but in order very different from that in which they came. There was now more life and im- pulse, and less formality. People are more at home usually after the wine and walnuts; and the chatter was incessant, the laughter wild, and not a few pranks and petty excesses were practiced on the return route among the younger people. Hammond did not now escort Miss Foster. He left that pleasant duty to other gallants, of whom the fair damset had a liberal supply. Hender- son also kept aloof, feeling quite too anxious and too much interested in the result of his application to risk himself near the person who held his fate in her harad8. The return of the party was happily timed to bring.them into the grounds about the "Lodge," just aboutdusk. A fairy scene greeted the eyes of the guests as they now drew nigh. A hundred altars seemed tc~ f~arr~e, at in- tervals, among the trees and along the great avenue. Here rude elevations had been made of ch~y and sand, upon which piles of dry combustible pine had been accu- mulated, and which were now all blazing brightly, in sharp, upward-darting tongues of fire. The rich illuini~ nation lighted up the scene less softly and brightly, ir~ deed, but even more picturesquely than the moonshine; and the happy groups wandered through various path- ways over which the blazing brands cast a rich, red lustre,. that eminently enlivened the rude forests, and made the particular trees stand forth, each like a frowning giant The admiration of the company was unanimous, and Mrs. Foster exulted in a triumph which she did not inform any of her guests was due wholly to the fancy of her step-daughter. For that matter, the entire scheme of the day belonged to the latter. All that was fanciful and picturesque in the design originated in her taste and invention. Tea was served, as the party wandered among the trees in the park. The tables which had borne lemonade and cakes in the morning, were now covered with hissing urns and fairy-like cups of china; and here the pledges for partners were given f~r the dances which were to follow, After the pleasant fashiQri of the peasants in the south of Europe, gay squadrons prepared to dance under the shade-trees, and by the light of the pine-blazing altars. Others, more consi- derate of domestic forms and health, prepared to occupy the great hail, the parlor, and piazza of the dwelling- house. The music was already in full discourse, and the groups whirling in the dance, when Nettles and I3arry made their appearance. The latter had been for- tunate, taxing the full speed of his horse "Glaucus;" the "Fair Geraldine" being in too great esteem to be 192 198 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNES5EEA~ '0 STORY. 195 used for common purposes, in getting from home a fresh supply of snugly-fitting garments. His long-tailed blue, and shining gold buttons, made a conspicuous figure in the assembly, particularly when contrasted with his pan- taloons, of the most delicate velvet buff. Mrs. Foster saw his return with delight. The good lady had begun to b~ apprehensive of the game. She was afraid that the ridiculous attitude in which he had been placed, his somerset from the sleeper' into the lake, and the un- happy floundering which followed there, had disgusted her daughter. She was also by no means a satisfied spectator of the frequent, though brief and broken sketches of conversation which had taken place between Geraldine and Hammond. The reappearance of Barry, restored in appearance, and looking rather attractive, was refreshing. She drew him privately into an inner room, and, while she served him with a dish of tea from her own hands; she could not forbear breaking forth "Really, Barry, how could you make yourself so ridi- culous ?" "Ridiculous I" he exclaimed, sipping the beverage; "I ridiculous, ma'am?" "Such a ridiculous 'situation, I mean "Perilous, you mean "Yes! it was perilous. But how did you come to fall? What carried you out on that sleeper ?". "I reckon the champagne had something to do with it; champagne and love together." "Love?" "To be sure! What else? Wasn't Miss Geraldine at one end of the log, and alone? Didn't you give me the hint, and wasn't this the letter?" Here. he showed the luckless epistle, which, full of fiery virtue, might be supposed to have been well tempered by its subsequent saturation, like a hissing blade of Da- mascus in the sacred waters of the Baraddee. Mrs. 'Foster seized the neatly-folded epistle in her hands. "Give it to me! I will deliver it myself, this very night. Meanwhile, do you go out and make yourself agreeable with the young ladies. Don't be too particular with Geraldine. Only let her see you, and see that~you can make yourself agreeable to others. Dance with that Miss Berrie; flirt as much as you can with Miss Dooly. Either of them would be glad to snap you up. Let her see that! There's several others, Miss Higbee, Ellen Mairs, and Sophronia iRicketts, all of whom will be 'glad to have you 'squire them. Only don't be rash, don't venture any strange thing, and all will go right. I'll deliver the letter !" "Well! I thank you very much, for I was beginning to feel quite squeamish about it. I'm a little afeard that Hammond's getting on rather fast!" "He! never fear. He has dropped too many stitches for him to take up in a hurry. Will you have some more tea ?" "I shouldn't care if I had something stronger." "Oh! you mustn't think of any such thing now. I can give yo~i stronger tea." "Well; if there's nothing better." "Taste that," said the hostess, spooning him from a cup which the servant handed; and the scene was a good one for the painter. Barry, like an overgrown boy, sitting back in his chair, while the fair widow-by no means old or uncomely-.cuip and saucer in one hand, and spoon in the other, fed him with the smoking beverage. "Prime !" said he, with an air of satisfaction. Then taking the cup, he dashed it off with something less of appetite than resolution; and, abruptly darting from the chamber, hurried' out to seek a partner. Mrs. Foster followed him with eager interest, and was at length pleased to see him sprightly whirling it with~ the bouncing Rebecca Floyd~ It was with no dissatisfac- tion. that she beheld Miles Henderson dancing with Geraldine. It was somewhat strange that she enter- tamed no 'such fears of this young man as of his friend. He was quite a wcirthy and a very lovable person; tall, page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, graceful, good-looking, very amiable, and tolerably well off in point of fortune. But, somehow, these qualifica- tions never occasioned a fear; though they were in all respects, but that of fortune, very far superior to any of the possessions of her favorite, She kept the couple in sight till the dance was over; and then hurriedly summoned Geraldine, in a whisper, to the inner room, but not before Hammond had succeeded in engaging her for the country dance that followed; the silly and highly objectionable custom of 'securing partners for many dances ahead, not then prevailing as it does now-. certainly not "in these diggings." When the two were safely together in the snug little apartment, where Barry but a little while before had sipped his tea, Mrs. Foster, with a very triumphant air, thrust the letter of that worthy into the hands of the young lady. "There! There's something for you." "What's this ?" "An offer!" "Indeed! Here's a pair of t~em, then, I suppose," said the maiden, somewhat coolly, as, for the first time, she took from her bosom the billet of our friend, Hen- derson. "First come, first served," and she proceeded to break the seal of the latter. "Who's that from ?" asked the step-mother, with some anxiety. "Miles Henderson. He gave it me at the mill." "Oh, well.!" and the good lady seemed relieved as the daughter proceeded in its perusal. This done, she laid it quietly on the table; Mrs. Foster taking it up and going over it as soon as she had laid it down. The perusal of Jones IBafry's declaration followed, on the part of the person to whom it was addressed, and Mrs. Foster watched Geraldine's countenance with increas- ing curiosity, while pretending to examine Henderson's letter. But she gathered nothing from the face of our heroine. She read the one epistle, as she had done the other, with a singular calm, amounting to indifference; THE TENNESSEBAN'S STORY. 197 and, handing it ~to the mother, begged her to take care of both. "But what will you say? What are you going to do? You accept?" "There's no hurry! I'm not in the humor now to think of these things. The gentlemen deserve that I should think of their offers respectfully." "Oh, certainly! But Barry ?". "Mr. Jones Barry must learn to wait as well as his neighbor," was the quiet reply; and at that moment Geraldine was relieved from further questioning by the entry of Miss Betsy Graystock, who bounced in to say that Mr. Randall Hammond was looking for his partner, the country dances being about to begin. It was with some chagrin that Mrs. Foster saw the promptness with which her prote1g~1 hurried out after this notice; and her disquiet increased as she watched the couple through all the mazes of the dance that followed. It wa~ her endeavor to keep these parties continually in sight, while they remained together; but this was not alto- gether possible, consistently with her cares and duties as hostess. Her attention was finally called off to some domestic arrangements; and, while she was engaged in the inner room, the dance ceased. Returning to ibok after her charge, as soon as the confusion of shifting groups could Possibly allow, she was a little displeased and distressed to find that they were now nowhere in sight. It was not her policy to afford to Hammond.-. whose influence over Geraldine she really began to ap- prehend-any unnecessary opportunities; and, Seizing Barry by the arm, she sent him off, with~a whisper, to look for Geraldine in one direction, while she set off herself, in another, to detect the whereabouts of her supposed companion. Hammond, meanwhile, had readily persuaded Geral- dine to a promenade under the shade-trees along the avenue. They were not alone in this measure. - The gay groups, most of them, after dancing, had taken a similar direction ; and, as the night was pleasant, they 17* page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TEN1%TESSEEAN~S STORY. 199 might be seen straying ~away through the various groves, glimpsing here and there through the prolonged vistas, their white garments gleaming spiritually under the flickering lights from the numerouS blazing pyres of pine wood, which the watchful care of the negroes in attendance from time to time supplied with fuel. The search of Barry and Mrs. Foster was not an easy one, to examine these various groups and trace out the par- ticular couple among the scattered flocks that wound about capriciously in every turning of the wood. It was still ~more difficult, when the object of Hammond-. perhaps not unobserved byl4s companion--~was tempo- rary seci~oy and seclusion. lie led~her away from all other sets, and, in the doubtful light of a half-decaying pile, and under the friendly shadows of a venerable ~ak which had lived long enough to know how to keep secrets, and was probably too deaf to hear, our hero made his declaration. He spoke in warm and touching language, evidently with a ~full and feeling heart, but ~tili in accents of a firm and dignified character. The imperfect light did not suffer him to perceive the emo- tion which his proposals occasioned on the cheeks of the damsel ;~ but he felt her hand treuible in his, and her reply wa~ slow. For some moments, indeed, a pro- found silence followed his speech, and his heart began to sink with a feeling of dread and disappointment, for which, it must be confessed, he found himself very im- perfectly prepared. But, with some abruptness in her maimer, a8 if her reply was the result of a real effort, an~ was, indeed, foreign to the genuine feeling which wa~ at her heart, she somewhat surprised him by say- "I am honored, Mr. Hammond, by your offer, and There was, a pause, when she again began- "You have heard, no, doubt, Mr. Hammond, that I ama very thoughtless, a very whimsical, a very capri- cious, a very eccentric girl, and, in truth, I am so. I have been very foolish, and my foolish resolutions some- times trouble me, as they do in this instance. But the kind and complimentary declaration which you have made reminds me of one* of my own, and I am half ashamed~ to tell you what it is." "Indeed 1' But, dear Miss Foster, you cannot doubt that I will be the most indulgent of all judges~---" "Oh, surely, as far as it is possible; but yo~ir de- claration makes you an interested one, and my resolve concerns this very declaration." "Indeed !" with an air of some surprise "Yes, indeed !" and there was now some little pique mingled in with the lady's embarrassment; "but it concerns not only your proposals, sir, but those of other persons9 You must 'kn9w, sir, and I do not mention the fact except from the necessity of the case, that yours is the third offer of marriage whidi I have had to-day." "Then, Miss Foster, I am to understand that I am too late ?" This was said rather proudly. "Not so, Mr. lianimond. You are, on the contrary, rather quick. I have as yet determined on neither, and a rash resolution-a 'foolish vow-makes it impos- sible that I should determine directly. [-I have been very foolish, sir." The poor girl seemed really very much embarrassed. Her sympathies were all with Hammond; but her pride had been committed, and it was still~ watchful~and re- sentful. Hammond perceived and felt for her embar- rassment. "If I knew what to say or what to do 1" said he. "If I could only conjectur9 the cause of your embar- rassment !" And he hesitated. The pride of the girl came' to her relief. "I have been very foolish, no doubt; but that is no reason why I should be cowardly. I must risk the re- proach of being whimsical and* ridiculous; but you shall know all. Mr. Hammond, your horse 'Ferraunt' is, you tell me, the fastest horse in the country ?" page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 200 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNE$SEEAN's STORY. 201 Her companion was confounded. This question, seemingly so absurd, was put with all imaginable se- riousness; nay, with something like a vehement earnest- ness, while the speaker looked directly up into the face of the person she addressed, as if anxiously awaiting his answer. He was bewildered. "Really, Miss Foster, you surprise me. What can the speed of my horse have to do with the matter?" "A great deal-a great deal. Only tell me, is it not so? Is not 'Ferraunt' the fastest horse in the country? In short, can't he beat Mr. Henderson's Sorella,' and the 'Geraldine,' my namesake, of Mr. ]3arry's?" "Such is my opinion. Nay, without an accident,' I am very sure of it. ' But really, Miss Foster, you must again permit me to express my surprise at the ques- tion." "Oh, .1 know that you think me very ridiculous, and I am so-I am so," answered the girl, now laughing playfully and wildly, as if with a heart fully relieved of a burden. "Forgive me, sir, I am but a child; seventeen only, to-day. Forgive ire; but will you spare me tonight? Suffer me to convey to you my answer in writing." She gave him her hand as sh~ spoke. He seized and conveyed it to his lips, and the action was in noways re- buked.' Bu~ it was witnessed. Mrs. Foster broke in, at this moment, with "Geraldine, Geraldine! my daughter, you are wanted." "I am with you, mother ;" and she whirled away with the intruder, who had barely time to say, "What do I see, Geraldine ?" when Jones Barry came up to entreat the hand of the latter for the next cotillion, and to relieve her from the necessity ~of answering a very awkward question. 200 CHAPTER XVI. THAT LAST DRINK AND DANCE~ AND WHAT CAME OF IT. WE must premise that, when dispatched by Mrs. Foster in search of Geraldine, Jones Barry did not proceed directly upon ~his mission. He was diverted from this object by his friend Tom N~ettles, who ap- peared to have been seeking, and who, seizing' him by the arm, drew him to the rear of the building with a look and manner of very mysterious confidence. "Jones," said he, "champagne is an excellent crea- ture, and so is sherry. I like them very well in their way. But they seem to me, in comparison with our good old Georgia~ drinks, like the dessert to the solid feast. The nuts are good, the raisins, cakes, and al- monds; but, after all, my boy, give me a genuine haunch of venison, a good smoking ham, and a fat turkey, or a pair of ducks. So with these wines. I acknowledge champagne to be a fiery, well-bred gentleman; but he is too uniformly genteel and delicate. I want more solid argument than he can give me, and so I turn, when I can, to a sober whiskey-punch, a brandy eock~ tail, or a peach or apple toddy." "But you can't get any of them here," said Barry, eagerly. "Can't I? Leave Tom Nettles alone for finding out where the weasel sleeps. This fellow Abram, who serves as a sort of major-domo in the widow's house~ hold-lBy the way, Jones, the widow would suit u better than the daughter; she's ~a better armfull. Don't you think so "She looks well." "Ay, aDd would wear well, old fellow." 201 page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] "She would, indeed." "Think of it. It's worth a thought." "It's too late now." "What! are you engaged to the daughter?" "I suppose you may say so. It's as good as that. I've handed in the letter." "P-h-e-w! Don't halloo till you're out of the wood." "But to the liquor. Abram "Oh, Abram: yes! Well, that Abram's a fellow after one's own heart; and, whether you marry the daughter or the widow, I hope you'll give him to me. reeling the want of the stronger spirit, I said to him: 'Abram, this~'~ is a pleasant fellow, this champagne, to say a word to at coming and at parting, but he don't seem to answer so well through a long visit. Now, haven't you something in the shape of a plain, homely, sensible old Georgia drink, that won't foam, and hiss, and sparkle when you speak to it?' Upon which the fellow whispers to me: 'Old master had a jimmyjohn of mighty fine peach in the garret, and, since he's gone, we never uses it.' 'Abram,' says I, 'your master was a sensible man when alive, and I hope was sensible enough when he died to go to a place of good spirits. God bless him, and us. Abram, my lad, can you get us a look at that jimmyjohn?'" "'Well?" demanded Barry, somewhat eagerly. "Well!' Here it is, and here's Abram, and here's a few fellows like yourself, ready to take a toss at the tankard." They had now reached an apartment in the basement of the building, where a few rude tables sustained a world of crockery, cups, plates, and glasses, such. as had already been used above stairs. On one of these tables stood the ancient demijohn, covered with ~antique dust and honoring ~cobwebs. Honey, water, cups, and tumblers were in readiness, and nothing was to be done but drink. Even the beverage-a sufficient quantity- had been mixed in anticipation by the judicious Nettles, and the beaker, that was thrust into Barry's grasp, 202 202 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, TRE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 203 glittered to the brim, with equal strength and sweet~. ness. In the taste of the sweet, he did not recognize the potency and excess of the strength, and it was'with a royal mind that he now broke away from the group of drinkers to continue his search after Geraldine. We have seen at what moment and under what circum- stances he found her. As he left Nettles and his companions, a loud laugh attested the conspira~~y. "Lie has it," cried Nettles. "A most mortal shot," said' Dick. "It'll floor him, sure;" said Ned. "'Twould floor a~ bullock," muttered Peter; and, with these calculations, th their ~rictim. with a view ey all scattered in pursuit of to watching the results. Meanwhile, unsuspicious of danger, and with a con- fidence in himself gradually increasing as the peach began to "blossom"' in his veins, Jones Barry led his partner triumphantly to the hail, where the dancers were rapidly assembling from all quarters. The coin- pany had begun to thin; the hour was becoming late; the old people had pretty much departed, except those inveterate appetizers who will wait through the tedious rounds of dancing in which they do not share, in order to partake of the supper, in which they never fail to insist upon something more than, their share. It is not every day, with these, that Paddy' kills hi~ favorite cow, and they make the most of the event when he does. There they sat or stood about the room, wait- ing anxiously the close of the last cotillion. Mean- while, the music sounded merrily, and the dancers began to vault and whirl. Jones Barry and Geraldine found themselves confronted by Tom Nettles and Polly Ewbanks-Polly being the most portly of all the fair people assembled-as ignorant of the dance as a horse, and as clumsy as an elephant. But IPolly had a rather pretty face, and though she felt doubtful of the sort of display which her legs would make, she was willing to peril them rather than lose the chance of a market for her face. With rosy red cheeks, and a rolling, swim- page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, ming motion, like a great Dutch galliot in a heavy, swelling sea, Polly went to and Cro, very imperfectly steadied by the arm, and hand, and counsels of her partner. "Why the deuce," was the thought of Barry, "did Tom Nettles choose such a woman for his partner, when so many so much more comely and compatible could be had?" But Tom had his reasons. There was mischief in his eye, only perceptible, however, to his comrades, one of whom was in the same 'set with our couple, while the others were eagerly and anxiously looking on. But Jones Barry had neither the time, nor was he in the mood, to make reflections. The peach began to poach upon the territories' of his brain. He leaped high, he vaulted, whirled, wheeled, clapped his hands, and at length seemed about to reach that con- dition of extase in which certain virgins under religious inspiration have attained, by whicli they can stand upon the air and dance upon nothing, without the aid of any unseemly ornaments about the neck. Geraldine began to be disquieted; but her situation admitted of no ex- trication. She felt its annoyances the more as she beheld, at a little distance, the grave, sedate, and cir- cumspect eye of. Randall Hammond fixed upon the proceedings. IBut the confusion grew. First, there was some ~little ~awkwardness in Tom Nettles himself. lie wheeled to the right when he should have gone left, and when the figure called him to cross over, he sent his partner into the arena. She was constantly blun- dering; but this Jones Barry was now becoming too happy to perceive. Though a very fair dancer himself, his errors soon became apparent. Yet he was correct- ing Nettles all the while "Wrong,, Tom; to the right about! *Now we go! how it bja~es! Whoop! She flies! Glorious, Tom; eli ?" and he strove, while speaking,. to bestow a $igrki- ficant look with those eyes which were momently be- coming more and more small. Round. he went, whirling hi~ partner with him. Round went Tom Nettles, with hi~ nearly round partner, her enormous sides seeming to Tn~ ~X~N~S$~Aw's ST~RY. 2O~ sweep ~an4 force back, at the same moment, every ib~ jec~ xf~ the circle. Wrong, Mr. Barry,!' ~aid Geraldine, as he~ darted forward with a bound after the leviathan beauty~. ~ Not a bit of it!" h~ cried~ with .m hiccough. "gore !~ ~aid Nettks"to' P~llyiRwbank~ "There 1" he cried,, in. the next moment.. "Now !" he muttered; as 'he wj~ede4 her forward, "here V' as he whirled her back~, Her face~w&was red a~s the. ~nn at~'.setving, afte~' a .hard day's tra~e1. ir~ hot weather. ~. flier breath eam~ ~and went witho:kay~ ing~her ~~ry sure 6~ its cOmitLg. Bar~'ry grew '&n~ more happy;.made ~fl so~'ts .~f moyemen~s;t~aii points, of the compass; and,' at l&ngth,~'while all ~a~buz~,aiid bustle; and confusion, a terrible ~.epn~us~ion was liea~d. ll&had ~otne~ in conflkt with ~'olly, in 'one ~f l~i~ ~rratm moments, and 4ie event was precisely such as might be anticipated from the eticounter of the earth with the tail of the great comet. It was more than a comet's tail, comparatively speaking, that which overthrew' Jones Barry; but down he went, his. legs passing com~ pletel~ from under him, and bet~e~n :the' uplifted,'feet of Polly, e~'eoting that catastrophe ~hich the "mere jostle with him~ had not Qec~sioned. Pown~ she went also, in~tlie midst '~f the ring, which spread 'out oni all sides to make 'the space which h~r d~mensious' reiidered necessary, ax~d ~with a squall' that ~Eook the house t~ its centre. There was no describing ~th~ s&?ne-4he terror, the ~creams, the disq~iiet. "J~ack. to back.!" cried'II~arry, now fairly 4ru~k and, sending out his legs as well as he could, with' their movements somewhat cramped by the pile which ~he fairPolly, still continued to present, a sort of fortress against' all his~ ~fforts. "Help me uP,'for 'mercy's sak~ !'~ wa~ the implering' entreaty o~' the fat unfortunate. Nettles 'tried honestly to do so, but his laughter ~leprjye{' lilin of all his strength; and it'~as"left for Randatl.Ranim&nd;. who, at the first signal of tumult, extricafed. Geraldine from 18 page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: ~fl, THE TENNESSEEAN'8 STQRY. ~OT the 'ring, to do this friendly office for the confounded maiden, whose hurts and alarm had not made her for- getful and indifferent 'to. ~he awkward exhibition which she, bad made, particularly in fa1li~g, an event rendered utterly unavoidable from the fact that Barry's feet - ~came between her legs at the moment when she was whirling' upon a single pin. The dance broke up in the rarest confusion, J3i~rry being berne out by Nettles, with the ass~st~nce of sQ~me other of the conspirators; having hurt his head, ~as' it was fabled, with striking * against th~ floor. ~ut the blow came from the "peuch"~ out of that antique "jimmyjohn," which Abram had so ~inwisely discoveredd among his old master's treasureS.~ The unfortunate gallant was taken to an outhouse, and siii~gly put to Bleep i~pom a straw heap; his last intelli- gible words being: "Back to back! back' to back, Miss K. CJJAPTflR XYJi. SHOWING THAT, AS REGAILDS HORSEFLESII, A W0MAN' IS AS STUBBORN AS A MULB.: THAT night Jones Barry slept at the "Lodge." The. excellent hostess, who ~but too justly suspected' his eon~ edition, having made the proper inquiries after the' 4ep&r~ ture, of her' guests, soon ascertained where his treache- rous friend, Nettles, had bestowed, him, and had him borne to a corofortablechamber. He himself seemed to. have been unconscious of the transition. it is the tradi- tion, which Nettles traced up to Abram, that the o~ly words spoken by him, when disturbed, for removal, were the same 'which he had last spoken in the ball-room: "Back to back, Miss I'oliy." ~The next day at ~' late hour, on opening his eyes, he found Abram in~ waiting. Coffee and toast were brought him in his chamber~ ; for his offences were readily forgiven by 'his indulgex~t host- ess, and no attentions were withheld. $he gave him every opportunity.. He came forth, at nOon, looking very much ashamed of hinns~lf, with only a confused recollection of what had taken place. lie said not a syllable about the peach-brandy, but the good ~house- keeper had already extorted a confe~siou from Abram. This she kept to herself ~ and, in conversing with, him about the accident, she generously threw ~dl the. blame upon poor Polly Ewbanks.. '~ ' ' "She's so monstrous fat, arid' so mighty dumsy,4hat V wonder she ever shows'hemeW among young pe~opl~ ~t all. Bsit how's your .h~ad'now, Mr. flarry?"' "Prime! 'Twould be better; I think,, if I had. a little something ~to settle my stomach. I ate. too many sweet things last night." page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] I 208 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, "Perhaps they put too much honey in your peach !" said the Widow, slyly. "IL~1each, oh! I' do recollect drinking a little with Nettles. By the way,. Mrs. Foster, a little of that stuff it's a fine old liquor,, wouldn't be amiss. "On the principle," retorted the widow, "so well known~among yow gay young men, that the hair of the dog is always good for the bite." "Ah !" said the offender, "I'm afraid you know every- thing, Mrs. Foster. You're quite too knowing; yes, you are!" "We. know enough to be indulgent, Mr~ Barry. What say you to the peach ?" His assent was not, hard to obtain, and while Mrs. Foster compounded the peach toddy with honey, she gave' him th~ gratuitous information that " poor dear Mr. Foster was quite fond of his peach~dram. I made it f~r him regularly twice a day, Mr. Barry; once about this hour, and once just before he went to bed." ~"~hat a dutiful wife !" was the reflection of Barry, as he heard these words, and followed the graceful move- ments of the ~widow. He remembered the words of Net- ties: "Not a bad armful, indeed,!" His further reflec- tions were arrested by her~ presentation of the spoon, as she' had administered the tea the evening before, but n&w filled with a very different beverage. 'SHow's 4hat to y~ur liking ?" "It's the very~ thing. Ah !' you know the way to a man's 'heart !" The answeri~ 'to this compliment was arrested by the suddezi entrance of Geraldine. "You here, Mr. Barry ?". "I'm never anywhere else !" said he, quite gallantly. How are you this morning, Miss Geraldine?" "1 should rattler ask after your health !" was her quiet but sarcastic answer. "You were in the chapter of 'accidents yesterday. How's your head ?" "Much~ better, I thank you'! If my heart were only half so well !" THE ~TE~N~$S1~EAN'8 STORY. "Your heart! bless ine ! what's the matter with that?" "Ah I the paiiw-" "A pain in your heart! Does it come and go, Mr. Barry?" "No! It stays!" "Then you ought,:by all means~ to 'consult a surgeon. There's nothing more dangerous. You may go off in a minute. If you will allow me to advise, I'd ~et o.ut for Savannah, without a~ nioment!s deli~y. Nay! I'd g~ to New York, and see the celebrated Doctor Physick.',' "No I no! Miss Geraldine, no physic fQr me. It's not a pain that physic can cure. You, Miss Geraldine, you can do more for me than any doctoi~."~' "I! in what manner?" Barry looked about him. Mrs. roster had left the room. He draw his chair a little closer. "You got a~ letter from me, yesterday ?~' "Last' night, sir, yes I" "Last night, yes. There was a moment's silence. At length O~eraildine, throwing aside the ironical manner which she had been employing, and, without atiy disquiet in her air,' said frankly- "Mr. Barry, Pm very much obliged to you for the favorable opinion which you have of me." He~bo~ed and Bmiled. "But," she continued, "I have made a vow thatno man ~haU have my hand unless he wins it." "Wins it?" "Yes! Now~ sir, you have a beautiful horse which you have done me the honor to call after me. ~You have said, a thousand times in my presence, that this horse is able to beat any in the county. If this be the ease, sir, you are able to win my hand, and I put it~ upon the speed of your horse to do soP "I did think, Miss Geraldine, that my filly gould outstretch any other horse intheeounty,' but~you your- self saw that she was beaten by '$orella~"' "Yes; but you told me that she was barely beaten, 18* page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 4 210Y AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR,. and only in. consequence of previous fatigue and your own too great weight as a rider, in comparison with the rider, of 'Sorella,' who was a mere boy. Now, I tell you,, in~ the same 'day when I was honored with, your~ proposals, I received those of Mr. Henderson and Mr. Harnmon4." "And. what do they say to this?" "They ha~ not 'yet been answered. My answer g~e~ to each 'of them to~day. You will ,communicate with them. You will arrange with them for the trial of speed, and the day .of the' contest shall be the day of the wedding." 5'Miss' Geraldine, permit,,me to say that you're a most strange "young person. "I am afraid so, Mr. Barry, but I can't help it. I've made this~ strange resolution, and I can't break it. You're at liberty to enter the' aeld or not, at your plea- sure, and that you may freely enjoy this freedom, I beg leave to hand you back this letter." ."Oh! I'll try. 'I'm not afraid. If Miles Henderson ha~ t&ride 'SoreIla," I'll be sure to beat him on 'Geral- dixie.' I don't know what sort of a horse is that of Ran. 'Hammond's. They say he's a top-goer, but I'm not afraid. 'I'm ready. I'll try for it." "Then, sir, yai will see irnd confer with them. In this paper, you have my ~ond~~ions,'which I had drawn out to send ~you, not expecting to see you here. Suffer me now to wish you good morning. "It's mist deuced strange!" was the beginning of a soliloquy ~hich 'the entrance of Mrs. Foster arrested. He immediately proceeded to unfold the answer which he had received; an 'unnecessary labor, since the ami- able widow, from a neighboring closet, had listened to every syllable. He.' was surprised to see her lool~ing so well pleased, land expressed his astonishment and his apprehensions.' "Fear nothingg!" was the consoling assurance of the widow. "This requisition' of ~erMdine's, in fact, leaves the game 'entirely in your hands." k. TUE TENNESS~AN' S STORY. 211 "How's that? That beast of a horse 'Sorella' has already beaten. 'Geraldine."' "You'll be able to walk the courses! They'll not run This fellow, Hammond, is as pr9ud as Lucifer. He will bounce outright at the proposition, as an. insult; and if he didn't, his mother wouldn't let him run, for she's as proud as the devil's dam. I3etween 'em, they'll look upon Geraldine as 'little better than. insulting 'em; I've managed that. In fact, I've put her upon~the whole scheme; so that, if she really had any preference for either of these'men, she might killoff her own chances in your favor. "It does bri~ten,"said he, "but what of Henderson?". "He'll do just as Hammond tells him-just as Ham~ mond' does. There's no fear of him. Only you take care to say that you wW run.; say so from the beginning, and make your arrangements,'and leave the rest to me." "But when's the day?" "That's to be left for those. to, determine who enter for the prize. The marriage is to take place on the evening of the day when the race is decided. In other words, you're to start from w fixed point at a certain hour, on a certain day, th~ competitors all together, and he who first~'comes up to the door of the "Lodge" may claim the lady. I am to know the. day, and the wed- ding feast shall be prepared, and the parson shall be in readiness." "It's a new way of doing business." "It~s the way for you, so see to it; and don't let out to Nettles or anybody what I tell ~ou of my calculations, for then they might come to other resolutions, if it ~was only to balk us. If they once thought 'I had anything to do with it, they'd most certainly do so; for then they'd think that Geraldine was directed what to do by me." We need not linger with these parties. If Jones Barry was confounded by the answer received to his proposals, what was. the astonishment of Miles Hender- son and Hammond? The letter to the ~form.er was a page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] TIlE TENNflS$EEAN's STORY. 212 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY~ O~, 213 siniple 'but'r~spectful one. It declared the re~olutiou of the lady, and forbore all expression of feeling or opin- ion. He sallied~ off with it to H~mmond. The latter read it, and 'mentioned that he had also received an answer to his application, the purport of which was the same. He did not show the letter, however, and it was with a secret pleasure that, he remarked a material difference in the style and wording of the two letters. While tha~t to Henderson merely declared her determina- tion, in simple terms, as if written without an effort, showing the writer .to be comparatively indifferent to the feelings: which she might provoke, that to himself w~s distinctly apologetic in its tone. While her requi- sition wa~ precisely the same in both the letters) she was here prepared to show something like a regret that it had been made. "I deem it. right to say," was the language in one place, "if only in justice to myself, that it is rather in obedience to a resolution, perhaps rashly made, bmt' which I must 'still hold inviolate, that I attach so 'singular a condition and qualification to my as5ent~ particularly Where, as in the present instance, the application, as I am well aware, does me' so much honor.. ~This may have 'been ironically said, bnt it was more grateful to the self-esteem of Hammond to fancy other- wise: and though vexed and'wondering at the absurdity of the requisition, it was somewhat grateful to discover such a decided difference in the language employed in 'Henda~son's letter, and'his own. Besides, he recollected with feelings of satisfaction the inquiries which the young lady had made the night previously as to 'the speed of his horse. All this made it sufficiently apparent to his vanity 'that she desired his suoc~ss; and yet" the re- quisUion was not the less offensive to all his ideas of propriety. "To 'choose her husband according to the legs of his hQrse !" said Henderson, with praiseworthy indignation. "It is astoni~hirig I there is some mystery~about it," 'said Hammond. "To put us on the same footing with that 'silly creature, Barry !" exclaimed the one. "The mother is at the bottom of it," responded the jher "What is to be done ?" cried Hendersot~. "I'll 'be d-~---~--d if I'll run a race to get 'a wife. If it's in the heels of my horse that she's, to' find my merits, I shall be at a loss where to look' for hers." "Very well said, Miles, and quite spirited. .' ~nt,' as you s~y, what's' to be done? that's the' question. Now~ I'll tell you what I think. I ~propose to: go and 'see Miss Foster in person, and to talk the matter over with her, showing all the absurdities of this requisition, and the ridiculoi~sness of the position' into which 'it' will throw all pai~ties. I think she may be persuaded to hear reason, for Lam disposed' to think that the whole affair originated with the step-mother. What she pro- poses to effect by it, uiiless it be merely' to astonish' the natives-.--a thing grateful 'enough to her silly vanity-.!. it is impossible for me to conjecture. Now, without pressing IVliss Foster on my own. account,. I propose simply to argue the matter with her; to show her how' it will appear to the public; and endeavor to impress upon her how uncertain will be the securities of domestic happiness where the tie is based upon such &~rnditions. What think you, Miles? Such was my purpose before' you came. "Has your mother heard 'of it-have you told'her ?" "No; and I don't mean ~o tell her; for I know that she would at once require me to withdraw my proposals. She would' never forgive~ Geraldine for what she would regard as an insult." "And so do I consider it. Bat, as you. say, sh~ may be led by that woman, her step-mother; who is a~ mi~~ chieyous as a~ young puppy. I don't know' but your .plan is the right 'one. You go to her. You. can talk with her. I'll ride over to Nettles's during the morning, and meet you here again at 'dinner." "Very good," was the reply, and off the parties 212 218 page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 4 214 AS GOOD AS A cOMR~Y: OR, posted. To Kettles, Henderson unfolded his troubles; but that quiz, could afford no consolation. The ~nys~- tery was entirely beyond his' solution. 1ie~ thought the affair comical "in high degree, and concluded that the principle once adopted-that of running a race for a wife-~Would completely revolutionize the concerns of marriage. "It would certainly discoixrage me from the attempt to ehai~ge my condition. II prefer running rigs to run- ning races; and if I thought ever so much of.a woman, I shouldn't thank her for admiring the legs oj~ my horse more than. she did my own ;" and, with these words, he eztende'd the favorite limbs-showing a handsomely- turned thigh, calf, and ankle-and stroked them with the complacency of a bachelor whose frequent escapes from the snares of the sex have sufficiently shown his value. Meanwhile, 'the eyes of the widow Foster beheld our hero, Randall Hammond, wheel into the' avenue and come cantering .gently up to the 'entrance of the "Lodge." She hurried to the chamber 'of Geraldine, whom she found already acquainted with the fact. She did not perceive that the countenance of the latter ex- pressed something like trepidation. She was arraying herself for theKreception of the guest. "Well,'yon'll have to see him," were the first words of the widow as she broke into the room; "' but what he comes for, unless to make you break your resolution, Ii ~iin'V see. And now Geraldine, show your firmness; for no matter what n~an you'marry, if youiwaver now, you'll never be yo~ir own mistress afterwards. ' He'll rule you without mercy, if you don't. 'I know some- thing of men. They're, all tyrants where you let 'em; and this man, Randall Uammond, is perhaps' by nature one of the greatest despots 1' ever saw. Ills mother's educating has mad6' his nature a great dieal worse than it would have been 'by itself. 'He's too proud, mark me, to run horse or man for you. He's too proud, in other~ words, to climb the .tree for the fruit. It's a U I TII~ TI~N~ES$EEAx's STORY4 sufficient honor forhim to open his mouth 'and let the ripe grape fall into it. But I wouldn't be so ripe~~a~ aU that, either. Now, I know that he. loves yoi~ ~esper~, ately; and only you hold Qut, 'and make no concession, and he'll have to come to'your terms. Itil be' a 'bitter pill for his pride to swallow; but'sw~llowit he will, xttther than 'lose his fruit. All your happiness depends onlus- being made to see that you are 'lirrri. "~Po keop frot~ being imposed upon, a woman has only to show that she won't yield; and it will be as it was with Mohaedaud the znountain-~if you don't give in to the man, "he'll. have to give in to you. Mark what I say, my child, and keep to your resolution. Beware of his tine argu- ments, and 'have but the one answer: 'It's a vow, Mr. Hammond, it's a vow; and if you truly love me, 'you'll run off your own legs' as well as your horse's, a~nd not find it so difficult or so unpleasant.' Stick to that, and I'll engage all comes out as you wish it~' 'He'd like to have you without any trouble, for that's what 'his prda requires; but, sooner than bse you, he'llrun a fQot-racQ into the bargain; and not stop at a "hop, skip, ~n'd jump.' ' Mrs. Foster was accustomed to rabbl& on 'in This manner. "But there was a great deal' that was artful. in her speech, a great deal which she did not believe; herself, but which' she yet 'framed adroitly to impress upon the belief of her daughter. Thus, while insisting that it was only the pride of Hammond that would re- volt at the conditions which she stipulates, she yet took care to insist that .this ~pride was~ not' sufficiently stwb~ born to risk the final loss of charms which ~he so ear- nestly desired. S'he had', by this time, discovered that' he was Geraldii~e's favorite, and she felt the danger Xf suggesting 'that (as ~Ii~ herself, 'believed) there was .~very probability of his' taking so much offe~1c9 at the ~'equisi- tion as to withdraw his application for 4her han~L, To' stimulate her pride, therefore, wit'hQut making. 'timid her 'hope,'was the policy of her game; and she ha4 just the requisite cunning to succeed. When the ~erva~n~ page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] ''I 2I~6 ~s OO~OD AS A OO~1XJDflY: ou, t~nnoun~e& Mt Ji~minond, witk 'the further intimation that he g~lled ~o~-~ee~Miss F&ster in particuThr, Geral- dine was armed. WillI certain high notions of feminine p~rogative, and ~w~s prepai~ed to gi'v~e ~iis pride a lesson ~ucfr a~~ould, make it tremble -with ju~t apprehensions for her love. 'Not ~hat she felt quite secure in her con- viotions, but that she felt 'quite' wilful. People fre- quelitly are never more apt to "be' perverse' than when they feel ~haV:;they' reaso~ feebly ~nd unjustly, ~nd, working i~pon ddldish passions' and fQolish principles, Mrs. Foster had' ece.ed~d in rousing-a temper in -her yrot4g hich n~ade her imperious without' making 'her conlide - She was resolute, in her' pur}k~seas she de- scended to the parlor;, but her '~ he~rt trembkd 'with strange ehill~ and apprehensions all the while. - -The first meeting was one of comparative awkward- - ness ,on J.~tE sides. But manliness was tlie particular characteristic of Randall hammond, lie had a duty to perform, ~nd he soon approached it. Having~satis- fled himself of his course, -there' was a simple' 'sturdy directness of purpose ir~ his mind that, -brought him at once to its performance. Gently speaking, and tenderly taking her hand-~-a proceeding which she did' not resent -4e spoke inihoso 'soft, subdued centst, which -are ~upposed~to indicate equally the presence of a warm feeIh~g' and of b~- proper taste. -" My;dear" Miss Foster, you have proposed a singular c~nditiou for us, as that. on which your--hand is to be obtained." ~ ' / "I ~aid and felt 'that it~was so, Mr.. -Hammond." "But ~surely you are ~iot1 serious, in.~he requisition? You c~nziot ~irely mean to peril your huppines~. on the heels~of a horse?" -s "Yen p'i~t it it~ strange language, sir.', -"'-'But in language th~ m~st appropriate;. 'certainly. This surely -is'- the -'fact. You tell the gentlemen Kwho pr~o~iose 'for -youi~ hand that there is no choice between them. ' This, '~f itself, might well' stagger the. affections 'of one wbse self-esteem is as active. as his passion.?' TilE TENNESSEEAN'8 STORY. 217 "But I did not mean anything of the sort, sir." "Then, permit me to say, the case becomes still 'more perilous for yourself, if less offensive to the suitor; since, if you have a choice, you wilfully subject it to all the chances of the dice by risking it unnecessarily on the speed of an animal which may fail, Qf a rider Wh4~ may fall, of a will which may take offence at 50 UIL- wo'nted a requisition, and withdraw from the pursuit even where his affections are most deeply interested." "It appears to me, Mr. Hammond, you describe ~ very feeble passion when you speak of such.". "By no means, Miss Foster. The passion may b~ as warm and active as it should be-the love unquench- able and enduring; but the sense of propriety no less tenacious, and the wholesome laws of principle too stubborn to give way to any impulses of the heart Un- less they are found justUled by virtue." "Is it possible, Mr. Hammond, that the affecti~us should be warm or devoted where the individual refuses to peril his horse to obtain them 7"' -' "I Foster, ~peril my life for this hand, rn~ dear Miss should occasion require it; but have you for- gotLen that most famous passage in the history of chivalry, when the imperious beauty, conscious of her power upon the heart of a noble knight, threw h'~er glove into the amphitheatre at the moment when ,~n angry lion was stalking over it, and motioned to the brave cavalier to restore itt?" "And he?"' "Obeyed her, braved -the lion, recovered the glove, and restored it to the lady." "Well! Was it not nobly done ?-" "Perhaps! In those days stich -follies had a signifi~ cance and merit which they do not possess now. But there is a sequel to the story." "Pray tell it." "The knight who braved the lion for the lady, from that moment yielded the lady t6 other knights. He turned away from the reckless beauty who ~euld peril 19 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] the life of her lover only to exhibit her power over him; and the world applauded the desertion, and the beauty was abandoned by all other knights." The pride of the maid was touched. "In this fable, Mr. Hammond, I am to behold a warning, I suppose." "A truth-a principle-is a warning, Miss Foster, to all mankind. In proposing for your hand, I was prepared to let you see into my whole . nature-my feelings, opinions, and the principles by wbich I am governed. I am now dealing with you with the frank- ness of one who hopes to find a wife in the woman with whom he speaks. I speak with you unaffectedly. I would peril my life for you in the moment of necessity, and joy to do so. I might peril it, as a proud man, at your mere requisition, or your caprice; but it would be also at the peril of my esteem for you. There is no peril in bestriding a blooded horse, and engaging in the contest you propose; but it endangers self-respept, it offends public opinion, it degrades the suitor, as it ad- miTts no difference-except, perhaps, as a jockey-be- tween him and his competitors, and-" He paused. "Go on, sir." "I almost fear, Miss Foster." "Nay, sir, you have spoken with little fear, thus far. You may surely finish."q "I will! It is only right that I should show the dan- ger to yourself. It puts the lady in the attitude of one whose standard depends upon her caprice and whims, rather than her principles. "You speak plainly-certainly without fear." "My dear Miss Foster, I have perilled all my life in the offer I have made you of my hand. I have every- thing at stake which is precious. Pardon me, if this consideration makes me bold, where love, ~alone, would only make me humble. We are both young, but you much younger than myself.. You have seen the world only through the medium of other eyes. It is easy with the young to err, and seeing thus, to see falselyy even in the most important interests. I should almost be disposed to think that, in making this requisition, against which I beg most respectfully to protest, you have obeyed any but your own impulses~ Let me en- treat you to reverse it." "IReally, Mr. Hammond, you attach a singular im- portance to a horserace." "Surely, not so much as you, Miss Foster, when you are willing to risk all your own happiness upon it." "It is your pride, sir." "It is, but I trust not an improper pride." "I don't know, sir; but my pride too is concerned. You have been told that I have made a vow. I have said, to you, that I felt it to be rash, and feared that it was foolish, but the resolution was taken. I will not now say whether I do or do not regret it. Enough, that it is unchangeable." "Do not say this, I entreat you, Miss Foster; for my sake! I entreat-~--But no! To you I may be nothing. For your own sake, then~for your future peace, and happiness, and hope-do mit peril everything on a re- solution so utterly unmeaning and without obligation. It needs but little effort of wisdom to show that truth, propriety, common sense, all agree to absolve you from such a vow. Beware how you persist! lit will be fatal." He rose as he spoke. "Do you threaten, Mr. Hammond ?" "Warn! Warn only." "I thank you for your warning, sir; but I doubt whether it is due more to your notions of principle than to yo~.ir own feelings of pride, and-" "My pride, Miss Foster! You do not know or un- derstand me. I spoke not for myself in this matter, but for you. Not with regard to him who should be fortunate enough to secure this har~d, but in regard to the happiness of that heart which you will permit me to say, I believe to be more misguided than wilful. The conditions which you couple with this hand~will, I fear, 218 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, THE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 219 218 219 page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, ~reMIy peril that 'heart, no iiiatter who the suitor it shall ,wifl. Am I to understand that you will not, in any' circumstances, modify this resolution ?" He took her hand as he ~poke. His eyes were fixed upon hers imploringly, with an expression of the deepest interest in her reply. Hers sunk beneath them. The struggle in her heafr was great, but the whisper of the evil genius was still i~i her ears. "It is his pride~ that speaks, anti, you must humble it, if you would not have him your master. He will not give you up. He will yield to your terms, when once he finds that he cannot command his own." She faltered forth a renewal of her resolution. Then he rose,, released her hand, and said.-. "I leave you, Miss Foster; of my determination on this subject you will permit me~ to write hereafter." lie was gone, and she hurried to her chamber and flung herself in a fit of weeping upon her bed. The mother would have consoled her, but in vain. "You have destroyed me !" was all she said. "lie will 7iever come again." "Aiid if he doesn't," was the elegant response of the mother, "there's as good fish in the river as evc~r came out of it." A proverb that certainly fails in respect to the mack- erel fishery. We never get half so good a mackerel, nowadays, as was common ten or fifteen years ago, though we pay as good a price for it. 'I THE TENNESSEBAN'S STORY.. 221 CHAPTER XVIII. e 110W THE RACE WAS RUN, HOW THE RACE WAS WON, AND WHAT HAPPENED THEREUPON. "SHE may whistle for it! I'll never marry a wo- man who chooses me on the score of my mare's legs and bottom." Such was the elegantly-declared resolution of our now thoroughly indignant Miles Henderson, when Hammond reported how ill he had sped in his mission to Geraldine. "She certainly pays us no compliment." "Compliment! She* treats us as if one man was just the same to her as another. Who'd marry a wo- man on such terms? What man who values his happi- ness at all will take a wife who don't prefer him to all other suitors ?" "Miles ?" "Well, Ran. ?" "Geraldine does express this preference." "How?" "She knows very well that 'Sorella' can beat Barry's filly. She has done so. Now, it seems to me that this must have been in the recollection of Geraldine when she made the requisition." "Yes, but 'Ferraunt' can beat 'Sorella.'" "True, perhaps; but if you will engage in. the con- flict with Barry, I'll decline it. I'll leave the field to you." "No, no, Ran.; that won't do. I sha'n't run at all. If the lady don't like me sufficiently to answer 'Yes' at once, we're quits. I wouldn't have her now 19* page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, on any terms.' I think she has treated us most out- rageously." "I'm disposed to think her foolish and vexatious mother's at the bottom of it all, though what she pro- poses to gain by it, I do not exactly see; yet a thought strikes me. It's very clear that Mrs. Foster has all along preferred Barry to either of us. Now, if we withdraw from the field, he walks the course and takes the purse. This, perhaps, will be just the thing that the mother hopes for. That she has blinded Geraldine' by some artifice, is very possible. Now, I'm 'not will- ing that' the mother should be 'gratified. I'm disposed equally to balk her and to punish Geraldine. 'I feel something of your indignation; and, though' I'm sure she prefers either of us to Jones Barry, yet I fear she presumes upon what she thinks our passion for her, to coerce us With this humiliating. condition. 'She seems to take for granted that we caiuiot but yield, howeVer little we may 'relish doing so." "What's your plan ?" "To accede to her conditions." "How, accede 1" "Yes, apparently at least. We'll write her to that effect, see Barry, mane the arrangements for the race, and get all things in readiness." " Well !" "It will be easy to throw Barry out-to beat him after the first mile-and thus defeat the calculations of 'the mother." "Well!" "We agree that the wedding takes place the very day of the race. Let them have the company, let ~them get the parson, let them make the feast, and let "~Vell! well!" "Ride off as*e came, leaving them to eat the supper, and marry as 'they can." "Bravo! I like it! It will shame them to the whole country:" I I I TH~ TENNESS~EAN'$ STORY. 228 "They deserve it! What think you'?" "It's a sentence! They shall pay the forfeit. The idea is capital. It'll be a lesson to such people here- after." "Then let us proceed about it. What we do We must do quickly, so that the thing shall not be bloWn unnecessarily abroad I shall keep it from my mother if I can; at all ~vents, I must keep from her that I mean to put in for this prize. To do this, I'll go home with you, and we'll write and work from your house. To Barry we must sond to-niorrow~ and have the race early next week." The arrangements, as devised, were all made. Barry was invited to an interview, and readily came into the arrangements somewhat disappointed, however, to ~nd 'so prompt an acceptance of the conditions, in spite of the confident predictions of. Mrs. Foster. That good lady 'was quite as much confounded as anybody else; but she made the best' of a bad bargain. She encour- aged Barry to hope; and it was with a confident face jhat she could now say to her daughter-. "You see? 'Tis as I told y6u~-yon have only to be firm, and he submits. This is the way with men, always. Women yield too readily. Let them only stick out to the last, and they'll rule in the end." Meanwhile, the affair got abroad, and was the cause of no little excitement. The subject is one which still, to this day, interests the people of t~,he surrounding country. They call it the "race for a wife." Of course, it was the crowning event iti the 'history of Geraldine Foster's eccentricities. They little knew how small was the share of the poor girl in the~ pro-. ceeding. Nettles was delighted with th~ affair. Its novelty charmed him. He did not exactly expect that Hammond would have engaged in the contest, for he had quite as high an opinion of that gentleman's pride of character as was entertained by Mrs. Foster; ~but he said nothing against it. He told Jones Barry, however, that the game was all up with him; that the "Fair page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] 224 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, Geraldine" stood no chance against either the heels of "Ferraunt" or " Sorella." "But," he continued, "I shall be glad to see you beat, for reasons ready given you. This girl is not the girl for you. Better the step-mother, Mrs. Foster. She's neither old nor ugly, and ~he knows what good living is. Besides, she's a widow, whose gratitude to the man that will take her off her own hands will make her tolerably sub- missive. IBut, 'better still, the fat girl, ,Susannah, at hiram Davy's. corner. She's the good creature, the sweet laughing armful of happiness, all fat and good- humor. Even Polly Ewbanks, whom you overthrew at the ball, would be more suitable, and, for that matter, she evidently likes you." "Don't speak of her, the cow! I'll never forgive her for that tumble, She threw me, thrusting her ele- phant legs between mine, just when I was caz~orting." "The boot's on t'other leg, Jones. It was you that thrust your pegs in the wrong direction, and you did the mischief. In' truth, Jones, I'm afraid it was more design on your part than accident." "I swear to you, Torn, I never designed anything; but I'm willing to confess that that 'peach' was quite too much for me, after the sherry and champagne." "Not a bit of it; but there was a sort of destiny that~made you and Polly Ewbanks fall together; and, mark my words, I prophesy that, if ever you marry, it'll be one Qf the three-Polly Ewbanks, Sukey Davy, or the widow Foster-and I don't care much which; though Sukey or Polly, either, ,would make you the best wife. It's very certain that if Geraldjne Foster is to be got by running only, you stand no chance against 'Ferraunt' and 'Sorella.'" lVl7rs. hammond at length heard Qf the terms of the conflict, and was shocked at its monstrosities. She at once appealed t~5 her son in the earnest language of a mother, to avoid any such competition. He answered her evasively but satisfactorily, in calm but earnest language. "Fear nothing, mother; there is no prospect of my ever being united' with Miss Foster." And here the matter rested until the day appointed for the trial. The three competitors had, itt their separate answers, agreed upon the terms. They had also-using a discretion which had been conferred upon them-concurred in entreating that t~e da~ of the race should be that of the wedding also. The coinpaiiy were accordingly invited, and the fleverend Timothy Bind-' well, of the Presbyterian Church, was entreated to be present, and made his appearance in his robes of office at the appointed hour. He was one of those to. whom it was always agreeable to bring the young together in the blessed ties of marriage, particularly where the wedding-supper was apt to be good, and the marriage- fee a liberal one. his ~xpeetations, on the present' occasion, were of superior magnitude. It was observed as an evil sign by Geraldine that *Mrs. Hammond; though invited, was noV pi'esent when the company was assembled. She remarked this to her mother, as some- thing omii~ou~; but the latter had her answer. "Oh! she no doubt feels as bitter about it as she can. If her pride could have ruled her son in such a matter, he had neVer consented to the terms." "I hardly think that he will consent now." "How! When we have it in black and white, under his hands? But dress, my child"-this conversation took place in Geraldine's chamber-" dress, so as~t6 be quite in readiness. I'll send Rachel up to help you~" "Send no one! I'll ring if I want her." The* mother left the room, and the poor girl, as if with a presentiment of the mortification w Which she was destined, sank down listlessly before the window, looking out upon the long avenue up which the c'om~ petitors were to ascend. How bitter were her reflec- tions at this moment! How sh& deplored the readiness with Which she had given ear to her mother's counsels! and with what warning solemnity did the words and looks of Hammond, in their last interview, whefi he TilE T~NNE5SEEAN'S STORY. 225 page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] came to expostulate, rise to her recollection! She probably would not have been dressed but for the re- appearance of Mrs. Foster, who insisted upon her immediate preparations. She assisted her in making her toilet, taking care all the while so to speak as to fortify the pride of the damsel, and excite her spirits through the agency of her vanity. Pale, but-in the language of Mrs. Foster-" beautiful as an angel," the devoted girl was at length prepared for the conflict and the company. Meanwhile~ let us look after the several claimants for her hand. We need not detail the preliminaries, important to the parties, but not so to us, which were duly arranged among themselves. Time, place, distance, the signal for the start, were 'all agreed upon; and at the proper minute the several competitors, each attended by his friend, appeared upon the ground. Tom Nettles offici- ated on the part of Jones Barry, who' had i~ fact be- come a sort of dependent upon the superior judgment of that humorist, and never failed to seek him on every emergency. Henderson and ilammond were attended by two young men, whom it is not important to introduce more especially to c~ur readers. The word was given, and the three steeds leaped off most beautifully together, but had not~run a hundred yards before the "Fair Geral- dine," as if fearing the loss of her good name in such 'formidable rivalry~, or frightened by some unusual object along the roadside, suddenly bolted into the woods, tak- ing' rider through bush and through brier, a formidable chase, which, but for his frequent practice as a fox hunter, 'would have certainly endangered his neck. When the unfortunate Barrysucceeded in reining in his capricious beauty, who seemed disposed to emulate her namesake, he found l~is competitors clean gone out of sight, and himself hopelessly distanced. Tie gave up the, chase entirely, and, cantering out into the open track, came forth just as ~Nettles, and the two other bottle-holders, were riding forward to the "Lodge." lie joined them, and, putting~ the best air upon his defeat possible, he told them how it happened. The two friends of Ham- mond and Henderson condoled with him like men of proper gallantry; but Nettles openly congratulated him upon the event. "The hand of fate is in it, Jones. You are destined for Polly Ewbanks, Sukey Davy, or the widow. I'm glad of it. This jade is too high-necked for you, and would have ruined you forever as a good fellow." Thus talking, they wheeled into the avenue. Mean- ivhile, let us hurry to the "Lodge," 4~nd see how things are working there. Geraldine had not long descended to the parlor, and was in the midst of salutations and congratulations innumerable and inconceivable, when the cry rose from the piazza-." They are coming! 'They are coming!" This occasioned a rush. The bride was deserted, and with a strange sinking of the heart, she crouched, rather than reclined, on the sofa, leaving it to others to report the conflict, which she no longer had the courage to behold. Mrs. Foster was the first to bounce into the piazza as she heard the cry. Parson iI3indwell placed himself along-side of her, and the seve- ral groups, according to relationship or intimacy, ranged themselves in near neighborhood. The banisters were thronged, two long benches were filled with crowding forms,' and several stood. upon chairs dragged for the purpose from the parlor. Poor Geraldine hearkened breathlessly to the murmurs and the cries from without. "The sorrel has it!" cried one. "And now the iron 'gray !" cried another. "But where's Barry? Where's Barty ?" was the impatient inquiry of Madam Foster. "Distanced!" was the answer from one of the party, "as I always said he would be." It was evident there were but tWo horsepien, ~nd these' were Hammond and Henderson.~ The race was evidently a close one. Approaching in front, the spectators could see no inequalities in their speed, and opinion was kept in a constant state of fluctuation as they advanced. "Now they come! They coma with a rush!" 22~ AS OOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, 1~HE TENNESSEEAN'S STORY. 22'T 226 . 227 page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] '$28 AS GOOD AS A COMiWY: OR, "The sorrel has it !" "No,,' Ferraunt I'" "It's hard to say which!" "They come! They come At these words, Geraldine could bear the suspense 'no longer. She darted to her' feet, rushed to the door-way just in season to behold the two horses, lock and lock, wheel before the entrance; while the riders, waving and kissing their hands to the company, and bowing their heads, darted away at the same speed in the opposite avenue leading up the road, and were lost to sight in a moment. "What does that mean ?" demanded the parson. "They are off!" said another. "But who won "The iran gray! Hammond was ahead by a neck." "It was close work; neck and neck, and hard to say which had it till the last moment. Then it was that Ran. Hammond's horse came out a neck ahead." such was the verdict, gravely delivered, of those who had most closely watched the cohfliot. But where were the competitors? Where was he who had triumphed, an& to whom the trembling prize was to be awarded? Geraldine did tremble, but it was with a joy which spoke out in her bright eyes, and played in a sweet smile upon ~ier pouting lips. But why did not Hammond appear? What could be the meaning of that reverential bow, that wave of the hand, asthe riders continued on their course; and of the long delay Which followed? Meanwhile, Barry and Nettles, with their companions, made their appearance. The misfortune of the former was soon explained; and, in her grief and vexation, Mrs. ~Qster drew him in with her to the well.krwwn little room where he had sipped his tea and toddy at her hands, tQ~reproach him, as W0i1 as she could, for his accident and defeat. lThre he could not help 'the reflection forced upon him by Nettles, that there was really something quite lov- able in the widow. It was while they sat together that Geraldine rushed into the chamber, her face red, her eyes dilating in anger, her whole appearance that of in- [ Tflfl TENIiESSERA~'s STORY. 229 dignation almost rising into fury. She held a crumpled paper to her mother, which had once been a neatly-folded billet. "' See to what I am brought b~r your counsel!" The mother read. The note was from Hammond to Geraldine. It ran thus :~ "Mr. Hammond presumes that curiosity, as to the respective speed of his and other horses, alone, prompted the singular requisition of Miss Foster, and that she had no serious design of making such performance the con- dition of a 'solemnity so vital' to her happiness as~ that of marriage. Mr. Hammond has done his 'best to graitify 'her curiosity, and should be sorry to avail himself of'the result to~the prejudice of Miss Foster. He accordingly begs leave to release her from' anysupposed obligations. 'to himself.". "Thsgraced! Insulted!~ ~Qh that I 'were a 'manl That I :had a friend! a brother!" 4 The 'widow :pushed Barry, and, ~as Geraldine~ paced the chamber 'with fa& averted, she contrived to whis- per him. ~'He' at once started forwards 'art ~the repeated words-. "That Iwere a man! That I had a brother! 'an avenger I" "Give me thi~ hand, Miss Geral4ine, and 'I pill "be your avenger." "Will you kifihim, kill him' ?" she demanded, turning quickly. "Who ?" "Who but Randall Hammond? He has degraded me before ~all 'these people. Kill him, and you shall have the hand that he rejects with scorn." "I'll call 'him out. 1111, shoot him if~I can 'KDo so, 'sir! do it quickly, and I am your yours !" 20 page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, CHAPTER XIX. FIST~L5 FOR TWO- j~HE DUEL. Jorn~s BARRY was greatly elevated by his new com- mission. His vanity was~ immediately tickled by' being adopted as the champion of the fair. He, had heard something of the days and institutions of chivalry, and he felt all over knight-errantish. It was not that he de- sired to shed blood, for he was, in fact, rather a kind- hearted creature; but to be somebody, and to be moving always conspicuously in some one's eyes, was sufficiently grateful to make 'him lose' sight of all other matters. Full of fight, he hurried at once to Tom Nettles, to whom he laid bare all the particulars of his situation. "It's d-~d strange V' said Nettles; '.' and yet I don't know. To touch a woman on that point is to run into the quick with a rusty gimlet. I suppose, since you've pledged yourself to the lady, you'll have to chal- lenge; but Ran. Hammond Will blow you into splinters. He's a dead shot at a shingle." "A shingle's not a man; and I can shdot too. The question is, Tom, will you see to this business for me "Oh, certainly 1" '"Well, ride over to Hammond this morning, make the arrangements, and, after that,' come and give me some practice at the distance." "Very good. I'll rida round to your house from Hammond's in time for diiiner, and we'll make a night of ~t. 'It's no time for ~practice after dinner, so we'll leave that for uiext morning at, sunrise. This being agreed on, Nettles at once proceeded with the challenge, which was peremptory, to Hammond. It must, not be forgotten that the bearer of this letter was 'I a great admirer of Hammond. Nettles only amused himself ~with Barry, and did not respect him. "Why, Nettles 1" said Hammond, "how can I go out with this foolish fellow? The thing is ridiculous. He is the laughing-stock of the country. A goo&meaning;~ harmless creature enough, but one whom f should be sorry to think of raising to my level. As a general rule, I have resolved to fight 'anybody that makes a demand on me, if only to prevent annoyance from persons who are' always to be 'found anxious to make for themselves a capital of courage out of your reluctance. But I should be afraid of the ridicule 'which would' attach to a formal combat with one so utterly silly and ridiculous as Barry." "Well! there'e some danger of that, I confess; but we'll keep the thing as quiet' as possible."' "You can't keep it quiet. His vanity will never suf- fer him to sleep until he succeeds in making everybody know that he is a champion for the lady." * "Some~ danger of that; but the truth is, IRan., the fellow is resolved on it; and when that's the ease he can annoy you quite as effectually, and perhaps make' the ridicule much more successful, than it would be if you were to meet him. If you say you won't meet him, why,' I shall give up the business; but, in his present temper,' he'll only seek somebody else, who will be very apt to follow it up, ,and vex you into' it at last. Now, I have a plan by which' to shift the ridicule to the proper shoulders." ' He whispered his scheme to Hammond, who heard him with a dubious shake of the head. "If I am to go out," said he, "I should prefer to do so with a serious resolution. I should never wish to trifle in such'nlattrs." Nettles had his 'arguments, and, without being con- vinced, Han~~mond consented that his decision should be referred to Miles' Henderson, whoni 'he' made 'his sense-keeper, as well as friend, on the' occasion. The two rode ~over~ together 'to Henderson's," and 'the 'whole affair was submitted to him. Hammond, as, in duty 231' TilE TENNESSEEAN'$ $TORY~ page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] * bound; put himself in the hands of his friend, and the subtle Nettles found it much' more easy to impress the latter than the former with the propriety of his scheme, whatever that may have been. At present, its purport is concealed from us. Henderson, indeed, was greatly tickled' with it, and Hammond,. still doubting,. was corn.- pelled to submit. "it'll be rare ~port,~R~n. We shall have the laugh to ourselves.~ Let him get the lady if, he can, but, at all events~ gfte him a mighty bad scare. I know Jones well. ile's got as soft a heart as arxylody in the worid~ with all his 1 luster and conceit, and if we don't make him run. f~r it, my name's not Nettles." Hammond, it iau~t be confessed, did not altogether relish the cool and philosophical manner with which the other was prepared. to consign the lady to the arms of her champion. lie still felt a deep sympathy with Ge- raldine, though sh~ had greatly mortified his pride, and it was only with the conviction that her conduct had been dictated by a total indifference to his claims, that he was reconciled to yielding her up without.~ farther struggle His' mind was distracted by lurking doubts of this same indifference, and was continually recalling the numerous little instances in her conduct which had encouraged 'him in the belief that she really had a pre- ference for him~; but these impressions he had been comiielled to discard, however unwillingly, in the more recent events which we have described. But her beauties were more deeply engraved upon~ his imagina- tion than he had been willing~ to believe, and he now listened to her final surrender with a secret sense of' pain, of which he was thoroughly ashamed. The plan arranged between Nettles ~and ilenderson for the duel was such as he could not approve of, and he only sub- mitted to it as one accustoms himself, in such cases, to submit to the conclusions of his friends, evei~ where he deems them unwise. it is a matter of punctilio which decides many such affairs, in defiance of the deliberate judgment of nearly all the parties. But upon this head 232 282~ AS GOOD' AS A COMEDY~ OR, 288 THE TENNESS1~EA~'S STORY. 4 we need not dila~te. Enough that Nettles went off with an acceptance of his challenge. In three days the par- ties were to meet. Time, place, distance, and all' ~he particulars. were fully agreed on between the two seconds, and they proceeded-one of them, at least.-. to put their principals in training. Barry, not a bad ~hot before, was practiced every day; at frequent periods, until he could snuff a 'candle. "You're now as good a shot," ,said Nettles, "as'you need be; you can snuff a candle at ten paces.~~ "Ain't that famous shooting ?" "Yes; but I've seen Ran. Hammond divide a firefly upon the wing!" Nettles had his own mode of encouragement, truly, and possessed the art, in high degree, of warming and cooling his patient in the same instant-as in Russia, they tell us, a fellow is taken smoking out of the vapor-bath and rolled over and lover in a mountain of snow-and all with the' view to reactions Nettles was never more happy than when he could exercise the nerves of our friend Barry with such pleasant ' contra- dictions. As soon as the duel had been determined upon, and the preparations made, Jones Barry' pro~ needed to report progress to the lady whose battle he espoused. Mrs. Foster, we are pleased to state, was now entirely opposed 'to the affair; but Geraldine's anger continued. She had few words; but these 'were all vindictive and wrathful. She'thanked Barry for his zeal, and renewed the assurance that, with the Thil of Hammond, he should have her hand. Nothing was said of ~his own fall;' but, of course, in that event, the hand could be of no use' t'o him. Before the parties separated, Geraldine drew h~m aside. "Mr. Barry, I must be present at this meeting.". "You, Miss Geraldine?" "Yes,' I must see it. I must 'see him fall !" "But how? We have but two friends on each side present." "I care nothing for your fantastic forms.. I must be 20* 283 page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 234 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, present. I do not mean to be seen, but to see. You must manage it that I shall be hidden in the neighbor- ing wood. None, shall know." "]3ut,~, Miss Geraldine-p" "Oh! It's strange, it's unreasonable, it's unnatural. F know all that But I must and will be there. Tell me, will you arrange it?" His answer was a compliance, and he kept hi~ word. Concealed in a neighbo~ring.c~pseGeraldine Foster was present when the duel took place. ~he had contrived to get away from the "ILodge" without her mother's knowledge9 The place of meeting was at a spot, about three miles off from it, well known to th'~ combatants of the neighborhood as "2Pistol Quarter." flere, on a pleasant afternoon, not ten days after the equestrian contest for our damsel, the same parties met to decide a more formidable issue. The preliminaries for a duel are n~ually very much alike in all cases, and ~they were not departed from in the present instance. Nettles, for once in his life, seemed thoroughly serious. Lie pro- ceeded to~ hi~ duties with the air of a man who antici- pated the worst, To Barry he said, while placing him- * "You look quite too fierce and vindictive, Barry. I am afraid you have bloody feelings. I trust you 'will ke satisfied with winging him only9" "I am Sworn to kill him," was the stern response. "Then God have mercy on his soul and yours! Should be entertain a like feeling, you will both be at 'Cedar Mount' (the' graveyard) before to-morrow night." Thus saying, he placed his man, and after the lapse of a Cew seconds, the signal words were given: one---~ two-.~three!. The sharp fire followed, almost instantane- '.~ ously. For a moment, both parties appeared erect, but, on a sudden, Hammond was seen to totter and" to fall right forward. "The bullet i~ through his heart!" was 'the hurried 'speech; of Nettles to his principal. 'To your horse, at once, Jones, and be off as fast as Heaven will let you. It's all over with him." I ~I~H]~ TENN~SSEEAN 'S STORY. 235 "Is he dead?-.-.-have I killed him?" was the demand of Barry in wild and husky accents. "You've done that same !" "Oh! God have mercy! I'm a murderer!" "IBegone!" and with the words he pushed the paTh and conscience-stricken ~wretch from the ground,~ helped him on his horse, and saw him wheel about and disap- pear. He fled, lookingg behind him, with terror and vengeance dogging at ~his heels. page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] 236 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, CHAPTER XX. TH1~ GHOST OF A BUGGY. AT this stage of our story, it is just as well that we shoul~1 suffer our Tennessean to .put in.* It is here that he claimed to be privy himself to the affair; 'and, though we despair wholly of being able to give his lan- guage exactly, and certainly shall not attempt to con- vey the slightest idea of his 1~one and inann0r, yet, as a witn~sg on the stand, we conceive it only right that he should speak to those parts of our narrative which he himself beheld. "Tom hadn't forgot," said he, "that when the Ingins in Florida, this Powell, and Wild Cat, and Tiger Tail, and twenty more smart red skins, was playing hide and seek with Uncle Sam's rig'lars, Old Hickory swore a most stupendous oath that Tennessee could find the boys who could clean them out. I reckon I was among the first of the volunteers that turned out when the Gov'nor said we was wanted. I won't tell you how' we made out in Florida, for that's pretty much in the books and newspapers already. It's enough to know, as I said before, that the Tennessee boys didn't do better than other people. Fighting we had, and fight we did, whenever there was a chance for it; but, Lord bless your souls, there was no more seeing your inimy till his bullet was in your gizzard, than there was swallowing it afterwards with a goo~l dige9fion. And when you did see the red skin, it was on a smart gallop, on the other sidQ of some eternal swamp that you had to dross, belly-deep all the way, before you could get at him; and then you didn't get him no more than the * See Introductory Narrative. TJ~[R T~NNRS&EEAN'a STORY. 2S1T / man who hunted the flea. Well, it was on the 21st day' of November~, , 188~-4 keep all the dates in black and white-thai we weie ordered to push for the inimy into the. Wap~o ~wauip. We had had a smart brush with the red skins~, a~nd drove 'em. famous only three days before. We ~Ju~rge4 with. &'big shout into the hammocks-the ~wamp~-.an4 the Iiigins gave us yell for yell, and shot. f&r shot. They had & smart sight upon us for a good bit, whiLe we were trying to get at 'em, and they popt us over, n~an afte~ man, as they run from tree to tree, makm~g every' tree speak & bullet, as soon as they~could' put the tcrng~e behind it. Now, it happened ' that just when 1 and twenty others was. wading through a good big bitt of bQg and w&ter, with a pretty thick scrub in front, where the ingins harbored, and jest when they were blazing away their hottest, who should ~we see, ahead of us all, but a man rather under the middle size -.--a white man-as ragged as a gypsy, without any hat, land with an old musket in his hand, pushing across, shouting hi~ best, and full in the face of the fire of the red skins? Jest then, when we were all beginning to feel squeainish~ he was going ahead, and whooping, with~ Qut a bit of scare in. him. Well, that encouraged us. We saw the Ingins aim at him, and I reckon his rags had the marks of more than a, dozen bullets; but he didn't seem to mind 'em, and they sartainly never one of thorn troubled him. Away he went, shouting and shaking hi~ musket, and away we went after him, and away the Indians went before us all. We drove 'em, and got the victory. We picked up some scalps, but nothing to speak of, and lost some good fellows. But I tell you that ragged volunteer went ahead of us all, and he was this same Jones Barry, about whom I've been telling you this long story. lie had run all the way from Georgy into Florida after killing Hammond, without knowing much where he went. Never in his life had any rm~n so bad a scare. lie had run, as I may say, into the arms of the Ingins, without hearing their rifles; and I do believe, as I am a free white man, page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] 238 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, that he scared them a gr~at deal worse than our whole Tennessee regiment. For, look you, he was a man to sca e people. He was, as J tell you, in rags from head to foot. He had been living among the briers, run- ning into, them almost at -every sound. He had no covering for his head. His eyes were bloodshot; his Lace scratched over, and bleeding-on all 8ide~; and his' hair had~grown ha;lf white in twenty days. He looked for all the world like a madman. He was a madman; and, though he fought with us, and, marched with us,' and did everything pretty much as he saw u~ do, yet his seflses, I'm mighty sur~e, were, all the time; more than a hundred miles away. Somehow, the poor fellow got in with me. We marched together and slept to- * gather. I reckon he saw that I was a good-natured chap, and so he tuk to me. I soon saw that he was miserable-that there was a scare that was gnawing in him all the time-and after awhile I found- out that he was haunted constantly by the ghost of -Randall 11am- mond. One night he ran out of the tent with a terrible fright. Another time, when standing with a -sentry, he fired his ~iece~ and gave the alarm to the whole army. Then he'd. fall upon his knees and bog for mercy, and cover his eyes with his hands, as if to shut out some frightful thing he - couldn't bear to look upon~ Some- times he'd run into the hammock at midnight, tiever fearing the Ingins, though we all thought it as much as one's life was worth to go near it. - It was the dead he was afraid of all- the time. Now, there was a sodger- among the rig'lars to whom Jones Barry one night made confession and eased his heart of all its secrets. But it didn't ease him of his misery. The soldier came -to me and told me all, and I ax'd Barry; but then he was shy, and swore that he never told the fellow any such thing. - But it wasn't more than twenty~f'our hours-after, when-he come to inc and said- "-'I can't stand it much longer. I'm- almost crazy now. Ran. ilanimond comes to me every night. I'm his murderer, and he will have my blood. I must go 2HE TENNES$EEAN'S STORY. 239 back to ,Georgy, and stand trial. I'll go and give my- self up. "'Well,' says I, 'nay poor fellow, if you'll only wait till we're mustered out of service, I'll go along with. ~OUi I'm sorry for you, and I don't think you're so much to blame. You've got a heart a little too tender; o~id as you killed your man in a fair fight, I don't see as how he should haunt you. He had as much chance at you, as you at him." "'Yes! but I thirsted for his blood, and he never did me any harm.' lie was a good man too! I must go back. I will deliver myself. I see him every night, covered with~blood, and beckoning me, with his hands, to come. It's he leads me into the hammock and there leaves me. I must go back and give mself he y up to "'Well, only wait till we're mustered out, and I'll go wi1~h yow' "He promised and did wait, and I kept my word. As soon as I got my discharge, I said~to Barry, 'I'm ready.' We bought a pair of stout Seminole ponies, on a credit from our commissariat, and w~nt off like gentlemen sob dier~. I mustn't forget to tell you that he killed the mare that he made so much brag about, the 'Fair Ge- raldine,' in. his run from Georgy, and tuk it on foot as soon as he got near the Ingin country. ,How he lived, God only knows, for I never saw a poor innocent eat so little. But I encouraged him, and made light of his mischief; and by little and little he began to im- pr6ve~ We got him seine new clothes as soon as we struck- the settlement; wand, I think, when he got them on, his appetite came~ back a little to' him. One night, the first night after we crossed the Georgy line, lie ate a pretty good supper of bacon and eggs. I think-'twa~ all oWitig to his clothes. But that very night he gave me and the wh&le house a most -outrageous scare. He broke out in his night-shirt, and dashed out of the room, and down the stairs into the hall, where he squatted page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: 0~i, THE TEN~ESSEEAN'g STORY. 241 under the table. We -slept in the same room, ~nd as soon as I could slip on my breeches I made after him. He swore that the ghost of Hammond sqn~tted down at the foot of the bed, and looked over into his face, though he tried to cover with the quilt. 'I told him 'twas the hot supper that gaveAhim the nightmare, and I 'm~de him take a pretty deep swallow of apple-toddy, that the landlord made for us, after we routed him up with ~uoh a scrimmage. Well, so we went; now better, now ~worse; now calm, and now stormy, till we got ~pretty nigh his county, where all' these things took place. Then his scare came back to him, then his heart failed him; and just when the ghost stopped troubling him, he began to be troubled by the fear of the lavr~ But I said to him- "'Be a man. You've come so far, see it out. Better be hung and have it over, than to be scared to ~1eath every night.' "He groaned most bitterly, but he said, ' You'reright! I can't stand to suffer as 'I have suffered. I'm only twenty-six; and look, my head's half whites! Pm an old man in the feel as well as in the look. The ghost of Ran. Hammond has done me worsa 't'han my pistol ever did him. He's given me a hell upon earth, iso that I can't believe there's any half so bad for ixie hereafter. Go ahead!' "And so ~we went forward. It was a most. sweet and beautiful afternoon when we came into the'very' neigh- borhood of all these doings. We :had -passed several places that were famous in his recollection. There was Hullabee racecourse, where they had the ~gander-pulling, and the circus, and 'soon we drew nigh to 4he groat avenue leading to the 'Lodge,' where the y&ung lady lived that had been the cause of all the iuischidf~ / But it wasn't 'there that Barry wanted 'to go. The ~flmt place he wished, to strike for was the' farm of his 'friend Nettles, and we 'Were only 'a half a mile from ~it, acoord- ing to Barry's calculations, when we came, ~bya sudden turn in the road, upon a buggy dra~Vn by a splendid horse, and carrying two people. ~On~e of them 'was a tall and noble-looking gentIeman~ and the '6th~ ~was a most beautiful lady, perhaps about the most beautiful' I ever did see. They were coming right towards us at a 8mart trot~' and, the moment Barry laid eyes fairly. iip6n~ them, he turned pale as death, and dashed his horse into the bushes and off the road. I followed after him as soon as I could get a chance, but not till I had taken a good look at the strangers that seemed to frighten him so much. They rode by in a minute, and the gentleman gave me a civil bow as he passed. Then I pushed into the woods after Barry. I found him off his horse and hiding in the bushes, all over covered with a sweat, and trembling like a leaf in the wind. "'Why, what on airth,' says II, 'is the matter now? What has, scared you so?' "'Didn't you see him?' "' 'Who?" "'Hammond! 'Twas his ghost in the buggy!' - "'And what has his ghost to do in a buggy, I wonder? and who ever saw the ghost of a buggy before?' said II. 'I don't believe much in. such a notion, and if that was Hammond's gho'~st, I wonder what woman's ghost it was sitting along-side of him. If woman ghosts are so pretty, I shouldn't be much afraid of 'em myself.' "'Woman!' said Barry, mightily bewildered. 'Was there a woman with him?' "'Yes, as surely as there was a buggy and ~ man. Now look you, Barry; if that was Hammond in the buggy, he's just as much alive as you and me. The chance is, after all, that ybu only wounded him, aud you and your friend took a mortal scare too soon' "'No! no!' said he, very mournfully; 'haven't I seen him almost every night? hasn't he followed me everywhere ?-into the woods, into the swamps, into the hammock of the Ingins? and aiii't my head gray with his coming?' "'I don't know,' says I; 'but if that was fiammond in the hu~gy, he's no ghost; and it's your conscience 21 -t 1 1 A page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 24~ AS GOOD AS A GOMEPY: OR, ~ TENNESSEEAN 'S STORY. thi~t's been 'a troubling you. But let's push on, and see your friend Nettles; he ought to be able to tell' us all about it.' "And ;so, jest :a5 I said, we~ pushed forward, and I reckon it ~ll came ~out fast enough~ as you shall see." CHAPTER XXI. SHOWING HOW HAMMOND'S GHOST WAS LAID, UC WAS HUNG, AND HOW JUSTICE WAS DONE UP' OFFENDING PARTIES. DISMISSING Tennessee for the present, we r~ steps, and go back to the field of personal comi famous "Pistol Qunrter," which has witnessed fearful and violent transitions from time to We resume our natrative~at the moment whe~ sent po&r Barry iii terror off the field. hard] disappeared when a wild sh~ie1~ was heard from ti ing thicket, and, before the parties on the grot conjecture what was the matter, who should amongstlthem but tieraldine Foster?' Never ~ pie so muck confounded. Randall Hammond '~ on the grass' just where lie had fallen, his bo raised,, and resting on his elbow. She thre~ upon him wUh acry which betrayed the wild of personal sufibring. "I have, stain him-I have slain him! 'Spe~ Hammond; dear Hammond, 'speak to me. Say forgive me; Forgive the madness and the f have brought you to this. I loved you only' always love you; but they told me you were 'pi I ' ' tyrannical, and they provoked my childish vanit inaddei~ed. Oh ! I*ammond, will you not fore Will you not? will you not ?"' She clung to him as she cried. Her arms' wei about him, and her face was buried in 'his boso~ "Geraldine! Miss Foster 1"' said Hammoiu to rise. "Call me Geraldine; call me~ yours; forgive 24S 1W UARkY ON OTh~'ER ~t~ace- our so many eternity. ri Nettles yhadhe~. ie adjoin- md could rush out ~ere peo- ~as lying ly partly v herself est sense ~k to me, that yoii~ Gill that 'qud and ~' until I five nie? 'e ~~und I, trying me, and page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] I AS 'GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, 244 take me with you, Hammond! At this moment, I am yours only! I loved you only ~from the first !" ~Nettles winked to the prostrate man, and made certain motions which, strictly construed, might be supposed to mean, "Take h.er at her word, marry her on the spot ;" and the looks and signs of' Hendersn, now thoroughly cured of his passion, were equally significant to tHe same effect. But Hammond was superior to the temptation.' "Nay, Geraldine, you are deceived. I am in no dan- ger; indeed, I am unhurt." She started as if to rise, but he now restrained her, and, koking to his friends, motioned their departure. "What does this mean.?" she demanded. ~" Hear me patiently, Geraldine, and let me plead in turn for your forgiveness. ~t ~neans a foolish hoax, in ,which nobody ever dreamed that you would be a party. I am unwounded, :and the ~object has been simply to scare the foolish person who, without provocation, has sought my life." '~' Without. provocation, Mr. Hammond? Do you forget the cruel insult you put upon me? Was it no provocation .to shame a young maiden before all her friends and people? Oh, Hammond, how could you do me so~..-you, for ~hom. I showed but too much prefer- ence from the beginning, in spite' of all that my ~mother would say ?" ~" Will you suffer me to repent, Geral'dinQ.-~o make amends ?" And, by this time; the arm of the leader was rotjnd about her waist, and his lips were pressed npqn hers, and alone in that haunted ~wood, famous for its' many murders, the. twO were .belrothed with all the dearest'promises of love., We need not follow the pro- gre~s ~of. the scene. Enough t~. say that the persons whom Ba1rry and his friend, from 2Tennessee encountered in the ~buggy, were Mr. and 'Mrs. Hammond~ They had been filly' three months married, and were living very cofrifo~tably' together at the residence of 11am- mond's mother; while Mrs. Foster, vexed to the heart, was chewing the cud of disappointment at the "Lodge" THE TENNESSEEAN' S STORY. 245 alon& All these facts were gathered from~ Torn Net- tles, who very frankly declared his agency ~n the pro- ceedings. "I'm blowed," said the Tennesseean, "if I was Barry, if I wouldn't have, a real fight~ on the' strength of it, and I'd make you my mark, my man." But Barry himself shook his head. "I've had enough of killing," said he. "I can. ~put you in the way of something better,," 8aid Nettles.' "Folly E'wbanks. is still alive, single, and fat as ever; Sukey Pavy still' keeps the bar at 'the old man's cOrner; and' Mrs. Fosterlooks as well as I have eyer seen her, and 'keeps. a most excellent table. I'm will~rig to make amends; Joiies, for' what harm I"re done you, by doing you finally 'for better or 'worse.' Now, 'if there's a man to manage either of these three pre.tty~ pieces of mortality, I'm' tLai~ person. Shall it be 'hack to back, Mjss' ]?olly.-~-'" "Hush,' you Satan' !'-" "Or, 'Is it to your liking, sir'?' " Devil !" "Or, 'Is it more. of the honey or more of the 'peach, dear 1Jh'~ Barry?'"' The Tennesseean lingered a week among, his. new friends, and became so much enamored of Nettles that he asked him home with him. But the latter, born for the use of his neighbors, had a eommission~in hand 'for Barry that was somewhat urgently pressed. His hints ~had not been' wholly thrown away~. and Barry, among his latter-day reveries, was frequently and pleasurably entertained by the recollection of tha~t ou~ of tea~' and that bowl of toddy, by which the widow Foster had re~ freshed him in the'little baok room of her domicik He remembered her round, well;proportior~edi figure, the sw~ect. smile upon her face, the pleasant' sparkle in her eye, and the grateful beverag~ in her hand;~ and 'he so earnestly pressed his ruminations and convictions on hi~ friend Nettles, that the latter posted off one pleasant afternoon to the "Lodge," and did not return home 21* page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 As *QOD AS A COMEDY: 011, ~unti ~the nest day. He was; as usual, received ia~ the kindest ni~nner. by the widow.. He had always been solicitous of her favor, on the score of his just apprecia- tion of her'dinners and eVening, p~irti&s. If Nettles had ~ Wea~kne8S at all, it lay in. his passion for the creature comforts. He had always~ taken care to please her accordingly, and she was always glad to welcome him. He was a good eoinp~anion, who picked up all the scandal going, and was. ever ready for any mischief. We~will suppose that, when the hour came foir the evening meal, he found ~nd ~enjoyed a delightful supper. The widow was unusually 'fresh ami attractive.. She had stolen off soon after his arrival, leaving him to adjust ihis six-feet upon the sofa, while she consulted her toilet.' She re- ~turned. ju~st as he 'was emerging from his 8iesta, looking 1ike~ Cleopatra, except that 'her dimensions were not so great, ~her skin: so dark, nor 'her 'jewels quite so magni- ficent as those of that famous queen of Egypt.. "Really, Mrs. Foster, you grow younger and more fascinating ever5r time I see you."' These gallant words accompanied a graceful taking and s~n&eiing of the fair 'l&dy's hand. "' There is one thing, however, which I think faulty about you." "Faulty 1" in ~onsternation. "Yes, faulty I 'and ',the fault is in, your mind, your 'feelings, ~your thoughtss, your 'sentiments." 'A'1nd~ed, Mr. 'Nettles V' bewildered. "' Yes; 'madam! it consists in your contentment; in' that cold disdain oi' humanity~; in that scornful indiffer- ence~~to my sexy which makes you willing to sacri~ce. this ~youtE, this bloom, this beauty-nay, you know I never flatter b-I say, to sacrifice all these possessions in secln- skkn,~itiiout sl~ring them with that most precious of all lx~av~nly ~ifts,' a' husband." "Really, Mr. Nettles, you have a most elevated opinion of the ivdue and usefulness of your sex." K i'~'Not~ mQ~O than 'the really wise of. your sex have been alway$~ pleased to entertain, You remember it was the THE TENNESSEBAN 'S STORY. 24T foolisk virgins thut were unprepared at the coming, of the bridegroom." "Yes, sir! but 'even were I to allow that, there is still another difficulty. The' bridegroom does not happen ~so frequently in a~ widow's chances that she can change her solitary condition when she pleases; and, unless there is a prospect Df his coming, what's the- policy of her admitting that she finds her solitude unpleasant?" "Mrs. Foster, many a man would WOO if the lady would only coo; but men, you are aware, are naturally modest." "Oh, Mr. Nettles!" "They are, madam! they are! It is the woman al- ways that is' the tempter, and naturally enough. If we put a very high estimate on her value, we are apt to. feel that 'we fall ~below it, and we approach her rather with a sense of her superior, merits and position than of our passion, though it may burn us up all the while. Now, a case happens at this moment to my knowledge, and I must say that' you are interested in it.". "Me,'sir!" "Yes, Mrs. Foster, you! I know a gentleman who feels for you a' most profound passion, but who dares riot- "Nay, Mr. Nettles! what have you ever seen about me that should repel or discourage any gentleman ?" and the lady smoothed down the folds of her dress, and, smiling sweetly, inclined somewhat to the speaker. "The beautiful crocodile !" thought ~Nettles, to him- 'self; " she evidently suspects me of being %this bashful* gentleman. What ~a harpy !" But, though thus thinking, he never~suffered his eyes to breathe any but an expressionn of tender interest and regard~ Still, fearing that she might assume too much, as Nettles never deceived himself in" the opinion tha't he was a very personableinan. and likely to prove quite too attractive for most women, he hurried'forward ;t~ a full revelation of his object, and of the' person in whose be- half he came. He had his own way of doing this. page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR~ THE TENNESSEEAN' S STORY. 249 "Mrs. Foster," said he, gravely, "you have certainly shown yourself to be the most remarkable of women. I have seen 'you. for six months working busily to procure for another the devotion which was all the while over- flowing £er yourself." "Really, Mr. Nettles, you speak pa~ables. What are you driving at ?" "Let me explain. ~ou 'will do me the justice to admit that if anybody knows the people of this county, man woman, hoyden and hobby-de-hoy, 'i~ is myself." "Granted, sir!" '~ "Some of these have been accustomed to consult me '~ in the most important matters. Among these persons is my friend Jones Barry. You partially took him out of ~my hands, but you played your hands badly. You perversely tried to persuade him that he was desperately in love with Miss Geraldine-~" "Don't speak of that young lady in my hearing, I beg you, Mr. Nettles !" "Pardon me; but I can't. help it; it's necessary to what I've .got to 'say. But I'll not 'dwell upon it. Well, a~ I tell you, at the very time that you were doing your best, against nature and yourself, to force this belief 'into biB heart, the 'poor fellow was devotedly attached to an.- 'other." "'Indeed! You surprise me, sir." "Such wa~ your powerful influence& over him, that 'you could persuade him to 'anything; and, yielding to your seeming wishes and opinions, he 'professed attach- ment to your step-daughter, while his heart was all the time ready to burst with a; passion for yourself." "For me, sir? Jones Barry fond of me "To devotion-ito distraction; and how you 'could be so blind. as not to have seen it, passes my iii~agination. How soften has he consulted witk me on this very' sub- ject!' How oftenha~e I told him, C Come out hue' a man, 'and tell her what you feel!' His' only answer was: 'No! "She doesn't think of me. ft's evident she thinks only of the marriage of *Geraldine. She will never 'marry again. Her heart's in the grave with Foster!' Then he would weep, and say: 'I must marry Geraldine, if it's only to be near to her!"' "Poor Jones! and how he concealed it!"' "Concealed it? No, madam, it was only from 7/0U7 eyes that he concealed it. It Wasn't his art in hiding; * it was your blindness in' not seeing. Why, the night of the fete, he said to me that, when you fed him with tea from the cup, while he satinn a chair in your little back- room, he thought he should overflow with delight, and the next day, when you mixed him some peach toddy, he said, 'coming from your hands, it was the most delicious dram that ever his lips had tasted.'" "Dear Jones, and he felt all this?"' "All this, and was silent!" "And I was doing n~iy best 'to force him upon ~one who didn't care a straw for him." "Suicidally, as I called it; for, aslsaid to him, you are evidently made. for' each other." "You said that, Mr. Nettles? Ah! you're a sharp~ sighted person." "Says I,," Barry! Foster is young and lovable. She's scarcely older tha r step-daughter. She's un- selfish. She sees that you are the man to make G~ral- dine happy, because she, feels that you would make her- self so; and she ought~ not to be permitted to sacrifice herself. Go to her, tell her the truth, lay your whole heart open to her, and my life on it, she will then dis- cover what, perhaps, she does not yet see, that you have taken a deeper hold on her own heart than she has, any idea. At her, like a man ~ and,' if she be the tender-hearted woman that I think her, she will not~ reject you.'" The widow sighed deeply. "But he did not 'follow your counsel?" "He 'did not believe me. His fears ~bhin4ed him. He worshipped, you too devotedly. Had he felt, a weaker passion, he would have been more bqld. But his heart failed him, and he would have 'suffered himself to~ be page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] THD~ TENYES5EEAN'S STORY. 251 250 AS GOOD AS A COMEDY: OR, srhot; nay, don't I know that* he weiat out fully expect~ ing to be killed by Hammond's bullet, even hoping it, that he might no longer be kept in such miserable anxiety ?" "Poor, poor fellow!" "And now, that he knows my object in coming here, he is onthorns of misery. His, horse is already saddled. iTh li&s~raised all ~the ready money he can, and, the mo- ment he gets my report, if it's unfavorable, he'll set off to join his fat'friend in Tennessee. He will sell out, and leave Georgia forever. He even talks of joining the regular army, hoping to be killed in the first engage- ment." "But he' must never do 'it." "It will depend on you. He is at' my house waiting. I have agr~edithat, if I am successful, I am t6 wave a white handkerchief, and if not, a red one, just as I get in the avenue. His mind's in a most awful state, and it'd for you, my dear Mrs. Foster, to' determine his fate." "Oh! Mr. Kettles, you see ~oo deeply into the hearts of us poor women to doubt what must 'be 'my answer. Poor, dear Barry, I always was fond of him. But I never thought he had any feeling for me, and so I tried 'only to get for' him' that disobedient girl." "What blindness! And so "'Oh !' you do with me what you please, Mr. Nettles. It's a wonder' you never married yourself. You're single only because you never wished to be otherwise." "' Ah! you flatter me, Foster! But I must ,resign my hopes and wishes to ethers. I live for myfriends only. But, in giving. them up, I have' my consolation; and when carrying off the heart of a lady to.~nothcr, I am privileged, as a matter of course; to take her ~kisses fom' myself.~" The' widow 'did not struggle seriously against the spoliation"~which followed this pretty speech. Barry will be the happiest man alive." "But have you' a white handkerchief with you? I see that you use4a red one," demanded the provident widow. "Indeed I have not !" said Nettles, feeling in. his pockets, and looking disquieted. "Take mine, dear Mr. Nettles. Poor Barry, he must not be suffered to throw himself away !" * How Nettles chuckled as he left the "Lodge !" In 'less than a month, the widow became Mrs. Barry. We have no reason to suppose that her husband repented the proceeding, and we know that Nettles did not. He usually took his Sunday dinner at the "Lodge," and was master of ceremonies on all occasions. He himself never married. Why should he, when he could so easily persuade his friends to do so? Miles Henderson, in the course of the year, was caught by Henrietta Bailey, one of the girls of whom Mrs. Hammond thought so much; and he lived sufficiently happy with her to feel no repinings at the sweet and singular affection which existed between Hammond and his wife. lie, it is true, remained the master, but she exercised, though she did not assert, all the authority of the mistress.' There has been no duel at "Pistol Quarter" since the famous affair that terminated the tragic part of our comedy. THE END. 9
