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Bird, Robert Montgomery, 1806-1854 [1836], Sheppard Lee, volume 1 (Harper & Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf016v1].
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Front matter Covers, Edges and Spine

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Preliminaries

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Title Page [figure description] Title-page.[end figure description]

SHEPPARD LEE.

“Let these shine now that never shone before,
And those that always shone now shine the more.”
Advertisement to Hunt's Blacking.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
NEW-YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, CLIFF-ST.
1836.

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[Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1836, by
Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District
of New-York.]

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CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

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The Author's Preface—which the reader, if in a hurry, or if it be
his practice to read against time, can omit...Page 5

The birth and family of Sheppard Lee, with some account of his
temper and complexion of mind... 7

The pleasures of having nothing to do.—Some thoughts on
matrimony...12

How to conduct a farm to the best advantage, and steer clear of
the lawyers... 18

The Author finds himself in trouble.—Some account of his servant,
honest James Jumble... 21

Sheppard Lee experiences his share of the respect that is accorded
to “honest poverty.”—His ingenious and highly original
devices to amend his fortune... 26

The Author becomes a Politician, and seeks for an office.—The
result of that project... 30

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A description of the Owl-roost, with Mr. Jumble's ideas in relation
to Captain Kid's money... Page 32

Sheppard Lee stumbles upon a happy man, and quarrels with
him... 38

Sheppard Lee has an extraordinary dream, which promises to be
more advantageous than any of his previous ones. 42

In which the reader is introduced to a personage who may claim
his acquaintance hereafter... 47

Sheppard Lee visits the village, makes a patriotic speech, and
leaves the fence... 50

What befell the Author on his way to the Owl-roost. 55

Sheppard Lee digs for the buried treasure, and makes a blow with
the mattock in the wrong place... 58

In which Sheppard Lee finds himself in a quandary, which the
reader will allow to be the most wonderful and lamentable ever
known to a human being... 60

Sheppard Lee finds comfort when he least expects it.—The extraordinary
close of the catastrophe... 65

A natural mistake, which, although it procures the Author a rough
reception at his own house, has yet the good, effect to teach
him the propriety of adapting his manners to his condition 69

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BOOK II. CONTAINING SUNDEY ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE ADVANTAGES OF GOOD LIVING, WITH A FEW CHAPTERS ON DOMESTIC FELICITY.

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Some passages in the life of John H. Higginson, Esq., the happy
sportsman, with a surprising affliction that befell the Author Page 72

The Author, being in prison, makes a confidant of a deputy attorney-general.—
The inconvenience of telling a truth which
happens to be somewhat incredible... 79

Sheppard Lee is visited by new friends, released from prison, and
carried to his new place of abode... 85

Containing illustrations of the advantages of dying an unusual
death in times of high political excitement... 90

The true meaning of the word Podagra... 94

Sheppard Lee's introduction to his wife, and his suspicion that all
is not gold that glistens... 100

A comparison between dunning and scolding, with some thoughts
on suicide... 106

Sheppard Lee forms sundry acquaintances, some of which are
genteel... 111

The Author grows weary of his wife, and mistakes the river
Schuylkill for the river Lethe.—The tragical adventure that befell
a young gentleman in that romantic tide, with its effects
upon the destinies of Sheppard Lee... 120

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The inconveniences of being drowned.—The first chapter of the
history of I. D. Dawkins, Esq.... Page 127

A conversation betwixt the Author and his bosom friend, John
Tickle, Esq.... 131

In which Sheppard Lee is prepared for the brilliant destiny that
awaits him... 137

In which Sheppard Lee has an interview with a lady, who tells
him a secret... 142

An inventory of a young gentleman's effects, with some account
of Mr. Sniggles, his landlord... 147

Sheppard Lee hears news of his uncle, and Mr. Sniggles is
brought to his senses... 153

In which Sheppard Lee is told his history... 157

A conversation with a tailor.—Sheppard Lee finds himself in a
situation truly appalling... 164

The Author receives a visit from his uncle, Samuel Wilkins, Esq.,
and is relieved from his tormentors... 170

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Some account of Sheppard Lee's country kinsmen Page 174

Containing a morsel of metaphysics, with a short account of the
Author's experience in good society... 178

Sheppard Lee makes the acquaintance of his cousin, Miss Pattie
Wilkins... 183

A farther account of Miss Pattie Wilkins... 190

A short chapter, containing an account of the Author's cousin,
Samuel Wilkins, Jr.... 195

In which Sheppard Lee visits Mr. Periwinkle Smith and his fair
daughter, and is intrusted with a secret which both astonishes
and afflicts him... 198

Containing much instructive matter in relation to good society,
whereby the ambitious reader can determine what are his prospects
of entering it... 204

In which Sheppard Lee relates the passion he conceived for his
fair cousin, and his engagement to elope with her. 212

In which Sheppard Lee recounts an engagement of a similar nature
which he formed with the fair Alicia.. 217

The ingenious devices with which Sheppard Lee prepared the
way for his elopement... 226

The guests that Sheppard Lee invited to his wedding. 233

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Containing a dialogue, or curious conversation with nothing;
with a discovery extremely astonishing to several persons Page 236

In which Sheppard Lee finds that he has made the fortune of his
friends, without having greatly advantaged his own. 242

A crisis.—Sheppard Lee is reduced to great extremities, and
takes refuge in the house of mourning... 247

What happened in the dead-chamber.—The dirge of a wealthy
parent... 249


The private history of Abram Skinner, the shaver. 256

Sheppard Lee's first hit at money-making... 262

Reflections on stock-jobbing and other matters.. 269

Main text

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p016-014 SHEPPARD LEE. BOOK I. CONTAINING INSTRUCTIONS HOW TO SPEND AND HOW TO RETRIEVE A FORTUNE.

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CHAPTER I. The Author's Preface, —which the reader, if in a great hurry, or if it be his practice to read against time, can skip.

I have often debated in my mind whether I
should give to the world, or for ever lock up within
the secrecy of my own breast, the history of the
adventures which it has been my lot in life to experience.
The importance of any single individual
in society, especially one so isolated as myself, is
so little, that it can scarcely be supposed that the
community at large can be affected by his fortunes,
either good or evil, or interested in any way in
his fate. Yet it sometimes happens that circumstances
conspire to elevate the humblest person
from obscurity, and to give the whole world an
interest in his affairs; and that man may safely
consider himself of some value in his generation,
whose history is of a character to instruct the ignorant
and inexperienced. Such a man I consider

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myself to be; and the more I reflect upon my past
life, the more I am convinced it contains a lesson
which may be studied with profit; while, at the
same time, if I am not greatly mistaken, the lesson
will be found neither dry nor repulsive, but here
and there, on the contrary, quite diverting. The
psychologist (I hate big words, but one cannot do
without them) and the metaphysician will discover
in my relation some new subjects for reflection;
and so perhaps will the doctor of medicine and
the physiologist: but while I leave these learned
gentlemen to discuss what may appear most wonderful
in my revealments, I am most anxious that
the common reader may weigh the value of what
is, at least in appearance, more natural, simple, and
comprehensible.

It will be perceived that many of the following
adventures are of a truly extraordinary character.
There are some men—and to such my story will
seem incredible enough—who pride themselves on
believing nothing that they do not know, and who
endeavour, very absurdly, to restrict the objects of
belief to those that admit of personal cognizance.
There are others again who boast the same maxim,
but have a more liberal understanding of the subjects
of knowledge, and permit themselves to believe
many things which are susceptible of satisfactory
proof, but not of direct cognition. Now
I must declare beforehand, in order to avoid all
trouble, that, from the very nature of the life I
have led, consisting of the strangest transitions and

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vicissitudes, it is impossible I should have laid up
proofs to satisfy any one of the truth of my relation
who is disposed to be incredulous. If any
one should say, “I doubt,” all the answer I could
make would be, “Doubt, and be hanged,”—not,
however, meaning any offence to anybody; though
it is natural one should be displeased at having his
veracity questioned. I write for the world at large,
which is neither philosophic nor skeptical; and the
world will believe me: otherwise it is a less sensible
world than I have all along supposed it to be.

CHAPTER II. The birth and family of Sheppard Lee, with some account of his temper and complexion of mind.

I was born somewhere towards the close of the
last century,—but, the register-leaf having been
torn from the family Bible, and no one remaining
who can give me information on the point, I am
not certain as to the exact year,—in the State of
New-Jersey, in one of the oldest counties that
border upon the Delaware river. My father was
a farmer in very good circumstances, respectable
in his degree, but perhaps more famous for the
excellent sausages he used to manufacture for the
Philadelphia market, than for any quality of mind or
body that can distinguish one man from his fellows.

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Taking the hint from his success in this article of
produce, he gradually converted his whole estate
into a market-farm, raising fine fruits and vegetables,
and such other articles as are most in demand
in a city; in which enterprise he succeeded beyond
his highest expectations, and bade fair to be,
as in the end he became, a rich man. The only
obstacle to a speedy accumulation of riches was a
disproportionate increase in the agents of consumption,—
his children multiplying on his hands almost
as fast as his acres, until he could count eleven in
all; a number that filled him at one time with
consternation. He used to declare no apple could
be expected to ripen on a farm where there were
eleven children; and as for watermelons and sugar-corn,
it was folly to think of raising them longer.
But fate sent my father relief sooner and
more effectually than he either expected or desired:
nine of the eleven being removed by death in a
space of time short of six years. Three (two of
whom were twin sisters) were translated in the
natural way, falling victims to an epidemic, and
were buried in the same grave. A fourth was
soon after killed by falling out of an apple-tree.
My eldest brother, then a boy of fourteen years
old, upon some freak, ran away from home (for he
was of a wild, madcap turn), and, getting into an
oyster-boat, made a voyage into the bay, where
he was lost; for, having fallen overboard, and not
being able to swim, a clumsy fellow, who thought
to save him in that way, clutched him round the

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neck with a pair of oyster-tongs, and thereby strangled
him. Two others were drowned in a millpond,
where they were scraping for snapping-turtles.
Another, who was the wag of the family,
was killed by attempting to ride a pig, which, running
in great alarm through a broken fence into
the orchard, dashed his brains out against a whiteoak
rail; and the ninth died of a sort of hysterical
affection, caused by this unlucky exploit of his
brother; for he could not cease laughing at it, notwithstanding
its melancholy termination, and he
died of the fit within twenty-four hours.

Thus, in a few years, there remained but two of
all the eleven children,—to wit, my oldest sister
Prudence and myself. My mother (from whom I
had my Christian name Sheppard, that being her
maiden name) died several years before this last
catastrophe, her mind having been affected, and
indeed distracted, by so many mournful losses occurring
in such rapid succession. She fell into a
deep melancholy, and died insane.

Being one of the youngest children, I grieved
but little for the loss of my brothers and sisters;
nor was I able to appreciate the advantage which,
in a worldly point of view, their death must prove
to me. My father, however, perceived the difference;
for, having now so few to look after and
be chargeable to him, he could with great propriety
consider himself a rich man. He immediately
resolved, as I was now his only son, that I
should have a good education; and it was not his

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fault if, in this particular, I fell short of his expectations.
I was sent to good schools, and, in
course of time, was removed to the college at
Nassau Hall, in Princeton, where I remained during
three years; that is, until my father's decease;
when I yielded to the natural indolence
of my temper, and left the college, or rather (for
I had formed no resolution on the subject) procrastinated
my return from day to day, until it was too
late to return.

My natural disposition was placid and easy,—I
believe I may say sluggish. I was not wanting in
parts, but had as little energy or activity of mind as
ever fell to the share of a Jerseyman; and how my
father ever came to believe I should make a figure
in the world, I cannot conceive, unless it was because
he knew he had a fortune to leave me, and
saw me safely lodged in a college. It is very certain
he encouraged a strong belief that I should
one day be a great man; and, I fancy, it was for
this reason he showed himself so favourable to me
in his will. He left me the bulk of his property,
bestowing upon my sister, who had recently married,
little beyond a farm which he had purchased
in a neighbouring county, but which was a valuable
one, and quite satisfied her husband.

But my father was a better judge of sausages
than of human character. Besides being deficient,
as I humbly confess, in all those qualities that are
necessary to the formation of a great man, I had
not the slightest desire to be one. Ambition was

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a passion that never afflicted my mind; and I was
so indifferent to the game of greatness which was
playing around me, that, I seriously declare, there
was a President of the United States elected to
office, and turned out again, after having served
his regular term, without my knowing any thing
about it. I had not even the desire, so common
to young men who find themselves in possession
of a fortune, to launch out into elegant expenses,
to dash about the country with fine horses, servants,
and clothes, and to play the spendthrift in
cities. On the contrary, I no sooner found myself
arrived at my majority, which was a few
months after my father's death, than I sat down
very quietly on the farm, resolved to take the
world easily; which I supposed I might easily do.
I had some idea of continuing to conduct the estate,
as my father had done before me; but it was a
very vague one; and having made one or two
efforts to bear myself like a man of business,
I soon found the effort was too tiresome for one
of my disposition; and I accordingly hired an
overseer to manage the property for me.

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p016-021 CHAPTER III. The pleasures of having nothing to do. —Some thoughts on Matrimony.

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Having thus shuffled the cares of business from
my shoulders to another's, my time began to
weigh a little heavily on my hands, and I cast
about for some amusement that might enable me
to get rid of it. As there was great abundance of
small game, such as quails, partridges, and rabbits,
in the neighbourhood, I resolved to turn
sportman; and, in consequence, I bought me a
dog and gun, and began to harry the country with
some spirit. But having the misfortune to shoot
my dog the first day, and, soon after, a very valuable
imported cow, belonging to a neighbour, for
which I was obliged to pay him enormous damages,
and meeting besides with but little luck, I
grew disgusted with the diversion. My last shot
was soon fired; for, having forgotten the provisions
of our game-laws, I killed a woodcock
too early in the summer, for which, on the information
of a fellow who owed me a grudge, I was
prosecuted, although it was the only bird I ever
killed in all my life, and soundly fined; and this
incensed me so much, that I resolved to have
nothing more to do with an amusement that cost

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so much money, and threw me into so many difficulties.

I was then at a loss how to pass my time, until
a neighbour, who bred fine horses, persuaded me
to buy a pair of blooded colts, and try my luck on
the turf; and this employment, though rather too
full of cares and troubles to suit me exactly, I
followed with no little spirit, and became more
proud of my horses than I can well express, until
I came to try them on the race-course, where it
was my luck, what with stakes and betting together,
to lose more money in a single day, than
my father had ever made in two years together.
I then saw very clearly that horse-racing was
nothing better than gambling, and therefore both
disreputable and demoralizing; for which reason I
instantly gave it up, heartily sick of the losses it
had occasioned me.

My overseer, or steward,—for such he may be
considered,—whom I always esteemed a very sensible
fellow, for he was shrewd and energetic, and
at least ten years my senior, then advised me, as I
was a young man, with money enough, to travel a
little, and see the world: and accordingly I went
to New-York, where I was robbed of my luggage
and money by a villain whose acquaintance I made
in the steamboat, and whom I thought a highly
intelligent, gentlemanly personage; though, as it
afterward appeared, he was a professor from Sing-Sing,
where he had been sawing stone for two
years, the governor of New-York having forgiven

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him, as is the custom, the five other years for
which he was committed for, I believe, a fraud
committed on his own father.

This loss drove me home again; but being reencouraged
by my overseer, I filled my purse and
set out a second time, passing up the Hudson
river, with which I was prodigiously pleased,
though not with the Overslaugh, where we stuck
fast during six hours. I then proceeded to Saratoga,
where I remained for two weeks, on account
of its being fashionable; but, I declare to Heaven,
I was never so tired of any place in my life. I
then went to Niagara, which, in spite of the great
noise it made, I thought the finest place in the
world; and there, I think, I should have continued
all summer, had it not been for the crowds of tiresome
people that were eternally coming and going,
and the great labour of climbing up and down the
stairs. However, I was so greatly pleased with
what I saw, both at Niagara and along the way,
that I should have repeated my travels in after
years, as the most agreeable way of passing time,
had it not been for the dangers and miseries of
such enterprises; for, first, the coaches were perpetually
falling over, or sticking in the mud, or jolting
over stones, so that one had no security of life
or limb; and, secondly, the accommodations at
the inns along the road were not to my liking, the
food being cooked after the primitive systems of
Shem, Ham, and Japheth, and the beds stuck together
in the rooms as if for boys at a

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boardingschool. It is possible that these things are better
ordered now; but, from what I have since seen
and heard, I am of opinion there is a fine field for
cooks, carpenters, and chamber-maids, in the agricultural
regions of America. In those days I loved
ease and comfort too well to submit to such evils
as could be avoided; and, accordingly, after a little
experience in the matter, I ceased travelling altogether,
the pleasures bearing no sort of proportion
to the discomforts.

My time still weighing upon my hands, I was
possessed with a sudden idea (which my steward,
however, endeavoured to combat), namely,
that the tedium of my existence might be dispelled
by matrimony; and I resolved to look around me
for a wife. After much casting about, I fixed my
eyes upon a young lady of the village (for I must
inform the reader that my farm was on the skirts
of a village, and a very respectable one too, although
there were many lazy people in it), who, I
thought, was well fitted to make me comfortable;
and as she did not seem averse to my first advances,
I began to be quite particular, until all the old
women in the country declared it was a match,
and all the young fellows of my own age, as well
as all the girls I knew, became extremely witty
at my expense. These things, however, rather
encouraged me than otherwise; I believed I was
advancing my happiness by the change I contemplated
in my condition; and I was just on the
point of making formal proposals to the young

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lady, when an accident set me to considering the
enterprise entirely in a new light.

My charmer lived in the house of a married sister,
who had a large family of children,—a pack of the
most ill-bred imps, I verily believe, that were ever
gathered together in any one man's house; but, for
politeness' sake, during the first weeks of my courtship,
the young sinners were kept out of my way,
and, what with cuffing and feeding with sugarplums,
were preserved in some sort of order, so
that I was not annoyed by them. After a while,
however, and when matters had proceeded some
length, it was thought unnecessary to treat me
longer as a stranger; the children were suffered
to take care of themselves; and the consequence
was, that, in a short time, I found myself in a kind
of Pandemonium whenever I entered the house,
with such a whining, and squeaking, and tumbling,
and bawling, and fighting among the young ones,
as greatly discomposed my nerves; and, to make
the matter worse, the mother made no difficulty at
times, when the squabbling grew to a height, of
taking a switch to one, and boxing the ears of
another, and scolding roundly at a third, to reduce
them to order; and all this in my presence, and
under the nose of my charmer.

I began to fancy the married life could not be
altogether so agreeable as I had pictured it to my
imagination; and in this belief I was confirmed
by a visit to my sister, who had three children of
her own, all of whom, as I now perceived (for I

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had not noticed it before, having no particular
inducement to make me observant), were given to
squabbling and bawling, just like other children,
while my sister did her share of boxing and scolding.
I thought to myself, “What should I do
with a dozen children squeaking all day and night
in my house, and a scolding wife dragooning them
into submission?”

The thought disconcerted me, and the fear of
such a consummation greatly chilled the ardour of
my affection; so that the young lady, observing
my backwardness, and taking offence at it, cast
her eyes upon another wooer who had made her
an offer, and, to my great satisfaction, married him
on the spot.

I was never more relieved in my life, and I resolved
to reflect longer upon the subject before
making advances of that nature a second time.
My overseer, who had from the first (for I made
him my confidant) been opposed to the match, on
the ground that I ought to enjoy my liberty, at
least until I was thirty, was greatly rejoiced at
the rupture, and swore that I had made a lucky
escape; for he had always thought, in his own
mind, that the lady was at bottom, though she
concealed it from me, a Tartar and fire-eater. In
this, however, he was mistaken; for, from all I
have heard of her since, she has proved a most
amiable and sweet-tempered woman, and her husband
is said to be very happy with her.

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p016-027 CHAPTER IV. How to conduct a farm to the best advantage, and steer clear of the lawyers.

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It is not my intention to dwell longer upon the
history of this period of my life, nor to recount in
detail how my easy and indolent temper at last
proved the ruin of me. I gave myself up to
laziness, neglecting my affairs to such a degree
that they soon became seriously entangled; and,
to make a long story short, I found myself, before
I had completed my twenty-eighth year, reduced
from independence, and almost affluence, to a
condition bordering upon actual poverty. My
farm, under the management of Mr. Aikin Jones
(for that was my steward's name), went gradually
to ruin; my orchards rotted away, without being
replanted; my meadows were converted into
swamps; my corn-fields filled with gullies; my
improvements fell into decay; and my receipts
began to run short of my expenses. Then came
borrowing and mortgaging, and, by-and-by, the
sale of this piece of land to remove the encumbrance
upon that; until I suddenly found myself
in the condition of my father when he began the
world; that is to say, the master of a little farm
of forty acres,—the centre and nucleus of the
fifteen hundred which he had got possession of

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and bequeathed to me, but which had so soon
slipped through my fingers. There was this difference,
however, between us; the land, when my
father obtained it, was in good condition; it was
now (so well had it prospered under Jones's hands)
entirely worn out and empoverished, and not worth
a fourth part of its original value.

To add to my chagrin, I discovered that Mr.
Aikin Jones, whom I had treated rather as a
friend than servant, had abused my confidence;
in other words, that he was a rogue and villain,
who had taken advantage of my disinclination to
business, and my ignorance, as I believe I must
call it, to swindle me out of my property, which
he had the best opportunities to do. Whether he
effected his purpose by employing my own funds
or not, I cannot say; but, it is very certain, all the
different mortgages in which I was entangled
came, some how or other, by hook and by crook,
into his hands, and he took care to make the best
use of them. In a word, Mr. Jones became a rich
man, and I a poor one; and I had the satisfaction,
every day when I took a walk over my forty-acre
farm, as the place was familiarly called, though the
true name was Watermelon Hill, to find myself
stopped, which way soever I directed my steps, by
the possessions of Mr. Aikin Jones, my old friend
and overseer, whom I often saw roll by in his carriage,
while I was trudging along through the mud.

At the same time that I met with this heavy
misfortune, I had to endure others that were

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vexatious enough. My brother-in-law and sister had
their suspicions of Mr. Jones, and often cautioned
me against him, though in vain,—not that I had
any very superstitious reliance on the gentleman's
integrity, but because I could not endure the trouble
of examining into his proceedings and accounts,
and chose therefore to believe him honest. This,
and my general indolence and indifference to my affairs,
incensed them both to that degree, that my sister
did not scruple to tell me to my face that I had
lost all the little sense I ever possessed; while my
brother-in-law took the freedom of saying of me in
public, “that I was wrong in the upper story,”—in
other words, that I was mad; and he had the insolence
to hint “that it ran in my blood,—that I had
inherited it from my mother,” she, as I mentioned
before, having lost her mind before her decease. I
was so much irritated by these insults on their part,
that I quarrelled with them both, though by no
means of a testy or choleric disposition; and it
was many years before we were reconciled. Having
therefore neither friends nor family, I was left
to bear my misfortunes alone; which was a great
aggravation of them all.

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p016-030 CHAPTER V. The Author finds himself in trouble. —Some account of his Servant, honest James Jumble.

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I have always described myself as of an easy,
contented disposition; and such I was born. But
misfortune produces sad changes in our tempers,
as it was soon my lot to experience. Before, however,
I describe the change that took place in mine,
it is fit I should let the reader understand to what
condition I was reduced by the perfidy of Jones,—
or, as I should rather say, by my own culpable
neglect of my affairs.

My whole landed possessions consisted of a farm
of forty acres, which I had, after the fashion of
some of my richer neighbours in other states, suffered
to fall into the most wretched condition imaginable.
My meadow-lands, being broken in upon
by the river, and neglected, were converted into
quagmires, reed-brakes, and cat-tail patches, the
only use of which was to shelter wild-fowl and
mire cattle. However, my live-stock was scanty
enough, and the only sufferers were my neighbours,
whose cows easily made their way through
my fences, and stuck fast in the mud at their pleasure.
My fields were overgrown here with mullein
and St. John's-wort, and there with sand-burs and

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poke-berries. My orchards were in an equally
miserable condition,—the trees being old, rotten,
or worm-eaten, half of them torn down by the
winds, and the remainder fit for nothing but fire-wood.
My barn was almost roofless; and as for
a stable, I had so little occasion for one, that my
old negro-man Jim, of whom I shall have more to
say hereafter, or his wife Dinah, or both together,
thinking they could do nothing better with it, helped
the winds to tear it to pieces, especially in the
winter, when it formed a very convenient wood-pile.
My dwelling-house was also suffering from
decay. It was originally a small frame building;
but my father had added to it one portion after
another, until it became spacious; and the large
porches in front and on the rear, gave it quite a
genteel, janty air. But this it could not long
keep; the sun and rain gradually drove the white
paint from the exterior, and the damps getting inside,
the fine paper-hangings, pied and spotted,
peeled from the walls. The window-frames rotted,
and the glasses left them one after another; and
one day in a storm one half the front porch tumbled
down, and the remainder, which I propped up
as well as I could, had a mighty mean and poverty-stricken
appearance. The same high wind carried
away one of my chimneys, which, falling on a corner
of the roof, crushed that into the garret, and
left one whole gable-end in ruins.

It must not be supposed that my property presented
altogether this wretched appearance at
the moment of my losses. It was ir truth bad

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enough then; but I am now describing it as it appeared
some few years after, when my miseries
were accumulated in the greatest number, and I
was just as poor as I could be.

In all this period of trouble and vexation I
had but one friend, if. I dare call him such;
though I should have been glad half the time
to be rid of him. This was my negro-man
Jim, or Jim Jumble, as he was called, of whom
I spoke before,—an old fellow that had been a
slave of my father, and was left to me in his
will. He was a crabbed, self-willed old fellow,
whom I could never manage, but who would
have all things his own way, in spite of me. As
I had some scruples of conscience about holding
a slave, and thought him of no value whatever,
but, on the contrary, a great trouble, I resolved to
set him free, and accordingly mentioned my design
to him; when, to my surprise, he burst into
a passion, swore he would not be free, and told me
flatly I was his master, and I should take care of
him: and the absurd old fool ended by declaring,
if I made him a free man he would have the law
of me, “he would, by ge-hosh!”

I never could well understand the cause of his
extreme aversion to being made free; but I suppose,
having got the upper hand of me, and being wise
enough to perceive the difference between living,
on the one hand, a lazy life, without any care
whatever, as my slave, and, on the other, labouring
hard to obtain a precarious subsistence as a free
man, he was determined to stick by me to the last,

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whether I would or not. Some little affection for
me, as I had grown up from a boy, as it were, under
his own eye, was perhaps at the bottom of his
resolution; but if there were, it was of a strange
quality, as he did nothing but scold and grumble at
me all day long. I remember, in particular, that,
when the match I spoke of before was broken off,
and he had heard of it, he came to me in a great
passion, and insolently asked “what I meant by
courting a wife, who would be a good mistress to
him, and not marrying her?” and, on my condescending
to explain the reasons of my change of
mind, he told me plumply, “I had no more sense
than a nigger; for women was women, and children
children; and he was tired living so long in a
house with none but me and Massa Jones for company.”

I suppose it was old Jim's despair of my ever
marrying, that put him upon taking a wife himself;
for one day, not long after I was reduced to
the forty-acre farm, he brought home a great ugly
free negro-woman, named Dinah, whom he installed
into the kitchen without the least ceremony,
and without so much as even informing me of his
intention. Having observed her two or three times,
and seeing her at last come bouncing into the dinner-room
to wait on me, I asked her who she was,
and what she wanted; to which she answered,
“she was Jim's wife, and Jim had sent her in to
take care of me.”

It was in this way the old rascal used me. It
was in vain to complain; he gave me to

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understand in his own language, “He knew what was
what, and there was no possuming an old nigger
like him; and if I had made him overseer, instead
of Massa Jones, it would have been all the better
for me.”

And, in truth, I believe it would; for Jim would
never have cheated me, except on a small scale;
and if he had done no work himself, it is very
certain he would have made everybody else work;
for he was a hard master when he had anybody
under him.

I may here observe, and I will do the old fellow
the justice to confess, that I found him exceedingly
useful during all my difficulties. What labour
was bestowed upon the farm, was bestowed
almost altogether by him and his wife Dinah. It
is true he did just what he liked, and without consulting
me,—planting and harvesting, and even
selling what he raised, as if he were the master
and owner of all things, and laying out what money
he obtained by the sales, just as his own wisdom
prompted; and finding I could do nothing
better, I even let him have his own way; and it
was perhaps to my advantage that I did.

But I grew poorer and poorer, notwithstanding:
and at that period, which I shall ever be inclined to
consider as the true beginning of my eventful life,
I was reduced almost to the point of despair; for
my necessities had compelled me to mortgage the
few miserable acres I had left, and I saw nothing
but utter ruin staring me in the face.

-- 026 --

p016-035 CHAPTER VI. Sheppard Lee experiences his share of the respect that is accorded to “honest poverty. ”—His ingenious and highly original devices to amend his fortune.

[figure description] Page 026.[end figure description]

It may be asked, why I made no efforts to retrieve
my fortunes? I answer to that, that I made
many, but was so infatuated that I never once
thought of resorting to the most obvious, rational,
and only means; that is to say, of cultivating with
industry my forty acres, as my father had done before
me. This idea, so sluggish was my mind, or so
confused by its distresses, never once occurred to
me; or if it did, it presented so many dreary images,
and so long a prospect of dull and disagreeable labour,
that I had not the spirit to pursue it. The
little toil I was forced to endure—for my necessities
now compelled me at times to work with my own
hands—appeared to me intolerably irksome; and
I was glad to attempt any thing else that seemed
to promise me good luck, and did not require positive
labour.

The first plan of bettering my fortune that I conceived,
was to buy some chances in a lottery,
which I thought an easy way of making money;
as indeed it is, when a man can make any. I had
my trouble for my pains, with just as many blanks
as I had bought tickets; upon which I began to

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[figure description] Page 027.[end figure description]

see clearly that adventuring in a lottery was nothing
short of gambling, as it really is; and so I quitted
it.

I then resolved to imitate the example of a
neighbour, who had made a great sum of money
by buying and selling to advantage stock in a southern
gold-mining company; and being very sanguine
of success, I devoted all the money I could scrape
together to the purpose, and that so wisely, that a
second instalment being suddenly demanded, I had
nothing left to discharge it with, and no means of
raising any; the consequence of which was, that I
was forced to sell at the worst time in the world,
and retired from the concern with just one fifth the
sum I had invested in it. I saw then that I had
no talent for speculating, and I began to have my
doubts whether stock-jobbing was not just as clear
gambling as horse-racing and lottery speculation.

I tried some ten or a dozen other projects with
a view to better my condition; but, as I came off
with the same luck from all, I do not think it necessary
to mention them. I will, however, state,
as a proof how much my difficulties had changed
my mind on that subject, that one of them was of
a matrimonial character. My horror of squabbling
children and scolding wives melted away before
the prospect of sheriffs and executions; and there
being a rich widow in the neighbourhood, I bought
me a new coat, and made her a declaration. But it
was too late in the day for me, as I soon discovered;
for besides giving me a flat refusal, she made a

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[figure description] Page 028.[end figure description]

point of revealing the matter to all her acquaintance,
who did nothing but hold me up to ridicule.

I found that my affairs were falling into a desperate
condition; and not knowing what else to do,
I resolved to turn politician, with the hope of getting
some office or other that might afford me a
comfortable subsistence.

This was the maddest project that ever possessed
my brain; but it was some time before I came
to that conclusion. But, in truth, from having
been the easiest and calmest tempered man in the
world, I was now become the most restless and
discontented, and incapable of judging what was
wise and what foolish. I reflected one day, that
of my old school and college mates who were still
alive, there was not one who had not made some
advance in the world, while I had done nothing but
slip backwards. It was the same thing with dozens
of people whom I remembered as poor farmers'
boys, with none of the advantages I had possessed,
but who had outstripped me in the road to fortune,
some being now rich cultivators, some wealthy
manufacturers and merchants, while two or three
had got into the legislature, and were made much
of in the newspapers. One of my old companions
had emigrated to the Mississippi, where he was
now a cotton-planter, with a yearly revenue of
twenty or thirty thousand dollars; another had become
a great lawyer in an adjacent state; and a
third, whom I always thought a very shallow, ignorant
fellow, and who was as poor as a rat to boot,

-- 029 --

[figure description] Page 029.[end figure description]

had turned doctor, settled down in the village, and,
besides getting a great practice, had married the
richest and finest girl in all the county. There
was no end to the number of my old acquaintances
who had grown wealthy and distinguished;
and the more I thought of them, the more discontented
I became.

My dissatisfaction was increased by discovering
with what little respect I was held among these
happy people. The doctor used to treat me with
a jocular sort of familiarity, which I felt to be insulting;
the lawyer, who had eaten many a dinner
at my table, when I was able to invite him, began
to make me low bows, instead of shaking hands
with me; and the cotton-planter, who had been my
intimate friend at college, coming to the village on
a visit to his relations, stared me fiercely in the
face when I approached him, and with a lordly
“hum—ha!” asked me “Who the devil I might
be?” As for the others, they treated me with as
little consideration; and I began to perceive very
plainly that I had got into the criminal stage of
poverty, for all men were resolved to punish me.
It is no wonder that poverty is the father of crime,
since the poor man sees himself treated on all hands
as a culprit.

I had never before envied a man for enjoying
more consideration in the world than myself: but
the discovery that I was looked upon with contempt
filled me with a new subject for discontent. I envied
my richer neighbours not only for being rich,

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p016-039 [figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

but for being what they considered themselves, my
superiors in standing. I may truly say, I scarce
ever saw, in those days, a man with a good coat on
his back, without having a great desire to beat him.
But as I was a peaceable man, my anger never
betrayed me into violence.

CHAPTER VII. The Author becomes a Politician, and seeks for an office. —The result of that project.

My essay in politics was soon made. I spent a
whole week in finding out who were the principal
office-holders, candidates, and busybodies, both in
the state and the general governments; and which
were the principal parties; there being so many,
that an honest man might easily make a mistake
among them. Being satisfied on these points, I
chose the strongest party, on the principle that
the majority must always be right, and attended
the first public meeting that was held, where I
clapped my hands and applauded the speeches
with so much spirit, that I was taken notice of
and highly commended by several of the principal
leaders. In truth, I pleased them so well, that
they visited me at my house, and encouraged me
to take a more prominent part in the business of
politics; and this I did, for at the next meeting, I

-- 031 --

[figure description] Page 031.[end figure description]

got up and made a speech; but what it was about
I know no more than the man in the moon, otherwise
I would inform the reader. My only recollection
of it is, that there was great slashing at
the banks and aristocrats that ground the faces of
the poor; for I was on what our opponents called
the hurrah side, and these were the things we
talked about. I received uncommon applause;
and, in fact, there was such a shouting and clapping
of hands, that I was obliged to put an end to
my discourse sooner than I intended.

But I found myself in great favour with the
party, and being advised by the leaders, who considered
I had a talent that way, to set about converting
all I knew in the county who were not of
our party, and they hinting that I should certainly,
in case the county was gained (for our county
happened to be a little doubtful at that time), be
appointed to the postoffice in the village, I mounted
my old horse Julius Cesar, and set out with
greater zeal than I had ever shown in my life before.
I visited everybody that I knew, and a great
many that I did not know; and, wherever I went,
I held arguments, and made speeches, with a
degree of industry that surprised myself, for certainly
I was never industrious before. It is certain,
also, that there was never a labourer in the
field of politics that better deserved his reward,—
never a soldier of the party ranks that had won a
better right to a share in the spoils of victory. I
do not pretend to say, indeed, that I converted

-- 032 --

p016-041 [figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

anybody to our belief; for all seemed to have made
up their minds beforehand; and I never yet knew
or heard of a man that could be argued out of his
politics, who had once made up his mind on the
subject. I laboured, however, and that with astonishing
zeal; and as I paid my own expenses,
and treated all thirsty souls that seemed approachable
in that way to good liquor, I paid a good
round sum, that I could ill spare, for the privilege
of electioneering; and was therefore satisfied that
my claim to office would hold good.

And so it did, as was universally allowed by all
the party; but the conviction of its justice was all
I ever gained in reward of my exertions. The
battle was fought and won, the party was triumphant,
and I was just rejoioing in the successful
termination of my hopes, when they were blasted
by the sudden appointment of another to the
very office which I considered my own. That
other was one of the aforesaid leaders, who had
been foremost in commending my zeal and talents,
and in assuring me that the office should be mine.

I was confounded, petrified, enraged; the duplicity
and perfidy of my new friends filled me
with indignation. It was evident they must all
have joined in recommending my rival to the office;
for he was a man of bad character, who must,
without such recommendations, have missed his
aim. All therefore had recommended him, and all
had promised their suffrages to me! “The scoundrels!”
said I to myself. I perceived that I had

-- 033 --

[figure description] Page 033.[end figure description]

fallen among thieves; it was clear that no party
could be in the right, which was led by such unprincipled
men; there was corruption at the heart
of the whole body; the party consisted of rogues
who were gaping after the loaves and fishes; their
honesty was a song—their patriotism a farce. In a
word, I found I had joined the wrong party, and I
resolved to go over to the other, sincerely repenting
the delusion that had made me so long the advocate
of wrong and deception.

But fortune willed otherwise. I had arrived at
the crisis of my fate; and before I could put my
purpose into execution, I was suddenly involved in
that tissue of adventure, which, I have no doubt,
will be considered the most remarkable that ever
befell a human being.

CHAPTER VIII. A description of the Owl-roost, with Mr. Jumble's ideas in relation to Captain Kid's money.

For five mortal days I remained at home, chewing
the bone of reflection; and a hard bone it
was. On the sixth there came a villanous constable
with a—the reader may suppose what. I struck a
bargain with him, and he took his leave, and Julius
Cesar also, saddle, bridle, and all; whereby I
escaped an introduction to the nearest justice of the

-- 034 --

[figure description] Page 034.[end figure description]

peace. The next visit, I had good reason to apprehend,
would be from the sheriff; for, having
failed to pay up the interest on the mortgage, the
mortgagee had discoursed, and that in no very mysterious
strain, on the virtues of a writ of Venditioni
Exponas,
or some other absurd and scoundrelly
invention of the lawyers. I was at my wits' end,
and I wished that I was a dog; in which case I
should have gone mad, and bitten the new post-master
and all his friends.

“Very well,” said I to myself; “the forty-acre
is no longer mine.” I clapped on my hat, and
walked into the open air, resolved to take a look at
it before the sheriff came to convince me it belonged
to some other person. As I passed from
the door, I looked up to the broken porch: “May
it fall on the head of my successor,” I said.

It was a summer eve,—a day in July; but a
raw wind blew from the northeast, and the air was
as chill as in November. I buttoned my coat, and
as I did so, took a peep at my elbows: I required
no second look to convince me that I was a poor
man.

The ruined meadows of which I have spoken,
lie on a little creek that makes in from the Delaware.
Their shape is the worst in the world, being
that of a triangle, the longest leg of which lies
on the water. Hence the expense of embanking
them is formidable,—a circumstance for which the
muskrats have no consideration. The apex of the
angle is a bog, lying betwixt two low hillocks, or

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[figure description] Page 035.[end figure description]

swells of ground, between which crawls a brook,
scarce deep enough to swim a tadpole, though an
ox may hide in the mud at the bottom. It oozes
from a turfy ledge or bar, a few feet higher than
the general level of the hollow, which terminates
above it in a circular basin of two acres in area.
This circular basin is verdant enough to the eye,
the whole surface being covered by a thick growth
of alders, arrow-wood, water-laurels, and other
shrubs that flourish in a swamp, as well as a bountiful
sprinkling of cat-tails on the edges. The soil
is a vegetable jelly; and how any plant of a pound
in weight could ever sustain itself on it, I never
was able to comprehend. It is thought to be the
nearest road to the heart of the Chinese empire;
to find which, all that is necessary to do is, to take
a plunge into it head foremost, and keep on until
you arrive at daylight among the antipodes.

The whole place has a solitary and mournful appearance,
which is to many made still more dreary
and even sepulchral by the appearance of a little
old church, built by the Swedes many a year ago,
but now in ruins, and the graveyard around it,
these being but a short distance off, and on the east
side of the hollow. The spot is remote from my
dwelling, and apparently from all others; nevertheless
there is a small farmhouse—it was once
mine—on a by-road, not many rods from the old
church. A path, not often trodden, leads from my
house to the by-road, and crosses the hollow by the
grassy ledge spoken of before. It is the shortest

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path to the village, and I sometimes pursued it
when walking thither.

This lonesome spot had a very bad name in
our neighbourhood, and was considered to be
haunted. Its common name was the Owl-roost,
given it in consequence of the vast numbers of
these birds that perched, and I believe nested in
the centre of the swamp, where was a place
comparatively dry, or supposed to be so, for I believe
no one ever visited it, and a clump of trees
larger than those in other places. Some called the
place Captain Kid's Hole, after that famous pirate
who was supposed to have buried his money there,
as he is supposed to have buried it in a hundred
thousand other dismal spots along the different
rivers of America. Old Jim Jumble was a devout
believer in the story, and often tried his luck in digging
for the money, but without success; which
he attributed to the circumstance of his digging in
the daytime, whereas midnight was, in his opinion,
the only true time to delve for charmed treasure.
But midnight was the period when the ghosts came
down from the old graveyard to squeak about the
swamp; and I never heard of Jim being found in
that neighbourhood after nightfall. The truth is,
the owls never hear any one go by after dark without
saluting him with a horrible chorus of hooting
and screeching, that will make a man's hair rise on
his head; and I have been sometimes daunted by
them myself.

To this place I directed my steps; and being

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very melancholy, I sat down at the foot of a beech-tree
that grew near the path. I thought of the
owls, and the ghosts, and of Captain Kid into the
bargain, and I marvelled to myself whether there
could be any foundation for the belief that converted
such nooks into hiding-places for his ill-gotten gold.
While I thought over the matter, I began to wish
the thing could be true, and that some good spirit
might direct me to the spot where the money lay
hid; for, sure enough, no one in the world had
greater necessity for it than I. I conned over the
many stories that old Jim had told me about the
matter, as well as all the nonsensical ceremonies
that were to be performed, and the divers ridiculous
dangers to be encountered by those who sought
the treasure; all which were mere notions that had
entered his absurd head, but which he had pondered
over so often and long, that he believed they had
been told him by others.

The great difficulty, according to his belief, and
a necessary preliminary to all successful operations,
was first to discover exactly the spot where
the treasure lay buried; and, indeed, this seemed to
be a very needful preliminary. The discovery was
to be made only by dreaming of the spot three
nights in succession. As to dreaming twice, that
was nothing: Jim had twenty times dreamed two
nights together that he had fallen upon the spot;
but upon digging it discovered nothing. Having
been so lucky as to dream of a place three successive
nights, then the proper way to secure the

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p016-047 [figure description] Page 038.[end figure description]

treasure, as he told me, would be, to select a night
when the moon was at the full, and begin digging
precisely at twelve o'clock, saying the Lord's
prayer backwards all the time, till the money was
found. And here lay the danger; a single blunder
in the prayer, and wo betide the devotee! for the
devil, who would be standing by all the time, would
that moment pounce upon his soul, and carry it
away in a flame of brimstone.

CHAPTER IX. Sheppard Lee stumbles upon a happy man, and quarrels with him.

While I sat pondering over these matters, and
wondering whether I could say the prayer backwards,
and doubting (for, to my shame be it spoken,
I had not often, of late years, said it forward),
I heard a gun go off in the meadow; and rising,
and walking that way, I discovered a sportsman
who had just shot a woodcock, which his dog carried
to him in his mouth. I knew the gunner at
first sight to be a gentleman of Philadelphia, by
the name of Higginson, a brewer, who was reputed
to be very wealthy, and who had several times
before visited our neighbourhood, for the purpose
of shooting. I knew little of him except his
name, having never spoken to him. The neighbours
usually addressed him as squire, though I
knew not for what reason. He was a man of forty

-- 039 --

[figure description] Page 039.[end figure description]

or forty-five years old, somewhat fat and portly,
but with a rosy, hearty complexion, looking the
very personification of health and content; and,
indeed, as I gazed at him, strolling up and down
with his dog and gun, I thought I had never before
seen such a picture of happiness.

But the sight only filled me with gloom and
anger. “Here,” said I to myself, “is a man rich
and prosperous, who passes his whole life in an
amusement that delights him, goes whither he
likes, does what he will, eats, drinks, and is merry,
and the people call him squire wherever he goes.
I wish I were he; for, surely, he is the happiest
man in the world!”

While I pondered thus, regarding him with admiration
and hatred together, a bird rose at his feet,
and he shot it; and the next moment another,
which he served in the same way.

I noted the exultation expressed in his countenance,
and I was filled with a sudden fury. I
strode up to him while he was recharging his
piece, and as I approached him, he looked up and
gave me a nod of so much complacency and condescension
together, that it rendered me ten times
madder than ever.

“Sir,” said I, looking him full in the face, “before
you shoot any more birds here, answer me a
question. Who do you go for—the Administration,
or the Opposition?”

This was a very absurd way of beginning a conversation
with a stranger; but I was in such a fury

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[figure description] Page 040.[end figure description]

I scarce knew what I said. He gave me a stare,
and then a smile, and nodding his head good-humouredly,
replied,

“Oh! for the Administration, to be sure!”

“You do, sir!” I rejoined, shaking my fist at him.
“Then, sir, let me tell you, sir, you belong to a
scoundrelly party, and are a scoundrel yourself,
sir: and so, sir, walk off my place, or I'll prosecute
you for a trespass.”

“You insolent ragamuffin!” said he.

Ragamuffin! Was I sunk so low that a man
trespassing on my own property could call me
ragamuffin?

“You poor, miserable shote!”—

So degraded that I could be called a pig?

“You half-starved old sand-field Jersey kill-deer!”—

A Jersey kill-deer!

“You vagabond! You beggar! You Dicky
Dout!”—

I was struck dumb by the multitude and intensity
of his epithets; and before I could recover
speech, he shouldered his gun, snapped his fingers
in my face, and whistling to his dog, walked off
the ground. Before he had gone six steps, however,
he turned round, gave me a hard look, and bursting
into a laugh, exclaimed, tapping his forehead as he
spoke,—

“Poor fellow! you're wrong in your upper
story!”

-- 041 --

[figure description] Page 041.[end figure description]

With that he resumed the path, and crossed
over to the old church, where I lost sight of him.

“Wrong in my upper story!” It was the very
phrase which Tom Alderwood, my brother-in-law,
had applied to me, and which had given me such
mortal offence that I had never forgiven him, and
had refused to be reconciled, even when, as my
difficulties began to thicken about me, he came to
offer me his assistance. “Wrong in my upper
story!” I was so much confounded by the man's
insolence, that I remained rooted to the spot until
he had got out of sight; and then, not knowing
what else to do, I returned home; when I had a
visit from old Jim, who entered the apartment, and
not knowing I had sold my horse, cried out, “Massa
Sheppard, want money to shoe Julius Cesar 'morrow
morning. Blacksmith swear no trust no
more.”

“Go to the devil, you old rascal!” said I, in a
rage.

“Guess I will,” said Jim, shaking his head:
“follow hard after massa.”

That insinuation, which struck me as being
highly appropriate, was all I got for supper; for it
was Jim's way, when I offended him of an afternoon,
to sneak off, taking Dinah with him, and thus
leave me to shift for myself during the whole night
as I could. There was never a more tyrannical
old rascal than Jim Jumble.

-- 042 --

p016-051 CHAPTER X. Sheppard Lee has an extraordinary dream, which promises to be more advantageous than any of his previous ones.

[figure description] Page 042.[end figure description]

I went therefore supperless to bed; but I
dreamed of Captain Kid's money, and the character
of my dream was quite surprising. I thought
that my house had fallen down in a high wind, as,
indeed, it was like enough to do, and that I was
sitting on a broken chair before the ruins, when
Squire Higginson made his appearance, looking,
however, like a dead man; for his face was pale,
and he was swathed about with a winding-sheet.
Instead of a gun he carried a spade in his hand;
and a great black pig followed at his heels in place
of his dog. He came directly towards me, and
looking me full in the face, said, “Sheppard Lee,
what are you doing here?” but I was struck with
fear, and could make no reply. With that, he
spoke again, saying, “The sheriff is coming to levy
on your property; get up, therefore, and follow
me.” So saying, he began to walk away, whistling
to the pig, which ran at his heels like a dog; and
I found myself impelled to follow him. He took
the path to the Owl-roost, and, arriving there, came
to a pause, saying, “Sheppard Lee, you are a poor
man, and eaten up with discontent; but I am your
friend, and you shall have all your wishes.” He

-- 043 --

[figure description] Page 043.[end figure description]

then turned to the pig, which was rooting under a
gum-tree, and blowing his whistle, said, “Black
Pig, show me some game, or I'll trounce you;”
and immediately the pig began to run about snuffing,
and snorting, and coursing like a dog, so that
it was wonderful to behold him. At last the squire,
growing impatient, and finding fault with the animal's
ill success, for he discovered nothing, took a
whip from under his shroud, and fell to beating
him; after which the pig hunted more to his liking;
and, having coursed about us for a while, ran up to
the beech-tree, under which I had sat the day before,
and began with snout and hoof to tear up the
earth at its roots. “Oho!” said Squire Higginson,
“I never knew Black Pig to deceive me. We shall
have fine sport now.” Then, putting the spade
into my hands, he bade me dig, exhorting me to
be of good heart, for I was now to live a new life
altogether. But before I struck the spade into the
earth he drew a mark on the ground, to guide me,
and the figure was precisely that of a human grave.
Not daunted by this circumstance, for in my dream
it appeared natural enough, I began to dig; and
after throwing out the earth to a depth just equal
to the length of the spade, I discovered an iron
coffin, the lid of which was in three pieces, and,
not being fastened in any way, was therefore easily
removed. Judge of my transports when, having
lifted up the piece in the middle, I found the whole
coffin full of gold and silver, some in the form of
ancient coins, but the most of it in bars and ingots.

-- 044 --

[figure description] Page 044.[end figure description]

I would have lifted up the whole coffin, and carried
it away at once, but that was impossible; I therefore
began to fill my pockets, my hat, my handkerchief,
and even my bosom; until the squire
bade me cease, telling me I should visit the treasure
at the same hour on the following night. I
then replaced the iron cover, and threw the earth
again into the grave, as the squire commanded;
and then leaving him, and running home as hard
as I could, in fear lest some one should see me, I
fell into a miry place, where I was weighed down
by the mass of gold I had about me, and smothered.
In the midst of my dying agonies I awoke, and
found that all was a dream.

Ah! how much torment a poor man has dreaming
of riches! The dream made me very melancholy;
and I went moping about all that day, wishing
myself anybody or any thing but that I was,
and hiding in the woods at the sight of any one
who chanced to pass by, for I thought everybody
was the sheriff. I went to bed the following night
in great disorder of spirit, and had no sooner closed
my eyes than I dreamed the same dream over
again. The squire made his appearance as before,
led me to the Owl-roost, and set the black pig
hunting until the grave was found. In a word, the
dream did not vary in a single particular from that I
had had the night before; and when I woke up the
next day, the surprise of such an occurrence filled
me with new and superstitious ideas, and I awaited
the next night with anxious expectations, resolved,

-- 045 --

[figure description] Page 045.[end figure description]

if the dream should be repeated again, to go dig at
the place, and see what should come of it.

Remembering what old Jim had said in regard
to the full of the moon, I went to a neighbour's to
look at his almanack (for I had none of my own),
and discovered, to my unspeakable surprise and
agitation, though I had half known it before, that
the moon we then had would be at her full between
ten and eleven o'clock on the following
morning.

Such a coincidence betwixt the time of my
dreams and the proper period for hunting the treasure
(since at the full moon was the proper time),
was enough of itself to excite my expectations;
and the identity between the two visions was so
extraordinary, that I began to believe that the
treasure did really exist in the Owl-roost, which,
being very solitary, and yet conveniently accessible
from the river through the medium of the creek,
was one of the best hiding-places in the world, and
that I was the happy man destined to obtain it.

I went to bed accordingly the third night with
a strong persuasion that the vision would be repeated:
I was not disappointed. I found myself
again digging at the beech-roots, and scraping up
great wedges of gold and silver from the iron coffin.
What was remarkable in this dream, however,
was, that when I had picked up as much as I could
carry, the squire nodded to me, and said, “Now,
Sheppard Lee, you know the way to Captain Kid's
treasure, and you can come to-morrow night by

-- 046 --

[figure description] Page 046.[end figure description]

yourself.” And what was further observable, I
did not dream of falling into a miry place on this
occasion, but arrived safely home, and beheld with
surprise and delight that my house, which I had
left in ruins, was standing up more beautiful than
ever it had been, newly painted from top to bottom,
and the pillars of the porch were gilded over, and
shining like gold.

While enjoying this agreeable prospect I awoke,
and such was the influence of the vision on my
mind, and the certain belief I now cherished that
the vast treasure was mine,—a whole coffinful of
gold and silver,—that I fell to shouting and dancing;
so that old Jim Jumble, who ran up into my chamber
to see what was the matter, was persuaded I
had gone mad, and began to blubber and scold, and
take on in the most diverting way in the world.

I pacified him as well as I could, but resolved
to keep my secret until I could surprise him with
the sight of my treasure, all collected together in
the house; and I proceeded without delay to make
such preparations as were proper for the coming
occasion. I took a spade and mattock, and carried
them to the hollow, where I hid them among the
bushes. But this I found difficult to do as secretly
as I wished; for old Jim, either from suspecting
what I was after, or believing I had lost my mind,
kept dogging me about; so that it was near midday
before I succeeded in giving him the slip, and
carrying my tools to the hollow.

-- 047 --

p016-056 CHAPTER XI. In which the reader is introduced to a personage who may claim his acquaintance hereafter.

In this place, to my dismay, I stumbled upon a
man, who, from the character he had in the neighbourhood,
I was afraid was hunting the treasure,
as well as myself. He was an old German doctor,
called Feuerteufel, which extraordinary name, as I
had been told, signified, in German, Fire-devil.
He had come to our village about two weeks before,
and nobody knew for what reason. All day long
he wandered about among the woods, swamps, and
marshes, collecting plants and weeds, stones, animals,
and snakes, which he seemed to value very
highly. Some thought he was a counterfeiter in
disguise, and others called him a conjurer. Many
were of opinion he was hunting for gold-mines, or
precious stones; while others had their thoughts,
and said he was the devil, his appearance being
somewhat grim and forbidding. As for myself,
having lighted upon him once or twice in the woods,
I did not know what to think of him; but I did
not like his looks. He was very tall and rawboned,
with long arms, and immense big hands; his skin
was extremely dark and pock-marked, and he had
a mouth that ran from ear to ear, and long, bushy,
black hair. His eyes were like saucers, and deep

-- 048 --

[figure description] Page 048.[end figure description]

sunk in their sockets, with tremendous big black
eyebrows ever frowning above them; and what
made him look remarkable was, that although he
was ever frowning with his eyes, his mouth was
as continually grinning in a sort of laugh, such as
you see in a man struck with a palsy in the head.
He was the terror of all the children, and it was
said the dogs never barked at him.

I found him in the hollow, hard by the beech-tree,
and had scarce time to fling my implements
among the bushes before he saw me. He was
standing looking over towards the old church, where
there was a funeral procession; for that morning
the neighbours were burying a young man that
had taken laudanum for love two days before, but
had only expired the previous evening.

As soon as the German beheld me, he started
like a guilty man, and made as if he would have
run away; but suddenly changing his mind, he
stepped towards me, and just as we met he stooped
down and pulled a flower that struck his eye. Then
rising up, he grinned at me, and nodding, said,
“Gooten morrow, mine prudder; it ish gooten
dag!”—though what he meant by “gooten dag
I know no more than the man in the moon, having
never studied German. I did not at all like his appearance
in this spot at such a time; but I reflected
at last that he was only culling simples, and had
paused near the beech-tree to look at the funeral, as
would have been extremely natural in any man.
But I liked the appearance of the funeral still less at

-- 049 --

[figure description] Page 049.[end figure description]

such a particular time, and I thought there was
something ominous in it.

But my mind was fixed upon the treasure I was
soon to enjoy too firmly to be long drawn off by
any such doleful spectacle; and accordingly, having
waited impatiently until the attendants on the
funeral had all stalked away, as well as the German
doctor, I stole towards the beech-tree, and surveyed
the ground at its roots. There were some stones
lying among them, which I removed, as well as the
long grass that waved over their tops; and looking
closely, I thought I could see among some of the
smaller roots of the tree, that were pleached together
on the surface of the earth, a sort of arrangement
very much in shape of a grave. This was a new
proof to me that the treasure lay below, and I considered
that my good angel had platted these roots
together, in order to direct me in what spot to dig.

I could scarce avoid beginning on the instant;
but, I remembered, that was not the hour. I therefore
concealed my spade and mattock, and went
home; when the first thing I did was to hunt me
up a book that had the Lord's prayer in it (for I
feared to trust to my memory alone), and write this
out backwards with the greatest care; and I then
spent the remainder of the day in committing the
words to memory in that order; but I found it a
difficult task.

As the evening drew nigh, I found myself growing
into such a pitch of excitement, that, fearing I
should betray the secret to Jim Jumble, who was

-- 050 --

p016-059 [figure description] Page 050.[end figure description]

constantly prying in upon me, I resolved to walk
to the village, and there remain until the hour for
seeking the treasure should draw nigh. I had another
reason for this step; for my watch having
gone, some month or two before Julius Cesar, to
satisfy a hungry fellow to whom I owed money, I
knew not how to be certain of the hour, unless by
learning it of some one in the village; and to the
village I accordingly went soon after sunset.

CHAPTER XII. Sheppard Lee visits the village, makes a patriotic speech, and leaves the fence.

Having arrived at the village, I proceeded to a
tavern, which was the chief place of resort, especially
after nightfall, for all the idlers and topers of
the town, of whom there were great numbers, the village
at that time being a place of but little business.

I found some ten or a dozen already assembled
in the bar-room, drinking brandy, smoking, chewing,
talking politics, and swearing. I had no sooner
entered than some of them, who were discoursing
loudly concerning the purity and economy of
the government, and the honesty of those who supported
it, appealed to me (my electioneering pilgrimage
through the country having caused me to
be looked upon as quite a knowing politician) to
assist them in the argument they were holding.

-- 051 --

[figure description] Page 051.[end figure description]

Remembering the scurvy way in which I had
been treated by the party, I felt strongly tempted
to give them a piece of my mind on the other side
of the question; but I thought of my buried treasure,
and conceiving it unwise to begin the quarrel
at that time, I made them no answer, but sat down
in a corner, where I hoped to escape observation.
Here I employed myself conning over the prayer
backwards, until I was assured I was perfect in
the exercise.

I then—still keeping aloof from the company—
gave my mind up to a consideration of what I
should do when I had transferred Captain Kid's
hoards of gold from the coffin to my house.

The first thing I resolved to do was to pay my
debts, which, how greatly soever they oppressed
me, were not actually very fearful in amount; after
which I was determined to rebuild my house, restore
my fields to their original condition, and go
to law with Mr. Aikin Jones, who I had no doubt
had cheated me out of my property. It did not
occur to me that, by such a step, I should get rid
of my second fortune as expeditiously as I had the
first; all that I thought on was the satisfaction of
having my revenge on the villain, whom I should
have punished in perhaps a more summary way,
had it not been for my respect for the laws, and
my being naturally a peaceable man. But I did
not think long of Mr. Jones; the idea of the great
wealth I was soon to possess filled my mind,

-- 052 --

[figure description] Page 052.[end figure description]

and I gave myself up to the most transporting
reveries.

From these I was roused by hearing some one
near me pronounce the words “Captain Kid's
money
”—the idea that was uppermost in my own
mind; and looking round in a kind of perturbation,
I saw a knot of people surrounding Feuerteufel, the
German doctor, one of whom was discoursing on the
subject of the treasure in the Owl-roost, and avowing
his belief that he—that is, the German doctor—
was conjuring after it; an imputation that gained
great credit with the company, there being no other
way to account for his visit to our village, and his
constant perambulations through the woods and
marshes in the neighbourhood of the Owl-roost.

The German doctor, to my great relief, replied
to this charge by expanding his jaws as if he would
have swallowed the speaker, though he was guilty
of nothing beyond a laugh, which was in depth and
quality of tone as if an empty hogshead had indulged
in the same diversion. His voice was indeed
prodigiously deep and hollow, and even his
laugh had something in it solemn and lugubrious.
“Mine friends,” said he, in very bad English, “I
fos can do men' creat t'ings; put I can no find no
Captain Kitt's money not at all. I toes neffer looks
for coldt, except in places fare Gott puts it; t'at
iss, in t'a coldt-mines!” With that, he laughed
again, and looking upon the people about him with
great contempt, he walked up stairs to his chamber—
for he lodged in the inn.

-- 053 --

[figure description] Page 053.[end figure description]

Soon after this occurrence, and just when I had
sunk again into a revery, a man stepped up to me,
and saluted me in a way well suited to startle me.

“Sir,” said he, “friend Kill-deer, before you
scratch your head any more on this bench, answer
me a question. What do you go for,—brandy-toddy
or gin-sling?”

It was Squire Higginson, and he looked very
good-humoured and waggish; but as I had dreamed
of him so often, and always as being in his grave-clothes,
I was rather petrified at his appearance, as
if it were that of a spectre, rather than a mortal
man. As for our quarrel in the meadow, it had
slipped my mind altogether, until, having recovered
my composure a little, it was recalled to my recollection
by the associations arising out of his words.

But I remembered the circumstance at last, and
being moreover offended by his present freedom,
which was nothing less than sheer impertinence, I
told him I desired to have nothing to say to him; on
which he fell into a passion, and told me “I might
go to the devil for a ragamuffin and a turncoat
politician.” But, mad as he was, he ended his
speech by bursting into a laugh, and then, tapping
his forehead as before, and nodding his head and
winking, he left the bar-room to seek his chamber—
for he put up at the tavern, as well as the German
doctor.

These insults threw me into some ferment, and
being irritated still farther by the remarks of the
company, especially when some one asked what

-- 054 --

[figure description] Page 054.[end figure description]

the squire meant by calling me “a turncoat politician,”
I allowed myself to be thrown into a passion;
in the course of which I gave such of my old
friends as were present to know that I had forsworn
their party, and considered it to be composed of a
pack of the corruptest scoundrels in the country.

This unexpected denunciation produced a great
explosion; my old friends fell upon me tooth and
nail, as the saying is, reviling me as a traitor and
apostate. But, on the other hand, those of the opposition
who happened to be present ranged themselves
on my side, applauding my honesty, judgment,
and spirit to such a degree, that I was more
than ever convinced I had been on the wrong side.
I met reproaches with contempt, and threats with
defiance; opposed words to words, and assertions
to assertions (for, in politics, we do not make use
of arguments); and finding myself triumphantly
victorious, I mounted into a chair, and made a
speech that was received by my new friends with
roars of applause. Intoxicated with these marks of
approbation, I launched at once into a sea of declamation,
in which I might have tossed about during
the whole night, had I not by chance, while balking
for a word, rolled my eyes upon the clock that
stood opposite to me in the bar, and perceived that
it wanted just a quarter of an hour to twelve
o'clock. In a moment I forgot every thing but the
treasure that awaited me in the Owl-roost; I stopped
short in the middle of a sentence, took one more look
at the clock, and then, leaping down from the chair,

-- 055 --

p016-064 [figure description] Page 055.[end figure description]

rushed from the tavern without saying a word, and,
to the amazement of friend and foe, ran at full speed
out of the village; and this gait I continued until I
had reached the old Swedes' Church; for I had
taken the footpath that led in that direction.

CHAPTER XIII. What befell the author on his way to the Owl-roost.

As it was now the full of the moon, there was
of course light enough for my purpose; but the
sky was dappled with clouds very dense and heavy,
some of which crossing the moon every minute or
two, there was a constant alternation of light and
darkness, so that the trees and all other objects
were constantly changing their appearance, now
starting up in bold relief, white and silvery from
the darkness, and now vanishing again into gloom.

A cloud passed over the moon just as I reached
the old church; and the wall of the burial-ground
having fallen down at a certain place, where the
rubbish obstructed the path, it was my ill luck to
break my shin against a fragment; the pain of
which caused me to utter a loud groan. To my
amazement and horror, this interjection of suffering
was echoed from the grave-yard hard by, a voice
screaming out in awful tones, “O Lord! O Lord!”
and casting my eyes round, I beheld, as I thought,

-- 056 --

[figure description] Page 056.[end figure description]

three or four shapes, that I deemed nothing less
than devils incarnate, dancing about among the
tomb-stones.

I was seized with such terror at this sight, that,
forgetting my hurt and the treasure together, I took
to my heels, and did not cease running until I had
left the church some quarter of a mile behind me;
and I am not certain I should have come to a halt
then, had it not been my fate to tumble over a cow
that lay ruminating on the path; whereby, besides
half breaking my neck, and cruelly scratching my
nose, I stunned myself to that degree, that it was
some two or three minutes before I was able to
rise.

I had thus time to recollect myself, and reflect
that I was running away from Captain Kid's money,
the idea of losing which was not to be tolerated a
moment.

But how to get to the Owl-roost without falling
into the hands of the devils or spectres at the old
church, was what gave me infinite concern. The
midnight hour—the only one for attempting the
treasure with success—was now close at hand; so
that there was no time left me to reach the place
by a roundabout course through the woods to the
right, or over the meadows to the left. I must
pass the old church, or I must perhaps give up the
treasure.

There was no time to deliberate; the figures I
had seen, and the cries I had heard, might have
been coinages of my own brain; nay, the latter

-- 057 --

[figure description] Page 057.[end figure description]

were perhaps, after all, only the echoes of my own
voice, distorted into something terrible by my fears.
I was not naturally superstitious, and had never before
believed in ghosts. But I cannot recollect
what precise arguments occurred to me at that moment,
to cause me to banish my fears. The hope
of making my fortune was doubtless the strongest
of all; and the moon suddenly shining out with the
effulgence almost of day, I became greatly imboldened,
and, in a word, set forward again, resolved,
if met by a second apparition, and driven to flight,
to fly, not backwards, but forwards,—that is, in the
direction of the Owl-roost.

On this occasion, it was my fortune to be saluted
by an owl that sat on the old wall among some
bushes, and hooted at me as I went by; and notwithstanding
that the sound was extremely familiar
to my ears, I was thrown into a panic, and took to
my heels as before; though, as I had resolved, I
ran onward, pursuing the path to the swamp. It is
quite possible there may have been a crew of imps
and disimbodied spirits jumping among the graves
as before; but, as I had the good fortune to be
frightened before I caught sight of them, I did not
stop to look for them; and, for the same reason, I
heard no more awful voices shrieking in my ears.
I reached the Owl-roost and the memorable beech-tree,
where the necessity of acting with all speed
helped me to get rid of my terror. I knew that I
had not a moment to spare, and running to the
bushes where I had hidden my mattock and spade, I

-- 058 --

p016-067 [figure description] Page 058.[end figure description]

fetched them to the tree, and instantly began to
dig, not forgetting to pary backwards all the while,
as hard as I could.

CHAPTER XIV. Sheppard Lee digs for the buried treasure, but makes a blow with the mattock in the wrong place.

I was but an ill hand at labour, and of the use
of the spade and mattock I knew nothing. The
nature of the ground in which I was digging made
the task especially difficult and disagreeable.
There were many big stones scattered about in the
earth, which jarred my arms horribly whenever I
stuck them; so that (all my efforts to the contrary
notwithstanding) I was, every minute or two, interrupting
my prayer with expressions which were
neither wise nor religious, but highly expressive of
my torture of body and mind. And then I was
digging among the toughest and vilest roots in the
world, some of which I thought I should never get
through; for I had not remembered to provide myself
with an axe, and I was afraid to go home for
one, lest some evil accident or discovery might rob
me of the expected treasure.

Accordingly, I had to do with a tougher piece of
labour than I had ever undertaken before in my
whole life; and I reckon I worked a full hour and

-- 059 --

[figure description] Page 059.[end figure description]

a half, before I had got the hole I was excavating
as deep as I supposed would be necessary. I succeeded
at last, however, in throwing out so much
earth, that when I measured the depth of the pit
with my spade, I found the handle just on a level
with the surface of the ground.

But I was not so near the treasure as I supposed;
I struck my mattock into the clay, scarce doubting
that I should hear the ring of the iron coffin, Instead
of reaching that, however, I struck a great
stone, and with a force that made the mattock-helve
fly out of my hands to my chin, which it saluted
with a vigour that set all my teeth to rattling, knocking
me down into the bargain.

Having recovered from the effects of this blow,
I fell to work again, thumping and delving until I
had excavated to the depth of at least five feet.
My heart began to fail me, as well as my strength,
as I got so deep into the earth without finding the
gold; for I began to fear lest my dreams had, after
all, deceived me. In my agitation of mind, I handled
my tools so blindly, that I succeeded in lodging
my mattock, which was aimed furiously at a
root, among the toes of my right foot; and the pain
was so horribly acute, that I leaped howling out of
the pit, and sinking down upon the grass, fell
straightway into a trance.

-- 060 --

p016-069 CHAPTER XV. In which Sheppard Lee finds himself in a quandary which the reader will allow to be the most wonderful and lamentable ever known to a human being.

When I awoke from this trance, it was almost
daybreak.

I recovered in some confusion of mind, and did
not for a moment notice that I was moving away
from the place of my disaster; but I perceived
there was something strange in my feelings and
sensations. I felt exceedingly light and buoyant,
as if a load had been taken, not merely from my
mind, but from my body; it seemed to me as if I
had the power of moving whither I would without
exertion, and I fancied that I swept along without
putting my feet to the ground. Nay, I had a notion
that I was passing among shrubs and bushes,
without experiencing from them any hinderance to
my progress whatever. I felt no pain in my foot,
which I had hit such a violent blow, and none in
my hands, that had been wofully blistered by my
work; nor had I the slightest feeling of weariness
or fatigue. On the whole, my sensations were
highly novel and agreeable; but before I had time
to analyze them, or to wonder at the change, I remembered
that I was wandering away from the
buried treasure.

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[figure description] Page 061.[end figure description]

I returned to the spot, but only to be riveted to
the earth in astonishment. I saw, stretched on the
grass, just on the verge of the pit, the dead body of
a man; but what was my horror, when, perusing
the ashy features in the light of the moon, I perceived
my onw countenance! It was no illusion;
it was my face, my figure, and dressed in my
clothes; and the whole presented the appearance
of perfect death.

The sight was as bewildering as it was shocking;
and the whole state of things was not more
terrifying than inexplicable. There I lay on the
ground, stiff and lifeless; and here I stood on my
feet, alive, and surveying my own corpse, stretched
before me. But I forgot my extraordinary duality
in my concern for myself—that is to say, for that
part of me, that eidolon, or representative, or duplicate
of me, that was stretched on the grass, I
stooped down to raise the figure from the earth, in
an instinctive desire to give myself aid, but in vain;
I could not lift the body; it did not seem to me that
I could even touch it,—my fingers, strive as I
might, I could not bring into contact with it.

My condition, or conditions (for I was no longer
of the singular number) at this time, can be understood
only by comparing my confusion of senses
and sensations to that which occurs in a dream,
when one beholds himself dead, surveys his body,
and philosophizes or laments, and is, all the time,
to all intents and purposes, without being surprised
at it, two persons, one of which lives and observes,

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while the other is wholly defunct. Thus I was,
or appeared to be, without bestowing any reflection
upon such an extraordinary circumstance, or being
even conscious of it, two persons; in one of which
I lived, but forgot my existence, while trembling at
the death that had overcome me in the other. My
true situation I did not yet comprehend, nor even
dream of; though it soon turned out to be natural
enough, and I understood it.

I was entirely overcome with horror at my unfortunate
condition; and seeing that I was myself
unable to render myself any assistance, I ran, upon
an impulse of instinct, to the nearest quarter where
it was to be obtained. This was at the cottage, or
little farmhouse, which I spoke of before as standing
on the by-road, a little beyond the old church.
It was occupied by a man named Turnbuckle, whom
I knew very well, and who was a very industrious,
honest man, although a tenant of Mr. Aikin Jones.

I arrived at his house in an amazingly short
space of time, rather flying, as it seemed to me,
through the air, than running over the marsh and
up the rugged hill. It was the gray of the morning
when I reached his house, and the family was
just stirring within. As I ran towards the door, his
dogs, of which he had a goodly number, as is common
with poor men, set up a dismal howling, clapped
their tails between their legs, and sneaked off
among the bushes; a thing that surprised me much,
for they were usually very savage of temper. I
called to Turnbuckle by name, and that in a voice

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so piteous that, in half a minute, he and his eldest
son came tumbling out of the house in the greatest
haste and wonder. No sooner, however, had they
cast eyes on me, than they uttered fearful cries;
the old man fell flat on his face, as if in a fit, and
the son ran back into the house, as if frightened
out of his senses.

“Help me, Thomas Turnbuckle,” said I; “I
am lying dead under the beech-tree in the hollow:
come along and give me help.”

But the old man only answered by groaning and
crying; and at that moment the door opened, and
his eldest son appeared with a gun, which he fired
at me, to my inexpressible terror.

But if I was frightened at this, how much more
was I horrified when the old man, leaping up at
the discharge, roared out, “O Lord! a ghost! a
ghost!” and ran into the house.

I perceived it all in a moment: the howling of
the dogs, which they still kept up from among the
bushes,—the fear of Turnbuckle and his family, all
of whom, old and young, male and female, were
now squeaking in the house, as if Old Nick had
got among them,—my being in two places together,
and a thousand other circumstances that now occurred
to me, apprized me of the dreadful fact,
which I had not before suspected: I was a dead
man!—my body lay in the marsh under the beechtree,
and it was my spirit that was wandering about
in search of assistance!

As this terrible idea flashed across my mind, and

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I saw that I was a ghost, I was as much frightened
as the Turnbuckles had been, and I took to my
heels to fly from myself, until I recollected myself
a little, and thought of the absurdity of such a proceeding.
But even this fatal conception did not remove
my anxiety in relation to my poor body,—or
myself, as I could not help regarding my body; and
I ran back to the beech-tree in a kind of distraction,
hoping I might have been revived and resuscitated
in my absence.

I reached the pit, and stared wildly about me—
my body was gone,—vanished! I looked into the
hole I had excavated; there was nothing in it but
the spade and mattock, and my hat, which had
fallen from my head when I leaped out of it, after
hurting my foot. I stared round me again; the
print of my body in the grass, where it had lain,
was quite perceptible (for it was now almost broad
day), but there was no body there, and no other
vestige excepting one of my shoes, which was torn
and bloody, being the identical one I had worn on
the foot hurt by the mattock.

-- 065 --

p016-074 CHAPTER XVI. Sheppard Lee finds comfort when he least expects it. The extraordinary close of the catastrophe.

What had become of me? that is, what had
become of my body? Its disappearance threw me
into a phrensy; and I was about to run home, and
summon old Jim Jumble to help me look for it,
when I heard a dog yelping and whining in a peculiarly
doleful manner, at some little distance down
in the meadow; and I instantly ran in that direction,
thinking that perhaps the bloodthirsty beast might
be at that very moment dragging it away to devour
it,—or hoping, at the least, to light upon some one
who could give me an account of it.

I ran to a place in the edge of the marsh where
were some willow-trees, and an old worm fence,
the latter overgrown with briers and elder-bushes;
and there, to my exceeding surprise, I discovered
the body of Squire Higginson (for he was stone
dead), lying against the fence, which was broken,
his head down, and his heels resting against the
rails, and looking as if, while climbing it, he had
fallen down and broken his neck. His gun was
lying at his side, undischarged, and his dog, whose
yelping had brought me to the spot, was standing
by; but I must add, that, as soon as I approached
him, the animal betrayed as much terror as

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Turnbuckle's dogs had done, and ran howling away in
the same manner.

Greatly incensed as I had been with Squire Higginson,
I felt some concern to see him lying in this
lamentable condition, his face blackened with blood,
as if he had perished from suffocation; and stooping
down, I endeavoured to take off his neckcloth
and raise his head, in the hope that he might yet
recover. But I reckoned without my host,—I had
forgotten that I was a mere phantom or spirit, possessing
no muscular power whatever, because no
muscles; for, even in walking and running, as I
was now aware, I was impelled by some unknown
power within me, and not at all carried by my legs.
I could not bring my hand into contact either with
his cravat or head, and for a good reason, seeing
there was no substance in me whatever, but all
spirit.

I therefore ceased my endeavours, and began to
moralize, in a mournful mood, upon his condition
and mine. He was dead, and so was I; but there
seemed to be this difference between us, namely,
that I had lost my body, and he his soul,—for after
looking hard about me, I could see nothing of it.
His body, as it lay there in the bushes, was perfectly
useless to him, and to all the world beside;
and my spirit, as was clear enough, was in a similar
predicament. Why might I not, that is to say,
my spirit,—deprived by an unhappy accident of its
natural dwelling,—take possession of a tenement
which there remained no spirit to claim, and thus,

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[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

uniting interests together, as two feeble factions
unite together in the political world, become a body
possessing life, strength, and usefulness?

As soon as this idea entered my mind (or me,
for I was all mind), I was seized with the envy
that possessed me when I first met the squire shooting
over my marshes. “How much better it would
be,” I thought, “to inhabit his body than my own!
In my own fleshly casing, I should revive only to
poverty and trouble;” (I had forgot all about Captain
Kid's money) “whereas, if once in the body
of Squire Higginson, I should step out into the
world to possess riches, respect, content, and all
that man covets. Oh that I might be Squire Higginson!”
I cried.

The words were scarce out of my mouth, before
I felt myself vanishing, as it were, into the dead
man's nostrils, into which I—that is to say, my
spirit—rushed like a breeze of air; and the very
next moment I found myself kicking the fence to
pieces in a lusty effort to rise to my feet, and feeling
as if I had just tumbled over it.

“The devil take the fence, and that Jersey kill-deer
that keeps it in such bad order!” I cried, as I
rose up, snatching at my gun, and whistling for my
dog Ponto. My dog Ponto! It was even the
truth; I was no more Sheppard Lee, the poor and
discontented,—no longer a disimbodied spirit, wandering
about only to frighten dogs out of their
senses; but John Hazlewood Higginson, Esq., solid
and substantial in purse and flesh, with a rosy face,

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and a heart as cheerful as the morning, which was
now reddening over the whole east. If I had
wanted any proof of the transformation beyond that
furnished by my own senses and sensations, it would
have been provided by my dog Ponto, who now
came running up, leaping on and about me with
the most extravagant joy.

“God be thanked!” I cried, dancing about as
joyously as the dog; “I am now a respectable
man, with my pockets full of money. Farewell,
then, you poor miserable Sheppard Lee! you ragamuffin!
you poor wretched shote! you half-starved
old sand-field Jersey kill-deer! you vagabond!
you beggar! you Dicky Dout, with the
wrong place in your upper story! you are now a
gentleman and a man of substance, and a happy
dog into the bargain. Ha, ha, ha!” and here I fell
a laughing out of pure joy; and giving my dog
Ponto a buss, as if that were the most natural act
in the world, and a customary way of showing my
satisfaction, I began to stalk towards my old ruined
house, without exactly knowing for what purpose,
but having some vague idea about me, that I would
set old Jim Jumble and his wife Dinah to shouting
and dancing; an amusement I would willingly
have seen the whole world engaged in at that
moment.

-- 069 --

p016-078 CHAPTER XVII. A natural mistake, which, although it procures the Author a rough reception at his own house, has yet the good effect to teach him the propriety of adapting his manners to his condition.

I had not walked twenty yards, before a woodcock
that was feeding on the edge of the marsh
started up from under my nose, when, clapping my
gun to my shoulder, I let fly at him, and down he
came.

“Aha, Ponto!” said I, “when did I ever fail to
bring down a woodcock? Bring it along, Ponto,
you rascal.—Rum-te, ti, ti! rum-te, ti, ti!” and I
went on my way singing for pure joy, without
pausing to recharge, or to bag my game. I reached
my old house, and began to roar out, without reflecting
that I was now something more than Sheppard
Lee, “Hillo! Jim Jumble, you old rascal!
get up and let me in.”

“What you want, hah?” said old Jim, poking
his head from the garret-window of the kitchen,
and looking as sour as a persimmon before frost.
“Guess Massa Squire Higginson drunk, hah?
What you want? S'pose I'm gwyin to git up afo'
sunrise for not'in', and for anybody but my Massa
Sheppard?”

“Why, you old dog,” said I, in a passion, “I am
your master Sheppard; that is, your master John

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Hazlewood Higginson, Esquire; for as for Sheppard
Lee, the Jersey kill-deer, I've finished him,
you rascal; you'll never see him more. So get
down, and let me into the house, or I'll—”

“You will, hah?” said Jim; “you will what?

“I'll shoot you, you insolent scoundrel!” I exclaimed,
in a rage,—as if it were the most natural
thing in the world for me to be in one; and as I
spoke, I raised my piece; when “Bow—wow—
wough!” went my old dog Bull, who had not bitten
a man for two years, but who now rushed from his
kennel under the porch, and seized me by the leg.

“Get out, Bull, you rascal!” said I, but he only
bit the harder; which threw me into such a fury
that I clapped the muzzle of my gun to his side,
and, having one charge remaining, blew him to
pieces.

“Golla-matty!” said old Jim, from the window,
whence he had surveyed the combat; “golla-matty!
shoot old Bull!”

And with that the black villain snatched up the
half of a brick, which I suppose he kept to daunt
unwelcome visiters, and taking aim at me, he cast
it so well as to bring it right against my left ear,
and so tumbled me to the ground. I would have
blown the rascal's brains out, in requital of this assault,
had there been a charge left in my piece, or
had he given me time to reload; but as soon as
he had cast the brick, he ran from the window, and
then reappeared, holding out an old musket that,
I remembered, he kept to shoot wild ducks and

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muskrats in the neighbouring marsh with. Seeing
this formidable weapon, and not knowing but that
the desperado would fire upon me, I was forced to
beat a retreat, which I did in double quick time,
being soon joined by my dog Ponto, who had fled,
like a coward, at the first bow-wough of the bulldog,
and saluted in my flight by the amiable tones
of Dinah, who now thrust her head from the window,
beside Jim's, and abused me as long as I
could hear.

-- 072 --

p016-081 BOOK II. CONTAINING SUNDRY ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE ADVANTAGES OF GOOD LIVING, WITH A FEW CHAPTERS ON DOMESTIC FELICITY. CHAPTER I. Some passages in the life of John H. Higginson, Esq. , the happy sportsman; with a surprising affliction that befell the Author.

I went off in a towering rage, to think of the reception
I had met, and that too after an absence of
a whole night. I had been bitten by my own dog,
and driven from my own doors by my own servants!
But there was something in these circumstances to
admonish me of the change that had come over
me. They reminded me of a fact that was not
always present to my thoughts,—to wit, that I was
no longer Sheppard Lee, but Mr. John Hazlewood
Higginson, a very different sort of personage altogether.

To account for my forgetfulness of this important
transformation, I must relate that, although I
had acquired along with his body all the peculiarities
of feeling, propensity, conversation, and conduct
of Squire Higginson, I had not entirely lost
those that belonged to Sheppard Lee. In fact, I

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[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

may be said to have possessed, at that time, two
different characters, one of which now governed
me, and now the other; though the squire's, it must
be confessed, was greatly predominant. Thus, the
moment after the transformation, I found myself
endowed with a passion for shooting, as if I had
had it all my life long, a buoyant tone of mind, and,
in addition, as I by-and-by discovered, with some.
what a hot temper; none of which had ever been
known to me before. The difficulty was, that I
could not immediately shake off my old Sheppard
Lee habits; and the influence of these, perhaps (if
one must scrutinize into the matter), more than the
absolute retention of any other native peculiarities,
drove me into the inconsistencies of which I was
for a short time guilty. But I will not trouble the
reader with philosophizing.

I perceived, from the repulse I had received from
Jim Jumble, that it now became me to sink his old
master altogether, which I was very well content
to do, and resolved accordingly; although I could
not help thinking, as I strode over the forty-acre
farm, how much satisfaction I should have, now
that I was a rich man, in putting it into fine order.
But these thoughts were soon driven from my mind
by Ponto making a set at some game, and in a moment
I was banging away, right and left, and slaughtering
the birds in the finest style imaginable.

Oh, the delights of shooting woodcock! It is
rather hot work, though, of a midsummer day; and
notwithstanding the prodigious satisfaction I had

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in pursuing the sport, I felt that my satisfaction
would have been still greater, had I been a few
stone lighter. I began to think Squire Higginson's
fat rather inconvenient; and I had the same opinion
of a touch of asthma, or something of that nature,
which I found in his lungs; and, besides, there
was a sort of whizzing, and humming, and spinning
in my head, where they had been all the morning,
which were not altogether agreeable.

In consequence of these infirmities of my new
body, I began, after a while, to weary of the sport;
and was just on the point of setting off to the village
to get my dinner, when a crowd of men made their
appearance in the marsh, and setting up a great
shout at sight of me, began to run towards me. I
could not conceive the cause of such a concourse,
nor could I imagine for what reason they directed
their steps towards me; but hearing them utter the
most furious cries, and perceiving that a multitude
of dogs they had with them were rushing against
me, as if to devour me, I was seized with alarm,
and began to retreat towards a wood that was not
far off.

This evidence of terror on my part only caused
the people to utter louder and more savage cries,
besides setting the dogs to running faster; and these
ferocious animals gaining upon me, and being on
the point of tearing me to pieces, I was obliged to
let fly my piece among them, whereby I shot one
dead, and disabled two or three others. I then defended
myself with the breech of my gun, until the

-- 075 --

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men came up; one of whom tripped up my heels,
while the others seized and disarmed me, crying
out “that I was a murderer; that I was found out,
and should be hanged, if there was any law in the
county.”

I was confounded at this charge; but how much
greater was my amazement, when I understood, as
they haled me along towards the village, which
they did very roughly, that I was accused of having
murdered Sheppard Lee—that is, my own
identical self!

This accusation appeared to me so preposterous,
that in spite of my indignation (for my fears
had now subsided), I burst into a laugh; which
only made them rail at me more furiously than
I can express. “Hear him!” said they; “he
laughs! He thinks, because he is a rich man, he
can shoot any poor man he pleases, and buy himself
off. But we will show him there's law in
Jersey for aristocrats as well as poor men, and
that we can hang a purse-proud man as soon as a
beggar.”

And so they went on reviling me as if I had
been the greatest criminal in the land, and dragging
me, as they said, to a squire, who would soon
show me what law was.

I tried to reason with them, but it was all in
vain; I then fell into a passion, and cursed and
swore at them in a way which I am certain I
never did before at any human being; having
always had, while Sheppard Lee, a great horror of

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[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

profanity; but this was just as fruitless an expedient
as the other. They dragged me on until we
reached the village, where we found all in a
hubbub, men, women, and children running about
as if mad, and exclaiming that “Squire Higginson
had murdered Sheppard Lee, and hid the body in
the Owl-roost Swamp.” As soon as they saw
me they set up a shout, and some low fellows
among them raged in such a degree that I thought
they would have massacred me in the street.
They crowded round me, hustled me, seized me
by the collar, shook their fists in my face, and,
in general, testified such a vindictive concern for
the murder of poor Sheppard Lee, as they called
him, that I might have supposed there was never
a man more widely beloved than myself, had I
not known otherwise—or, rather, had I not been
too closely occupied to suppose any thing about it.

In a word, they carried me before Squire Andrew
Parkins, who was a fat man that I heartily
despised; and here they called upon him for justice,
while I did the same thing, swearing that I
would prosecute every rascal of them for assault
and battery, conspiracy, defamation, and the Lord
knows what beside; all of which, it seems, only
inflamed the mob against me the more. They
charged me with the murder, and the evidence they
brought to support the charge appeared to Justice
Parkins sufficient to authorize his issuing a mittimus.
There were twenty persons to swear I had,
two or three days before, acknowledged having

-- 077 --

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

had a quarrel with Sheppard Lee on his farm—
that is, the forty-acre—and that he had ordered me
off; and there were twenty more to swear I was a
man of such a hot and furious temper, that it was
a wonder I had not shot the poor man down on the
spot. Then came old Turnbuckle and his son,
who swore that the ghost of Sheppard Lee had
come to them in the gray of the morning, calling
for help, and assuring them that he (or his body)
lay murdered under the beech-tree in the hollow;
that as soon as the phantom had vanished, and they
recovered from their fears, they roused the neighbours,
and sending some to my house, who learned
I had not been at home all night, the others proceeded
to the hollow, where they found a freshly-dug
grave, with spade and mattock in it, and near
it they lit upon my hat and one of my shoes, which
latter was bloody, as well as the grass on which
it lay; that then, looking round them, they discovered
me (that is, John Higginson), sneaking
away through the reeds on the marsh in a suspicious
way; that at that moment old Jim Jumble
was brought forward, who said I (John Hazlewood
Higginson) had come to the house, shot his
bulldog, threatened to blow his brains out, and
bragged that I had just finished, or, in other words,
murdered his master, Sheppard Lee; and, finally,
that this confirming the suspicions they all had
against me, they pursued me (I retreating and
shooting their dogs, like a man conscious of guilt,

-- 078 --

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

and anxious to escape), and captured me, not without
a furious resistance on my part.

On the strength of this testimony I was committed
to jail, whither I was conducted amid the
shouts of the mob. Squire Parkins (doubtless to
beg off as well as he could) afterward privately
assured me, that he had committed me to prison,
not from any belief that I was guilty, or that the
testimony really warranted such a step, but because
he was afraid the people would otherwise
murder me, and considered that the only way to
protect me from their violence.

Meanwhile, there was a great search made for
my—that is, Sheppard Lee's—body; the general
belief being that I—that is, John H. Higginson—
had cast it into the swamp, after having been at
the pains to dig a grave, wherein I at first designed
to hide it; and I do verily believe that, had my
unfortunate old casing been found, I should have
begun my new existence in the body of the man
I had so much envied by being hanged for the
murder. Its sudden disappearance was therefore
not more extraordinary than it was really fortunate.

-- 079 --

p016-088 CHAPTER II. The Author, being in prison, makes a confidant of a deputy Attorney-General. — The inconvenience of telling a truth which happens to be somewhat incredible.

My wrath gave way when I found myself in
prison; and hearing from the jailer that the grand
jury was then in session, and the prosecuting attorney
actually engaged in framing a bill of endictment
against me, to send up to its members, I began
to think the matter rather serious, and resolved
to end it before it proceeded further.

I had already experienced the ill effects of attempting
to sustain the character of Sheppard Lee
while in the body of another man, and for this
reason was resolved to be more cautious for the future;
but I now perceived I had no better way of
relieving myself of my troubles than by making
the prosecutor, who had been an old friend of
mine, and had always treated me with respect,
acquainted with my transformation; after which, I
had no doubt, he would throw his bill of endictment
into the fire. I sent for him accordingly; but was
obliged to repeat the message before he thought
fit to make his appearance.

“You have perhaps made a mistake, Mr. Higginson,”
said he, as he entered. “You have occasion
for counsel, but none that I can imagine for

-- 080 --

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

me; for as to my giving you any advice in this unfortunate
affair—”

“The devil take the affair,” said I, in no amiable
voice; “it was to get rid of it entirely that I sent
for you; for I must stop that cursed endictment of
yours. I don't want it said of me hereafter that I
was once in my life endicted for a felony.”

“Oh, sir,” said he, with a smile, “we are in no
hurry about these things; the bill will lie over till
we can procure a little more evidence, and some of
a better quality. Don't be in any alarm; but allow
me to recommend you to employ counsel. My
friend Sharphead, I think, will be your best man.”

“I don't want any counsel,” said I, “and Sharphead
may go to the devil; I want to confide to you
the true secret of this extraordinary affair.”

“Faith, sir,” said he, looking at me in surprise,
“if you can do that, the case is not so ridiculous
as I thought. Really, Mr. Higginson, I was rather
amused than otherwise at the charge brought
against you, not supposing you knew any thing of,
or had any connexion whatever with, the disappearance
of poor Sheppard Lee. But, since you talk
of secrets, sir, I must inform you, I am not the
person you should make any confessions to. I
must again recommend you to employ counsel.”

And with that he was about leaving me, but I
arrested him. “Stop, Jack,” said I (his name was
John Darling, and he is very well known in the
state, though he was turned out of office), “you and I
are old friends, and we must have a talk together.”

-- 081 --

[figure description] Page 081.[end figure description]

At these words he gave me a hard stare, looking
more astonished than ever.

“Jack,” said I, taking him by the hand, “I'll
make you stare harder than that. Sheppard Lee
is no more dead than I am; though, as for his body,
I believe Old Nick has got it. Now, my boy, I
take it you will act as a friend in this matter, and
not blab my secret: but the truth is, it is John H.
Higginson who is dead, and I who am living.”

“The deuse it is!” said the lawyer, whose
amazement set me into a capital humour. “And
pray, sir,” he added, “if John H. Higginson is
dead, who are you?

“Sheppard Lee!” said I, bursting into a laugh,
“only that you see me now in John H. Higginson's
body.”

I then proceeded to inform him, as I have informed
the reader, of my digging for the treasure,
of my sudden death, of the visit of my spirit to old
Turnbuckle's, of the disappearance of my body, of
my finding and entering that of Squire Higginson,
in which he now saw me, and, in fine, of all the
other circumstances connected with the transformation;
all which he heard like a man whom the
novelty of the relation astounded into marble.

“Upon my soul,” said he, when I had done, “you
have told me a most surprising story. And so you
really think yourself Sheppard Lee—that is, Sheppard
Lee's spirit in Squire Higginson's body?”

Think myself, sir!” said I, a little fiercely.

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“Do you presume to slight my veracity, sir? or to
doubt my common sense?”

“By no means,” said he; “I have the utmost
respect for both. Your story has completely satisfied
me of your innocence. A most wonderful
story, sir! truly, a most wonderful story!” And
repeating these words over and over again, he fell
to nodding his head and musing, staring at me all
the time, like one who is lost in wonder; and then
suddenly rousing up, he burst into a roar of laughter.
Seeing that I was incensed at his merriment,
he hastened to apologize, declaring that he was not
laughing at my story, but at the absurdity he had
been so nigh committing in endicting me for my
own murder; and he added, that my relation was
altogether the most remarkable he had ever heard
in his life.

I then gave him to understand, I expected, for
very good and obvious reasons, that he would keep
the story to himself; which he faithfully promised.
He then fell to cross-questioning me in relation to
different points; and he was particularly curious
to know what I supposed had become of my body;
when, not being able to satisfy him on that point,
he himself suggested that perhaps Squire Higginson's
spirit had taken possession of it, as I had done
with his, and carried it off for some purpose or
other, and that we should soon have news of him;
an idea that was so agreeable to him, that he fell
to laughing as hard as ever. “Sir,” said he, shaking
me by the hand in excellent good-humour,

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“we will soon have you out of this dog-hole, and
that without betraying your secret. Heaven forbid
I should spoil the good fortune of my old friend
Sheppard Lee! No, sir, I am no tale-bearer, or
blabber of secrets. Comfort yourself, sir; I never
had the least idea of endicting you on this absurd
charge. Nobody believes Sheppard Lee has been
murdered by you, nor, indeed, by any one else.
No, poor devil! the general opinion now is, that
he has taken himself off, to get clear of duns and
sheriffs; and as for the bloody shoe and hat, why
that's a common way of turning pursuers off the
scent, by throwing dust in their eyes. The charge
will be abandoned, sir; you will be liberated, and
may, if you like such amusement, prosecute your
captors by the dozen for assault and battery. Farewell,
Mr. Higginson,—that is, Mr. Lee; fortune
smiles upon you at last; and you are a happy,—a
wonderful man, sir.—Farewell!”

The attorney then left me; and so much diverted
was he by my adventure, that I could hear him
indulge peal after peal of mirth, until he had got
out of the prison.

Now it may be supposed that my story, from its
reasonableness, carried conviction to the attorney's
mind; and so I was persuaded. But I reckoned
without my host; the hypocritical gentleman did
not believe a word of it, however much he pretended
to do so. But in this he was like the rest
of the fraternity: I never, indeed, knew a lawyer
to believe any thing unless he was paid for it; and

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I forgot to present my gentleman a fee. My story,
therefore, not being paid for, or proved according
to law, only convinced this skeptical person that I—
“the unfortunate Higginson,” as he called me—
had suddenly lost my senses, and gone staring
mad; and in consequence, disregarding all his
promises of secrecy, he ran over the whole village,
diverting every one he could lay hands on with an
account of “the poor squire's hallucination,” as he
termed it—that is to say, his conceit that his body
was now inhabited by the soul of Sheppard Lee.

But to give a certain personage his due, or one
of that personage's representatives, I must confess
that Darling, who was at bottom a good-natured
fellow, recollected one part of his promise, and
took measures to effect my discharge from prison;
which was no very difficult matter, people being
now pretty well aware of the folly of the charge
they had brought against me, and the absurdity of
the evidence designed to support it. The opinion
was already entertained that poor Sheppard Lee,
instead of being murdered, had taken himself out
of the neighbourhood to avoid his creditors, having
left his hat and shoe in the swamp only as blinds
to those who might be most anxious to secure his
person; and pursuers had already left the village
to discover his place of concealment.

-- 085 --

p016-094 CHAPTER III. Sheppard Lee is visited by new friends, released from prison, and carried to his new place of abode.

Another service that the attorney did me, according
to the jailer, through whom I discovered
all these things, was to despatch a messenger to
my friends in Philadelphia, with the news of my
insanity and imprisonment, and a request that they
should send proper persons to take charge of me
after being liberated: and I was roused the following
morning by the appearance of some half a
dozen kinsmen who had come to the village for
that purpose, fully persuaded that they should find
me a raging lunatic.

But the jailer's information had set me to reflecting
upon my difficulties, all of which, as I clearly
perceived, were owing to my indiscretion in attempting
to keep up the character of Sheppard
Lee while in another man's body. I saw the
necessity I was now placed under to be Mr. John
H. Higginson, and nobody else, for the future;
and so I resolved to be—for I did not like the idea
of being clapped into a mad-house by my new
friends.

Yet they took me so much by surprise that I
was guilty of some few inconsistencies; for it was

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not immediately that I felt myself at case in my
new character.

The truth is, my situation was peculiar and
embarrassing. With the body of Mr. Higginson,
I had acquired all his distinctive peculiarities,
as I mentioned before. But many of these were
in a manner stupified within me, and required to
be renewed, or resuscitated, by processes of association.
I was like a man who has been roused
from a lethargy, which had destroyed or obscured
his memory, though not his instincts; and who
betrays complete ignorance of past events, and
forgetfulness of old friends, until some accidental
circumstance—a casual reference to some past
event, the tone of a voice, or other such cause—
recalls him, it may be, to sudden and complete,
though usually imperfect, consciousness.

Thus, when I was roused up in the morning,
and beheld a good-looking personage of about my
own years shaking me by the shoulder, I regarded
him only as some impertinent stranger intruding
upon my privacy, saluted him with divers epithets
expressive of rage and indignation, and concluded
by asking him “who the devil he was?”

“What! I?” said he, with the most doleful
visage in the world; “why, Timothy—that is,
Tim Doolittle, your brother-in-law—Don't you
know me?”

And “Don't you know me? and me? and me?
your cousin, Tom This, and your old friend, Dick
That?” cried they all, with horrible long faces; the

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oddity of which after a while set me a laughing,
especially when I came to recollect them all, as I
did by-and-by when they had pronounced their
names; for at each name it seemed to me as if a
film fell from my eyes, and some spirit within
awakened me to a vague recollection of the person
to whom it belonged. In a word, I became
aware that I was surrounded by a knot of my oldest
and best friends, all of them excellent jolly
dogs and good fellows, who were come to escort
me home, and assured me that I was no longer a
prisoner.

I shook them all by the hand, and contrasting
for a moment in my mind the melancholy condition
in which I had lived as Sheppard Lee, with
my present glorious state, surrounded by friends,
and conscious of possessing lands, houses, stocks,
Schuylkill coal-mines, and the Lord knows what
other goods beside, I fell into a rapture, danced
about my cell, and hugged every person present,
as well as the jailer, and my old friend Darling, the
attorney, who happened at that moment to enter.

“Bravo!” said Tim Doolittle; “now you're the
true Jack Higginson again; and I don't believe
you are mad a bit.”

“Mad!” said I, thinking it needful to explain
away that imputation, “No, and I never was. I
tumbled over an old rotten fence, and hurt my
head, which was, in consequence, in a whiz all
day yesterday; but now it is clear enough. I
think I said some silly things about one thing and
another; but that's neither here nor there.”

-- 088 --

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“Ah!” said Tim Doolittle, touching his forehead
and looking as grave as a bullfrog, “it's well
it's no worse; for I always thought you had a
turn for apoplexy. But I'm glad you are so well;
it will be good news for poor Margaret.”

“Margaret! who the deuse is she?” said I,
feeling quite strange at the name.

“Why, my poor sister, your wife, to be sure,”
said he.

My wife!!! I recollected that I had a wife;
but the recollection made me feel, I knew not exactly
why, as if I had been suddenly soused into
cold water. It was a highly uncomfortable idea,
and accordingly I hastened to get rid of it.

“Let us leave this confounded place,” I said;
and we left the prison.

The prospect of a fine sunshiny day infused animation
into my mind, which was vastly increased
when I stepped into a splendid new barouche, with
a pair of bay horses worth a thousand dollars—for
so much Tim gave me to understand I—that is to
say, my prototype—had given for them scarce
a month before—the whole establishment being
therefore my own! “What a happy man am I!
Ah! poor miserable Sheppard Lee! Farewell
now to poverty! farewell to discontent!”

Such were my secret ejaculations as we set out
in my splendid barouche, followed by a train of gigs
and carriages that contained my friends. I esteemed
myself the happiest man in the world;
and I gave my last sigh to the memory of Sheppard
Lee.

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[figure description] Page 089.[end figure description]

What a glorious time we had of it on our way
to Philadelphia! I found myself the richest man
in the company—my pocketbook was full of
bank-notes—and I resolved to give my friends a
blow-out. We stopped at a certain village, and at a
certain hotel therein, the master of which prepares
the best dinners, and has the best butt of genuine
Madeira, in all New-Jersey. “Let us rest and rejoice,”
I said, “and we will drive into town after
nightfall.”

My friends agreed; we ate, drank, and were
merry; and it was not until after sunrise the next
morning that we found ourselves in Philadelphia,
and in my—yes, excellent reader—in my house in
Chestnut-street, south side, two doors from the
corner of— But it is needless to be particular.
The house is yet standing, in a highly aristocratic
neighbourhood, and is not yet converted
into a dry-goods shop.

I reached my house: I— But before I relate
what befell me in that splendid pile of red bricks,
which, like its neighbours, seems to be blushing
all the year round at its naked simplicity, I must
say a few words more of Sheppard Lee.

-- 090 --

p016-099 CHAPTER IV. Containing illustrations of the advantages of dying an unusual death, in times of high political excitement.

I never felt the slightest inclination to revisit
the scenes of my late trouble and discontent; but
the newspapers, which are the lights of the age,
though occasionally somewhat smoky, acquainted
me with the events that followed after my marvellous
disappearance. “What has become of Sheppard
Lee?” was the cry, after his creditors had
sought for him in vain during a space of two
weeks and more. No vestige of him was discovered,
not the slightest clew to indicate his fate,
beyond those already brought to light in the Owlroost.
It was impossible he could have fled without
leaving some traces; and none were found.
“And why should he fly?” men at last began to
ask. He was in debt, it was true; but what could
he gain by absconding, since his little property
was necessarily left behind him?

In a word, the improbabilities of his having voluntarily
fled were so great, that men began to
recur to their original idea of his having been
murdered. But why was he murdered? and by
whom? Some few began to revive the charges
against me—that is to say, against John H. Higginson;
but brighter ideas were struck out, and

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[figure description] Page 091.[end figure description]

John H. Higginson was forgotten. An old friend
of mine, who never cared a fig for me, but who
was ambitious to create a tumult, and become the
leader of a party, got up in a public place, and
recounted the history of William Morgan, and his
mysterious abduction and murder by the masons
of the empire state. A terrible agitation at once
seized his listeners. “Poor, dear, unfortunate
Sheppard Lee!” they cried; “the masons have
Morganized him, for apostatizing from his oaths,
and revealing the secrets of the society! Yes,
he has been Morganized!” And, giving way to
their rage, they were on the point of tarring and
feathering all the free-masons they could lay their
hands on; when, presto—as the conjurers say,
they suddenly made discovery that the masons
could not have murdered me for divulging secrets,
inasmuch as I had never known them, nor for apostatizing,
as I had never been a mason in my life.

But the tumult was not allowed to subside.
My old friends of the administration, finding that
their strength was dwindling away in the country,
and dreading the event of the coming election, unless
a reaction could be got up in their favour,
suddenly burst into a fury, swore that I had been
made away with by the opposition, on account
of my remarkable zeal, energy, and success, as
an electioneerer and political missionary; and
taking my old hat and shoe, and carrying them
round the village in solemn procession, they stopped
in the market-place, where one of their chief

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[figure description] Page 092.[end figure description]

orators—my faithful friend, the new postmaster—
delivered a sort of funeral address, in which he
compared the opponents of the administration to
cut-throats and cannibals, pronounced them the
enemies of liberty, swore that no honest patriot was
safe among them, and declared—his declaration
being illustrated by shouts, and groans, and grim
faces—that I had perished, “the.victim of a murderous
opposition!”

But, as if that was not immortality enough for
one of my humble pretensions, the opposition
instantly turned the tables upon their accusers.
Witnesses stepped forward to prove that, on the
night when I was seen for the last time, I had, in
the bar-room of the first hotel in the village, publicly
denounced the hurrah party, as being based
upon deception and fraud, and avowed my determination
not only instantly to leave it, but to go
my death thenceforth in opposition. “See the
bloody vindictiveness and malice of the hurrah
party!” they cried; “before the sun rose upon
this unfortunate and honest man—honest, because
he deserted his party the moment his eyes were
opened to its corruption—he was a living man no
longer. The bravoes of this horrible gang of mid-night
murderers, who have trampled on our rights
and liberties, and now trample on our lives, met
the unlucky patriot as he returned to his lowly
cot, and—just Heavens!—where was he now, save
in his bloody and untimely grave? he, the humble,
the unoffending, the honest, the

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[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

universally-esteemed, the widely-beloved, the patriotic Sheppard Lee!—
waylaid and ambushed! killed, slain, murdered,
massacred! the victim of a despotic and vindictive
cabal,—the martyr of liberty, the—” In short,
the noblest, honestest, dearest, best, and most illused
creature that ever dabbled in the puddle of
politics. One might suppose that this outcry of
the antis, backed as it was by the full proof of my
change of politics, would have stopped the mouths
of the hurrah-boys. But it did no such thing;
they only raved the louder. As for the proof of my
backsliding, they treated that with contempt; proofs
being as little regarded in politics as arguments.
They accused the antis more zealously than before;
and the antis recriminated with equal enthusiasm.

There were some men in the village who strove
to appease the ferment, by directing suspicion upon
the German doctor, and divers other personages,
just as the humour of suspicion seized them, furiously
accusing these suspected individuals of having
had some hand in the catastrophe. But the
German doctor and the other persons accused had
nothing to do with politics, and were therefore
suffered to go their ways. It is a great protection
to one's reputation to keep clear of politics. The
guilt of my murder was left to be borne by the
hurrah-boys and the antis, one party or the
other; but as the evidence was equally strong
against either party, and just as strong against any
one individual of either party as another, it resulted

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p016-103 [figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

that I was murdered not only by both parties, but
by every man of both parties;—a peculiarity in
my history that proved me to have possessed,
though I never dreamed it before, a vaster number
both of energetic friends and bloodthirsty enemies
(each man being both friend and enemy) than any
other man in the whole world.

How the antis and the hurrah-boys settled the
affair among them, I did not care to inquire. I
was engrossed by the novelties and charms of a
new being, and willing to forget that such a poor
devil as Sheppard Lee had ever existed.

CHAPTER V. The true meaning of the word Podagra.

Let the reader judge of my transport, when my
elegant new barouche and splendid pair of horses,
that cost me a thousand dollars, drew up before my
house in Chestnut-street. I stood upon the kerbstone
and surveyed it from top to bottom. The
marble of the steps, basement, and window-sills
was white as snow, and the bricks were redder
than roses. The windows were of plate glass, and
within them were curtains of crimson damask,
fronted with hangings of white lace, as fine and
lovely as a bride's veil of true Paris blonde; and
a great bouquet of dahlias, wreathed around a

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[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

blooming rose, glittered in each. It was evidently
the house of a man of wealth and figure.

The neighbourhood, it was equally manifest,
was of the highest vogue and distinction: on one
side was the dwelling of a fashionable tailor, who
built a house out of every ten coats that he cut;
on the other side was the residence of a retired
tavern-keeper; and right opposite, on the other
side of the street, was the mansion of one of the
first aristocrats in the town, who had had neither a
tailor nor a tavern-keeper in the family for a space
of three full generations. There was no end to
the genteel people in my neighbourhood; here
was the house of a firstrate lawyer, there of a
shop-keeper who had not sold any thing by retail
for ten years; here a Cræsus of a carpenter who
turned up his nose at the aristocrat, and there a
Plutus of a note-shaver who looked with contempt
on the gentleman of chips. In short, my house
was in a highly fashionable neighbourhood; and I
felt, as I mounted my marble steps, that Jack Higginson,
the brewer (as my brother Tim always
called me), was as genteel a fellow among them as
you would find of a summer's day.

I entered the house as proud as Lucifer, telling
my friends that they should crack a bottle or two
of my best port; for Tim had given me a hint
that my cellar contained some of the best in the
world. “And,” said Tim, giving me a wink,
“we may take our fun now, as sister Margaret—”
at that name I felt a cold creeping in my bones—

-- 096 --

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

“as sister Margaret is still in the country.” The
ague left me—“I did not think it,” he continued,
“worth while to alarm her.”

“The Lord be thanked!” said I; though why I
said it, I knew no more than the man in the moon.

We sat down, we drank, and we made merry—
that is to say, they made merry: as for myself, a
circumstance occurred which nipped my pleasure
in the bud, and began to make me doubt whether,
in exchanging the condition of Sheppard Lee for
that of John H. Higginson, I had not made some-what
of a bad bargain.

I had managed, somehow or other, in the course
of the night, to stump my toe, or wrench my foot;
and, though the accident caused me but little inconvenience
at the time, the member had begun gradually
to feel uneasy; and now, as I sat at my
table, it grew so painful that I was forced to draw
off my boot. But this giving me little relief, and
finding that my foot was swollen out of all shape
and beauty, my brother Tim pronounced it a severe
strain, and recommended that I should call in my
family physician, Dr. Boneset, a very illustrious
man, and fine fellow, who at that moment chanced
to drive by in his coal-black gig, which looked, as
physicians' gigs usually look, as if in mourning for
a thousand departed patients.

“What's the matter?” said the doctor.

“Why, doctor,” said I, “I have given my foot
a confounded wrench; I scarce know how; but it
is as big and as hot as a plum-pudding.”

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[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]

“Hum, ay!—very unlucky,” said the doctor:
“off with your stocking, and let me look at your
tongue. Pulse quite feverish. Fine port!” he
said, drinking off a glass that Tim had poured him,
and cocking his eye like one who means to be
witty, “fine port, sir; but one can't float in it for
ever without paying port-charges. A very gentlemanly
disease, at all events. It lies between port
and porter.”

“Port and porter! disease!” said I, slipping off
my stocking as he directed, without well knowing
what he meant. My foot was as red as a salamander,
swelled beyond all expression, and, while
I drew the stocking, it hurt me most horribly.

“Zounds doctor!” said I, “can that be a
wrench?”

“No,” said the doctor, “it's the wrencher—genuine
podagra, 'pon honour.”

“Podagra!” said I; “Podagra!” said Tim; and
“Podagra!” said the others. “What's that?”

“Gout!” said the doctor.

“Gout!” cried my friends; “Gout!!” roared
my brother Tim; and “Gout!!!” yelled I, starting
from the doctor as if from an imp of darkness
who had just come to make claim to me. It was
the unluckiest leap in the world; I kicked over a
chair as I started, and the touch was as if I had
clapped my foot into the jaws of a roaring lion.
Crunch went every bone; crack went every sinew;
and such a yell as I set up was never before heard
in Chestnut-street.

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[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

“You see, gentlemen—(I'll take another glass
of that port, Mr. Doolittle)—you see what we must
all come to! This is one of the small penalties
one must pay for being a gentleman; when one
dances, one must pay the piper. Now would my
friend Higginson there give a whole year of his
best brewing, that all the pale ale and purple port
that have passed his lips had been nothing better
than elder-wine and bonny-clabber. But never
mind, my dear sir,” said the son of Æsculapius,
with a coolness that shocked me; “as long as it's
only in your foot, it's a small matter.”

“A small matter!”—I grinned at him; but the
unfeeling wretch only repeated his words—“A
small matter!”

I had never been sick before in my life. As
John H. Higginson, my worst complaints had been
only an occasional surfeit, or a moderate attack of
booziness; and as Sheppard Lee, I had never
known any disease except laziness, which, being
chronic, I had grown so accustomed to that it
never troubled me. But now, ah, now! my first
step into the world of enjoyment was to be made
on red-hot ploughshares and pokers; my first hour
of a life of content was to be passed in grinning, and
groaning, and—but it is hardly worth while to say it.
The gout should be confined to religious people;
for men of the world will swear, and that roundly.

For six days—six mortal days—did I lay upon
my back, enduring such horrible twitches and
twinges in my foot, that I was more than once on

-- 099 --

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

the point of ordering the doctor to cut it off; and I
do not know how far that conceit might have gone,
had not the heartless fellow, who, I believe, was
all the while making game of my torments, assured
me that the only effect of the dismemberment
would be to drive the enemy into the other foot,
where it would play the same tricks over again.
“The gout,” said he, “has as great an affection
for the human body as a cat has for a house in
which she has been well treated. When it once
effects a lodgment, and feels itself comfortable—”

“Comfortable!” said I, with a groan.

“In good easy quarters—”

“Don't talk to me of easy quarters,” said I; “for
if I were hacked into quarters, and that by the clumsiest
butcher in the town, I could not be more uneasy
in every quarter.”

“I am talking,” said Dr. Boneset, “not of you,
but of the disease; and what I meant to say was,
that when it once finds itself at home, in a good
wholesome corporation of a man, there you may
expect to find it a tenant for life.”

“For life!” said I. “I am the most wretched
man in existence. Oh, Sheppard Lee! Sheppard
Lee! what a fool were you to think yourself miserable!
—Doctor, I shall go mad!”

“Not while you have the gout,” said he; “'tis
a sovereign protection against all that.—But let us
look at your foot.” And the awkward or malicious
creature managed to drop a tortoise and gold snuff-box,
of about a pound and a half weight, which he

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p016-109 [figure description] Page 100.[end figure description]

was always sporting, right upon the point of my
great toe, while he was looking at it. Had it been
a ton and a half instead of a pound and a half in
weight, it could not have thrown me into greater
torture; and the—the man!—he thought he had
settled the matter by making me a handsome apology!
He left me to endure my pangs, and to curse
Squire Higginson's father, grandfather, great-grandfather,
and, in general, all his forefathers, who had
entailed such susceptible great toes upon the family.
In a word, I was in such a horrible quandary,
that I wished the devil would fly off with my new
body, as he had done before with the old.

CHAPTER VI. Sheppard Lee's introduction to his wife, and his suspicion that all is not gold that glistens.

But there is, as philosophers say, an unguent for
every wound, a solace for every care; and it was
my fate to experience the consolation that one provides
beforehand against the gout, as well as all
other ills man may anticipate, in the person of a
faithful spouse. On the fourth day of my malady,
and just at a moment when I was fairly yelling with
pain, a lady, neither young nor beautiful, but dressed
like a princess, save that her shoes were down
at heel, and her bonnet somewhat awry, stepped
up to my bedside, seized me by the hand, and

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[figure description] Page 101.[end figure description]

crying out, “Oh my poor dear husband!” burst
into tears.

Her appearance acted like a charm; even my
foot, that seemed to be roasting over one of Nott's
patent anthracite blazers, grew cool and comfortable
in the chill that was diffused over my whole
body. Complaint was silent at the sight of her;
pain vanished at her touch; I forgot that I had the
gout, and remembered only that I had a wife.

I was struck dumb, and presume I should not
have groaned again for twenty-four hours, had not
my consort, in the exuberance of her affection and
grief, thrown her arms around my neck, and thereby
brought the whole weight of her body upon my
foot, which, after having tried all parts of the bed,
I had at last lodged upon the very extremity of the
feathers; by which act of endearment my poor
unfortunate limb was crushed against the horrible
log of mahogany that made one side of the bed-stead,
and ground to pieces. Had my wife been
my wife twenty times over, I must have uttered
just as loud a cry as I did, and repeated it just as
often.

She started up, and regarded me with severity.

“Is that the way you use me?” said she.—I believe
I had rather pushed her away; but how could
I help it?—“Is that the way you welcome me
home, whither I have come,—leaving kinsfolk and
friends,—to nurse you? Barbarous man, you hate
me! yes, and besides having no longer any love
for me, you have not even the slightest regard for

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my feelings. But don't think, Mr. Higginson, that
I will be treated so any longer; you may break my
heart,—your poor Margaret's heart,—if you will,
but—but—” And here the affectionate creature
was so overcome that she could not utter another
word, but sat down wringing her hands and weeping
as if I had broken her heart, and she had not
crushed my foot! But, as far as my experience
enables me to form any opinion on such a subject,
I must say, that wives have an extraordinary knack
at turning the tables on their husbands.

“For Heaven's sake, madam,” said I, “don't set
me distracted;”—the pain and her absurd reproaches
together made me both frantic and ferocious—
“don't make me believe that Adam's wife was
made out of the bone of a gouty leg, instead of a
good sound rib.”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” said Mrs.
Higginson.

“Only,” said I, gritting my teeth, “that I have
some thoughts she must have been a piece of the
sorest bone in his body.”

My wife marched up to the bed, and looked me
in the face. My wrath went out like a gas-light
before a black frost; my agonies again disappeared.
There was no standing that look, unless one could
stand the look of a Jersey black-snake, famous beyound
all other snakes for its powers of fascination.
And, talking of snakes, I must add, that, while my
wife gave me that look, I felt as if one, just turned
out of winter-quarters, horribly cold and creepy,

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were slipping down my back. She looked at me
with mingled anger and disdain.

“How often have I told you, Mr. Higginson,”
she said, “never to attempt to be witty, since you
only expose your folly—I won't use any harder
word. And whatever you do, sir,” she added, beginning
to cry again, “don't make a jest of your
wife, sir. You're always doing it, sir; you're always
making me appear ridiculous to your friends
and to myself; you treat me as if I were a fool—
you—”

“Madam,” said I, endeavouring to appease her
a little, for I was quite overcome by her violence,
“remember that I have the gout, and am suffering
the—”

“Yes!” she cried; “and you are determined
that everybody else shall suffer as well as yourself,
and me in particular. Oh, Mr. Higginson! how
can you use me so? I'll never speak to you another
word!”

And down she sat again, weeping and wringing
her hands harder than ever, and moping and whining
the Lord knows how long.

“Sheppard Lee! Sheppard Lee!” I muttered
(but I took good care not to mutter aloud), “you
were not the most miserable dog in the world by a
great deal. A gouty constitution and a perverse
wife are—oh! pangs and purgatory!”

I hoped my consort, being so greatly incensed,
would take herself out of the room, when I determined,
though it should cost me a howl for every

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step, to get up and lock the door on her, come of it
what might; but she was not of that mind. She
maintained her seat, sobbing and sighing, and, by
taking off her hat and flinging it pettishly into a
corner, made it manifest that she had determined
to nurse me in earnest, though in a way entirely
of her own. Happily, the paroxysm of suffering,
which was at its height when she entered, soon
subsided; and being left greatly exhausted, and
her sobs having somewhat of a soporific quality, I
managed, notwithstanding my mental disquiet, to
fall fast asleep; whereby I got rid for a time of an
evil in many respects equal to the gout itself.

Two days after I was able to leave my bed,
though not to walk: had I been, I am strongly of
opinion I should have walked out of my house—
out of the city of Philadelphia—and perhaps out
of the United States of America—nay, and upon a
pinch, out of the world itself, to get rid of my
beloved wife. Who would have believed in our
village, that John H. Higginson, who seemed to
have nothing in the world to do but to slaughter
woodcocks, beat his dog Ponto, and ride about in
a fine new barouche with a pair of horses that
cost a thousand dollars; who had a dwelling-house
in Chestnut-street, a brewery in the Northern
Liberties, with an ale-butt as big as the basin of the
Mediterranean, a goodly store of real estate in town
and country, bank-stock and coal-mines, and a
thousand other of the good things of the world—
who, I say, would have believed that this same

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John H. Higginson was decidedly the most miserable
dog in the whole universe? It was truth,
every word of it; and before I was six days old in
my new body, I wished—no, not that the devil
had me—but I was more than willing he should
have the better half of me. I had the gout, my
wife was a shrew, and I was—a henpecked husband.

Yes! the reader may stare, and bless his stars—
the manly John H. Higginson, who seemed to
have no earthly care or trouble, and who was so
little deficient in spirit that he could quarrel with
a Jersey farmer while trespassing on his grounds,
shoot his bull-dog, and take aim at his negro, had
long since succumbed to the superior spirit, and
acknowledged the irresponsible supremacy of his
wife; in the field, and at a distance from his house,
he was a man of spirit and figure, but at home
the most submissive of the henpecked. Resistance
against a petticoat government is, as all know,
the most hopeless of resistance: a single man has
often subverted a monarchy, and overturned a republic;
but history has not yet recorded an instance
of successful rebellion on the part of a married
man against the tyranny of a wife. The
tongue of woman is the only true sceptre; for, unlike
other emblems of authority, it is both the instrument
of power and the axe of execution. John
H. Higginson attempted no resistance against the
rule of his wife; the few explosions of impatience
of which he was now and then guilty, were punished
with a rigour that awed him into discretion.

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On this subject I feel myself eloquent, and I
could expatiate on it by the hour. But I am
writing not so much the history of my reflections
as of my adventures; and I must hasten on with
my story.

CHAPTER VII. A comparison between dunning and scolding, with some thoughts on suicide.

No one but a henpecked husband who may
happen to be shut up in prison with his wife, can
appreciate the horror of the situation in which I
now found myself placed. The gout prevented
my escaping, even for a moment, from the sway
of my spouse; she truly had me tied to her apronstring,
and, as I may say, by a cord that went round
my sore foot. I was a martyr to two of the greatest
ills that ever afflicted a son of Adam; and the two
together were not to be borne. Either, if alone, I
might perhaps have tolerated, in consideration of
the many good things that marked my lot. I might
have endured the gout, if I had had a wife who, instead
of scolding at me, would have suffered me, as
a good wife should, to do all the scolding myself;
or I might even have submitted to the tyranny of
my Margaret, had I been able to beat a retreat
when I grew tired of it. But my wife and the

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gout together were not to be borne by any human
being: they set me, after a while, quite distracted.

What pleasure had I in being the rich John H.
Higginson? It was in vain that my brother-in-law,
Tim (who, it appears, was the junior partner and
factotum in the brewery, as well as manager-general
of my affairs), bragged to me of the astonishing
rise in my property, and declared I was
already worth a hundred thousand dollars; in the
midst of my exultation I heard my wife's voice on
the stairs, and my joy oozed out of the hair of my
head. I could only look at Tim and groan, and
Tim did the same; for, poor fellow, though only
her brother, he was as much henpecked as myself.
“Never mind,” said Tim, consolatorily; “your
foot will be well by-and-by, and then we shall
have a jolly time together.” But my comforter
took great care on such occasions to sneak out of
the house in good time, and so leave me to bear
the evil by myself.

In the course of two weeks, or thereabouts, my
foot had so far recovered that I was able to put it on
the ground, and hobble about a little with a crutch;
but I had lost all hope of ever being able to resume
my exercises in the field. I was therefore reduced
to despair; and my wife becoming more intolerable
every day, I began to be so weary of existence,
that I was once or twice on the point of making
away with myself.

She was, in truth, the nonpareil of women and
of scolders. I have called her a shrew; but it

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must not be supposed she was of that species to
which men give the name of Tartar. She was
none of your fierce, pepper-tempered creatures,
who wrangle in a loud voice over the whole house,
and sometimes take broomsticks to the servants.
Such viragoes are in a measure sufferable, for they
are sometimes in a good-humour. My Margaret
was of the family of Croakers, as they are called;
that is, of a lugubrious, grumbling complexion,
always sad and whining, full of suspicions and
reproaches, now in tears, now in hysterics, always
in an ill-humour, and so keeping every one about
her in a state of misery. I never knew a servant,
male or female, old or young, black or white, to
remain in the house two weeks at a time, except a
poor little negress that had been bound to me—
that is, my prototype—under indentures; and she,
after running away a dozen times, began to mope,
and pine, and look so sorrowful, that, out of pity, I
sent her home to her mother. As for myself, being
incapable of flying, and exposed all day long to her
lectures and reproaches, I became melancholy and
desperate, wished myself Sheppard Lee again, with
the constable and sheriff both after me, and, twice
or thrice, as I have hinted before, resolved to put
an end to my life.

One day, while I was reading the papers, I fell
upon the account of a man who had hanged himself.
“He was in good circumstances,” said the
journal, “and had a wife and three children. No
reason has been assigned or suspected for his rash
act.”

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“No doubt his wife was a shrew!” said I to myself,
“and there was no way of getting rid of her;
and so it was the wisest thing the poor man could
do.”

I thought over this occurrence so long, that it
produced a great effect upon my mind; and my
wife leaving me one day more incensed and desperate
than ever, I snatched up a bit of cord that
lay in my way, and resolved to strangle myself
forthwith. I should have hanged myself over the
chamber door, but was in dread I might slip down
to the floor, and hurt my foot; and thinking it
more genteel to die in my bed, I made the cord
into a noose, or ring, through which, having placed
it about my neck, I clapped a silver candlestick,
by means of which I thought I might twist the
cord tight enough to strangle me. And so I might,
had I possessed the nerve; but in truth, I no sooner
found my breath a little obstructed, than I became
alarmed with the idea of apoplexy, which was
always frightful to me, and so gave over my purpose.

On another occasion I sent to an apothecary
whom I knew, for a vial of prussic acid, which
takes life so expeditiously, that, as I supposed, one
could have no time to be in pain. But that I
might know in what manner it operated, I gave a
quantity to a neighbour's cat, which had found her
way into my chamber, and made friends with me
during my confinement; and the creature was
thrown into such horrible convulsions, and set up

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such a diabolical yell, that although she was stonedead
in less than half a minute, I was convinced
this was the most uncomfortable way of dying that
could be hit on.

I had then some thoughts of drowning myself,
and only hesitated whether I should try the experiment
in the bath-tub, or wait until I could bear a
ride over the paving-stones to the river. As to cutting
my throat, or blowing my brains out, I had
never the slightest idea of trying either; for in respect
to the former, besides that it makes such a
horrible puddle of blood about one's body, it causes
one to look as vulgar and low-lived as a slaughtered
bullock; and as for the latter, I was so familiar
with fire-arms, that I knew them to be weapons one
cannot trifle with.

But fortune, that had served me such a scurvy
trick in saddling me with gout and a scolding wife,
along with the wealth of John H. Higginson, willed
that I should employ none of these deadly expedients
against my life, but get rid of my distresses in
a manner much more remarkable and novel.

-- 111 --

p016-120 CHAPTER VIII. Sheppard Lee forms sundry acquaintances, some of which are genteel.

It was three full weeks before I left my chamber;
and during the last days of that confinement,
the only amusement I had consisted in looking from
the window, after properly poising my leg on a soft
cushion, upon what passed in the streets; and this,
as the reader may suppose, I only enjoyed when
my wife left off tormenting me for a moment, to
go down stairs and torment the servants.

This was poor pastime for one of my habits and
turn of mind; but my wife had made me contemplative;
and had it not been for the perpetual dread
of her return that I was under, I think I might
have extracted some diversion from what I saw in
the streets. But being in constant fear and vexation,
I looked on with a spirit too morose and cynical
for my own enjoyment.

Day after day, between the hours of five and six
in the afternoon, I observed Mr. Cutclose, the tailor,
descend from his marble steps, and climb upon the
back of a horse, to take the evening air. He rode
like one who had taken his chief lessons on the
shop-board; and I often wondered he did not draw
up his legs, and sit on the saddle hunker-fashion
at once; but what particularly struck me was the

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compliment he paid himself of wearing his own
coats, cut American-fashion about the arm-holes,
and so keeping himself in purgatory all day long.
He used to give parties every fortnight, and invite
all the dandies whom he had down in his tick-book;
by which means his entertainments were rendered
highly genteel and fashionable.

Next door to Mr. Cutclose lived the great lawyer
of our square, the celebrated Coke Butterside, Esq.
I could see him sally out every morning with his
green bag, which he carried in his own hands,
either because he intended to be a candidate at
the next Congressional election, and would seem
democratic, or because he was afraid, if he intrusted
it to another, the devil might snap it up as
his own property. He had a lordly, self-satisfied
air about him, as if he felt the full merit of his
vocation, and prided himself upon having more
men by the ears than any other in the whole city.
His bow was exceedingly condescending, and his
look protecting.

Nearer at hand was the dwelling of the old note-shaver—
old Goldfist, as they called him, though
his true name was Skinner. He was horribly rich,
and such a miserly, insatiable old hunks, that
although he had ostensibly retired from business
(he was originally a pawn-broker) for some six or
seven years, he still kept up his trade in a certain
way, that was not so reputable as gainful, and
of which I shall have occasion to say something
by-and-by. He was said to be a good friend of

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such desperate young gentlemen as moved in high
life, and had passable expectations from rich uncles
and parents, but he was said to hold his friendship
at very extortionate prices. How such a skinflint
as he ever came to live in a good house and in a
fashionable quarter, was a question not easy to
solve. But according to Tim my brother-in-law's
story, he came for economy, having got the house
of a demolished aristocrat who had fallen into his
clutches, and found it in so dilapidated a condition
that he chose to live in it himself rather than submit
to the expense of preparing it for a tenant.
It brought him, moreover, nearer to his customers;
and perhaps the old curmudgeon, who had a
daughter and a brace of hopeful sons, had a hope
of thus getting them into society.

But one who lives at Heaven's gate does not live
in Heaven, as the saying is. Old Goldfist kept
neither horses nor carriages, nor did he give parties:
I doubt whether he ever asked anybody to
dine with him in his life; and as for his boys and
his girl, all of whom were grown up, he kept them
in such a mean condition that they were not
company for genteel people. Everybody despised
them, especially Cutclose the tailor, who turned up
his nose at them, and called them rooterers, which,
I am told (for I never troubled myself to study
the modern languages, there being so many of
them), is a French word signifying low people.*

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This old money-maker, who had a stoop in the
shoulders, used to parade the street up and down
before his own door every sunshiny day, in a
thread-bare brown coat, to which he sometimes
added a blue spencer roundabout, a silver-headed
stick in one hand, and a yellow handkerchief in the
other. The latter he was wont every two or three
minutes to clap to his nose, producing thereby an
explosion, which, notwithstanding the muffler over
his nostrils, was prodigiously strong and sonorous;
and once, to my knowledge, it frightened a
young lady into the gutter.

I could say a great deal more of this old gentle
man, whom everybody despised, but whom every
man took off his hat to, on account of his wealth;
but I shall have occasion to speak of him hereafter.

As for the rest of my neighbours, I do not think
them worthy of notice. I might, indeed, except
Mr. Periwinkle Smith, my opposite neighbour,
spoken of before, whom I knew to belong to that
order of aristocracy which is emphatically termed
chip-chop, and who was of such pure blood that it
had known no mechanical taint for three different
generations, the nearest approach to such disgrace
being found in a family of ragamuffins, who claimed
to be Mr. Smith's relations, merely because they
were descended from his grandfather, but who
were very properly discountenanced by him.

This old gentleman had a daughter who seemed
to be universally admired, judging from the numbers
of visiters of both sexes who besieged her

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father's door every morning. To do her justice, I
must say she was very handsome; but she had
the additional merit of being an only child, and
therefore an heiress, as was supposed. I thought
so myself, until Tim, who knew something of
everybody's affairs, assured me that her father's
estate was eaten up by mortgages, that he was
poor as a rat, and would die insolvent.

Among the many young gentlemen who paid
court to the fair Miss Smith, I noticed one, who,
besides being more assiduous in his attentions,
seemed also to enjoy a greater share of her regard
than others. He was a young fellow of uncommonly
genteel figure; that is, he was long and
lank, somewhat narrow in the shoulders, but clean-limbed,
and straight as an arrow. He had a long
face and hollow cheeks; but what his jaws lacked
in flesh was made up to them in beard, his whiskers,
which were coal-black, being as exuberant as
if made by a brush-maker, and stretching from his
temples to the point of his chin, and so enveloping
his whole face. He had besides a pair of peaked
mustaches, that would have done honour to the
Grand Seignior; and, with a turban and caftan
on, he might have paid his respects to the alumni
of any college in the land, without even the necessity
of speaking bad Latin.* He dressed well,

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walked with a step as easy and majestical as a
stork or an ostrich, and was evidently a favourite
with the ladies.

His name, Tim told me, was I. D.—that is to
say, Isaac Dulmer—Dawkins; though, in consideration
of the rusticalness of the first member of
the triad, and from regard to his feelings, which
were outraged by its pronunciation, his friends had
universally agreed to suppress it; and, in consequence,
he was called I.Dulmer Dawkins, Esquire,
that title being added, because it is the only one
an American gentleman not in office, or the militia,
can claim. He was, as Timothy assured me, a
dandy of the true style, being a born scion of the
chip-chop order, and, as such, admitted to all its
honours and immunities, though without the support
of any living relations in society, or, as his ill
luck would have it, of connexions either. He was
said to possess some little property in town, and,
what was still better, to be the heir of a rich uncle
without children, whom he expected to die within
a reasonable period. As for his town property,
my brother Tim doubted its existence altogether,
and would perhaps have been as skeptical in regard
to the uncle, had he not known that an uncle did
really exist, and a rich one too, for he was largely
concerned in the distilling and lumbering business
on the Susquehanna.

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I am particular in making the reader acquainted
with Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins, inasmuch as it was
my fortune, after a time, to fall into a connexion
with him myself—as intimate as it was unexpected.

When I first saw him, I accounted him an ugly
and uncouth personage, and I regarded him with
contempt and dislike. I had acquired, along with
other peculiarities of John H. Higginson, a hearty
hatred for all people who considered themselves
better than myself; for, rich and respectable as I
was, I soon perceived that I was considered a very
low, vulgar personage by the true chip-chop aristocracy,
and I longed greatly at times, as I looked
out of the window upon them, to take some of
them by the ears, and settle the matter of superiority
between us in that way.

But as for Mr. Dulmer Dawkins, I soon began
to experience an interest in him, which was indeed
of a somewhat envious complexion. I frequently
saw him dancing along at the side of the fair Miss
Smith; and he seemed so exceedingly happy and
content, and she cast upon him so many approving
glances, that I could not help contrasting his condition
with mine. There he strutted in the open
street, young, active, and hale, as ignorant of disease
as of care, and here sat I, in a sick chamber,
imprisoned with the gout. There he moved at the
side of a young and elegant woman, who eyed him
with admiration, doubtless, also, with regard, and
who had such native amiableness and cheerfulness
imprinted together on her countenance, that it was

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plain she must prove a blessing, rather than a
curse, to him who should be so happy as to wed
her; while I, miserable I! was tied to such a wife
as I could scarce have the cruelty to wish bestowed
upon my worst enemy, contracted to an ague,
married, as I may say, to a toothache. I should
have been glad to exchange conditions with Mr.
Dulmer Dawkins—ay, by my honour! if there was
ever honour in man—or with anybody else.

From Tim's account it seemed that my young
gentleman had a longer face than head; in other
words, that nature had endowed him more bountifully
with beard than brains: and, in truth, I judged,
by the way he showed his teeth and rolled his
eyes at the fair Miss Smith, and a thousand other
little grimaces and affectations I was witness to,
that he was neither more wise nor brilliant than
the others of his tribe. But what of that? Wisdom
and care go hand in hand, and wit makes us
uncomfortable: fools are the only happy people.
So I used to think, while I looked on Mr. I. D.
Dawkins and the fair Miss Smith.

But it is an ill way to pass time, peeping into
millstones, or reading men's history out of their
faces. Dulmer Dawkins had his cares, as well as
another. I suddenly missed him from the street;
the fair Miss Smith made her promenades, attended
by other admirers, and for three whole days
Mr. Dawkins was invisible. On the fourth he
reappeared: I saw him as he came up the street,
escorting another belle, entirely unknown to me,

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but of a dashing appearance. As he passed Mr.
Periwinkle Smith's house, the fair Miss Smith
issued from the door. Mr. Dawkins made her a
low and most elegant bow, his companion waved
her fan, and they passed on, looking unutterable
things at one another. The fair Miss Smith
seemed confounded; a flush appeared on her face,
and then vanished; she looked after her admirer,
and then, with her attendants, two young coxcombs
who were with her, descended the steps, and
walked down the street. I saw her once turn her
head half round as if to look again after Dulmer;
but her curiosity, anger, sorrow, or whatever feeling
it was prompted the movement, was restrained, and
she strode off at an unusually rapid and unfashionable
gait. “So, so! my turtles have been quarrelling,”
I said to myself; “and the fair Miss Smith
is just a Jezebel, like the rest of her confounded
sex!”—It never occurred to me to think a quarrel
arising between two persons of different sexes
could be caused by any thing but the unreasonable
behaviour of the lady.

It was two weeks before I saw Dulmer Dawkins
again, and then I beheld him under a new
aspect.

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p016-129 CHAPTER IX. The Author grows weary of his wife, and mistakes the Schuylkill for the river Lethe. —The tragical adventure that befell a young gentleman in that romantic tide, with its effects upon the destinies of Sheppard Lee.

It may be supposed, since I was able to amuse
my mind with such observations, that they detracted
from the miseries of my condition, or at least assuaged
in some measure my pangs. But as well
might one believe that the condemned malefactor,
who looks out from his cart on the volunteer companies
escorting him to the gallows, and admires
the splendid incoherence of their trappings—their
infantry coats and horsemen's hats, their republican
faces and imperial colours—feels thereby less
dissatisfaction with his shroud and coffin, and the
rope coiled so inelegantly round his neck. My
observations were made only at intervals that were
both brief and rare. My wife was the most attentive
creature that ever set a husband distracted;
and under the plea of nursing me, gave me so much
of her company, that I was gradually driven to
desperation. In course of time I was happily able
to get into my barouche, and thus, for a short hour
or two, escape my tormentor. Had that period
been deferred a week later, I should certainly have
taken an ounce of arsenic that I found lying in a
closet, though I knew it was awful bad stuff to
swallow.

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As soon as I found myself once more at liberty,
I began to con over a project I had formed of
deserting my dear Margaret altogether; and this I
resolved to put into execution the moment my foot
should be well enough for travelling. But, oh
horror! just as the doctor pronounced me cured,
I was seized with a second paroxysm, and beheld
nothing before me but eternal captivity and unmitigated
wife!

This attack was brought on by the mere triumph
of restoration. The afternoon before, I drove
out upon the Schuylkill, with Tim and another
friend; and several other jolly dogs meeting us,
we stopped together at a well-known house of
entertainment on the banks of that river, and resolved
to enjoy ourselves. I declare in all sincerity
that I was very moderate both in eating and
drinking; but having sat at the table until after
nightfall, and being well content to tarry longer,
I made a sudden and rash resolution not to return
that night at all, nor upon the following day either,
if I could avoid it. But as it was necessary to
account for my absence to my wife, I instructed
Tim to tell her I had contracted a sudden fit
of podagra, which made it proper I should not
expose myself to the night-air. With this fib in
his mouth, Tim, who considered the whole thing a
capital joke, as indeed he did every other of my
devising, returned to the city, whither he was followed
by the others before midnight.

Now whether it was that the immoderate

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[figure description] Page 122.[end figure description]

satisfaction I indulged in, at enjoying even a few hours
of quiet, was an excess capable of bringing on a
paroxysm of gout,—whether it was the unwholesome
night-air of the Schuylkill, so famous for its
agues and bilious fevers, or whether indeed it was
not the lie I had invented, which was punished
upon me in the reality of the affliction I had assumed,—
it is certain that I woke up the next morning
in quite a feverish condition, and with all the
symptoms of returning podagra, though I did not
immediately suspect it. It was not until towards
nightfall that I understood my situation.

In the meanwhile Tim had returned, and again
driven back to town without me, to assure my affectionate
spouse, that, being entirely recovered, I
thought it best to defer my return until the evening;
at which time I proposed to be sick again, so
as to excuse my remaining from home a second
night. In this way I designed to put off my return
from night till morning, and from morning till night,
as long as I could.

Feeling a little better about dinner-time, I indulged
in a hearty meal, and then lay down. But
I had not slept many hours before I dreamed the
devil was tugging at my foot with a pair of red-hot
tongs; and starting up in anguish, I perceived
clearly enough that my malady had returned.

“Miserable wretch that I am!” I cried; “why
was I not content to be Sheppard Lee? Was
poverty worse than the gout? was debt equal in
torment to a scolding wife? What a fool I was to

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change my condition.—Would that I was now a
dog!”

I hobbled down to the porch of the inn, not without
pain, for my foot was awfully tender, and began
to picture to myself the misery that was inevitably
prepared for me. The thought of living a
month longer in the same house with my wife,
entirely at her mercy, drove me to despair; in the
midst of which, being roused by the sound of approaching
wheels, I looked up, and beheld my wife
herself, advancing as fast as my elegant bays could
bear her, to pay me a visit. I knew her by her
white feathers, and my brother Tim was sitting at
her side.

At this sight my philosophy forsook me altogether;
I fell into a phrensy, and disregarding the
condition of my foot, or rather sharpened and confirmed
in my purpose by the pangs it gave me, I
rushed down to the river-side towards a spot where
I knew there was deep water, resolved to throw
myself in without a moment's delay; and this without
considering that, as it was hot weather, I should
spoil the water drunk by my fellow-citizens. This
was an objection that partly occurred to me before,
when debating the subject of drowning; and I think
it so serious a one, that I would recommend to
the councils of Philadelphia to appoint a bailiff,
whose express duty should be to prevent people
drowning themselves in the basin; and the same
person might have an eye to the drowned cats,
dogs, pigs, calves, dead fish, and swimming boys,

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that somewhat detract from the agreeableness of
the water.

I reached the place just as the barouche drew
up at the door, and hopping forward, I began to slip
off my coat and waistcoat, and draw out my watch
and pocketbook, though for what purpose, I am
sure I cannot say. But what was my surprise to
perceive myself forestalled in my intentions by another
person, who stood upon the very rock from
which I designed to throw myself, and was evidently
preparing to exercise justice upon himself in the
same summary way. He was a tall, lank personage,
of highly genteel figure and habit; but his
back being towards me, I could not see his face.

I had scarce laid eyes upon him before, with a
very violent motion of his arm, he cast his hat into
the stream, and immediately afterward his neck-cloth;
then slapping his hands together like one
who is about rushing into a fight, and rushing into
it with resolution, he exclaimed, “The devil take
all women and tailors!” and leaped into the river,
which instantly closed over his head.

I was so petrified at his rashness that I forgot
my own, and stood staring on the water, as it came
rushing in agitated ripples to the shore, lost in such
confusion and horror, that for a space of a minute
or more I neither moved hand nor foot. The
water, which, previous to the plunge, had been as
smooth as a mirror, was fast regaining its tranquillity,
when, on a sudden, a great bubbling began to
appear a few yards below the rock, and I saw the

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top of a man's head come to the surface, and immediately
after sink again.

At that sight, my presence of mind was restored;
and being much concerned that a young fellow, as
he appeared to be, should perish so miserably, I
rushed into the river, and being a good diver, had
but little trouble to fish him up, and drag him to
the shore. But I pulled him out a moment too
late; he was as dead as a herring, or appeared to
be; for his countenance was distorted, and blue as
an in digo-bag, and his mouth full of foam; a circumstance
which I regretted the more, as I no
sooner looked him in the face than I recognised
the features of my friend, if I may so call him, Mr.
I. Dulmer Dawkins.

As I was dragging the body to the shore, a carriage
came rattling along the road, which is there
so near to the river that those who were in it could
easily perceive the act in which I was engaged,
and they stopped it to give me assistance. It was
at that very moment that I discovered who it was
I was carrying; and I was so much surprised at
the discovery, that I cried out in a loud voice, “I.
D. Dawkins, by the Lord!”

There was immediately a great screaming in the
carriage, and out rushed my aristocratical neighbour,
Mr. Periwinkle Smith, with two young ladies,
one of whom was his daughter; and such an uproar
and lamentation as they made about me, were perhaps
never before made by so small a number of
genteel people, on any occasion. I was

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particularly affected by the expressions of the fair Miss
Smith, who seemed overcome by grief; and, as I
did not doubt she had an affection for the young
fellow, I wondered what folly could have driven
him into this act of suicide.

But my wonder was not very long-lived; the
cries of the two ladies had reached the inn, and
drawn every soul therein to the scene of disaster.
They came running towards us, and I saw that my
wife was among them.

I could maintain my equanimity no longer: in
the bitterness of my heart I muttered, almost aloud,
and as sincerely as I ever muttered any thing in
my life, “I would I were this addle-pate Dawkins,
were it only to be lying as much like a drowned
rat as he!”

I had not well grumbled the last word, before a
sudden fire flashed before my eyes, a loud noise
like the roar of falling water passed through my
head, and I lost all sensation and consciousness.

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p016-136 BOOK III. CONTAINING MUCH THAT WILL BE INTERESTING TO YOUNG GENTLEMEN IN DEBT, AND TO FATHERS OF FAMILIES WHO DESIRE TO HAVE THEIR CHILDREN RISE IN SOCIETY. CHAPTER I. The inconveniences of being drowned. —The first chapter of the history of I. D. Dawkins, Esq.

When I recovered my wits, I thought I had got
into the place which is never mentioned among
polite people, except at church. I perceived a
horrible smell of gin, whiskey, hartshorn, tobacco-smoke,
and spirits of camphire, as if these made up
the constituents of the atmosphere of darkness;
and I saw, though very obscurely, for the light
was dim, and there seemed to be films over my
eyes, a number of figures that moved to and fro,
uttering discordant noises. One of them, it seems,
and I took it for granted he was the chief devil,
stood by me, pressing my ribs with a fist that felt
marvellously heavy, while with the other he maintained
a grasp upon my nose, to which ever and
anon he gave a considerable tweak; while another,
little less dreadful, stood at his side, armed

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with some singular weapon, shaped much like a
common fire-bellows, the nozle of which he held
at but a little distance from my own. There were
four others of them, each of whom had me by a
leg or arm, pulling and slapping with much zeal,
and, as I supposed, preparing me for a gridiron;
while divers others flitted about, as I mentioned
before, talking with voices that appeared to me
louder than thunder.

Such were the observations which I made,
vaguely and confusedly (for there was a great
stupor over most of my senses), and which led
me to suspect I was in the place of torment; in
which suspicion I was confirmed by a thousand
pangs I felt all over my body, so strange, racking,
and horrible, that unless one were to have the
toothache, gout, earache, gravel, rheumatism, headache,
a stumped toe, and locked jaw all together,
it would be impossible to form any just conception
of the nature and variety of my torments. I had,
I verily believed, the paddle-wheel of a steamboat
in my head, which was revolving full thirty times
a minute, with a hideous crashing and clamour,
and churning my brains to atoms; and, by the
same rule, I conceived there was an iron-foundry
in my lungs and heart, every cell and cavity of
which was full of hot castings.

But it would require a greater space than the
subject is worthy of, to describe the agonies I endured
in those moments of torture; and they were,
perhaps, the more poignant, since I could neither

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move a muscle, nor vent my distresses in a single
cry,—which I was the more inclined to do from
conceiving myself in the kingdom of darkness.

When I opened my eyes, I heard him who had
me by the nose yell out something to the others;
upon which there was a great stir and outcry
among them, and I distinctly heard one say, after
a great oath, “We'll do well enough without a
doctor.”

“What!” said I to myself, “have they doctors
here too? Do they follow their patients?”

“But,” continued the same voice, “we'll never
finish the job till we roll him over a barrel. He'll
never show game till the water's out of him.”

These words, it may be supposed, were sufficient
to give my mind the right cue, and relieve
me of all apprehensions in relation to death and
condemnation. On the contrary, they confirmed
me the more strongly in my conceit. How there
should be water in me I knew not; but my idea
was, the inhuman imps wished to roll it out of me,
only to make me burn the better. Fortunately for
me, another voice made answer, and opposed the
atrocious proposal.

“No rolling on barrels,” it said, “nor hanging
up by the heels”—(hanging up by the heels!
thought I)—“it is against the rules of the Humane
Society; and here they are.'

“The Humane Society!” thought I; “is there
a Humane Society among the devils?”

“The rule is,” the second voice went on, “as

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soon as the body shows signs of life, snaps its eyes,
and breathes, to pour a little brandy and water
down.”

“Brandy and water!” said the first voice, evidently
in a passion; “and I wonder if that a'n't
against the rules of the Temperance Society? Better
give the man so much burning brimstone?”

“The Temperance Society?” thought I.—I
might have brought myself to believe they had a
Temperance Society, as well as a Humane one, in
the lower regions, had it not been for the violent
ardour of him who pronounced its name. I knew
by his rage and fury he could belong to no Temperance
Society but in the United States of America;
and the inference was therefore plain, that instead
of being in the other world, I was in the
United States of America myself.

But before I could infer myself into this happy
belief, I was confused by a hot argument that grew
up between the advocates of the two societies, who
waxed quarrelsome, until there was a sudden cry,
“The doctor has come!” which pacified them in a
moment, and satisfied me I was neither dead nor
buried.

The doctor stalked up to me; I thought I knew
his features and voice, but my sight and hearing
were still confused. I have no doubt he treated
me secundum artem; but in about five minutes I
was as dead as ever.

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p016-140 CHAPTER II. A conversation betwixt the Author and his bosom friend, John Tickle, Esq.

However, it was not my fate to die in good earnest.
By-and-by I opened my eyes, feeling in
very passable health, though somewhat weak and
dejected.

The devils, or my late attendants, whoever they
were, had all vanished, and with them noise, darkness,
and the various ill odours that had afflicted
my nostrils. I was lying in a very good bed, and
chamber with curtained windows, the curtains being
closed, to keep out the sunshine that was playing
on them; and at my side there sat in an arm-chair
a young gentleman of a buckish appearance,
sound asleep. The creaking of the bed, as I rose
on my elbow, roused him; he started, rubbed his
eyes, and, looking me in the face, burst into a
hearty laugh.

“Bravo!” he cried; “I told old Boneset so! I
could watch as comfortably as ever a child's nurse
of Messina. I thought I should have the child
wake me with crying! I vow to gad, I've been
snoozing all night. And so you've opened your
peepers like an honest man at last, Dawky!—
Pray, what the devil made you drown yourself?”

And here the young gentleman, seizing me by

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the hand, fell a laughing again, and that with more
zest than before.

“Sah!” said I, looking at him with both surprise
and confusion; for, though his voice and face
seemed familiar to me, I could not for the life of
me say who he was. “Sa—ah, really I—ah—”
and here I stopped; for, first, I knew not what to
say, and secondly, my bewildered looks set him
into such a roar of merriment, that there was no
saying a word to him.

“Come, you dog,” said he, with a grin here and
a roar there, “don't be comical just after coming
out of the grave. A man just fished out of a river,
and rescued from death after a hard fight between
the doctor and the devil, should be serious and ecclesiastical,
solemn of visage, and sanctified of
conversation. No joking, you dog; but get up,
Absalomize, and talk. No joking, I say; no joking
with Jack Tickle.”

As he spoke he seized me by the shoulder, and
dragged me half out of bed.

“Ged and demmee!” said I, “remember my
foot!” For my toe catching in the bed-cord, I suddenly
recollected the gouty member.

“I will,” said he, with another roar; “for, the
Lord knows, 'tis the best part of you. Spoil Dawky's
foot, and ruin him with women and shoe-makers
for ever! The one ceases to adore, and
the other trusts no longer.”

“But I mean the gout,” said I.

“The fiddlestick and fiddle!” said he: “

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whoever heard of a poor dandy, living on tick, having
the gout? Up, Dawky, my dog, and tell me what
set you to drowning? If 'twas about Betty Small,
'twas a small matter. What! drown for being
jilted! If 'twas about the tailor's bill, 'twas still
more ridiculous. I say, Dawky, my fellow, what
made you drown yourself?”

“Drown myself!” said I; but I said it with a
stare. The odd behaviour and expressions of the
young gentleman, who called himself Jack Tickle
(a name that I never remembered to have heard
before in my life, although his countenance was
certainly highly familiar), and certain queer associations
his appearance gave birth to; the singularity
of my feelings; and, more than all, the appearance
of my foot and leg (the former of which, instead of
being tumid and red with gout, was white, and of
elegant shape, while the latter, which but the day
before had a calf to compare with any old Quaker's
in Arch-street, was now as lank as a sword-blade);
I say, these circumstances had the effect to increase
my confusion to that degree, that I felt like one
who is asleep and knows it—provided one ever
did or can feel so.

In the midst of all I suddenly cast my eyes upon
a goodly large looking-glass that hung against
the wall, and saw my reflection therein. It was
the image of Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins! his exact
representation, perfect in beard and visage, save
that the former was in great disorder, and the latter
somewhat white, and equally perfect in figure, as

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far as I could compare a man in buff and linen to
one in the full panoply of the tailor.

“My ged!” said I, “I am transformed again!”

And with that I made a hop up to the glass to
look at myself closer. There was no mistaking
the matter, even if the looking-glass had. I looked
at my legs, and I gave a tweak at my mustaches.
My shoulders were elegantly narrow, and my foot
as sound as a savage's. I jumped up, cut a pigeon-wing,
and then, descending, attempted a balletdancer's
pirouette; after which I looked again into
the glass. I was a young man of twenty-five, and
the most elegant fellow. I ever laid eyes on!

I ran to Jack, and hugged him round the neck,
crying, “Lard, Jack, you rogue, I'm the most comical
creature that ever lived!”

“Ay,” said he, smothering with laughter and my
embraces together; “but what made you drown
yourself?”

I recollected all about it, and suddenly felt astonished.
I remembered how I had jumped into
the water, and how I had fished myself out, as
dead as a poker; that is, how Mr. Higginson had
fished me, or rather how I had fished Mr. Dawkins.
I remembered how I, John Hazlewood Higginson,
had wished to be Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins, and now
I was Mr. I. Dulmer Dawkins himself, and nobody
but he. I sat down on the bedside, marvelling how
such a thing could be; and the wonder of it was
indeed amazing. That my spirit should creep into
a man's body, though strange enough, was not so

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prodigiously surprising; but that my spirit and
body together (for I did not know it had been otherwise
disposed of), especially so corpulent a one
as John H. Higginson's, should get into one—that
was truly marvellous.

But my study was brought to an end by Tickle
suddenly exclaiming, with a voice of concern,
“Curse him! gad, poor fellow, I believe he has
washed his wits out! He has gone mad!”

“No more than you have,” said I, shaking him
by the hand; “but you must allow it is a most extraordinary
affair.”

“'Pon honour, yes,” said he, laughing as hard as
ever; “but what made you throw yourself into the
river?”

“Why,” said I, in a hurry, “to save Dawkins.”

“To save Dawkins!!!” said he, looking at me
as one would look at a shoemaker who brings a
pair of shoes home the day he has promised them.

“That is,” said I, “to save Higginson.”

“To save Higginson!!!” he cried, with such a
roar of laughter as made my teeth rattle; “why
there were twenty people saw Higginson drag you
out! I say, Dawky, no lillibullering—what did
you jump into the river for?”

“I jumped,” said I, quite in a quandary, “after
my hat.”

At this answer my friend Jack Tickle threw himself
upon the bed, where he rolled over and over,
until his coat was covered with down and feathers,
which cooled his transports a little.

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[figure description] Page 136.[end figure description]

“I see,” said he, “I see! It was the last of the
family; for hatters' tick was exhausted! Right,
Dawky; in such straits of credit, I think I should
have jumped after mine! Who would not fight,
roast, or drown, for his hat, when it was the last
decent one he ever expected to have on his head?
I am glad this was the cause: it makes me think
better of you. I thought, like the rest, it was on
account of your disappointment from the adorable
Betty—”

“The devil take Betty!” said I, but without
well knowing why.

“He has!” cried Jack, uproariously; “at least a
poor devil has. She has thrown away her seventy
thousand upon a fellow no more to be compared
with you than a tame goose with a wild one: and
instead of spending it like a man, the rascal will
buy stocks, and save it. I say, Dawky, you must
have been surprised at her conduct—as we all
were;—really, we thought you had her; and there
was no one more certain than the fair Miss Smith.”

“The devil take the fair Miss Smith!” said I.

“He will,” said Tickle, shaking his head and
laughing; “or, if he don't, I don't know who will;
for it is a clear matter—dad's done up entirely, and
they say the sheriff is already making an inventory
of his chattels. A great pity, Dawky; for, if she
had but money, Miss Smith would be certainly
an angel incarnate—a nymph, a houri—the finest
woman in town. I say, Dawky, I think she almost
had you!”

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p016-146 CHAPTER III. In which Sheppard Lee is prepared for the brilliant destiny that awaits him.

There were many things in the conversation of
my friend Tickle which I did not exactly comprehend,
though I had a vague, confused appreciation
of all, and afterward understood him well enough.
The fact is, I was in the same difficulty which had
beset me when scarce warm in the body of Mr.
Higginson, that is, a confusion of characters, propensities,
and associations, only that the last were
imperfect, as if my memory had suddenly given
way; and besides, the difficulty was in both cases
increased by the feeling of amazement with which,
for several hours, when properly conscious of it, I
pondered over the marvel of my transformation.
How such a thing could happen, or had happened,
I knew no more than the man in the moon: it was
a new thing in the history of man, and there was
nothing in philosophy (at least, such philosophy as
I had at that time) to explain it. I had certainly
done nothing, on my part, in either case, to effect a
change, save merely wishing it; and it seemed to
me that I possessed a power, never before known
to a human being, of transferring my spirit from
body to body, whenever I willed, at least, under
certain circumstances. But on this subject I will
have more to say hereafter.

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Happen how and by what means it might, it was
certain a transfer had taken place; and that I was
no longer the poor miserable John H. Higginson,
with the gout and a scolding wife; the conception
and full consciousness of which were so rapturous,
that I suddenly bounded on my feet, and danced
about like a madman, now running to the glass to
admire my youthful and elegant appearance, and
now flinging my arms round the neck of my friend,
and hugging him twenty times over.

The conversation that passed between us was
exceedingly joyous and varied; though, as I said
before, I had but an imperfect understanding of
many things Tickle said; for which reason I will
record no more of his expressions, lest they should
confuse the reader's mind, as they did mine. Some
things, however, I gathered from him in relation to
my catastrophe and resuscitation which are proper
to be told.

It seems that when I—that is, John H. Higginson—
wished I were, or might be, the defunct,
Dulmer Dawkins, I fell down under a sudden
stroke of apoplexy, which was supposed to be
caused by my exertions to rescue the unfortunate
beau; and, indeed, I saw in the first newspaper
I looked into, upon getting to Philadelphia afterward,
a long account of my demise, with a highly
eulogistic and affecting account of my heroism in
sacrificing my life for another's; for, as the paragraph
stated, I was of a full and plethoric habit,
strongly inclined to apoplexy, of which I was

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aware myself, as well as of the danger of over
exertion; and therefore my act was the more truly
heroic. The paper was of a highly democratic
character, and the notice was closed by a ferocious
warning to the young bug of aristocracy (meaning
the elegant and fashionable. I. Dulmer Dawkins),
“to remember, when wasting his trivial existence
in that heartless society, whose pleasures were
obtained at the expense of their worthier, though
poorer fellow-creatures, that the preservation of it
had cost the nation one of its most excellent citizens,
and the world a virtuous man and pure patriot:”—
by which I understood that John H. Higginson
was of the democratic party; although that
was a circumstance of which the gout and my wife
had kept me ignorant, as long as I lived in his body.

As for me—that is, I. D. Dawkins—being lugged
into the tavern, along with my late tenement,
the body of John H. Higginson, I was fallen foul
of by all hands; and what with tweaking my nose,
beating my arms, scorching my legs with hot
bricks, flaying me with salt, whiskey, spirits, and
such things, and filling my lungs with dust and
ashes from an old fire-bellows, I was brought to life
again, greatly to the triumph of my tormentors, before
the appearance of a physician; who, however,
subsequently assured me they had revived me with
such effect as to give him double trouble to keep
me in the land of the living afterward; for it seems,
after being more dead than alive all that night, I had
remained in a kind of stupor all the following day,

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from which I awoke on the second morning, well
enough, as the doctor prognosticated I would be,
but only after I had remained more than thirty-six
hours in a state of insensibility.

As for my body—that is, Higginson's—it had the
honour, after being cogitated over by the coroner,
of riding home in my splendid barouche, with the
thousand-dollar hourses; but whether my wife went
with it or not, I never cared to inquire. It was
enough she was gone; and oh, rapture of raptures!
gone for ever.

My friend Tickle illuminated me as to other matters,
especially in relation to the fair Miss Smith;
with whom, it seems (and I recollected all about it
when he had set my new associations properly to
work), I had been quite particular, until he himself
discovered the insolvency of her father's estate;
when (and this I began to recollect in the same
manner) I instantly turned my attentions upon another—
the fair Miss Small—who jilted me. These
things, I say, I soon began to recall to mind, as
well as many other incidents in the past life of I.
Dulmer Dawkins; and, indeed, in the course of a
few days, I was as much at home in his body, and
among his affairs, as he had ever been himself.
But of this anon. I learned that Mr. Periwinkle
Smith, after seeing me lodged in the tavern, had
driven off to town to engage medical assistance;
and this he did so effectually, that I had no less
than seven doctors at one time to send me their
bills; which was a very foolish thing of them.

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Of these things, I say, I discoursed with my
friend Jack Tickle, whose conversation, together
with the happy consciousness I had of my transformation,
infused inexpressible vivacity into my
spirits. I was marvellously pleased at the idea of
being a fine young fellow, with the freedom of
chip-chop society; and I was impatient to return to
the city to enjoy my happiness.

“Bravo!” said Jack; “we'll walk in together.
But do you know, Dawky,” he went on, nodding
and winking, “that this is a cursed no-credit place,
and that the man below betrayed a certain vulgar
anxiety about scot and lot, and the extra expenses
you had put him to? What do you say about paying?”

“Really,” said I, clapping my hands into my
pockets, “I have forgotten my pocketbook!”

“To be sure you have,” said Tickle, laughing;
“but why need you tell me so? I am no shop-keeper.”

“I mean,” said I, in alarm, “demmee, that I
have lost it, and with that hundred-dollar bill my
brother Tim—”

“Your brother Tim!” said Tickle; “who's he?”

I was struck all aback. I remembered that I
was I. D. Dawkins.

Tickle perceived my confusion, and enjoyed it,
attributing it to another cause.

“Right!” said he, grinning with delight; “but
don't make any pretence with me. I didn't expect
you to have any money; and, the Lord be

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thanked, I have. I'll square your account, my dear fellow,
and help you to a pigeon besides.”

With these words, and many others not needful
to be mentioned, he led the way down stairs, where
he became astonishingly grave and dignified—a
peculiarity I found myself falling into—slapped his
ratan against his legs, called for “his friend Dawkins's
bill,” and paid it—that is, I suppose he did,
for I stalked out upon the porch, as if I considered
such vulgar matters beneath my notice.

Here, being soon joined by Tickle, and the day
proving uncommonly fine, we set out on foot towards
the city; and I was conducted by my friend
to the door of my own lodgings.

CHAPTER IV. In which Sheppard Lee has an interview with a lady, who tells him a secret.

In and mount,” said Tickle: “I see Jem Puddle
in the street yonder, and I have an idea I can
borrow fifty dollars of him. I will drop round on
you by-and-by.”

So saying, Tickle started off and left me at the
door of my lodgings. I had a sort of confused
recollection of the place, though I had never seen
it before in my life;—the dingy bricks and weather-stained
marble, the rickety old iron railing on the

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steps, and the ugly, worn-out brass plate, with the
“J. SNIGGLES” engraved thereon, rose on my
memory like old acquaintances who had grown out
of it. The house might have been a fashionable
one in its day; nay, for the matter of that, it was
not so humble in appearance but that a gentleman
might have lived in it, if too poor to inhabit a
better; and though out of the world, being in a
street called Eighth, it was within hail of Chestnut:
nevertheless, it was but a poor place compared
with my late dwelling, my house, in Chestnut;
the recollection of which, together with the
reflection that I entered this only as a lodger, somewhat
abated the transport of my joy. “Ah!”
thought I, “what a pity, in giving up John H.
Higginson's gout and wife, I had also to give up
his house and money!” But the recollection of
the two first-named possessions was fresh upon
me, and I ceased to murmur.

I ascended the steps and rang the bell, somewhat
faintly, I must acknowledge; for though I
had my friend Tickle's assurance, and a confused
consciousness of my own, that I was at the right
place, there was a certain strangeness in it, naturally
arising from my situation, that made me hesitate.
The door, however, opened, and the reception
that followed convinced me I was not intruding
where I was not known.

The door was opened by a bouncing Irish
wench, of some twenty-five years or thereabouts,
with hair as yellow as a broom-whisk, and

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shoulders twice as broad as my own; besides which,
she was not handsome; she had staring gray eyes,
brick-coloured cheeks, a nose that looked up at
her forehead, and a mouth not so ugly as spacious.

I was about to pass by this fair apparition with
no further notice than a nod, which I made somewhat
instinctively; but I was not fated to get off
so easily. No sooner did she lay eyes upon me
than she set up a squeak, “Oh, hubbuboo! and is
it you, Misther Dawkins, dear?” and threw her
great beef-steak arms round my neck.

An embrace from a creature of her attractions I
could have easily dispensed with; yet I might have
been affected by her joy at seeing me return alive
from the bottom of the river, it was so truly natural
and exuberant, had she not been in a great hurry to
qualify it. “Oh, murder, dear!” she cried, “and
I'm glad; for they said, bad luck till'em, the vagabones!
you was drownded, dear, and was after
chating me out iv my money for the washin' and
mindin'!”

“The washing and mending?” thought I. “Do
I patronise such a tasty body as this? and do I
owe her money?”

But while I muttered thus within, the girl, giving
me another hug that I thought would have
made my shoulders change place with one another,
roared out, in continuation,—

“Och, throth, but the man must drown dape that
chates Nora Magee of her own! Musha, hinny
darlint, jist pit yer finger into yer pocket and pull

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me out the tin dollars and seventy cents that you
owe me.”

“Certainly, Nora,” said I; and Succuba let me
go. “But, ged now, Nora,” I cried, for well I
knew my pockets were as empty as the promises
I intended to make her, and I was driven by a sort
of instinct upon the proper course for pacifying the
harpy,—a course, I suppose, that I,—that is, my
prototype, the true Dawkins,—had often practised
before;—“I say, Nora, don't talk of dollars and
cents; for I intend to pay you in eagles and half-eagles
some of these days, when my uncle comes;
and besides, Nora, you jade you, I intend to give
you a buss into the bargain, as, ged, I believe I
will now.”

And with that I returned the compliment she
had paid me, took the great creature by the neck,
and (yea, faith, and I presume I should have done
the same thing with my tailor, if he could have been
managed the same way) absolutely kissed her.

“Och! blessings on yer pritty face!” said she,
looking pleased and disappointed together, but
wiping her mouth as if to prepare for a second
salute, “and that's the way you bamboozles me
wid your uncles and your thricks upon a poor cratur's
modesty! But, oh, Misther Dawkins, dear,
ye'r lookin' sick and pokey; and so I'll not be after
throubling you; and I hopes your uncle will be soon
in Phillydelphy; for there's our ould Sniggles, the
hungry ould nagur (that I should be saying so of
the master o' the house, that gives me a dollar a

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week and a new bonnet at Christmas!) he's been
rampin', and roarin', and swearin' like a Turk, my
heavy hathred on him, he'll be havin' you up before
the constables and squires for the dirty rint-money,
the ould divil! that you owe him.”

“The rent-money?” thought I; and I began to
have a sort of feeling about me, I do not know
what, but it was not agreeable. I clapped my
hand into my pocket; there was a pocketbook
there, but I had examined it before, and there was
nothing in it. My mind began to misgive me a
little; it was apparent the worthy I. D. Dawkins
had not yielded me his body without leaving me
some of his debts to pay: and as to what means
of discharging them he might have bequeathed, I
was yet in the dark.

I ascended to my rooms, of which I discovered
I had a brace; but I was in some dudgeon to find
them in the third story. “Very odd,” said I to
myself, “that I should be a fashionable man and
a dandy, and live in a third story!” My instincts
had gone nigh, as I climbed the stairs, to carry me
into a chamber on the first floor; but, “Arrah, now,
hinny,” said Nora, “you'd be after forgetting you
agreed to give up the best chambers till yer uncle
comes to town—bad luck to him for keeping me
so long out iv my tin dollars!”

“This uncle of mine,” thought I, “will settle all
pothers.” But who he was, or what sort of claim I
had upon him, I knew no more than the man in
the moon. My associations acted but slowly and

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imperfectly, and when I strove to look back upon
the past history of my new body, I felt like a man
who has clapped upon his nose his grandmother's
spectacles, through which he can behold objects
indeed, but all so confused, distorted, and mystified,
that they serve only to bewilder his vision. Thus
I beheld, when I made the effort, a jumble of
events and persons crowded together on my memory,
but without being able to seize upon any
one and examine it to my satisfaction. I had an
uncle, it seemed, but I could not recall any thing
like a recollection of having ever seen him. “But
time,” thought I, “will set these things right.”

CHAPTER V. An inventory of a young gentleman's effects, with some account of Mr. Sniggles, his landlord.

My chambers were but meanly furnished, and
this— But it needs not I should acquaint the
reader with the divers proofs that rose every moment
to convince me Mr. I. D. Dawkins, though a
dandy, was not a rich one. Before I had rummaged
an hour among his chattels, I discovered
enough to set me into a cold shiver, and almost
make me repent having taken possession of his
body. I found lying upon his table no less than
thirty-seven folded papers—the tribute doubtless

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of the two days of his absence—of which, eight
were either billetsdoux or mere cards of invitation
to ladies' parties, and twenty-nine were letters from
tailors, shoemakers, &c., all of them requesting
payment of money owed, and most of them as
ferocious in spirit as they were original in style
and grammar. In an old trunk, which I ransacked,
as well as every chest of drawers and closet in
the rooms (the keys were ready at hand in my
pocket), I discovered a bushel or two of bills—I
suppose there may have been a thousand of them,
for they were of all dates—not one of which had a
receipt to it.

But, to make amends for this evil, I found Mr.
I. D. Dawkins's wardrobe in pretty good condition,
except in the article of shirts; of which I discovered
but six, and those none of the best. However,
there were three dozen good dickeys, and a
great abundance of loose collars and wristbands;
with which, I perceived, I might do without shirts
altogether.

But what gave me most pleasure, and indeed
quite consoled me under the feelings of disappointment
and doubt that had begun to rise, was a
marvellous great quantity of love-letters, locks of
hair, finger-rings, odd gloves, &c., that I found
scattered about; each, as was apparent, the tribute
or spoil of some admiring fair. “Aha!” said I, “I
am a devil of a fellow among the girls: who can
resist me?” The idea of being a favourite among
the women, and the prospect I had of shooting

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conquests among them, right and left, were infinitely
agreeable. “Ged and demmee,” said I, “I
will look about me now, and fix for life. I will
pick out the finest creature I can find who has
a fortune, and marry her; and then, I say, demm
all tailors and other people. I will marry a wife,
eged!”

It was doubly remarkable I should make such a
resolution, having had but lately such a lesson of
the joys of matrimony. But I found myself fast
growing another man. I still retained a lively
recollection of Mrs. Higginson, but fancy pictured
an angel in the anticipated Mrs. Dawkins. Dim
visions—which seemed to be made up as much
of crude recollections as of half-formed anticipations—
dim visions of lovely eyes and noses floated
over my brain; I sank into a soft, elysium-like
revery; when I suddenly heard a voice, somewhat
tremulous and feeble, but rude as the screech of a
strawberry-woman in spring, saying,

“Sir, I say, sir, Mr. Dawkins, I shall trouble
you, I say, for the amount of that 'ere small account.”

The accents were more horrible to my soul than
the grating of a dentist's file upon the tenderest of
grinders. I looked up from my feet, which I had
been admiring, and beheld a visage somewhat iracund
and savage, but so vulgar and plebeian in all
its lineaments, that my fear was changed into contempt.

“And I say, sare! whoever you ah,” said I,

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looking the fellow to the soul, “what do you want
he-ah? who ah you?”

At these questions the man looked petrified; he
opened his mouth till I thought his under jaw
would drop off, and stared at me in dumb amazement.
I had some hopes he was about to fall down
in a fit. I am not naturally of a bloodthirsty
turn; but I knew he was a dun, and such persons
one always wishes the devil would snatch up.
But he recovered his tongue, and, to do him justice,
I must confess he used it with a spirit I did
not look for in such a mean, shrivelled-up body as
he had.

“Don't go for to insult me,” said the Goth, gritting
his teeth, and spluttering his words through
them as through a watering-pot; “I'll let you know
who I am. I'll have my money, or I'll have the
worth on it out on you; for I won't be cheated no
more for nothing. And as for what I'm doing here,
I'll let you know as how I'm master in my
own house; and, as Mrs. Sniggles says—”

“Sniggles!” said I, recollecting that the rascal
was my landlord and creditor. I started up, and
seizing the enraged little man by the hand, I begged
his pardon.

“Really, my dear soul,” said I, “I was in a
brown study, and I didn't know you. Pray how
d'ye do? how is Mrs. Sniggles? You must know
I have hardly yet got over my unfortunate fall into
the water. Really, sah, I was almost drowned,
and I had the misfortune to lose my pocketbook.”

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“None on your gammon on me!” said Mr.
Sniggles, looking as intrepid as ever; “for I don't
believe none on it; and I don't believe you're no
gentleman neither, or you wouldn't keep me out
of my money. You see, Mr. Dawkins, do you
see, you've had my rooms five months, and I
ha'n't seen the colour on your money over once;
it's all promise and no pay. And so, as I was saying,
I won't be diddled no longer, or I'll see the
end of it; for, as Mrs. Sniggles says, we can't afford
to be diddled for nothing.”

“Come, Sniggles,” said I, “don't be in a passion;
I'll pay you. What's the amount?”

“Seventeen weeks on the second story, seven
dollars a week—monstrous cheap at that, considerin'
there's breakfast in—one hundred and nineteen
dollars—and taking off the ten dollars you
paid me, as per account, one hundred and nine dollars;
four weeks on the third story, at five dollars
and a half (and good rooms too), twenty-two dollars;
and adding the ten dollars I paid the shoe-maker,
and the five dollars sixty cents I loaned
you to pay the fine at the mayor's office, for smashing
the lamp, makes jest a hundred and forty-one
dollars sixty cents, no halves nor quarters, precise;
and the sooner you shows me the money the better.”

“A confounded long bill that, Sniggles,” said
I; “but I don't dispute it; and the moment my
uncle comes to town—”

The mean, avaricious fellow had begun to look

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happy, as he conned over the hateful particulars of
his account, which he held in his hand; but no
sooner had the words “my uncle” left my lips, than
he began to jump up and down, pulling his hair,
gritting his teeth, and shaking his fists like a mad-man;
and to my astonishment the contemptible
fellow waxed profane, and actually cursed me and
my uncle too. His oaths, as may be supposed,
only made him appear more low-lived and vulgar
than before; for cursing and swearing are the
hardest things to do genteelly that I know: there
are but few persons in the world who can produce
an oath with any thing like elegance; it is the
truest criterion of gentility, and in consequence I
would recommend no person to attempt one who
is not confident of his high breeding.

My landlord, Mr. Sniggles, fell to cursing and
swearing, and insulted me very grossly; first, by
affecting to believe that no such person as my uncle
existed; secondly, by threatening to turn me
out of his house; and thirdly, by assuring me he
would have his account in an attorney's hands before
I was an hour older. It was in vain I exhorted
him to moderate his passion, and strove to wheedle
him into a better humour; I had forgotten (or
rather I did not yet know) the true secret of his
character, which was cowardice, by addressing my
arguments to which I might have readily brought
him to reason. But, in truth, I was frightened myself;
how I was to pay a bill of a hundred and
forty-one dollars sixty cents was a thing only to be

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guessed at; and the prospect of taking up my
lodgings in the debtors' apartments up Arch-street,
was as vinegar and wormwood to my imagination.

The more I strove to sooth the wrath of Mr.
Sniggles, the more ferocious he became; until at
last he did nothing but dance round and round me,
like a little dog barking at a big one that is tied to
a post, crying out all the time, frantic with despair
and fury, “Pay me what you owe me! pay this
here bill here! pay me my money, or I'll have you
in jail!” with other expressions equally foolish and
insulting.

CHAPTER VI. Sheppard Lee hears news of his uncle, and Mr. Sniggles is brought to his senses.

In the midst of my troubles, up comes my friend
Tickle and pops into the room. He gave a stare
at Sniggles, and next a grin; and then, just as I
was looking to be laughed at, he made a spring
and caught me round the neck, crying, with uncommon
exultation and eagerness,—

“I congratulate you, Dawkins, you dog! and,
mind, you must lend me five hundred dollars tomorrow!”

Before I could answer a word to this surprising
address, he turned upon Sniggles, and, looking
black as a thunder-cloud, cried,—

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“Hah! Sniggles? What is the fellow doing
here? dunning you for his money? The scoundrel!
Hah! What!”

I thought he would have kicked the poor man
out of the room, and so thought Sniggles also; for,
though he exclaimed, “Touch me if you dare!” he
ran to the door, where he looked vastly alarmed,
and was able to muster only a single expression of
resolution. “I asks my money,” said he, “and
dang me but I'll have it; for, as Mrs. Sniggles
says, I'll not be diddled for nothing.”

“Pay the rascal his dirty money, and then be
done with him; leave his house, and patronise him
no more,” said Jack. Then turning to me, he
made three skips into the air, clapped his hands,
and running up to me and giving me a second embrace,
cried,—

“Angels, horses, and women! hug me, kiss me,
and lend me that five hundred dollars—your uncle
has arrived!”

“Uncle! what uncle?” said I.

“Why your uncle Wiggins—your rich old uncle—
your dad of an uncle—your bank and banker—
your— But I say, Dawky, you'll lend me that
five hundred, won't you? Saw him at the hotel—
just arrived—asked anxiously for his nephew
Dawkins;—bad look about the eyes—will die in a
month; and then—then, my fellow! fourteen thousand
a year, if it's fourteen hundred!”

“Fourteen thousand a year!” echoed I; the
words were also muttered over by Sniggles. I

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caught the fellow's eye; he looked confounded and
uneasy.

“If that's so,” said he, “then I hope Mr. Dawkins
will pay me my money, and not take no offence,
for none wasn't intended.”

“Pay you your money!” said Jack Tickle, stepping
up to him in a rage; “no, you rapacious dun,
he sha'n't pay you a cent. You shall sue him, and
get judgment, and wait six months for your money.”

“No, you rascallion!” said I, “I won't take
that revenge of such a low fellow. I'll pay you
your money, and be done with you. But, Jack, I
say, demmee, let's be off; let's run down to my
uncle Wiggins.”

“Wiggins!” said my landlord; “why, you always
said his name was Wilkins!”

“And so it is,” said Tickle; “Wiggins P. Wilkins,
the rich and well-known Wiggins P. Wilkins.
But what do you want here? Have you had your
answer? What do you mean by intruding here?
You'll get your money; and so, if you please, do
Mr. Dawkins and me the favour to walk down
stairs, or—”

“Well,” said my amiable creditor, whose fury
was quite overcome by Tickle's violence, and his
report of my uncle's arrival, “I always said Mr.
Dawkins was a gentleman, and would pay me one
day or another; and one day's just as good as another;
and so I hopes he'll take no offence. But as
for you, and the likes of you, Mr. Tickle,” said the
little man, endeavouring to assume courage, “I

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don't like to be abused in my own house; but,
howsomever, as you're Mr. Dawkins's friend, I'll
say no more about it.”

And with that my gentleman walked down
stairs.

“Let us go!” said I. “Let us run—let us fly!”

“Where?” said Tickle.

“Why, to my uncle. Where is he?”

“Where!” cried Tickle, bursting into a roar of
laughter. “Are you as big a fool as Sniggles?
You didn't believe me! Ah, lud! is there nobody
witty but myself?”

“And my uncle a'n't come, then?” said I.
“What made you say so?”

“To rid you of a dun, my fellow,” said Jack. “I
saw the rascal had worked himself into a phrensy,
and that you were at your wit's end. I had pity
on your distresses, and so ran in with a huge lie,
as irresistible as a broadsword, to the rescue. Victory
and Jo Pæan! I have routed the enemy, and
you are no longer in fear. Keep up the fire, and
you are easy for a week.”

“But my uncle really intends to leave me that
fourteen thousand a year?” said I.

“Has he got it?” said Jack, giving me a comical
stare.

“Jack,” said I, after pausing a little, “I want to
ask you a favour.”

“Have but twenty-five in the world,” said Tickle,
pulling out his pocketbook; “but you shall have
ten.”

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“It isn't that,” said I; “I want you to tell me
my history.”

“Your history!” said Tickle, staring at me in
surprise.

CHAPTER VII. In which Sheppard Lee is told his history.

An idea had suddenly seized me; and I must
say, that up to this time, it was the most brilliant
one that ever entered my mind. My ignorance of
Mr. I. D. Dawkins's affairs was still highly inconvenient
and oppressive, and I was determined, with
my friend's assistance, to remove it.

“Tickle,” said I, “I really believe the doctor
has only half resuscitated me; my body is pretty
well, but my mind is only so-so. Would you believe
it, my memory is quite gone?”

“As to your debts, certainly,” said Jack; “so is
mine.”

“Ged,” said I, “'tis gone altogether. Really, it
seems to me as if I had only begun existence this
morning; my recollection of all events (and even
persons known) anterior to my sop in the river, is
so imperfect, you can't conceive. Would you believe
it, I really didn't know that rogue Sniggles,
and had to ask him his name! The ladies, too,
Jack—Miss Smith, Miss Small, and the rest that
you were talking about—who the deuse are they?

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I have heard much talk of my uncle, too. Have I
an uncle? and if so, who and what is he? for I
swear, 'pon honour, Jack, I know no more than the
man in the moon. In a word, Jack, demmee, I am
in my second childhood, and you must help me out
of it. Give me, therefore, my history, my whole
history, and tell me all about me; for may I be
dunned to death if I rightly know who I am!”

“You don't?” said Jack; “well, that's funny;
but I have heard of such things before. Is a dip
in cold water, then, so hard on the memory? I
say, Dawky, my fellow, couldn't we contrive some
way to dip our creditors? But, eged now, Dawky,
you a'n't serious?”

“I am,” said I; “and I beg you'll give me an
idea who I am, and all other things appertaining.”

“Oh!” said Tickle, who seemed vastly diverted
by my embarrassment, “that is soon done. You
are a dandy of pure blood, and poor as a church
mouse, but not yet out of favour. Your father, who
was a dandy before you, and in prime esteem,
having bought his way into notice with two or
three cargoes of indigo and young hyson (for he
was an India merchant), properly laid out in elegant
entertainments, gave up trade to live a gentleman,
and died one; leaving you, an elegant fellow
and ignoramus, as a gentleman's son should be, to
spend his leavings. This you have done, Dawky,
and most gloriously. For five years, none of us,
the sons of nabobocracy, could compare with you
in dash, flash, and splash. But even Phaeton fell!

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Horses galloped away, buggies and curricles rolled
into the gutter, and tailors looked alarmed—stocks
flew out at the window, bricks and mortar took to
themselves wings, and your stockings began to
want darning. Then said Dawkins, `I will marry
a wife,' and he looked loving at Periwinkle's fair
daughter; and Periwinkle's fair daughter looked
loving at Dawkins; and Dawkins calling counsel
of his friend, John Tickle, of Ticklesbury Manor,
beheld and lo! Periwinkle's fair daughter's father's
fine estate was fenced round with rows of
mortgages, as thick and thorny as prickly-pears.
Whereupon the inconstant swain, forgetting his
vows, ran to the elegant Miss Small, who smiled
on him, and married another; and the loss of this
adorable fair, fortune and all, together with an
uncommon fit of dunning, so affected my friend's
spirits, that he threw himself into the Schuylkill,
whence he was fished by a fellow called What-d'-ye-call-it,
a brewer.”

“Well,” said I; “but do you mean to say I
have squandered all my property?”

“Every sous,” said my friend; “it is just six
weeks since you spent the last dollar of the last
term of your annuity.”

“What annuity?” said I.

“Why, the five years' annuity you bought of
old Goldfist. Is it possible you don't recollect
him? Don't you remember the row of negro-houses
you owned down in Southwark?”

“I don't,” said I.

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“A piece of arrant cheating! sheer swindling!”
said Tickle; “but when did old Skinner ever
make an honest bargain? The houses and lot of
ground worth two thousand, as they stood; but
title good and indefeisible, and capable of being
made worth twenty thousand: I remember you
offered 'em to old Goldfist for seven. What said
the old hunks? `Give me immediate possession,
and thereupon you shall have a bonus of a thousand
on the nail, together with the same sum
yearly for five years, provided you live so long—
if not, then as long as you live.' Snapped like a
gudgeon, and was bit; and on the fifth year—beginning
of August last, had the last integer of payment,
with comfort of seeing a property you had
sold for six thousand, yielding its possessor just
that much a year.”

“The geds!” said I; “has old Goldfist six
thousand a year?”

“Say sixty,” replied Jack.

“Tickle,” said I, “the old curmudgeon has a
daughter: I'll marry her.”

“No you won't,” said my friend, shaking his
head mournfully: “old Goldfist is too well acquainted
with your affairs; and unless you have
his consent, what will you get by her?”

“Tickle,” said I, “I must marry somebody, or
be ruined. But stay, there's my uncle; now, my
dear fellow, who is he?”

“Faith,” said Tickle, “I don't know; always
supposed he belonged to the Apocrypha, and was

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used to argue duns into good manners: nobody
sues a young fellow that has good expectations
from a rich uncle. But, now I think of it, I believe
you did once tell me you had an uncle—
some vagabond trading fellow or other—in the
west; but I never heard you say you expected any
thing of him. I thought you called him Wiggins;
but Sniggles says Wilkins. All's one, however;
for I remember you said he had brats of his
own.”

I began to feel uncomfortable; and, upon questioning
my friend further, I discovered that my situation
was far from being agreeable. I had a horrible
quantity of debts on my shoulders, and no fund
to discharge them; and, what was worse, I found
that my means of subsistence were not only precarious,
but I had good reason to fear they were
any thing but reputable. My dear friend John
Tickle, though a gentleman and dandy, it was
plain, was a personage who lived by his wits; and
I began to see that Mr. I. D. Dawkins was another.
From Tickle's expressions, I perceived that our
chief dependance lay in the noble trade of pigeon-hunting.
As this is a word some of my readers
may be too unsophisticated to understand, I will
explain it, and in very few words. As there are
in the world young fellows of plebeian origin but
full pockets, who are ambitious to figure in elegant
society, so there are also in elegant society sundry
youths of better fame than fortune, who are willing
to patronise them, provided any thing can be made

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by their condescension; in which case, the happy
Phaeton is taught to spend his money in ways
most advantageous to his patrons, though by no
means to his own profit. Such a young gentleman
is then called a pigeon, and is allowed to flutter in
the sunbeams, while his eagle-clawed friends are
helping themselves to his feathers; the last of
which being abstracted, he is commonly called a
fine fellow, and kicked out of their company. I
cannot pretend to say what degree of relish my
prototype, the true I. D. Dawkins, may have had
for such a mode of existence; but I must aver in
my own defence, that I had, throughout the whole
adventure, while in his body, so much of Sheppard
Lee's original sense of honour and honesty hanging
about me, that I was more than once shocked
at the meanness and depravity of such a course of
life; and when I first understood the thing from
Tickle, I was so ashamed of myself, that had I
lighted upon the body of any decent man at the
moment, I do verily believe I should have done
my best to get into it, and so put an end to Mr. I.
D. Dawkins altogether. But men's bodies are not
like the dry-goods dealers' boxes in Market-street,
to be stumbled into at any moment.

It was some comfort to me to find that our practice
in this particular was so little known, that both
Tickle and myself—but myself more especially—
were considered in the main very excellent, exemplary
young men, as far as dandies could be,
and were still allowed to mingle in elegant

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society. As for Tickle, indeed, I soon discovered he
was in but doubtful odour with the ladies, at least
with their mammas; for he had been for some years
living on his wits: but I, on the contrary, being
pretty universally regarded as the heir-expectant of
a rich uncle, and being besides a prettier fellow,
was received with general favour and approbation.

Having obtained from Tickle as much of my (or
Mr. I. D. Dawkins's) history as was necessary, I
gave my worthy friend to understand I should need
his advice and assistance in returning into society;
“for,” said I, and very truly too, “I really
sha'n't know anybody, and shall feel very awkward.
Here,” I added, “are two invitations for
this very evening—one from Mrs. Pickup, and the
other from the Misses Oldstyle. Now who is Mrs.
Pickup? and who are the Oldstyles? and where
the mischief do they live?”

“It is very odd you should forget so much,”
said Tickle; and then proceeded to give me the information
I wanted, promising also to go with me to
both places himself, and prompt me through all
difficulties.

-- 164 --

p016-173 CHAPTER VIII. A conversation with a tailor. Sheppard Lee finds himself in a situation truly appalling.

Having thus got upon the subject of the ladies,
we—that is, Tickle and myself—fell into a highly
agreeable conversation, in the course of which I
lost sight of all my fears and anxieties, until they
were suddenly recalled by the entrance—and a
very unceremonious one it was—of a tall fellow
with hinge knees and crow-bar elbows, fashionably
dressed, but whom there was no mistaking for
aught but a vulgarian. I knew his errand before he
spoke; and so did Tickle, who instantly cried out,

“Snip the tailor, eged! and another paroxysm
of dunning!”

“Servant, Mr. Dawkins,—servant, Mr. Tickle,”
said the gentleman, giving each of us a scrape;
“hope no intrusion and no offence; wouldn't go to
controvert gentlemen on no account. But, talking
of accounts, Mr. Dawkins, hope you'll excuse me;
wouldn't dun a gentleman for the world, but have a
cussed note in bank for cloth, and must make up the
sum by to-morrow; and so, if it's convenient, Mr.
Dawkins, shall be obliged for the amount of bill.”

“My uncle,” said I—

“Can't go that no more,” said the tailor; “can't
go that no more, begging pardon. Bill outstanding
nineteen months and over; wouldn't mind

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letting it run the year out, but for the cussed pressure
on the money-market: no money to be had
nowhere.”

“Right,” said Jack; “and what makes you
suppose you will get it here? Now, Snip, my
dear fellow, make yourself short. 'Tis not convenient
just now for my friend Dawkins to pay you.”

“Must take up that note,” said Mr. Snip; “can't
think of waiting no longer.”

The rascal spoke resolutely, though more cowardly-looking
than Sniggles: but who could withstand
the rage and indignation of my friend
Tickle?

“Away, you ungrateful loon!” said he; “is that
the way you serve the man that made you? Who
would have employed you, you botch, if Dawkins
had not taken you up and made you fashionable?”

“Ay, demmee, Snip,” said I, taking my cue from
Tickle, “I say, wasn't I the making of you? and
do you come dunning me? Didn't I recommend
you into notice and business? didn't I send my
friends to you?”

“Can't deny,” said the tailor, “won't controvert;
but must say, can't always get my money of Mr.
Dawkins's friends; but don't mean no offence.
Wouldn't think of pressing Mr. Dawkins; always
said he was my friend; wouldn't mind holding
back, if Mr. Dawkins would send me good pay-customers.”

“Well,” said I, thinking the man was modest in

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his desires, “I will: you shall have three Johnny
Raws before the week is out, and you may charge
them double.”

“Very much obliged, and won't controvert,” said
Mr. Snip, humbly; “but can't take no more promises.”

“And you really insist upon having your money?”
said Tickle.

“Ay!” said I, re-echoing his indignation, and
putting on a dignity that even awed myself, “you
are determined to have your money, and to lose
your business? Tickle, hand me back that five
hundred I lent you, or enough of it to pay the rascallion—
shall have it again as soon as I can run
down and see my uncle Wilkins. I say, Tickle,
hand me the money, and let me pay the ungrateful
rascal off.”

“If I do,” said Jack, “demmee! Encourage
dunning? Never!”

“He shall have his money,” said I. “Here,
you Snip, you man, you have broken your own
neck; come back here to-morrow at half past
twelve, with a receipt in full, take your money, and
never look to make a gentleman's coat again.
Come, Tickle, it is time I was with my uncle;
you shall go along and dine with him. A fine old
cock, I assure you!”

I surveyed the tailor; my dignity, and the sound
of my uncle's name, had subdued him. He slipped
his bill into his pocket, and looked penitent.

“Won't controvert a gentleman on no occasion,”

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he said. “Always said Mr. Dawkins was my
friend; and as for Mr. Dawkins's uncle—”

“Yes!” said Jack, “yes! you said you did not
believe in any such person! did not believe there
was such a person!”

“Can't controvert no gentleman,” said the tailor,
looking as if he had been rubbed down with his
own goose; “but never said no such thing, Mr.
Tickle. Always believed in Mr. Dawkins's uncle,
but only thought perhaps he wouldn't pay—that is,
wasn't certain, and didn't mean no offence; and so
if Mr. Dawkins will say a word for me now and
then to gentlemen that wants coats, I'll leave it to
his convenience; hoping he will excuse my coming
up stairs without asking, not having found no
servant, and not supposing he would take no offence,
and—”

And so the rascallion was going on, heaping
apology on apology, and about to depart in contrition
for his offence; when, as my evil genius would
have it, in popped Mr. Sniggles, foaming with
wrath, and looking daggers and conflagration.

“Trouble you for the amount of that 'ere small
account,” said the fellow; “don't believe in no
more uncles; won't be diddled no longer for nothing;
all diddle about uncle—just as Mrs. Sniggles
says—no more uncle than she has!”

“What do you mean?” said Jack Tickle; but
his indignation no longer daunted the dun, who cried
out, with uncommon emphasis and effect,—

“Had my doubts about the matter, and told

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Mrs. Sniggles, said I, `Mr. Dawkins's uncle has
come;' says Mrs. Sniggles, `Run down to the tavern
and see; for no sitch thing a'n't certain till we
knows it.' And so I runs down to the Mansion
House, and Mr. Wilkins wasn't there; and then I
runs to the United States, hoping it was a mistake,
and Mr. Wilkins wasn't there; and then I runs to
this place and that place, and Mr. Wilkins wasn't
there; and, as Mrs. Sniggles said, Mr. Wilkins
wasn't nowhere, but 'twas all diddle, and throwing
dust in my eyes. And so, as for this here account,
one hundred and forty-one dollars sixty—”

“Don't controvert no one,” said Mr. Snip, who
had listened all agape to the outpourings of the
other, and now turned his battery upon me again,
“but can't think of keeping the account open no
longer; don't want to be hard upon any gentleman,
but must have my money.”

“One hundred and forty-one dollars sixty cents,”
said Sniggles.

“Two hundred and thirty-seven,” said Snip.

But why should I detail the particulars of that
eventful hour? Even Tickle's courage sank before
the fire of the enraged assailants; and as for
mine, had it been fortified by a heart of steel and
ribs of brass, it must have yielded to the horrors
that followed. Duns follow the same laws as flies
and carrion-crows; no sooner does one swoop at a
victim, than down drop a thousand others to share
the feast. Scarce had my landlord and the tailor
begun the assault, when there sneaked into the room

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a consumptive-looking fellow, smelling strongly of
leather and rosin, who displayed a greasy scrap of
paper, and added his pipe to the others. Then
came another, with inky hands, a black spot on his
nose, and a new hat under his arm; then another,
and another, and another; until I believe there
were fourteen different souls in the room (or rather
bodies, for I don't think they had one soul among
them), all of them armed with long bills, all clamorous
for their money, and all (each being encouraged
by the example of the others) as noisy, mad,
and ferocious as any mob of free and independent
republicans I ever laid eyes on. Such a siege of
dunning was perhaps never endured, except by a
poor dandy. They dunned and they dinned, they
poked out their ugly bills, and they gave loose to
their inhuman tongues,—in a word, they conducted
in such a manner that I was more than once inclined
to jump out the window, being driven to
complete desperation.

In the midst of all, and when I saw no escape
whatever from my persecutions, they were brought
to a close by a most unexpected incident. The
door flew open, and in rushed—not a fifteenth tormentor,
as I expected—but an angel of light in the
person of Nora Magee, who screamed out at the
top of her voice,—

“Och, hinny darlint, your uncle, Misther Wiggins,
has come! and in a beautiful carriage! and
he looks as if he could pay your ditts twice over!
Sure, now, and ye'll ax him for my tin dollars?”

-- 170 --

p016-179 CHAPTER IX. The Author receives a visit from his uncle, Samuel Wilkins, Esq. , and is relieved from his tormentors.

Let the reader judge of the effect of such an
announcement upon my tormentors and myself. I
had an uncle, then, and he had arrived—nay, he
had paid me a visit, and was in the house; I could
hear him stumping up the stairs! My debtors were
struck dumb, and so was I; and at that moment of
confusion he stepped into the room. I looked at
the gentleman, and, upon my soul, I was somewhat
disappointed. His appearance was scarce genteel
enough for my uncle; he looked like a country
squire of low degree, who might pass for a man of
quality better in an unsophisticated village of the
backwoods than anywhere else; and he had an
atrocious white fur hat, with a big brim all puckered
and twisted like the outer casing of a cabbage.
There was a vulgar vivacity and good-nature about
his visage, an air of presumption and familiarity in
his motions, and his nose turned up. On the whole,
I did not like his appearance, and my first impulse
was to give him a look of contempt; but I recollected
he was my uncle, and had come in a carriage;
and seeing him stand staring about in great
astonishment, as not knowing what to make of such
a rout of ragamuffins as I had about me, nor how

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to distinguish his nephew among them, I stepped
up to him, and taking him by the hand, said,—

“My dear saw, ah! looking for me? What!
my uncle Wiggins?”

Wiggins!” said he; “ods bobs, don't you
know the name of your own uncle Wilkins?”

“Wiggins?” said I; “ged, 'twas a mere slip of
the tongue.”

“Ods bobs!” said he, “and is this you, Ikey, my
boy? The very picture of your aunt, poor Mrs.
Wilkins! but, ods bless her, she's dead. Ha'n't
seen you since you was a baby; do declare, you're
as big as Sammy. Come to live in your town,
Ikey, my dear; tired of living among the clodhoppers;
have plenty of money, and mean to be a
gentleman now. Glad to see you, Ikey; but I
say, Ikey, who is all these here people? Always
heard you was a great gentleman; but don't much
like your acquaintance, Ikey.”

This was pronounced in an under voice, much to
my satisfaction; for the liberty the old gentleman
took with my name was not grateful to my feelings.
Ikey, indeed! None but a vulgarian would have
made so free with me.

But he was my uncle, he said he was rich, and
I perceived he might be made serviceable.

I shook him by the hand a dozen times over,
swore “I was so glad to see him he could not conceive;”
assured him—in his ear—the fellows he
saw were ambitious cobblers and stitchers, who had
come to beg my favour and recommendation to the

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fashionable circles, for my countenance was a fortune,
and the rascals would persecute me; declared
my friend Tickle, who stood enjoying the scene
from a corner, was a young blood and intimate, who
had just lent me a thousand dollars to pay a poor
fellow who was in distress; and concluded by assuring
him, that as I did not like being obliged to a
man not a near kinsman, I would hand the sum
back again, and borrow it of him if he had brought
so much to town with him.

The warm welcome with which I began my
speech greatly delighted my uncle's heart, as I
saw; my apology for the appearance of the duns,
it was evident, caused him to look upon me as a
young fellow of great importance and distinction;
the reference to the young blood who had just
lent me a thousand dollars, confirmed his opinion
of my lofty stand among the rich and fashionable;
and to all these members of my discourse he
hearkened with respect and satisfaction; but when
I arrived at my climax, and professed a readiness
to borrow that sum of himself, I thought his
eyes would drop out of his head, they stared
out so far. In a word, I perceived that, let him
be as rich as he might, he was not the man to lend
me money; for which reason I despised the relationship
more than ever, and resolved to disown it
as soon as my convenience would permit. But it
was proper to make it useful at the present moment.

I turned round upon my duns, who were yet in

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confusion. “Gentlemen,” said I, giving them a bow
of dismission, “I will remember your claims; you
may depend upon me; but at present, as you see,
I must attend to those of my excellent uncle. You
understand me, ehem.”

“Ehem,” said they all; and I thought they
would have all turned somersets, so profound were
their congees, as, one by one, they sneaked out of
the room. The only ones who hesitated were
my landlord, Nora Magee, and Snip the tailor.
The first was probably overcome by a sense of
having dunned me too hard, and despair of forgiveness;
on which supposition I gave him a frown,
and waved my hand, and he retired. As for Nora,
she perhaps loitered to feast her eyes with the
spectacle of the rich man, from whose pockets
were to be drawn her ten dollars; but I gave her
a wink (a very vulgar way of conveying a hint, I
confess—but one can't be genteel with one's creditors),
and she rolled smiling away. What kept
the tailor I could not say; till, having given him
divers significant looks and gestures, he began to
drawl out, “Can't controvert no gentleman, but—”
when I stepped up to him, took him by the arm,
and led him from the apartment.

“What, you dog,” said I, in a familiar, affectionate
sort of way, as soon as I had him out of
my uncle's hearing, “do you want to raise a hubbub,
and put the old fellow in a passion? Come,
you rogue, your fortune's made:—seven grown
sons—seven broadcloth suits a year (extravagant

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dogs they!)—shall have them all, you shall, upon
my honour: can twist the young apes round my
finger, and you shall have'em. Seven times seven
is forty-nine, seven fifties is three thousand and
odd; 'ged and demmee, you'll make a fortune out
of them!”

With that I pushed the giggling cormorant
down stairs, and ran back to my uncle.

CHAPTER X. Some account of Sheppard Lee's country kinsmen.

Adieu!” said Tickle, giving me a nod, as much
as to say, “Make the most of the old gentleman;”
he then imitated the duns, and left me; a circumstance
for which I was not sorry, for I was somewhat
ashamed of my uncle.

“Fine-looking young fellow that,” said Mr.
Wilkins; “must be a rich dog to lend you a thousand
dollars. But I say, Ikey—”

“Uncle Wiggins—that is, Wilkins,” said I, “I
beg you won't call me by any such vulgar nickname
as Ikey. I can't abide nicknames; they
are horrid plebeian.”

“Ods bobs,” said my uncle, “I call my son
Sammy, Sammy and Sam too—”

“What,” said I, “have you a son?”

“Ods bobs!” said he; “why, didn't you know?

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I say, nevvy, your dad and me was never good
friends; proud as a turkey-cock—thought me a
democrat and no great shakes, but I snapped up his
sister though; and so there was never no love lost
between us: never knew much about one another,
especially him. But I say, nevvy, ods bobs, don't
be a fool, and despise like your dad; could buy
him six times over if he was alive, and don't suppose
you're much richer; and don't value you a
new pin. Don't pretend you didn't know I had a
son; might as well say you didn't know I had a
daughter.”

The old gentleman looked somewhat incensed:
I hastened to pacify him, by assuring him I had
had a violent fit of sickness and lost my memory.
I then drew from him without difficulty as much
of his history and affairs as I cared to know.

Although of a vulgar stock, his face had, somehow
or other, captivated the fancy of my father's
sister, who very ungenteelly ran off with him, and
accompanied him to some interior village of the
state, where the happy swain sold tapes and
sugar, that being his profession. Here, although
discountenanced and despised by his wife's family,
he gradually amassed wealth, and in course of
time mightily increased it, by laying his hands on
those four great staples of the Susquehanna, iron,
lumber, coal, and whiskey. In fine, having scraped
together enough for his purpose, he yielded to a
design which his wife had first put into his plebeian
head, and which his children, as they grew up,

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took care to stimulate into action: this was, to
exchange his village for the metropolis, his musty
warehouses for elegant saloons, and live, during
the remainder of his life, a nabob and gentleman;
and in this design, as I discovered, he expected to
derive no little aid from my humble self, who,
being, as he said, a gentleman cut and dried, and
knowing to all such matters, could give him a hint
or two about high life, and help his children, the
hopeful Sammy and the interesting Pattie (for
such were their horrid names), into good society.
The first step of his design he had already taken,
having wound up his business and got him to
Philadelphia, with his brats, both of whom were
now safely lodged in a hotel, burning to make the
acquaintance of their fashionable cousin, my distinguished
self; and to these worthy kinsfolk he
proposed to carry me forthwith.

I debated the matter in my mind: Should I acknowledge
the claims of a brace of rustics with
two such names? Sammy Wilkins! Pattie Wilkins!
I felt that an old coat or a patched shoe
could not more endanger my reputation, than two
cousins named Sammy and Pattie. But the old
man was rich, and some good might arise from my
condescension. I agreed to go with him, and asked
him at what hotel he had put up.

“Oh,” said he, “at a mighty fine place—the
What-d'-ye-call-it, in Market-street.”

“In Market-street!” said I, and I thought his
nose looked more democratic than ever. “

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Horrible! vulgar beyond expression! How came you
to stop in such a low place? Can't expect any decent
man to go nigh you. Must carry you to
Head's without a moment's delay, or you'll be ruined
for ever.”

“Ods bobs,” said my uncle, “it's a very good
tavern, with eating and drinking for a king; but if
it's not fashionable, sha'n't stay there no longer;
shall go with us, nevvy, and show us the way to
What-d'-ye-call-it's. The hack will just hold four.”

I go to a tavern in Market-street? The idea
was offensive; and ride thither, and afterward, my
three country kinsfolk with me, to Head's, in a
hackney-coach! The Market-street tavern and the
hackney-coach finished my uncle Wilkins. I suddenly
recollected a highly important engagement,
which would deprive me of the pleasure of going
round with my excellent uncle that moment, to
make the acquaintance of my worthy cousins; nay,
I feared it would occupy me all that evening, being
an engagement of a very peculiar nature. I would
see them the next day, when they were safely
lodged at Head's, whither I recommended Mr.
Wilkins to proceed, bag and baggage, instanter.
My uncle accepted my excuses, and agreed to follow
my advice, with a ready docility that might
have pleased me, seeing that it showed the respect
in which he held me; but I perceived in it nothing
more than a willingness to be put into leading-strings,
arising from his consciousness of inferiority.

I got rid of him, and resolved I would consider

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the pros and cons before compromising my reputation
by any public acknowledgment of relationship.

Then, being vastly tired by the varied business
of the day, I threw myself on my bed, where I
slept during the remainder of the day very soundly
and agreeably.

CHAPTER XI. Containing a morsel of metaphysics, with a short account of the Author's experience in good society.

I was roused about nine o'clock in the evening
by Tickle, who came, according to promise, to squire
me to Mrs. Pickup's and the Misses Oldstyle's;
and dressing myself in Mr. Dawkin's best, I accompanied
him forthwith to the mansion of the
former.

It was yet summer, and the season of gayety
was therefore afar off. All genteel people were,
or were supposed to be, out of town, according to
the rule which, at this season, drives the gentry of
London to their country-seats. The few of Philadelphia
who could imitate the lords and ladies in this
particular, were now catching agues on the Schuylkill;
while the mass, consisting of those whose
revenues did not allow any rustication on their
own lands, were killing sand-flies on the seashore,
or gnawing tough beef and grumbling over bad
butter at some fashionable watering-place in the

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interior. There were some, however, as there
always are, who considered themselves genteel,
and who stayed at home, either because they were
tired of agues, sand-flies, tough beef, and bad butter,
as they freely professed; because they really
believed they were better off at home; or because
they were, like me and my friend Tickle, not rich
enough to squander their money on vanities, and so
stayed at home from necessity.

Of such persons one can always, even in summer-time,
assemble enough to make a party of
some kind or other, where the contented guests
can be uncommonly sociable, eat ices, and pity
their friends, who may be at the moment roasting
in a ball-room at Saratoga.

It was undoubtedly a great misfortune that I
should make my first introduction to good society
at a time when it was to be seen only in its minimum
of splendour; whereby I lost the opportunity
of being dazzled to the same degree in which I
found myself capable of dazzling others. Nevertheless,
I was vastly captivated by what I saw,
and for the few brief weeks that my destiny permitted
me to live among the refined and exclusive,
I considered myself an uncommonly happy individual.

The reception I met at Mrs. Pickup's convinced
me that, in entering Mr. Dawkins's body, I had done
the wisest thing in the world; for, however much
it endangered me with the tailors, it proved the
best recommendation to the ladies. I found

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myself ushered into a suite of apartments magnificently
furnished and lighted, and not so over crowded (for
the season was taken into consideration) but that
the moschetoes had room to exercise their talents.
I thought I should be devoured by Mrs. Pickup,
she was so amazingly glad to see me; but
I perceived, by a sort of instinct I had acquired
along with Dawkins's body, that there was something
plebeian about her, although a very fine woman
as far as appearances went; and, indeed, Tickle
assured me she was a mere parvenue, or upstart,
whom everybody despised, and whom no one would
come nigh, were it not for her wealth, and the
resolution she avowed to give six different balls of
the most splendid character in the course of the
season. She had a daughter, who was very handsome,
and a decided speculation; but I did not
think much of her, especially as I found she was
already engaged to be married.

I found here that I knew everybody, or, what was
the same thing, that everybody knew me; and,
with Tickle's help, I soon found myself as much at
home with Mr. I. D. Dawkins's fair acquaintances
as if I had known them all my life. It was still,
as it had been before, a virtue and peculiarity of my
recollections, that they were always roused by a
few words of conversation with any one known to
my prototype; from which I infer, that the associations
of the mind, as well as many of its other
qualities, are more dependant upon causes in the
body than metaphysicians are disposed to allow.

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This dependance it has been my fate to know and
feel more extensively, perhaps, than any other man
that ever lived. The spirit of Sheppard Lee was
widely different from those of John H. Higginson
and I. D. Dawkins, as, I think, the reader must
have already seen; and yet, no sooner had it entered
the bodies of these two individuals, than the
distinction was almost altogether lost. Certain it
is, that in stepping into each, I found myself invested
with new feelings, passions, and propensities—
as it were, with a new mind—and retaining so little
of my original character, that I was perhaps
only a little better able to judge and reason on the
actions performed in my new body, without being
able to avoid them, even when sensible of their
absurdity.

I do verily believe that much of the evil and
good of man's nature arises from causes and influences
purely physical; that valour and ambition
are as often caused by a bad stomach as ill-humour
by bad teeth; that Socrates, in Bonaparte's body,
could scarce have been Socrates, although the combination
might have produced a Timoleon or Washington;
and, finally, that those sages who labour
to improve the moral nature of their species, will
effect their purpose only when they have physically
improved the stock. Strong minds may be indeed
operated upon without regard to bodily bias, and
rendered independent of it; but ordinary spirits lie
in their bodies like water in sponges, diffused
through every part, affected by the part's affections,

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changed with its changes, and so intimately united
with the fleshly matrix, that the mere cutting off of
a leg, as I believe, will, in some cases, leave the
spirit limping for life.

But, as I said before, I am not writing a dissertation
on metaphysics, nor on morals either; and as
my adventures will suggest such reflections to all
who care to indulge them, I will omit them for the
present, and hasten on with my story.

And here the reader may expect of me a description
of those scenes and persons in fashionable life
to which and whom I was now introduced; and if
I valued the reader's approbation at a higher price
than my own conscience and reputation, I should
undoubtedly gratify him, by putting my imagination
in requisition, and painting at once some dozen or
two of such fanciful pictures as are found in novels
of fashionable life, though never, I opine, in fashionable
life itself. In such I should have occasion
to represent gentlemen more elegant and witty, and
ladies more charming and ethereal, than are to be
found in any of the ordinary circles of society;
but, as I am writing truth and not fiction, and represent
things as I found, not as I imagined them, I
declare that the ladies and gentlemen of the exclusive
circles to which I was admitted, were very
much like the ladies and gentlemen of other circles—
that is, as elegant and witty as they could be,
and as charming and celestial as it pleased Heaven:—
and that, after due exercise of judgment and
memory, I cannot, in the adventures of three whole

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weeks in such society, remember a single person
or thing worth describing. For which reason I
will pass on to more important matters.

CHAPTER XII. Sheppard Lee makes the acquaintance of his cousin, Miss Pattie Wilkins.

Although I now look upon those three weeks
of my life as three weeks of existence out of
which I cheated myself, I was nevertheless so
greatly delighted at first by the way in which I
spent them, that I had almost forgotten my uncle
Wilkins; and when I did think of him, it was only
with renewed contempt and indifference. Finding,
however, that the old fellow had called upon me
three or four times during my absence from my
lodgings, on as many different days, and remembering
what he had said of his riches, it occurred
to me that I might as well pay him a visit, were it
only to satisfy Mr. Sniggles and Nora Magee, both
of whom manifested great uneasiness at my undutiful
conduct. It occurred to me, moreover, that
although my uncle Wilkins was not a lending man,
my cousin Sammy might be; and as I had now
existed four different days without a single sixpence
in my pocket, and began to be heartily
ashamed of such a state of things, I thought it
would be as well to pay the rustics a visit; and

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putting on a new coat which Snip had just sent me,
to seal our reconciliation and secure my seven extravagant
cousins, I started off forthwith.

As my evil luck would have it, I found the old
gentleman on the point of setting out to pay me a
fifth visit, and I had the satisfaction, just as I placed
my foot on the porch of the hotel, in full view of
some half a dozen respectable-looking people who
were congregated there, to receive an embrace from
Mr. Samuel Wilkins, with the old white fur hat,
accompanied by a vocal salutation of, “Oho! Ikey,
my boy, and so you have come, have you? Ods
bobs, but I began to think you was ashamed of
your relations.!”

“Not I,” said I; “I am never ashamed of my
relations.” And I looked around me with dignity,
so that all present might perceive I was condescending.
I supposed I should find some of the
spectators giggling, but was agreeably surprised
when I beheld among them nothing but grave looks
of respect. Indeed, two or three old gentlemen
that I knew by sight, and who were what you call
“stanch citizens”—that is, rich old fellows, not
very genteel, but highly respected—made me low
bows; and I heard one of them, as I passed with
my uncle into the hotel, whisper to another, “It is
the rich old rascal's nephew; quite a promising
young man.”

I began to feel a greater esteem for my uncle,
for I saw that others respected him. Everybody
seemed to know him and make way for him;

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seeing which, I grew more condescending than ever,
and instantly began to apologize for my seeming
neglect, by pleading that I had been engaged night
and day in preparing the way for the admission of
him and my cousins, Sammy and Pattie, into good
society.

“You want a house in a fashionable quarter,”
said I—

“Ods bobs,” said he, “yes; and I've been looking
all over town, from the glass-works down to
the navy-yard, and seen a power of them.”

“I flatter myself I can suit you,” said I, “and
better than you can yourself. Besides,” said I,
“I have been looking for carriages and horses.”

“Why,” said my uncle, “it's expensive keeping
horses in a city; and I was against it; but there's
Pattie says we can't do without 'em.”

“Exactly so,” said I: “you must live like a
gentleman, or there's no getting or keeping in society.
And, besides, I have been stirring up the
beaux and belles to come and see my cousin, the
fair—I say, uncle, eged, has she no other name than
Pattie?”

“Yes,” said my uncle Wilkins, “there's Abby,—
that's Abigail—Martha Abigail Wilkins; called
her after her grandmother and aunt, and hoped
aunt Abby would leave her something; but she
didn't.”

Martha Abigail Wilkins! Worse and worse;
I despaired of doing any thing, if I even wished it,
for a creature with such a name.

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But what I had done—that is, what I said I had
done (for I had done nothing), had produced a
great effect on my uncle, and put him into such a
good-humour with me, that he seized me by the
hand, swore I was the right sort of a dog after all,
and, reaching the door of his private parlour, where
the fair Martha Abigail was sitting, he kicked it
open, crying aloud,

“Here, Pattie, you puss, here's your cousin
Ikey, the dandy—as fine a whole-hog fellow as
ever you saw—ods bobs, give 'm a buss.”

I looked upon the unsophisticated rustic who
was called upon to manifest her breeding in such
an agricultural style; and, upon my soul, I was
quite surprised to find in her, the aforesaid Pattie
Abigail, one of the nicest little creatures I had ever
laid eyes on, of a most genteel figure, tolerably
well dressed, considering she had been brought up
in the country, and with a sweet, prudish face, that
was quite agreeable to look on.

She smiled and she blushed, then laughed and
blushed again; but, without waiting to be bidden
a second time, tripped up to me, gave me both her
hands, and saying, “Cousin Ikey, how do you do?”
with a voice that was charming in every word save
one—the infernal “Ikey”—she very innocently
turned her cheek up to be saluted.

I felt myself called upon to give her a lesson in
politeness, and therefore put my lips to her hand,
saying, “Cousin P—P—Pattie—ehem, the girls
will all call her petty-patty—Petty-patty Wilkins

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—I beg your pardon; but it is quite ungenteel and
vulgar to kiss a lady; that is to say, in common
cases. But—” As I spoke, I admired her beauty
the more, and began to think the etiquette in such
cases was absurd—“But, as we are cousins, I
think that alters the case entirely.”

And with that I paid my respects to her cheek,
and, upon my soul, was rather gratified than otherwise.
Nay, and upon an instinct which I know
not whether I owed to my soul or body, I made an
offer to repeat the ceremony, that I might be as
condescending as possible; when the little minx,
to my surprise and indignation, lifted up one of the
hands I had dropped, and absolutely boxed me on
the ear, starting away at the same time, and saying,
with a most mischievous look of retaliation,

“I reckon I know manners as well as anybody.”

“Ged, and upon my soul!” said I, and marched
up to the glass to restore my left whisker to its
beauty, for she had knocked it out of its equilibrium,
while my uncle Wilkins fell foul of her, and scolded
her roundly for her bad behaviour.

“It don't signify, pa,” said the amiable Pattie,
bursting into tears, “I served cousin Ikey no worse
than cousin Ikey served me; for when I wanted
him to kiss me he wouldn't; and if he had boxed
my ear it wouldn't have been half so bad; for it
was very rude of him not to kiss me, and say it was
vulgar, and he can't deny it.”

I have mentioned before, I think, the surprising
facility women seem to have of turning the tables

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upon a man, in any contest that may happen between
the sexes; for, let a man be never so much
in the right, my head for it, the woman will soon
prove him to be in the wrong.

I found the truth of the maxim on the present
occasion; for there was the pretty Pattie, who had
just shocked my sensibilities, wounded my self-love,
violated my dignity, and disordered my whisker,
by a buffet on the cheek, extremely well laid
on, considering the youth and sex of the bestower,
now weeping and bewailing the injury I had done
her, in moralizing over a kiss before taking it. It
occurred to me she was an uncommon goose; but
she looked so wonderfully handsome, pouting her
lips with such a beautiful pettishness, that I was
convinced I had treated her very badly; for which
reason I stepped up to her, and begged her pardon
so penitently, that she relented and forgave me, and
we were soon in a good-humour with one another.

She seemed to me to be an odd creature, disposed
to be whimsical and funny, and I rather feared
she was, at bottom, witty. I say, I feared she was
witty; and lest the reader should draw wrong inferences
from the expression, I think it right to
inform him, that, while recording my adventures in
the body of Mr. I. D. Dawkins, I feel my old
Dawkins habits revived so strongly in my feelings,
that I cannot avoid giving some of the colouring of
his character to the history of his body. I do not
presume to say what women should be, or what
they should not: in confessing a fear that my

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cousin Pattie was witty, I only record the horror with
which I, while a dandy, in common with all others
of the class, regarded any of the sex who were
smarter or more sensible than myself.

My cousin Pattie was, then, odd, whimsical, and,
I feared, witty; but that remained to be proved.
She certainly acted in a manner highly unsophisticated,
which arose from her youth (for my uncle
told me she was not yet eighteen), and her country
breeding. She had divers rusticities of speech,
and a frankness of spirit that would at any moment
burst out in weeping and wailing, or a fit of romping;
all which was horridly ungenteel, and a great
objection to genteel people taking notice of her.

But, on the other hand, she was a positive beauty;
and although she slouched about sometimes,
when forgetful, her movements were commonly
graceful and lady-like.

My judgment was therefore favourable: beauty,
grace, good clothes, and a grammatical way of
speaking, were, as far as I knew, the only requisites
for a fine woman, and I thought it was possible
to make her one. The two first requisites she already
possessed: good clothes were to be had of a
good milliner; and as for her conversation, I flattered
myself I could, in a few lessons, teach her to
subdue all redundances; for in that particular she
wanted nothing but pruning.

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p016-199 CHAPTER XIII. A further account of Miss Pattie Wilkins.

Having made these observations in the course
of a ten minutes conversation, I perceived I had no
longer any reason to be ashamed of her; but, on
the contrary, to congratulate myself on the relationship.
Then, permitting myself to be affectionate
and frank, as a near kinsman should, I gave her
freely to understand, that, with a little advice and
training, which I would undertake to give her in a
few lessons, she would be fit to shine in the very
best society: an admission that set my uncle into
an ecstasy of delight and triumph, while it somewhat
discomposed the fair Pattie. She gave me a hearty
stare (a thing I was glad to see, for it looked lady-like),
then coloured (a circumstance I did not approve
so much, since blushing is girlish and ungenteel),
and then burst out a laughing, and concluded
by seizing upon my hand, giving it a yeomanly
shake, and saying,

“Very well, cousin Ikey, you shall be my
schoolmaster, and teach me all you know; and, as
you say, I think you can teach me in a very few
lessons.”

And here she looked as meek, and quiet, and
almost as sanctimonious, as any saint I ever saw
of a Sunday.

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“Very good,” said I; “and the first lesson I
will give you is, never to call me `Ikey' again, for
that's vulgar; but always `Mr. Dawkins,' or just
plain `cousin;' or, as we are so nearly related, why,
I don't care if you call me by my middle name,
`Dulmer.' ”

“Wouldn't `Dully' be better?” said she, as
sweetly as could be: “it's more affectionate, and
cousins ought to be affectionate.”

“That's very true,” said I; and, upon my soul,
I thought her mouth was the handsomest I had ever
seen; “it is very true, but it don't do to be too familiar;
and, besides, Dully don't sound a whit better
than Pattie. I wish to ged you had a better
name than that; and yet it is the best of them all,
for `Martha' is kitchen-like, and `Abigail' wash-womanly—”

“And Pat,” said my cousin—

Pat!” said I, struck with horror—

“Yes, Pat!” said she, looking as if she would
cry again; “it is the most odious of nicknames,
and there's my brother Sam, who calls me so all day
long; and there's pa, who is not much better. But
I say, cousin, I hope you'll take them to schooling
too. I won't say any thing about pa; but I reckon
there's none of us will be the worse for a little rubbing
up.”

“Don't say `reckon,' ” said I, “nor `Sam' neither.
Ged, you have horrid names among you,
but we'll do the best we can. Pattie—Miss Pattie
Wilkins; well, the name is not so very bad. As

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for your brother, you must always call him `brother;
' occasionally you may say `Wilkins,' and it
will sound aristocratic, as being a family name.
But I say, uncle, we can't do any thing till we
have you in your own house; and, if you mean to
pass for a man of quality, it must be a grand one—
that is, as grand as can be had without building. I
say, uncle, if you please, what do you hold yourself
worth?”

“Ods bobs!” said my uncle, bristling up,
“what's that any man's business? Never blab a
man's capital, for—”

“Oh,” said Pattie, “Pa's always thinking about
trade and shop-keeping; but I'll tell you, for I
know all about it, for he told me six months ago,
and I know. He's worth two—” and here the little
beauty looked as if she designed to make me
her confidant at once, and swell my very soul with
the greatness of her revealment—“he's worth two
hundred and ninety thousand dollars; and when he
dies he is to leave me half. A'n't it grand?”

“To leave you half! one hundred and forty-five
thousand dollars?” said I, so confounded by a sudden
idea that entered my mind that I could not
even conceal it. “Hang it, if that's the case, but
I shall certainly marry you, and snap up that hundred
and forty-five myself.”

Would you?” said the imp, looking so lovely,
and innocent, and willing that I positively threw
my arms around her neck, as if the matter were
already settled.

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“Ods bobs!” said my uncle, “none of your
jokes here, nevvy!”

As for Pattie, she jumped out of my arms, though
apparently more pleased with the rudeness than
with my former want of enthusiasm, and ran laughing
to a chair.

“None of your jokes here, nevvy, I say,” cried
Mr. Wilkins; “and don't talk to Pattie about marrying,
for she has had enough of that already.”

“I ha'n't, pa,” said the daughter, beginning to
cry again; “you're always twitting me with Danny.
But I'm sure, if you're willing, I'd as lief
marry my cousin Ikey—that is, cousin Dulmer—
as anybody.”

“Who's Danny?” said I.

My uncle looked black, but Pattie answered
boldly,

“Why, my sweetheart, to be sure—Danny Baker—
one of the truest sweethearts you ever saw;
and oh, so handsome! But he was nothing but
one of pa's clerks, and so we turned him off between
us; and because I took his part, and said it
was no great harm in him to like me, pa is always
twitting me about him, and I can't abide it. If I
am to be twitted about everybody that likes me, I
should like to know where will be the end of it?”

I perceived that my little cousin had a good opinion
of herself, which was proper enough; but I
reprobated the good-will she extended to her admirer,
telling her that all clodhoppers were to be
despised, and that she must now think of being

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liked by none but fine gentlemen. My counsel, as
I discovered afterward, was peculiarly acceptable
to my uncle, and greatly increased his respect for
me; and as for Pattie, she dried her eyes, and
said “she had as much spirit as anybody, but
Danny Baker was no fool, for all we might say of
him.”

In short, the interview was much more satisfactory
than I had dared to anticipate; and finding my
uncle and cousin were eager to have my instructions
and assistance, so as to begin the world as
soon and with as much eclat as possible, I summoned
my wisdom, and laid down the law to them
forthwith. A house was to be immediately had;
and recollecting the state of Mr. Periwinkle Smith's
affairs, I recommended that my uncle should make
proposals for his dwelling, which was just the house
required, and which I supposed Mr. Smith, or the
sheriff for him, would soon bring to the hammer.
Nay, in the exuberance of my affection, I offered
to begin the negotiation myself, and visit Mr. Periwinkle
Smith that day; whereby I might have an
opportunity to return my thanks for his friendly assistance
at the Schuylkill, without exciting any
false hopes in the bosom of his daughter, which I
feared might be the result if I went without an object.

I then discoursed on the subject of carriages
and horses, furniture, tailors, and mantuamakers,
and with such effect, that I perceived I should
have the control of all my uncle's affairs, directing

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his expenses, and making all his purchases; which
I saw would be highly advantageous in reinstating
my credit, even if it led to no better profit.

CHAPTER XIV. A short chapter, containing an account of the Author's cousin, Samuel Wilkins, Jr.

Having debated these matters to my satisfaction
and theirs, I was about taking my leave, when my
cousin Sammy unexpectedly entered the apartment.

His appearance struck me dumb, and filled me
with mingled terror and despair. What could I do
with such a scarecrow? His appearance was
death to my hopes of making the family fashionable.
He was a raw youth of twenty or twentyone,
but six feet high, long-legged, lantern-jawed,
and round-shouldered. He wore a white hat, like
his father, but stuck upon his head with a happy
contempt of order and symmetry; and his coat
hung down in a straight line from his shoulders, as
if cut to fit the wall of a house. He walked with
a lazy, grave swagger, indicative of vast serenity
of mind and self-regard, and—until I cured him of
the habit—with both hands in his pockets. There
was not an ounce of brain in his whole head, big as
it was; though, from the gravity with which he
stared and whistled one in the face (for staring and

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whistling were two of his greatest characteristics),
it might have been supposed otherwise. I will not
say the clown was ugly in visage or deformed in
person; but he was a slouch from head to foot.
One could see at a look that he considered himself
a gentleman, that he lived in the country, and that
the highest exercise of his gentility had been to
stalk about from one mud-hole to another, with his
hands in his pockets.

He did not seem at all daunted by my appearance,
but, having surveyed me with his great staring
eyes, he dragged one of his fists out of his pocket
and gave me a friendly grasp, very much like the
pinch of a bear. “Glad to see you; hope you're
well,” he said, and said no more, but remained observing
me with extreme gravity during the remainder
of the conference. When I got up to depart
he rose also, and, though I could have well dispensed
with such an escort, attended me to the
door. He uttered not a word until we came within
view of the bar, when the great oaf opened his lips,
and said, with an extremely knowing look, “I say,
Ikey, my boy, suppose we take a smaller?”

“A smaller!” said I, indignantly; “gentlemen
in a city never drink smallers.”

“Well, then,” said the goose, “I don't care if we
go the whole gill.”

“Come,” said I, commiserating his ignorance,
“you must never more talk of such things. None
but vulgarians drink strong liquors; slings,

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cocktails, and even julaps are fit only for bullies. Gentlemen
never drink any thing but wine.”

“Wine's small stuff,” said my kinsman, with
great equanimity; “but I'm for any thing that's
genteel, and dad says you're the boy for showing
us. But, od rabbit it, it's a hard thing to play the
gentleman in a place where you a'n't up to it; but
I say, now, how do you think we'll do—me and
Pat?”

I could scarce avoid laughing in the booby's face,
he asked his question with such simplicity and
complacency. I perceived that, notwithstanding
his lazy serenity and stolid gravity, he was as anxious
to be made genteel as either of the others, and
quite as ready to submit to my guidance. I told
him I had no doubt he would do very well when I
had polished him a little, which I would soon do;
and I resolved to begin the task without delay. I
carried him to a private apartment, ordered a carriage,
and a bottle of Chateau-Margaux to amuse us
while it was getting ready, and gave him to understand
I would immediately take him to a tailor's;
and this I did in a very short time, to the infinite
delight of my friend Snip, whom I ordered to make
three or four different suits for him, without troubling
myself to ask his opinion about either. I then
carried him in the same way to a hatter, shoemaker,
and man-milliner, leaving the jeweller, watchmaker,
and so on, for a future occasion.

These important matters being accomplished,
greatly to my own advantage, for I took care to

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speak of my uncle Wilkins in a way to produce
the strongest effect, I ordered the coachman to
drive up to Mr. Periwinkle Smith's, whither I
thought I might as well proceed while I had a
coach to carry me. I gave my gawky cousin to understand
my business was to buy the house for his
father, at which he expressed much satisfaction
(for everybody in Philadelphia knows the house is
a very fine one), and a desire to help me examine
it; but telling him there were many fine ladies
there, who must not see him till he was properly
dressed, I charged him to wait for me in the coach
until I returned.

CHAPTER XV. In which Sheppard Lee visits Mr. Periwinkle Smith and his fair daughter, and is intrusted with a secret which both astonishes and afflicts him.

I pulled the bell with a most dignified jerk, and
asked for Mr. Smith. But the servant, who grinned
with approbation as at an old acquaintance, and
doubtless considered that he knew more about the
matter than myself, as Philadelphia servants usually
do, ushered me into the presence of Mr.
Smith's fair daughter.

“Ah!” said I to myself, as I cast my eye around
the apartment, and saw that her levee consisted of
but a single beau—a stranger whom I did not

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know, but who, I learned afterward, was a young
millionaire from Boston—“the world begins to
suspect the mortgages, and friends are falling away.
Poor dear Miss Smith!”—And I felt great compassion
for her.

She seemed somewhat surprised at my appearance,
and I thought she looked confused. She
was a marvellous fine creature, and I was quite
sorry she was not rich.

I saw she had a sneaking kindness for me yet;
but it was not right to encourage her. I hastened,
therefore, to express my thanks for the sympathy
which I had been informed she had bestowed on
me, on the memorable occasion of my dip in the
Schuylkill; and regretted that the indisposition
consequent upon that disaster had prevented my
calling earlier. I had not met the fair lady at Mrs.
Pickup's or the Misses Oldstyle's, or at the other
two place where I had figured during the last four
evenings; and although it was highly probable
she knew my indisposition had not prevented my
going to these places, yet my not seeing her made
the excuse perfectly genteel and fair. Yet she
looked at me intently—I thought sadly and reproachfully—
for a moment, and then, recovering
herself, expressed her pleasure to see me so well
restored, and ended, with great self-possession, by
presenting me to her new admirer. After this her
manner was cooler, and I thought her pique rendered
her a little neglectful. It was certain she
wished me to observe that she had a high opinion

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of the new Philander; a circumstance to which I
was not so indifferent as I ought to have been.
But, in truth, she was an elegant soul, and the
more I looked at her the more I regretted she was
not a fortune. I felt myself growing sentimental,
and, to check the feeling, I resolved to proceed to
business.

I had no sooner asked after the old gentleman,
and expressed a desire to see him, than she gave
me a look that bewildered me. It expressed surprise
and inquiry, mingled with what I should
have fancied contempt, could I have believed anybody
could entertain such a feeling for me. She
rang the bell, ordered my desire to be conveyed to
her father, and in a few moments I was requested
to walk up stairs to his study, where I found him
in company with a gentleman of the law and a
broker, whose face I knew, and surrounded with
papers.

“Ah!” said I to myself, “things are now coming
to a crisis; he is making an assignment.”

The gentleman of the law and the broker took
their departure, and Mr. Periwinkle Smith gave
me a hard look. I began to suspect what he was
thinking of; he was perhaps looking for me to
make a declaration in relation to his fair daughter.

That he might not be troubled with such expectation
long, I instantly opened my business,
and gave him to understand I came to make proposals
(he opened his eyes and grinned) for his
house (he looked astounded), which, I had heard,
he was about to dispose of.

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“Indeed!” said he, and then fell to musing
a while. “Pray, Mr. Dawkins,” said he, “who
sent you upon this wise errand?”

I did not like his tone, but I answered I came
on the part of my uncle, Samuel Wilkins, of Wilkinsbury
Hall—for I thought it as well to make
my kiusman's name sound lordly.

“Very good,” said he; “but what made you
suppose I intended to sell my property?”

I liked this question still less than the other,
and mumbled out something about “common report,”
and the “general talk of my acquaintance.”

“Ah!” said he, “now I understand,” giving me
a grin which I did not. “Let us be frank with
one another. There was something said about
`mortgages,' was there not?—a heavy weight on
my poor estate?”

Thinking it was useless to mince the matter, I
acknowledged that such was the report.

“And it is from the influence of that report I am
to understand some of the peculiarities of your—
that is to say, it is to that I am to attribute your
present application? Really, Mr. Dawkins, I am
afraid I can't oblige you; my house I like very
well, and— But I'll admit you to a little secret;”
and smiling with great suavity, he laid his hand on
a pile of papers. “Here,” said he, “are mortgages,
and other bonds, to the amount of some seventy
thousand dollars; they are my property, and not
mortgages on my property. The truth is (and, as
you are an old friend, I don't scruple to tell you),

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that having a little loose cash which I did not know
what to do with, I took the advice of a friend, and
invested it in the form in which you now see it,
and I believe it is very safe. The story of the
mortgages was quite true, only it was told the
wrong way.”

I was petrified, and stood staring on the old gentleman
with awe and amazement.

“Some people,” said he, very good-naturedly,
“might doubt the propriety, and even the honourableness,
of a private gentleman investing money
in this way; but stocks are at a high premium,
and many unsafe, and money can't lie idle:—I hope
you are satisfied: I am quite sorry I can't oblige
your uncle. My house, as I said, I like extremely
well; and I have, besides, promised it as a wedding-present
to my daughter.”

Oh, ye gods of Greece and Rome! a wedding-present
to his daughter! I resolved to make her
a proposal without delay, and I thought I might as
well break matters to the old gentleman.

“Your daughter,” said I, “your beloved and excellent
daughter—”

“Will doubtless always be happy to welcome
her old friend and admirer, Mr. Dawkins,” said he;
and I thought he looked beautiful—though I never
thought so before. He could not have spoken
more plainly, I thought, if he had said “marry
her,” at once. I took my leave, intending to make
love to her on the spot.

“I will have the pleasure to see you to the door,”

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said the old gentleman, and to the door he did see
me. I do not well know how it happened; but
instead of entering the parlour again, I found myself
led to the front door by the courteous Mr.
Smith, and bowed handsomely out, to the great
satisfaction of my cousin Sammy, who regarded
proceedings from the carriage window.

“Good morning,” said Mr. Periwinkle Smith;
“I can't sell my daughter's house, but I should be
glad to have you for a neighbour; and, now I recollect
it, there's Higginson the brewer's house
over the way there advertised for sale, and I am
told it is very well finished.”

“So am I,” said I to myself, as the door closed
on my face—“finished unutterably.” It occurred
to me I was turned out of the house; and the suspicion
was soon very perfectly confirmed. I called
on the fair Miss Smith the next day, and, though
I saw her by accident through the window, I was
met by the cursed fib—“not at home.” The same
thing was told me seven days in succession, and on
the eighth I saw, to my eternal wo and despair,
her marriage with my Boston rival announced in
the papers. He lives in Philadelphia, and can
confirm my story. But this is anticipating my
narrative.

“I say, Dawkins,” cried my cousin Sammy (I
had cured him of the vulgar `Ikey'), “what does
the old codger say?”

These words, bawled by the rustic from the carriage
window, woke me from a trance into which I

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had fallen, the moment Mr. Periwinkle Smith shut
the door in my face.

“Didn't he say there was a house over the way?”

I remembered the words,—my own house for
sale! I knew it well; it was just the thing wanted,—
an elegant house, provided genteel people
were in it. I was on the point of running over and
securing it, when I remembered Mrs. Higginson.
A cold sweat bedewed my limbs. “No!” said I,
“I will go to Tim Doolittle—I can face him.”

To make matters short—for I have a long story
to tell—I drove up to Higginson's brewery (it is
now Doolittle and Snagg's, or was, when I heard
last of it), saw my late brother-in-law, whom I
thought a very plebeian body, and made such progress
with him, that in three days' time (for my
Margaret had gone to mourn in the country) the
house changed owners, and my uncle Wilkins
marched into it as master, followed by Sammy and
Pattie.

CHAPTER XVI. Containing much instructive matter in relation to good society, whereby the ambitious reader can determine what are his prospects of entering it.

Three days after I had established my uncle in
his new house, the fair Miss Smith was married.

It was a great blow to me, and I mused with
melancholy on the fickleness of the sex, wondering

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what it was in woman's nature that enabled her so
easily to change from one love to another. I considered
myself very badly used; and the more I
thought of the wedding-present, and the seventy
thousand dollars in bonds and mortgages, the more
deeply did I feel my loss. I read the announcement
of her marriage in the newspaper, cursed her
inconstancy and hard-heartedness, and gave myself
up to grief the whole morning. She had certainly
used me ill, but by dinner-time I remembered I
had served her pretty much in the same way.

Besides, my cousin Pattie (I always dined with
my uncle Wilkins, of course, and intended soon to
live with him altogether) looked uncommonly
handsome, and “Who knows,” said I to myself,
“whether she won't have more than Miss Smith,
after all?” In addition to this great consolation, I
had another in a few days; and the two together
quite comforted me for the loss of Periwinkle's
daughter. But of this in its place.

In three days' time, as I have mentioned, I had
my uncle Wilkins in his new house, and was busy
polishing the family. But the task was harder than
I supposed. The rusticities of my uncle were inveterate;
and as for Sammy, the only change I
could effect in him was such as the tailor effected
for me. I found him a clown, and a clown I left
him. I should have given him up after the first
day, had it not been that his father kept him pretty
well supplied with pocket-money; which was an
advantage to me, for I never could borrow any thing

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of my uncle. I therefore treated him civilly, and
carried him about to divers places, taking good care,
however, that he should not fall into the hands of
my friend Tickle, or any other poor dandy.

My cousin Pattie was more docile; and I perceived
that as soon as I should cure her of a mischievous
habit she had of playing tricks upon everybody
in the house, and myself too, upon occasions,
she would be fit for any society.

As soon as my uncle had procured a carriage,
(and I took care it should be a good one—I made
an effort to buy my fine old thousand-dollar bays,
but Mr. Doolittle would not part with them), I took
her out airing and shopping, to teach her how
to behave in public; and I contracted with Mrs.
Pickup, who lived close by, and who it was supposed,
on account of her six balls, would make a
favourable sensation, to chaperon her for the season.
I took care to bestow her patronage among
the aunts and sisters of my tradespeople in such a
way as to advance my own credit; and thinking
it would be to my advantage to have such a friend
near her, I recommended Nora Magee to her for a
maid, although Nora was not quite so genteel as I
should have wished.

In short, I did every thing that was proper to
prepare her way for the approaching season; and
as soon as I thought her fit to receive company,
went round among all the leading fashionables, and
requested them to visit her.

It was here that the invaluable nature of my

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services on behalf of my country kinsfolk was
shown, as I took care to make them understand;
for without me to help them, or some other equally
genteel person, my uncle and cousins might as
well have tried to get into Congress as into good
society. My request was not granted until I had
answered ten thousand different questions, and
removed as many scruples, on the part of the monarchs
of the mode. There were a thousand reasons
why my uncle's family should be denied admission
into that elegant society they were so ambitious
to enter; and nothing but the force of my
recommendations ensured them success.

My labours on this occasion made me familiar
with the principles upon which republican aristocratic
society is founded; and as these principles
are not universally understood, even in America, I
think I can do nothing better than explain them,
for the benefit of all my young and aspiring readers.

The pretensions of any individual to enter the
best society of the republic depend upon his
respectability; and the measure of this is determined
by the character of his profession, if he
have one—if not, by that of his father. I never
knew even the most exclusive and fastidious of
examiners to carry his scrutiny so far back as a
grandfather; for, indeed, all our grandfathers in
America were pretty much alike, and the sooner
we forget them the better.

The first profession in point of dignity is that of

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a gentleman, who has nothing to do but to spend
his revenue, if he has one. There are some gentlemen
well received in good society who live upon
their wits; but they are born in it. Poor gentlemen,
not already in society, had better not try to
get into it; for rich men who have romantic daughters
are afraid of them. A gentleman, then, always
stands a fair chance of being admitted; and if his
father was of a respectable profession, he is received
with open arms. The preference accorded to
this class is just, since founded upon nature. All
occupations are more or less disgraceful; a strong
proof of which is found in the fact that all primitive
nations, such as the Hottentots, and North
American Indians, look upon them with contempt,
considering idleness and war as the only business
for gentlemen. Providence, indeed, ordained that
men should live by the sweat of their brows; but
it is horrid ungenteel to do so.

The next profession in point of dignity is law;
and lawyers, as I may say, form the true effective
nobility of America; for though the mere gentlemen
deem themselves higher and purer, they are
pretty generally considered by others as only the
lady-dowagers of society. But the lady-dowagers
sometimes consider the gentility of lawyers doubtful.

The third profession is that of arms, which owes
its consideration mainly to the women; who,
although the ministers of love and mercy to man,
are wondrous fond of those who deal in blood

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and gunpowder. These are the only respectable
professions in America.

Divinity, physic, merchandise, agriculture, and
politics, are the only others from which a man is
occasionally allowed to enter good society. But
they are considered low, and it is only peculiar circumstances
which can give any of their followers
a claim to rise.

I have said that the claim of the gentlemen to
consider themselves the highest class is founded
in nature. They form the nucleus of society,
and around them, as they are admitted, the members
of the other professions establish the grand
order of fashion. According to their creed, law is
a respectable profession, because it keeps down
the mob, or people, by keeping them constantly by
the ears, and because it makes money; and arms
they hold to be reputable, because it does the same
thing, and paves the way to the presidency. Divinity
and physic they consider to be naturally low
occupations, since their provinces are only to take
care of dirty souls and bodies. Merchandise is
denounced, since it consists of both buying and
selling, whereas, buying is the only part of traffic
that is fit for a gentleman. Agriculture is contemned,
because there are so many clodhoppers
engaged in it; and politics, because it demands
consociation with the mob.

In these five professions, however, certain fortunate
circumstances may give a claim to notice. Parsons
(who are often doctors of divinity and always

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reverends) and physicians are titled gentry, and this
counts in their favour; and the same thing may be
said of politicians, when they rise to be secretaries
of departments or foreign ministers, or become
renowned as orators: great distinction will secure
them favour, for they are then people that people
look at. Merchants are allowed to be respectable
as soon as they are worth a million, provided they
have two or three daughters and no sons, and are
willing to be splendid in their entertainments. An
agriculturist of our own latitudes can never expect
to be made respectable; but a planter of cotton
or tobacco, who owns a hundred negroes, and
puts the name of his farm or the county he lives
in after his own, has as good a chance as any.

All other classes are vulgar and mechanical,
and therefore ineligible. Men of science and genius
are excluded on account of their manners,
which are outlandish, and their arrogant display of
superiority, which is disagreeable; and as for the
actors, dancers, and singers that are sometimes met
with, the two first are admitted, because they are
foreign and famous, and the last, because they bring
good music for nothing.

From this exposition of the code of society, it
will be seen that my uncle Wilkins could boast but
slender claims to an introduction. His occupation
had been vulgar, and he had not made money
enough to ennoble him. I trebled his two hundred
and ninety thousand, as is usual, but I could not

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deny that his son was named Sammy, and his
daughter Pattie.

But what spoke highly in his favour was, that
whatever had been his profession, he had now
abandoned it, with the praiseworthy intention of
living a gentleman during the remainder of his life;
and what was also advantageous, he had pursued it
at such a distance from the haunts of fashion that
his new friends might, with the greatest propriety,
affect an entire ignorance of it.

His having a daughter, too, and but one son to
divide with her his eight hundred and seventy thousand—
that is to say, his two hundred and ninety—
was also a strong recommendation to those mammas
who had sons to provide for; and his determination
to indulge the fair Pattie in as many balls and parties
as she desired, was another circumstance to
propitiate favour.

But, to crown all, I countenanced him; and that
settled the matter. In a few days' time there was
such a rattle and trampling at the brewer's door as
had never been known before. The whole square
was in commotion, being choked up with carriages;
and such was the throng of genteel people rushing
into the house, that an unsophisticated dealer in
second-hand furniture, supposing there was an auction
to be held, stalked into the parlour, and electrified
everybody by wondering, in the way of a
question not addressed to any particular person,
“when the sale was to begin?”

In short, the thing was settled; my uncle was

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dubbed a gentleman, and every occurrence went to
show that in the approaching season his rank would
be confirmed, and his daughter recognised as a
belle by everybody in town.

But before that time a change came o'er the
spirit of my fate, and— But I shall confess the
whole affair to the reader.

CHAPTER XVII. In which Sheppard Lee relates the passion he conceived for his fair cousin, and his engagement to elope with her.

My uncle Wilkins, it seems, was not merely ambitious
to get into good society; he was ambitious
to have his daughter married, and, as he said, into
the best family in the land: an object not very difficult
to compass, considering the fortune he intended
to leave her. But my uncle was resolved
her husband should be rich as well as distinguished;
and I discovered the old curmudgeon had an
extreme horror of poverty. Perhaps one of the
strongest reasons for his leaving the country was a
fear he had lest his adorable daughter should be
snapped up by that aforesaid Danny Baker, whom
my cousin had pronounced “one of the truest and
handsomest sweethearts I ever saw;” although I
never saw him at all, nor, indeed, any other extremely
true and handsome sweetheart of the male

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gender in all my life; for those that are true are
ugly, and those that are handsome are as uncertain
as politics. I say this was my uncle's fear, and,
indeed, he confessed to me his belief that Pattie
had really a sneaking kindness for the young rustic;
for which reason he was anxious to have her
married as soon as possible.

I may here observe, that if a bachelor is to judge
of the excellence of love by the character of its
vocabulary, he will discover no stirring reason to
lament his insensibility. All the expressions on
the subject go to show that there is something
mean and contemptible in the tender passion, which
men otherwise profess to be the most heavenly of
the passions—as if, indeed, heaven had any thing
to do with any of them. The moment a man begins
to think a woman uncommonly charming, he
is said to cast “a sheep's eye” on her; when he
feels a friendship for her, it becomes “a sneaking
kindness;” and the moment his heart is in a hubbub,
he is “deep in the mire.” From these terms,
and others that might be mentioned, it results as I
have said, namely—that men and women who have
experienced the tender passion, are, notwithstanding
their pretences to the contrary, really ashamed
of it; that a lover is a sheep and a sneaking fellow,
ordained to grovel in the mud at the feet of his
mistress; and, finally, that a bachelor has no good
reason to execrate his stars for keeping him single.

But I had other notions when I was in Mr. I. D.
Dawkins's body.

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I was entirely of my uncle's way of thinking, and
proposed to take her myself; to which my uncle
replied, in some perturbation, “None of your jokes
there, Ikey, my boy;” and gave me plainly to understand
that was a thing he would never think of.
Nay, the proposition seemed to him so unpalatable,
that I was compelled to pretend I had made it entirely
in jest; though I demanded, supposing I had
been serious, what objection he could have to me.
“Oh, none in the world,” said he, “except your being
so near of blood; for a cousin-german is almost
the same as a brother.”

I understood the old hunks better than he
thought; he had, somehow or other, found out that
I had spent my fortune, and was therefore, in that
particular, no better off than Mr. Danny Baker. I
saw, too, clearly enough, that he only valued me
as a sort of stepping-stone into society; and that,
having once had all the advantage of me he could,
he would be ready to forget all my benefits. The
curmudgeon! he had found out I had been borrowing
money of his son Sammy, and he was already
longing for the time to come when he might safely
discard me.

I resolved to marry Pattie in spite of him; and
began to cast about for some device by which to
secure her share of his two hundred and ninety
thousand, which it was more than probable he
would withhold, in the event of her marrying against
his will. This device I soon hit upon.

I told him there was, among all my

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acquaintance, not above one man whom I could recommend
as a husband for Pattie; for though there were
dozens of genteel young fellows, fortunes were by
no means so plentiful. My friend Tickle, I assured
him, was just the man,—a little gay, to be sure; indeed,
quite dissipated; and, what was worse, an
enemy to matrimony; which was the more extraordinary,
as by marrying he might come at once
into possession of a splendid fortune. And thereupon
I told him that Jack's father, who was a saint
in his way, and a bigot, to reclaim him, had, by will
(for I assured him the poor man was dead), bequeathed
his superb estate to him only upon
condition that he married before the expiration of
five years; failing in which, the whole property,
now in the hands of trustees, would revert to other
persons, with the exception of a shabby annuity of
a thousand a year. The five years, I told my
uncle Wilkins, were now nearly expired, and Jack,
being in some alarm, was already expressing an
inclination to seek a spouse; but she must be a
rich one, otherwise he would never think of her.

This story, which I fabricated for the purpose,
produced a strong effect upon my uncle Wilkins;
and I concluded it by recommending he should
without delay settle half his fortune upon Pattie, by
legal grant of dedi et concessi, as the lawyers call
it, and register the same; in which event, I would
do all I could to bring the marriage about, not
doubting that we should succeed, since Pattie was,
as I averred, just the sort of girl that Tickle liked.

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My uncle was rather dumbfounded at the last
proposal, and swore he would do no such thing.
“He was not going,” he said, “to bribe anybody
to take his girl off his hands, not he; she should
have her share when he was dead, and if she married
to his liking, why she should have something
before. I might bring my friend Tickle to see her
if I would, and he would see what he thought of
him.”

My uncle put a bold face upon the matter, but I
perceived he was eager to make the acquaintance
of my friend Tickle, and would be soon brought to
reason. And, indeed, after having seen the intended
son-in-law, and listened some half a dozen times
over to my arguments, he opened his heart so far
as to settle the sum of forty thousand dollars upon
Pattie, which—or rather the yearly interest of that
sum, for the crafty old sly-boots took care to constitute
himself trustee for the girl, and retain the
principal in his own hands—he conditioned to pay
her after her marriage.

I was provoked at his stinginess; but as no better
terms could be had, I thought I might as well
bring the matter to a conclusion, trusting that something
better would turn up after my marriage.

I say my marriage, for I had no thoughts of bestowing
forty thousand dollars, or the interest thereof,
upon my friend Tickle. I made him my confidant
in the matter, and easily prevailed upon him
to assist me in deceiving my uncle Wilkins, by appearing
to Pattie in the light of a wooer. As for

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Pattie herself, who, I was persuaded, had fallen in
love with me at first sight, I made her a declaration,
which diverted and delighted her beyond expression;
and revealing to her also my project to secure
her an independence, she agreed to do her
part in the play, pretend a great fancy for Mr.
Tickle, and run away with me, the moment her father
should make her the grant in question.

The grant was made, as I mentioned before;
but by that time I was in a dilemma, having made
an engagement to elope with another lady, who was
in some respects highly attractive, and had fallen
devouringly in love with me. Indeed, I may say,
she made me the first offer, though it was not leap-year;
but her situation excused her, especially as
it was I she made love to. She was, the reader
will be surprised to learn, the daughter of old Skinner,
or Goldfist, the usurer; and she was rather
handsome than otherwise. The engagement was
brought about as will be shown in the next chapter.

CHAPTER XVIII. In which Sheppard Lee recounts an engagement of a similar nature which he formed with the fair Alicia.

My creditors, looking with great certainty for
their money, now that my long-talked-of uncle had
got to town, having waited a couple of weeks for

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payment in vain, began to besiege me in a highly
importunate way; and as no assistance was to be
had of my uncle, and Sammy's purse was not so
well filled as I could have wished, I was reduced
to great straits.

Conversing on this subject with my friend Tickle,
he advised me to visit old Goldfist, as I (that is,
my prototype, the true Dawkins) had often done
before, and see what could be had out of him on
the strength of my projected nuptials.

The advice being as good as could be had (for
Tickle's pockets were as empty as my own), I proceeded
to the old fellow's house after nightfall—
for I did not care to be observed.

Having knocked at the door, it was opened by no
less a person than Skinner's fair daughter herself,
as I soon discovered; and, in fact, I had some faint
recollection of having seen her before. There was
a lamp on the pavement before the door, by which
I could see her very plainly. She blushed, and
smiled, and looked confused, and when I asked for
her father, made me some answer which I did not
understand; but, as she invited me to enter, I followed
her into the house, expecting to be led to the
money-lender. She conducted me, however, to a
parlour, not over and above well furnished, for
Skinner was a notorious skinflint, when, having
vouchsafed to converse with her a while, I again
asked after her father.

She told me he was not at home; but seeing me
rise to depart, she stammered out an assurance

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that he would soon return; which caused me to
resume my seat, evidently to her great pleasure.

Seeing this, I condescended to make myself
agreeable, and with such effect, that the simple-hearted
foolish creature began to tell me how often
she had seen me at her father's house a year or
two before, when she was a little school-girl, as
she said, and how glad she was to see me back
again; as if, a year or two before, we had been intimate
acquaintances; when, on the contrary, as my
associations assured me, I (or my original) had
never taken the slightest notice of her—as, in truth,
why should I, her father being so much beneath me?

I believe I rather gave her a stare; but she
looked so admiringly at me, I could do no less than
continue to be agreeable; and, to tell the truth, I
was afterward amazed at my condescension.

By-and-by there dropped in one of her brothers,
a very fine looking young man for one of his rank
in life, but of a dissipated, under-the-table look,
and, I thought, somewhat julapized—which is a
word that, among certain classes, signifies that one
is not sober. However, he behaved with great decorum,
and instead of taking a seat, as I expected,
to make my acquaintance, he gave me a nod and a
laugh, as much as to say, “I know what you're
after, my boy,” and went stumbling into the back
part of the house.

In a few moments after there came another
equally good looking, but not so obliging; for he
helped himself to a seat without any ceremony,

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and, with just as little, proceeded to inform me “he
supposed I was after dad; but dad was fast on an
arbitration, and would not be home for at least
three hours.”

Poor Alicia, for that was her name (and in this
particular she was better provided than my cousin
Pattie), gave her brother an angry look; for at this
announcement I got up and took my leave. She
followed me, however, to the door, and told me if
I would come at about eight o'clock on the following
evening, I would find her papa at home; and
she added, softly, that she would be glad to see
me.—She glad to see me! poor soul!

I went, though, according to appointment; and,
poor soul, she was glad to see me, as was plain
enough, but “sorry that papa had not yet got
through with that arbitration; and so I could not
see him, unless I would be so good as to wait until
he came home; and, if I would, it would be charity,
for there was nobody in the house with her
except old Barbara, the housekeeper, who was but
poor company,—and, indeed, she had but poor
company always, living a very lonesome life of it,”
&c. &c.; and she concluded by promising, if I
would sit down, to play me a tune upon the piano!

She played me a tune accordingly, and horrid
work she made of it; but, as she did her best, I
praised her, and that pleased her. She then, to
show me that she was accomplished, introduced me
to divers bits of paper with colours on them, which
she told me were drawings, and, as I knew but

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little of such things, I took her word for it; after
which she exhibited some two or three dozen handsome-looking
volumes in French and Italian, of
which languages I knew no more than dandies in
general; and for that reason I told her such things
were now considered bores, and left to children and
schoolmasters.

I perceived we were to have a tête-à-tête of it,
and I began to suspect the lassie knew so when
she invited me. When this idea entered my mind,
I felt a little indignant; yet it was diverting to think
of her simplicity. I thought I would amuse myself
with her a little while, and unbend from the
austerity of dignity, which seemed to gratify her
most.

In this humour I permitted myself to be merry
and easy; and having romped with her one way
and another, much to her delight, I at last seized
upon her, and gave her a buss; whereupon she
acted pretty much as my cousin Pattie had done
before her,—that is, she laughed, and blushed, and
cried “Oh la!” but looking all the time any thing
but incensed.

In short, my condescension affected her to that
degree, that she began to treat me as her most undoubted
friend; and, in the height of her confidence,
informed me that she was just eighteen
years old, minus two months (the very age of my
cousin Pattie); that she was her father's favourite
(as far as any one could be the favourite of such a
curmudgeon); and that besides her fine expectations

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from him, she enjoyed in her own right a fortune
of twenty thousand dollars—a bequest from some
old aunt or other—which she would come into
possession of as soon as the aforesaid two months
and a few odd days had expired.

This was news that affected me very strongly;
and had her father been a gentleman, all things
considered, I believe I should have made her a declaration
on the spot.

As it was, I felt my soul growing tender towards
her; for though twenty thousand dollars was but a
small sum, it was, if I could take her word for it,
certain; which was not yet the case with any of
my cousin Pattie's expectations. However, before
I could digest the information, we were surprised
by the turning of a dead-latch key in the front door,
and Alicia cried, with a tone of disappointment,
“Oh la! it is papa!”—And so it was.

The old gentleman looked upon the open piano,
and the books and drawings upon the table, with
surprise, and then upon me with uneasiness.

“Mr. Dawkins has been waiting, papa,” said
Alicia.

“Humph!” said old Goldfist, and pointed her to
the door. She stole me a look, and, as she passed
out, raised her hand archly to her lips. She was
rather free, I confess; but she had lived a secluded
life, and knew no better.

The old fellow gave me a sharp look, coughed
phthisically twice or thrice, and then, with but
little superfluous ceremony, asked me what I
wanted.

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“Money,” said I.

“Oh, ay, always money. Who is to pay it?
What's your security?”

“My uncle Wilkins,” said I.

“Very good name, don't doubt,” growled the
bear; “the banks will take it. Don't do any business
of that sort.”

“Ged, faith, no,” said I; “I don't come for
money at six per cent., but on the old terms of
usury. You know my uncle Wilkins, eh? Only
two children—a fortune of eight hundred and
seventy thousand dollars.”

“Bah!” said the bull, “that will do for the girls
and boys. Know all about him; one hundred and
twenty, and half of it in railroads—good for nothing.”

“Two hundred and ninety, bona fide,” said I,
“and half of it in bank-stock.”

“Know all about it,” said Mr. Skinner; “but
what's that to you? Has a son of his own.”

“And a daughter,” said I, giving him a nod,
which brought a Christian look into his face, and,
doubtless, a Christian feeling into his hearts. I
took advantage of it to inform him that she and I
were about to elope, and wanted a thousand dollars
to bear our expenses; assuring him also that her
father was on the eve of making her a grant of
fifty thousand dollars, as soon as which was done,
we should be off at a moment's warning. To be
brief, I told the old fellow all that was necessary
for my purpose, and made so good a story of it,

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that I have no doubt I should have got something
out of him, had not my evil genius suddenly
prompted me to refer to his own daughter Alicia,
and ask him what he intended to give her, over
and above her own twenty thousand?

He looked as black as midnight, and asked “who
told me she had such a sum?”

I saw I had alarmed him, and said I had it of a
friend of mine, a very fine fellow, who thought of
taking her off his hands, provided he would add
twenty more to it.

“Want no fine fellows, and no friends of yours,”
said he, gruffly; “won't give her a cent, and has
nothing of her own; all a fool's story—told you so
herself—a jade's trick; never told a truth in her
life.”

The old miser's soul was up in arms; the prospect
of being called upon in two months' space to
render up the girl's portion to a son-in-law, was so
much Scotch snuff thrown into his eyes; if it did
not blind, it at least distracted him: and the reward
I had for conjuring up the vision was my own
dismissal, notwithstanding all my arguments to the
contrary, with my pockets as empty as when I
entered, a rude assurance that he had closed accounts
with me, and a highly impertinent request
that I would avoid troubling him for the future.

So I got no money of him, but his daughter fell
in love with me; and the next day she sent me
by the post a very tender and romantic billetdoux,
in which she lamented her father's harshness and

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barbarity, hoped I would not think ill of her for
venturing upon an apology, and concluded by informing
me, with agreeable simplicity, that her
father was never at home between eight and nine
o'clock in the evening, when the weather was
clear. From all which I understood, that she was
as ready to run away with me as my cousin Pattie.

Having pondered over the matter for a while, it
appeared to me proper to encourage her enthusiasm;
so that, in the event of my uncle Wilkins
refusing to make Pattie independent, I might be
certain of a wife who could bring me something.
I had many objections, indeed, to the lady's family
and relations; but the latter I could easily cut
in case of necessity, and the other I considered
scarce worth thinking of. Her twenty thousand
dollars was a strong recommendation; and there
was no telling what her father might leave her, if
reconciled after her marriage. I liked my cousin
Pattie best; but, upon the whole, I considered it
advisable to have a second string to my bow.

With this impression on my mind, I took occasion
to drop in upon her the first clear evening,
repeating the visit now and then, as suited my
convenience, and promised to run away with her
upon the first fitting occasion. And this promise
I resolved to keep, provided my affairs with my
cousin Pattie should render it advisable.

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p016-235 CHAPTER XIX. The ingenious devices with which Sheppard Lee prepared the way for the elopement.

I had scarce brought my friend Tickle upon the
stage, and introduced him into my uncle's family,
before my mind began to misgive me. I suspected
that, instead of being content to play the stalking-horse
for my sole advantage, he would take the
opportunity to advance his own interest, and gain,
if he could, my cousin Pattie for himself.

To remove all temptation, and bind him more
closely to be faithful, I told him of my adventure
with Alicia (taking care, however, to conceal her
name, for I did not wish to forego my advantages in
that quarter until convinced I could do so without
loss), described her claim to the sixty thousand dollars
(for, of course, I trebled her inheritance), and
concluded by engaging to make her over to him the
moment I was myself secure of Pattie, which
would be the moment Pattie was secure of an independence.

Upon this promise Tickle made me a thousand
protestations of friendship and disinterestedness,
and I felt my mind more easy.

He acted his part, assisted by Pattie, who at
my suggestion feigned suddenly to be violently
in love with him, and besieged her father to the

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same end as myself: the old gentleman at last complied,
and actually executed the deed of gift which
I mentioned before; by which he secured to her
the revenue accruing upon a sum of forty thousand
dollars, the principal, which he retained in his own
hands in trust, to revert to her at his death; and to
this deed I was myself made a witness.

With these terms, as it seemed there were no
better to be had, I allowed myself to be satisfied;
and trusting to a final reconciliation with my uncle
Wilkins to augment the dowry, I ran to my cousin
Pattie and informed her of her good fortune.

She was filled with repture, and began fairly to
dance with joy; she told me I was the best and
sweetest of cousins, and vowed she would love me
to her dying day. Her joyous spirits fired my
own, and I answered in terms equally ecstatic. In
short, we agreed to elope that very night, and arranged
our plan accordingly. It was agreed I
should have a carriage in waiting at the corner of
the street during the evening, and that Pattie, who
was to feign herself unwell, as an excuse for not
going to Mrs. Pickup's first ball, which was to take
place that evening, should find some means to get
her father out of the way; immediately after which
I, having disposed of the redoubtable Sammy, by
depositing him in the aforesaid Mrs. Pickup's drawing-room,
was to make my appearance, and bear
her in triumph to a reverend divine, previously secured
for the ceremony.

Having settled all these things, and sealed our

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engagement with a kiss, my adorable cousin admitted
me to a secret which nearly froze my blood with
horror.

She informed me that my friend Tickle, disregarding
all his vows of fidelity, had been busy ever
since I brought him into the house besieging her on
his own account; that he had taken every occasion
to undermine me in her affections, by disparaging
my good qualities both of soul and mind, and especially
by assuring her I was “a great ass and fortune-hunter”
(those were his very words); and,
finally, that he had so used the power his knowledge
of our secret had given him, by occasional
threats of betraying it to her father, that she had
been compelled to accept his addresses, and make
him the same promise she had just made me—that
is, to elope with him. The perfidious fellow had
by some means got wind of the deed of gift; and
while I was engaged in signing it, he had paid my
cousin a visit with the same object as myself, and
she had promised to decamp with him. Nay, at
this moment the villain was engaged in securing
his carriage and his parson, with the prospect of
chousing me out of my wife and fortune!

My horror was, however, soon dissipated. My
cousin Pattie had made the engagement only in
self-defence, and she looked upon the whole affair
as the best joke in the world. “How we will cheat
him,” said she; “the base fellow!” and she danced
about, smiling, and laughing, and crying together,
so that it was a delight to see her. “Yes,” said

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she, with uncommon vivacity, “we will cheat him,
for I'm sure he deserves no better; for I'm sure
he's just as much of a goose and fortune-hunter as
he said you were; and I'm sure I despise a goose
and fortune-hunter above all things; and I'm sure I
know how to treat a goose and fortune-hunter as
well as anybody. How we'll laugh at him to-morrow!
How he'll stare when he finds I'm gone!
how papa will stare too! How Sammy will stare,
and how he'll whistle! Oh dear! I do love to
cheat people of all things; I do, cousin Ikey; and,
ods fishes, I'm almost half minded to cheat you
too!”

And with that she flung her arms round my neck,
gave me a kiss, and ran laughing away to prepare
for the hour of elopement.

There was an extraordinary coincidence between
the situation of my cousin Pattie and myself. She
had agreed to run away with two different people
at the same moment; and so had I. The day before
my uncle proved unusually crusty and self-willed,
and I began to think I should never effect my point
with him; and, what was equally dispiriting, I fell
among duns, who persecuted me with astonishing
rancour; my uncle's appearance, as it seemed,
serving rather to sharpen than to allay their appetites
for payment. Being thus goaded on by doubt
and dunning, I resolved to make sure of Goldfist's
daughter; which I did by visiting her as soon as
night came, and proposing an elopement on the following
evening; and this it was the more easy to

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put into execution, since her father, as she told me,
was fast in bed with a sciatica, or some such vulgar
disorder.

No one could be more willing and delighted than
the fair Alicia; and it appeared that, in anticipation
of the happy event, she had already made all her
preparations, having, as she assured me, arranged
with a friend of hers, at whose house she designed
the ceremony to be performed, ordered secretly a
whole trunk full of bride's clothes, and notified an
old schoolmate whom she had engaged to wait
upon her.

I thought, upon my soul, she was taking matters
pretty easily, and acting somewhat independently;
but she was ignorant of the world, as I said before,
and knew no better. I was still more disgusted with
the thought of being shown off among her friends,
and told her a bridemaid was wholly superfluous;
but she had made her mind up as to what was
right on such an occasion, and I judged it proper
to submit. It was agreed I should meet her at her
friend's house, at nine o'clock in the evening; and
“she hoped,” very modestly, I thought, “that I
would bring some nice pretty fellow to wait on me,
that would make a good match with her dear Julia,
who was the nicest dear soul in the world.”

This “nice dear soul,” as I afterward discovered,
and as I think proper to inform the reader now,
that he may understand into what a slough of democracy
I was rushing, was no less a personage
than a cousin-german of Mr. Snip, my tailor; and

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her appointment to the honour of waiting upon the
bride of the distinguished I. D. Dawkins was productive
of a casualty expected neither by herself
nor by my adored Alicia.

I laughed in my sleeve at that hint of my Alicia;
and yet I did, after all, provide myself with an attendant,
and one who was perhaps better suited
than any other person I could have lighted on, as
an offset and pendent to the “fair Julia.” This
was my cousin, Sammy Wilkins; and the reason
of my appointing him was this. He was, although
the stupidest creature on earth, of a meddling and
prying nature, and had an extraordinary fancy to
go sneaking after me whithersoever I went—from
admiration and affection, perhaps; but of that I was
not certain; and, at all events, he was a great burden
to me. He discovered my repeated visits to
Skinner's house, and was seized with a stupid curiosity
to know the reason; and, what was still
worse, he made so many observations on my attentions
to, and secret conferences with, his sister
Pattie, that it was clear he suspected there was
something in the wind there too. Being kept in
eternal torment lest he should discover more than
I liked, or, by his indiscreet tattling, awake the suspicions
of others, I saw no better means of averting
the mischief, and turning his eyes from his sister,
than by taking him aside, and telling him, with
many injunctions to secrecy, that I was courting
old Skinner's rich daughter, and wished to have
him wait upon me at the wedding.

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[figure description] Page 232.[end figure description]

Such confidence, coupled with the intention to
do him so much honour, entirely overcame his rustic
imaginations. He swore he approved of marrying
rich wives, and was looking out for one himself,
and hoped I would put him on the track of one;
which I promised, and the clownish juvenile was
content. He looked forward to the great event
with a measure of glee I had never seen him roused
to before, and he ordered a new coat of Snip, that
he might do honour to his service.

It is quite true, I never really intended he should
trouble himself in the matter; but when the fated
evening came, when the loving Alicia, arrayed in
satin and white roses, was awaiting her lover, who
was preparing to run away with her rival, I thought
it better to despatch him to my charmer than to
leave him at Mrs. Pickup's, whence he might stray
at a moment's warning, and, indeed, with no warning
at all. It was quite necessary to have him out
of the way; for which reason I sent him to the
house where Alicia was in waiting, with a special
message to the lady, to make his introduction the
more easy, and a thousand instructions in relation
to nothing.

It was fortunate that my cousin Sammy, though
as great a rustic as ever lived, was, as little troubled
with bashfulness as wisdom. Hence I found no difficulty
in despatching him to my inamorata, whom
he had never laid eyes on, and to her friends, with
regard to whom I was in the same predicament. I

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p016-242 [figure description] Page 233.[end figure description]

promised to follow him in a short time, and thus,
to my great joy, succeeded in getting him out of
the way.

CHAPTER XX. The guests that Sheppard Lee invited to his wedding.

The appointed hour drew nigh, and all things
had gone on swimmingly with one single exception.
The persecution I had endured from Messrs.
Sniggles, Snip, & Co. the day before, I was fated
once more to endure; for, going home to my lodgings
about dusk to put on my best shirt, I found my
chief creditors assembled in solemn divan, or rather
in warlike ambush; and such a troop of bears
and wolves as they were was perhaps never seen
by an unfortunate gentleman before. What had
brought them together, especially at such an unlucky
moment, it was impossible to divine; but it
seems they had had in consideration the state of
my affairs and prospects, and had just come to the
conclusion, as I entered, that they were none the
better off for the coming of my uncle Wilkins, who
(for it appeared the villain Sniggles had been
sounding him on the subject) had disavowed all
responsibility for my debts, and all disposition to
discharge them, in terms not to be mistaken. It
had just been resolved, nem. con., as the saying is,

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that I had cheated them, that I was cheating them,
and that I would cheat them as long as I could, and
that terms, therefore, should be kept with me no
longer.

To this moment my flesh creeps when I think
of the yell the villains set up when I stumbled
among them, and the audacity with which
they heaped on my devoted head their upbraidings,
menaces, and maledictions. They used highly uncivil
language, and some laid their defiling fingers
upon my collar, while all, as with one voice, cried
out to carry me before an alderman, and make a
public spectacle of me at once.

I say my flesh yet creeps while I think of their
ferocious conduct, and I shall remember it to my
death-bed; for of all the various woes and grievances
to which flesh is heir, and which I have had
uncommon opportunities to test, there are none
more truly awful in my recollections than a high
case of dunning.

It was several moments before I could utter a
word in defence; and when I did, having nothing
better to say, I assured the rascals I was just on
the eve of running away with my uncle's daughter,
and of course would be soon able to answer all
their scurvy demands. I told them the time was
fixed, the carriage and parson prepared, and my
fair Pattie in waiting; but, as I had told them many
thousand things before which were not always exactly
true, I found my present assurances received
with so little credit, that I was obliged to give them

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[figure description] Page 235.[end figure description]

ocular proof of my honesty and fair-dealing. I
invited them to follow me to my uncle's door, and
there station themselves until they beheld me come
forth conducting my bride to the carriage; after
which they might, if they would, follow me in like
manner to the parson: and I engaged, in the confidence
of my heart, if I failed to bring out a wife
according to promise, to follow them, without any
further demur, to the alderman, or to old Nick himself,
which was pretty much the same thing.

This proposal, being highly reasonable, was accepted;
and I had the honour of such an escort to
my uncle's doors as was never before enjoyed by a
bridegroom. The only one who did not accompany
me to my uncle's door was Mr. Snip the tailor;
who, passing a house where lived, as he said, a
young lady of his acquaintance, stepped in to show
one of his customer's new coats that he had on,
promising to follow after us in a moment. As my
stars, or the father of sin, would have it, this young
lady was that identical “dear Julia,” his cousin-german,
of whom I spoke before, and whom he
found rustling in satin, just prepared, as she informed
him, to join her dear Alicia Skinner, who
was to be married to the handsome Mr. Dawkins,
at the house of their friend Mrs. Some-one-or-other.

The tailor was thunderstruck, as tailors doubtless
often are; assured the dear Julia she was mistaken,
and acquainted her with the true state of the
case; the result of which was, as may be understood,
when she had carried her news to the

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expectant Alicia, a certain scene of a highly interesting
nature. As for Mr. Snip himself, he rushed out of
the house to bring me to an explanation; but when
he reached the party I had already taken refuge in
my uncle's house.

CHAPTER XXI. Containing a scialogue, or curious conversation with nothing; with a discovery extremely astonishing to several persons.

I found my cousin Pattie also in her satins, and
Nora Magee, whom she had resolved to take with
her, decked out with extraordinary splendour; and,
what I thought was diverting enough, the creature
had a long bridal veil like her mistress, and as huge
a cloak to conceal her person from observation.
They were prepared to start, with each her bundle
at hand; and they hailed my appearance with delight.

But there was a difficulty before us; my uncle
Wilkins was yet in the house, and so was Sammy.
As for the latter, I soon got rid of him by sending
him to Alicia, as I mentioned before; but my uncle
we could not remove. My cousin's affectation of
sickness (to confirm which, and conceal her nuptial
preparations, she kept aloof in her chamber, or pretended
to do so) concerned him, and he refused to
leave the house; but, being left to himself, we

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knew he would soon drop asleep, that being one of
his rustical propensities.

By-and-by, while we were discoursing upon our
difficulties, we heard a carriage drive by; and just
as it passed the door, the coachman gave three
loud cracks with his whip. It was a sign I had
agreed upon with the fellow, and I knew all was
now in readiness. I proposed that we should instantly
steal down stairs, and—

At that moment I heard the front door softly
open and shut.

“Who's that?” said I.

“Ah! I'm sure I don't know,” said my cousin
Pattie, turning so pale I thought she was going to
fall down in a faint; “perhaps it is Mr. Tickle.
Yes!” she cried, recovering her spirits, and almost
jumping for joy,—“now we'll sort him! I'll show
him how I serve fortune-hunters, I reckon! I'll
lock him up in a closet, I will; and there he shall
kick his heels till morning, and I don't care if the
rats eat him, I don't.—Oh, goody gracious! he's
coming up stairs!” she cried: “was there ever anybody
so impudent? But I'll fix him. Here, cousin
Ikey, do you run in here,”—pointing to her
chamber,—“and don't let him see you.”

“No,” said I, thinking it proper to appear courageous,
“I will face the faithless rascal, and punish
his impertinence on the spot.” I had no idea of
doing any such thing, which, of course, must have
alarmed my uncle, and I intended to yield to Pattie's
fears and importunity, swallow my wrath for

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[figure description] Page 238.[end figure description]

the present, and conceal myself, as she recommended.
But my display of resistance awoke the indignation
of Nora Magee, who cried, “Och, the divil
take him thin; does he mane to rob us of our husbands?”
and seizing me by the shoulders, she
thrust me towards the chamber.

“Run in, cousin Ikey,” said my cousin, driving
the Irish barbarian away, but seizing me herself,
and urging me into the chamber, while she seemed
dying with suppressed mirth. “You'll see how
Nora will sort him,—you'll hear it. You mustn't
speak a word; and, ods fishes, you must remember
to behave yourself,”—here she seemed more diverted
than ever,—“ods fishes, you must behave yourself
in a lady's chamber.”

At that moment Nora blew out the light, so that
we were left in darkness, and my cousin locked
the door, thus, as I supposed, dividing us from the
enemy. “I say, Pattie, my soul,” said I, whispering
in her ear, “what is Nora going to do with
him?” But she answered me not a word, and I
took that as a hint to hold my own peace. The
next instant I heard a rustling in the next room, and
the voice of Jack Tickle saying softly, and almost
in my own words,

“I say, Pattie, my soul, what did you blow out
the light for? Where are you?—Oh! you divine
creature!” and I heard the smack of a kiss, that
quite astonished me.

“Pattie,” said I, “what the deuse is the meaning
of that?”

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[figure description] Page 239.[end figure description]

But Pattie was as dumb as before. The rustling
was transferred from the antechamber (I had
taught my cousin to call it her boudoir) into the
passage, and I could tell, by the creaking of a step,
that my friend Tickle was going down stairs.

“Pattie,” said I, “what's in the wind now?”

But still Pattie refused to answer me.

While I was wondering at her silence, now that
there was no fear of being overheard, I again distinguished
the sound of the house door softly opened
and shut.

“I say, Pattie,” said I, “what the devil is all
that? and pray why don't you speak?”

It occurred to me that her silence was all owing
to a fit of bashfulness, caused by her having me
locked up in the chamber with her.

“Pattie,” said I, reaching out my hands, but
without being able to reach her, “you shouldn't
be bashful nor nothing, considering we're to be
married in less than half an hour. I say, Pattie,
what are we to do now? where are you?”

While I spoke I heard a carriage again rattle
by the door, and, to my astonishment, the coachman
saluted the house with three such cracks of
his whip as my own had given a few minutes
before.

“Pattie,” said I, while a cold sweat broke over
my limbs, “where are you, and why don't you
speak?”

I felt about the door for her, but felt in vain;
I listened for the sound of her breath, hoping she

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[figure description] Page 240.[end figure description]

might have hidden herself out of sheer mischief,
but not a breath was to be heard; I went feeling
about the chamber, and with as little effect.

A horrible suspicion seized upon my fancy.
There were two doors to the apartment, one opening
upon the passage, the other into the boudoir;
and both were locked as fast as doors could be.
Where was the key my cousin Pattie turned
when we entered the chamber together? It was
gone. I discovered its absence, and looked round
the chamber in astonishment and dismay.

At that moment some person in Mr. Periwinkle
Smith's house, which was right opposite, entered a
front chamber therein with a light, which streamed
into the windows of Pattie's apartment with a lustre
sufficient to make every object visible. My
cousin Pattie was not to be seen! I looked under
the bed, and into the bed; examined the presses,
and peeped behind the chairs; but no cousin Pattie
was to be found. She had locked me in the
chamber, but not herself! Horror of horrors! she
had played a trick upon me! she had jilted me! and—
ay! there was no doubting it a moment longer—
she had run off with my friend Tickle! “I'll show
you how I serve fortune-hunters,” said she—“lock
him up in a closet—kick his heels till morning—
eaten up by rats—shall hear yourself how I'll serve
your rival Tickle.” Death and destruction! and,
after all, she has run away with him!—eloped in
the very carriage I provided! married by the parson
I engaged! decamped with the forty thousand

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I secured! and I—I, the unfortunate, jilted, cozened
I—was the person left kicking my heels in a closet!

The idea filled me with phrensy; and the light
from Mr. Periwinkle Smith's house being removed
at the moment, I tumbled over a chair that lay in
my way, and besides breaking my head and shin,
woke up such a din in the house that the very
servants in the kitchen bounced up in alarm, and
screamed out for assistance.

“What's the matter, Pattie?” said my uncle
Wilkins, turning the key which the faithless creature
had left sticking in the outside of the door, and
entering: “I say, Pattie, ods bobs, what's the—
Lord bless us, cousin Ikey! is that you? what's
the matter? what are you doing in Pattie's chamber?”

I answered my uncle Wilkins only by opening
my mouth as wide as I could, and staring at him
in anguish, horror, and despair.

“Where's Pattie?” said he, in alarm.

The question restored me to my faculties.

“Eloped,” said I; “cheated me beyond all expression,
and run off with my rival Jack Tickle.”

“What a fool!” said my uncle, recovering his
composure; “I'm sure I never opposed her.”

“So much for not giving her to me!” said I.

“To you!” said my uncle.

“Uncle Wilkins,” said I, “from this moment I
shall cut your acquaintance. Pattie has jilted me
so horribly you can't conceive, and has married
Jack Tickle!”

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p016-251

[figure description] Page 242.[end figure description]

“Well,” said my uncle, “where's the harm?
To be sure, and a'n't he as good now as worth
ten thousand a year?”

“Not worth a cent!” said I, shaking my fists at
the old gentleman—and then drumming on my own
breast—“not worth a cent, and down in every tailor's
books in town, except Snip's, who wouldn't
trust him.”

“Oh, you villain!” said my uncle Wilkins,
“how you've cheated me!”

He ran down stairs, and I after him; he was
bent upon pursuing his daughter—and so was I.

CHAPTER XXII. In which Sheppard Lee finds that he has made the fortune of his friends, without having greatly advantaged his own.

As we reached the foot of the staircase, the
house door opened, and in came my friend Tickle,
dragged along—not by our dear and faithless Pattie,
as we fondly supposed, but by the raging Nora
Magee.

“Help, murder, help!” cried my friend Tickle.

“Och, murder, and twenty murders more upon
ye, ye chatin crathur! and won't ye marry me?”
cried Nora Magee.

My uncle Wilkins and myself rushed forward,
lost in amazement, and separated the fury from her

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prey. “What is the matter?” cried both, “and
where is Pattie?”

“The devil is the matter,” cried Jack, panting
and blowing; “and where Pattie is I know no
more than you. I thought I was running away
with her until I reached the squire's; and then I
found I had this wild Indian under her cloak, who
insisted I should marry her, or else—”

“Ay, ye murderin, faithless villain!” said Nora
Magee, “I'll marry ye, or I'll have the breaches of
promise and the damages out of ye! Och, but I
have the law of ye; for didn't my Missus Pattie
promise ye should marry me? I say, ye ugly-faced,
hin-souled Tickle that they call ye, I have
the law of ye, and I'll be married before the squire,
or I'll have the breaches out of ye!”

“My breeches,” said Jack, “you may have, and
my coat and waistcoat too; for may I be hanged
and quartered if I am not cheated out of my very
skin.”

“Where's my daughter Pattie?” said my uncle
Wilkins. He looked at me, and I looked at him;
it was plain my cousin Pattie had not run away
with my friend Tickle.

Where could she be? I began to recover my
spirits, when they were suddenly put to flight by a
knock at the door, which being opened, a letter was
thrown in, the messenger instantly taking to his
heels, so that no one beheld him. It was a letter
to my uncle Wilkins. He opened it and read the
following words:—

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Dear Papa and honoured Father:

“This is to inform you that I don't like Mr.
Tickle, and so can't marry him; and hope you will
excuse me for following my own fancies, being now
independent, as you have made me, for which I
will remain your dutiful, loving daughter for life
Give my love to cousin Dully, and tell him I con
sider him my best friend next to my dear papa and
my dear husband—for, oh, papa, I'm really married,
and going off travelling to-morrow.

“Hope you'll forgive us, papa, and shall ever
love and pray for you, and rest your loving, dutiful
children,

Pattie and Danny Baker.”

Danny Baker!” roared my uncle; “Danny
Baker!” groaned I. The clodhopper had got her,
and I had been only toiling in his service!

“Oh, you villain!” said my uncle Wilkins, “this
is all your doings!”

“Sir,” said I, “no hard words.”

“You're a villain!” said my uncle; “you wanted
to steal her yourself, and I a'n't sorry Danny
Baker has choused you out of her; and for that
reason I don't care if I forgive him. Yes, sir, I'll
forgive Danny Baker; but for you, sir, I owe you
a debt—”

“If you do,” said Tickle, “pay him.” But we
took no notice of him—my uncle because he was
enraged, and I because I was devoured by the
greatness of my misfortune. In truth, the loss of
my cousin Pattie was so unexpected, that it had

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astounded me out of my faculties. I was reduced to
a mere automaton, conscious, indeed, of being in a
horrible quandary, but incapable of seeing my way
out of it; when I suddenly heard the voice, as I
thought (or some one very like it), of my cousin
Sammy at the door.

This roused me at once; I remembered that at
this moment my Alicia was waiting for me, and I
fell into a rapture.

“Uncle Wilkins,” said I, “you may say what
you please; Jack Tickle, you are a rascal; Nora
Magee, you are a jade; but it is all one to I. D.
Dawkins. I will marry my Miss Skinner.”

As I spoke I looked upon the door, which, opening,
disclosed a sight that petrified me, body and
soul together. It was the apparition of my Alicia,
in bridal array, leaning upon the arm of my cousin
Sammy, and followed by a brace of youthful damsels
decked in white flowers, all of whom stalked
into the door with the solid step of flesh and blood,
and advanced towards my uncle; my Alicia looking
as silly and shame-faced as could be, while Sammy,
on the contrary, held up his head and strutted like
a turbaned Turk in the midst of his harem.

“What the deuse is all this?” said Jack Tickle.
As for me, I could not speak a word, being a hundred
fold more amazed than before. I looked at
my Alicia, who, seeing me, began to blush, and bridle,
and simper, and hold fast to Sammy's arm. As
for Sammy, he looked not a whit the less Turkish,

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but marched up to his father as if charging him at
the head of a regiment.

The old gentleman was as much astonished as
myself, and at last cried out,

“Ods bobs! what's the matter, Sam? have you
been running away, too?”

“No,” said my cousin Sammy, “I reckon I'm
not gone yet; but I've come to get ready: and
first, dad, as in duty bound, let's have a bit of your
blessing, if you've no objection, on me and my
wife.”

Your wife!!!” said I, and said no more.

“Well,” said my cousin Sammy, “I reckon I
may say so; for you see, Dawkins, my boy, when
I saw 'Lishy here, I liked her; and when July here
came and told us as how you had run off with sister
Pat Wilkins, why, then, said I, I may as well
speak up for myself; and so, as the parson was
ready, and 'Lishy dressed up to be married already,
we made but short work of the courtship; and now,
as the saying is, one and one is one: this here is
my wife, for better and for worse, and I hope neither
you nor father has any objection.”

-- 247 --

p016-256 CHAPTER XXIII. A crisis. Sheppard Lee is reduced to great extremities, and takes refuge in the house of mourning.

I never knew what my uncle Wilkins replied to
the aforesaid speech, the longest I ever heard my
cousin Sammy utter, nor do I know what reception
he gave to the bride. I made but one jump to
the front door, where my horror was consummated.
My departure was greeted by an uproarious cry;
but it proceeded from the street, not the house. I
found myself among the Philistines, whom, an hour
before, I had myself placed there in wait. I had forgotten
the barbarians, which was natural enough, as
they were my creditors; but they had not forgotten
me. They hailed my appearance on the steps
with some such yell of wrath and hunger as that
with which the beasts of a menagerie express their
joy at the appearance of their daily meal.

That cry was the finisher. I leaped from the
steps and took to my heels, not, however, without
leaving in the hands of my tailor one tail of the last
coat he had made me; which was, I believe, the
only payment I ever made him. My hat flew into
the gutter; and that was perhaps recovered by its
maker; in which case, it was doubtless brushed
up and sold over again as a new one. I fled like
the wind; my creditors followed me. The clatter

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of our footsteps, and the uproar of their interjections,
threw the street into a tumult. Some persons yelled
“murder!” and others cried “stop thief!” while
the little boys, catching up the cry from a distance,
screamed out “fire!” and ran to the nearest enginehouse,
to enjoy their evening amusement.

How long I ran, and whither, it is quite impossible
for me to say. I recollect doubling two
or three times, and diving into alleys, to throw my
pursuers off the track. My efforts were, however,
in vain; I found myself lodged at last in a
vile alley, and hemmed in both on the front and
rear. I made a leap at a garden gate, which I cleared;
then running forward, and perceiving a back
door in a house standing open, I rushed in, scarce
knowing what I did.

I immediately discovered that I was in a sort
of servants' hall, or anteroom to the kitchen, in
which an old woman sat sleeping in an arm-chair.
She was disturbed by the noise of my entrance, and
I dreaded every moment to see her open her eyes,
and by her shrieks draw my pursuers after me. I
was afraid, however, to retreat, for, in the confusion
of my mind, I thought I heard my tormentors
rushing to and fro in the garden.

In this uncertainty, seeing a flight of stairs in one
corner of the room, I darted up them, without reflecting
a moment upon what might be the consequences.
But what evil could happen to me more horrid than
that I was fleeing? I might stumble into a lady's
chamber and throw her into hysterics, or I might

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find myself at the bedside of some valiant personage,
sleeping with a brace of pistols under his pillow,
the contents of which he might transfer to my
body. But such catastrophes had now lost their
terrors: it was all one to I. D. Dawkins, as I had
said to my uncle Wilkins. I could receive no addition
to my woes, go whither and do whatsoever
I might.

I rushed up the stairs, therefore, and entered a
chamber, where a tallow candle, burning all on one
side, stood flaring on a little table, among vials,
gallipots, and other furniture of a sick chamber,
throwing a dim and spectral light on a bed near to
which it stood. I cast my eyes upon the bed, and
perceived I had nothing to fear, either from timorous
ladies or nervous gentlemen.

CHAPTER XXIV. What happened in the dead-chamber. —The dirge of a wealthy parent.

Upon that couch lay the ghastly spectacle of a
human corse, stiff and cold. It was that of an
old man, and I thought at first that he slept; but,
upon looking closer, I perceived that he had been
dead for at least an hour; and it appeared as if he
had died untended by friend or servant, for the
bedclothes had been nearly tossed from the bed in
his last convulsion, and now lay tumbled about his

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limbs and the floor, just as they had fallen. His
features were greatly distorted, having an expression
of rage upon them that was highly disagreeable
to look on; yet I had a vague feeling that I had
seen him before.

While I was wondering who he could be, I perceived
a paper clutched in his right hand; and,
taking it to the light, the secret was at once revealed.

It was a letter from my adorable Alicia to her
father, dated that very evening, in which she gave
him to understand, in the most romantic language
in the world, that his opposition to her wishes in
relation to her beloved Dawkins had broken her
heart—that she could never think of marrying any
one else (as if, indeed, the old gentleman ever
wished her)—that she could not live without her
Dawkins, and accordingly had made up her mind
to fly with him afar from parental severity; and
concluded by assuring him that “when he read
those lines, penned by a grieved and determined,
but still dutifully loving heart” (she said nothing
of her fingers), “she would be in the arms of a
lawful husband.” There was appended a postscript,
in which she expressed much contrition, hoped he
would forgive her, and hinted that she would be
of age in two months.

I looked at the old man again, and wondered I
had not known him before. It was old Skinner,
sure enough, and the secret of his death was readily
explained. He had been sick before, and this

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elegant epistle had finished him—or rather the
necessity, so romantically hinted at in the conclusion,
of settling, two months thereafter, his guardian's
account with her husband, had done his business.
I did not suppose the wound in his parental
feelings had done him much hurt; but there was
more, perhaps, in that, than any one would have
thought that knew the old miser.

And there he lay, then the owner of thousands
and hundreds of thousands, with none to mourn
him—nay, with not even a hand to smooth the bedrobe
over his neglected body. He had squandered
health, happiness, good name, and perhaps self-approbation,
the true riches of man, in the pursuit
of the lucre which cannot purchase back again one
of these treasures; and notwithstanding which lucre
he was now, and indeed had been at his death-hour,
no better off than the beggar in his coffin of
deal. He had heaped up gold for his children,
that they might begrudge him the breath drawn in
pain and infirmity, and rejoice in the moment of
his death. He had— But why should I moralize
over a subject worn just as threadbare as any other.
The old fellow was a miser, and met the miser's
fate. Nobody accused even his children of loving
him; and while I stood by his side, I had a stronger
proof of their regard than spoke in the neglected
appearance of his deathbed. I had scarce entered
the room before I heard, from some of the apartments
below, the sounds of mirth and festivity.
They were not to be mistaken; it was plain that

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some persons were feasting and making merry in
one of the old fellow's parlours; and I doubted not
they were his two sons, Ralph and Abbot, both of
whom had very bad characters, the latter in particular,
who was a notorious profligate. They were
young men of promise, I had heard; but the avarice
of the parent had ruined them. Their education
neglected from indifference, or a miserable
spirit of parsimony, their minds and morals uncultivated,—
the consciousness of their father's wealth
and their own golden prospects at his decease
stimulated them to excesses, which were perhaps
rendered still more agreeable to their imaginations,
and certainly more destructive to their weal, by
the difficulty of indulging in them, resulting from
the niggardliness of their father.

But the reign of denial was now over; the rattle
and crash of glasses and vessels in the room below,
the tumbling down of chairs and tables, with the
sounds of singing, shouting, and laughter, proclaimed
with what a lusty lyke-wake the abandoned sons
were honouring the memory of their father—with
what orgies of Bacchus they were celebrating their
own deliverance from restraint. Suddenly the sound
of the singing grew louder, as if some door between
the revellers and the dead had been opened; and
a moment after I perceived, from the increase and
direction of the uproar, that the sots were ascending
the stairs, and perhaps approaching the chamber
of death.

An idea seized upon my mind. I was heartily

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sick of Mr. I. D. Dawkins's body, being ready at
that moment to exchange it for a dog's, and I was
incensed at the heartless and brutal rejoicings of
the young Skinners. It occurred to me, if I could
get my spirit into old Goldfist's body, I should
avoid all dunning for the future, and give these two
reprobate sons of his such a lesson as would last
them to their dying day.

The idea came to me like a blaze of sunshine; I
remembered in a moment the vast wealth of the deceased,
and I pictured to my imagination the glorious
use I should make of it. I had always hated
and despised the old villain; but a sudden affection
for him now seized upon my soul. I had a strong
persuasion in me, resulting from my two former
adventures, that I possessed the power of entering
any human body which I found to my liking; and I
resolved to exercise it, or, at the worst, to make
proof of its existence, for a third time. Of the
manner of exercising the power I knew but little; I
remembered, however, that, on the former occasions,
I had merely uttered a wish, and the transformation
was instantly completed. I stepped up to the body,
and chuckling with the idea of chousing the unnatural
sons out of their expected inheritance, I said,

“Old Goldfist, if you please, I wish to be in
your body!”

In less than a second of time I found myself
starting up from the bed, as if I had just been roused
from sleep by the noise of some falling body,
and exclaiming “What's that?”

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I looked over the side of the bed, and saw the
body of I. D. Dawkins lying on the floor on its face.
The transformation was complete, and had been so
instantaneous, that my spirit heard, through the organs
of its new tenement, the downfall of its old. I
felt a little bewildered, indeed posed, and remained
upon my elbow staring about the room; and I may
add, that I was more disconcerted by the bacchanalian
voices now at the chamber door, than by any
thing else.

The door opened, and the young Skinners entered;
I shall remember them to my dying day; they
were both royally drunk, and each armed with a
candle, with which, scattering the tallow over the
floor as they advanced, they came staggering and
hiccoughing into the chamber.

“I say, bravo, dad, and no offence,” said the foremost,
“but don't feel so sorry as I ought; and
here's Ralph a'n't sorry neither.”

“Led us a devilish hard life of it,” grumbled the
other, “but shall have something done for his soul
by the Catholics. I say, Abby, shall buy that black
horse and the buggie.”

“And a tombstone for dad,” said the worthy
Abbot, laying his candle upon the table, and striking
an attitude like a dancing-master, which, however,
he could not keep. “I say, Ralph,” he went
on, “it isn't right to say so, but don't you feel good?
Three hundred thousand apiece, dammee! I say,
Ralph, let us dance.”

And the villains took hands, and attempted a pas

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de deux, as the theatre people have it; while the
old woman, who had been sleeping below, and was
roused by the fall of my late body, came running
into the room, to see what was the matter. By
this time the dogs had chassé'd up so nigh to the
bed, that, for the first time, they laid their eyes upon
the reanimated countenance of their father.

The effect was prodigious; the moment before
their faces were all drunkenness and triumph—now
they were all drunkenness and horror. The light
of the candle held by Ralph flashed over my visage;
but Abbot was the first to observe me resting
on my elbow, and staring at him with looks of
wrath and indignation.

“Lord love us, Ralph,” said he, “dad's coming
to!”

“Yes, you villains!” said I, “I am coming to;
you unnatural, undutiful rascals, I have come to!”

They looked upon me, and upon one another,
unutterably confounded, and I wondered myself
that I did not laugh at them. Their confusion,
however, only filled me with rage, and I railed at
them with as much emphasis and sincerity as if I
had been their father in earnest.

They dropped on their knees; but their rueful
appearance only added to my fury. I stormed and
I scolded, until, being quite exhausted with the effort,
a film came over my eyes, and I fell back in
a swoon.

-- --

p016-265 BOOK IV. CONTAINING ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE FOLLY OF BRINGING UP CHILDREN IN THE WAY THEY SHOULD GO, AND THE WISDOM OF MAKING A FORTUNE. CHAPTER I. The private history of Abram Skinner, the Shaver.

My swoon was, I believe, of no great duration,
and I awoke from it a new man, as well as an old
one.

Yes, I was changed, and with a vengeance; and
into such a miserable creature, that had I justly
conceived what I was to become in entering old
Goldfist's body, I doubt whether even the extremity
in which I was placed would have forced me
upon the transformation. I forgot that the title to
Skinner's wealth was saddled with the conditions
of age, infirmity, and a thousand others equally
disagreeable. But I soon made the discovery,
though it was some time before I discovered all.

The first inconvenience of the transformation
which I felt was a thousand aches in my bones, a
great disturbance in my inner man, and a general
sense of feebleness and impotency, highly

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vexatious and tormenting. My eyesight was bad, my
hearing indistinct, and, indeed, all my senses were
more or less confused; my hand trembled when I
lifted it to my face, my voice quavered while I
spoke, and every effort to breath seemed to fill my
lungs with coal-gas and ashes. In a word, I was a
man of sixty years or more, with a constitution just
breaking up, if not already broken.

My resuscitation produced a hubbub of no ordinary
character. My sons—for, wonderful to be said,
I had sons, and I soon felt as if they were in reality
mine—were confounded, and so, doubtless, was
Barbara, the housekeeper; to the latter of whom it
was perhaps owing that I ever recovered from my
swoon; for my two boys, overcome with horror and
despair, rushed out of the house, and it was a week
before I saw their faces again.

What added to the confusion was the discovery
of my late body, lying on the floor, no one being at
all able to account for its appearance. To this day,
indeed, the thing remains a mystery among tailors
and shop-keepers. It was pretty generally considered
that the unfortunate I. D. Dawkins met his
death by dunning, and I believe the coroner's jury
returned a verdict accordingly; but how he made
his way into the chamber of the usurer to give up
the ghost, just at the moment the other was resuming
it, was never known. Some supposed he had
visited the old gentleman to borrow money, and had
knocked his head against the bedpost in despair
upon finding the lender past lending. Speculation

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was alive upon the subject for two full days, and
was then buried in the young gentleman's grave,
along with his body and his memory; for the memory
of a dandy passeth away, unless recorded on
the books of his tailor.

I was confined to my bed a week, suffering with
a complication of disorders; for, though I possessed
the power to reanimate a corpse, I had none
to conjure away its diseases. In this period I had
leisure to exchange all previous characteristics
that might have clung to me, for those that more
properly belonged to my new casing; and when I
rose from my bed the transformation was in every
particular complete. My soul had lost its identity;
it had taken its shape from the mould it occupied;
it was the counterpart of the soul of Abram Skinner.

My last act as I. D. Dawkins was to chuckle
over the prospect of spending Abram Skinner's
money; my first as Abram Skinner was to take
care it should be spent neither by myself nor by
any one else. The desire to enjoy myself had vanished;
the thoughts of fine clothes, horses and carriages,
and so on, entered my mind no more. The
only idea that possessed me was, “What am I
worth? how much more can I make myself
worth?” and the first thing I did, when I could sit
in a chair, was to ransack a certain iron chest that
stood under my bed, containing my prototype's
books of accounts, over which I gloated with the
mingled anxiety and delight that had doubtless distinguished
the studies of the true Goldfist.

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I found myself rich beyond all my previously-formed
expectations; and, glum and rigid as were
now all my feelings, I think I should have danced
around my chamber for joy, had not the first flourish
of a leg introduced me to the pangs of rheumatism.
I indulged my rapture, therefore, in a soberer
way; and while awaiting the period of emancipation
from my chamber, arranged a thousand plans
for increasing my wealth.

My sons had deserted me, but I was not left
entirely to solitude. I received divers visits from
old fellows like myself, who, after growling out a
variety of wonder and congratulation at my return
to life, proceeded to counsel with me on subjects,
the discussion of which speedily brought me to the
knowledge of my new condition, where it had not
been supplied by the iron chest and my instincts.

These persons formed a confraternity, of which
it seems I, or rather my prototype, Abram Skinner,
was a prominent member; and the objects of the
association were to secure to each member the
fruits of his ambition with as little danger and
trouble as possible. We were a knot of what the
censorious call stock-gamblers; and by working
in common, and playing into each other's hands,
without taking pains to acknowledge any connexion,
we were pretty sure of our game.

It is astonishing how soon I entered into the
spirit of my new character. On previous occasions,
the adaption of soul to body was a work of
time; but here it seemed the work of but a few

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hours. The cause was, however, simple; Abram
Skinner was possessed of but one, or, at most, two
characteristics, and with these I easily became
familiar. The love of money was the ruling passion;
and this, I honestly confess, came to me so
naturally, that I was not conscious, while giving up
my whole soul to it, of any change of character
whatever. Before I left the house I was as busy
shaving notes, receiving bonds, mortgages, and
pledges (for Abram Skinner was a gambler of all
work), and devising schemes for “cornering” and
blowing high and low in the stock-market, as if I
had been born to the business.

I found on my books the records of all imaginable
operations, from the mem. of a thousand shares
of the Moonlight Manufacturing Company, bought
of A. B. on time, to the entry of “Mrs. C. D.'s
silver spoons and pitcher, purchased” (Abram Skinner
scorned all dealing on pawns, that being illegal
to the unlicensed) “at such a sum, but redeemable
at such another sum, which was generally at fifty
per cent. advance, on a certain day, or—forfeit.”
Here was a memorandum of a note bought at half
its value, there of a mortgage taken in form of a
purchase; and in other places a thousand other
forfeitures, such as marked the extent and universality
of business, the skill, the forethought, and
the success of Abram Skinner the shaver.

I have my compunctions when I think of the
life I led that winter; for so long did I continue
the life of a money-maker. But I entreat the

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reader to remember that I had got into Abram
Skinner's body, and that the burden of my acts
should be therefore laid upon his shoulders. A
swearing gentleman once borrowed a Quaker's
great-coat, with a promise not to dishonour it by
any profanity while it was on his back; upon returning
it to his friend, he was demanded if he had
kept his promise. “Yes,” said the man of interjections,
with one of the most emphatic; “but it has
kept me lying all the time.” I never heard anybody
doubt that the lying was the fault of the coat;
and, in like manner, I hope that the reader will not
hesitate to attribute all my actions, while in Abram
Skinner's body, to Abram Skinner's body itself.

Besides my friends of the honest fraternity, I
had other visiters before my infirmities permitted
me to leave the house; and the dealings I had
with them, besides enabling me to get my hand in,
as the saying is, would afford the reader, if described,
some insight into the excellences of my
new character.

But I cannot pause over such pictures in detail.
The rulers then over us, to please the poor, had got
up a pressure in the money-market, whereby the
poor were, as is usual in such cases, put under
contribution by the rich. Such a pressure, however,
may be said to please everybody, though it
puts everybody in a passion. To the rich, who
have money to lend, it is as great a season of jubilee
as a rain-strom to ducks, or a high wind to
the bristly herd in an apple-orchard, and they are

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in a passion because they fear it will be soon
over; to the poor, who borrow their money at a
higher rate than usual, it affords an opportunity to
rail at the aristocracy, and the grinders of the poor;
which is a pleasing recreation after a bad dinner.
At such times Abram Skinner was a happy man,
for he made money without the trouble of stirring
from his house: every knock at the door was the
signal of a god-send; every jerk at the bell was as
the jingle of coming dollars and cents.

CHAPTER II. Sheppard Lee's first hit at money-making.

It was at such a season that I entered the
shaver's body. The knocks at my door were
frequent, and the demands of my visiters to be
brought into presence irresistible. What cared
they for my pains and sickness?—they wanted
money: what cared I for my pains and sickness?—
I was anxious to make it. I ordered my house-keeper
Barbara (for it seems I was such a niggard
I had no other servant) to admit all well-dressed
applicants; for I scorned to deal with any other.

The first person admitted was a woman, very
good looking, but advanced in years. She kept a
boarding-house, but, as Barbara informed me, had
seen better days, having been the wife of a rich

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merchant, who failed, was absurd enough to keep
his books so straight as to allow no opportunity
for defrauding his creditors, surrendered up every
cent of his property, and died a beggar, leaving a
widow and six orphan daughters to lament his
honesty.

She was in some little flurry and perturbation of
spirits, but I spoke with a blandness that astonished
myself, until I found that this was always my
practice with a customer whom I was not tired of.
This restored her to confidence and garrulity.

Her tale was soon told:—her boarders were all
very fine gentlemen and ladies, and good pay; but
the times were so hard, they were just at this moment
compelled to pay with promises; with which
coin her landlord was not so easily satisfied. She
would not distress poor Mr. G., who owed her a
hundred and fifty dollars, nor Mr. H., nor Mrs. I.,
who were all in a peck of trouble just then, but
were well enough to do in the world—no, not she;
she had heard I was so good as often to lend to
people who wanted money for a few days, even
when the banks would not, provided they were
good and safe; and who was better and safer than
she? With all her troubles, and the Lord he
knew they were many and enough, she had always
paid her debts, and she defied anybody to
say the contrary: and so she hoped I would be so
good as to oblige her with the small sum of two
hundred-dollars, which, upon her honest word, she
would pay as soon as she had the money.

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To this eloquent suggestion I answered (and I
doubt if the true Abram Skinner could have answered
better) by lamenting her difficulties, and
assuring her I was in as great trouble as herself,
not having a cent at command that I could call
my own (the iron chest told another story, and there
were divers handsome hundreds placed to my credit
in three or four different banks); nevertheless I had
a little money belonging to a friend, which I
thought I might make so free as to lend to one of
her excellent character and standing; but that
would be taking a great responsibility on my shoulders,
&c. &c., in terms which the reader can easily
imagine; and I concluded by hinting, that if she
had any plate or other valuables to deposite as a
security, it would save her the trouble of giving her
note, and the inconvenience such an instrument
might prove to her, if my friend's necessities should
comple him to throw it into the market.

The widow, delighted with my frankness, and
penetrated by my friendliness, ran home, and returned
with a basket of chattels to the value of perhaps
three hundred and fifty dollars.

“Very good,” said I; “you shall have the money,
though I should have to pay for it myself.”

“Sure,” said she, “but you are a good obliging
man, and I shall be much beholden: and sure, but
I thought all pawnbrokers had golden balls at their
doors.”

“Madam,” said I, “thank your good fortune that
I am not a pawnbroker. Had you gone to such a

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person you would have paid dear for your money,
and perhaps lost your silver into the bargain.
Now, supposing this silver to be worth three hundred
dollars—”

“Three hundred lack-a-daisies!” said the old
lady, “why, it cost more than four hundred dollars;
for I remember the coffee-pot—”

“Yes, ma'am,” said I; “that was the cost of
making: I reckon the silver at about three hundred
dollars, though that is a large allowance. Now,
had you taken this to a pawnbroker, what do you
think he would have loaned you on it?”

“To be sure, and I suppose; but I can't say.”

“One hundred dollars, perhaps, if a moderate
fellow,” said I; “but I am another sort of man;
I scorn to take any advantage of any one. Yes,”
said I, feeling warm and virtuous, “I scorn them
there fellows that take advantage, and grind down
the poor to the last mite. I, Mrs.—, hum, ha,
Mrs.—”

“Mrs. Smith,” said the old lady, eying me with
admiration.

I, Mrs. Smith, will treat you in another way;
I will let you have what you want—the full two
hundred dollars, for the space of thirty days, and
charge you but twenty-five dollars for the favour.”

“Sure,” said Mrs. Smith, “and that's dear.”

“On the contrary, madam,” said I, “it is but
twelve and a half per cent. a month, whereas money
will often fetch fifteen.”

“Will it, indeed?” said the foolish widow; “and

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sure but you must know better than myself. Well,
then, Mr. Skinner, let me have the two hundred
dollars, and you shall have the plate in pawn.”

“No, ma'am,” said I, “none but a pawnbroker
can do that. A gentleman like myself does this
sort of thing in another manner; for were I to receive
this silver as a pawn, you might prosecute
me for it in court, and make me pay a fine. The
way we do is this; I buy the plate of you, for two
hundred dollars, taking a receipt from you for that
amount, and granting you, on my part, a written
permission to purchase the same back again, this
day month, for the sum of two hundred and twenty-five
dollars.”

“La!” said the old lady, “is that the way? But
what if I should not get the money in a month?”

“Why, then,” said I, with a look of benevolence,
“why, then, I think I must give you a month
longer.”

“Sure and you are the best man in the world,”
said Mrs. Smith; “and you think my silver won't
be in no danger? and you'll lock it up in some big
iron chest? for thieves are quite thick already;
and your paper to buy again will be just as good as
a pawnbroker's certificate?”

I hastened to satisfy the old lady's mind on this
and all other subjects. I then wrote out a receipt,
which I caused her to subscribe, being a due acknowledgment
on her part of having sold me certain
specified articles of plate; after which I delivered
her a paper, in which, without troubling

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myself to make any reference to the conveyance, I
covenanted to sell her the same articles, at the price
mentioned before, at the expiration of thirty days.

With this and the two hundred dollars which I
now gave her, the foolish woman departed very well
satisfied; and as for me, I actually rubbed my
hands together with the delight of having made
such a good bargain. I say again, old Skinner
himself could not have managed the affair with
greater address than myself; and, young as I was
in his body, I felt as much satisfaction at having
overreached a silly old woman, as ever a less avaricious
man felt at deluding a young one. This
was small game, to be sure, for a man who dabbled
in stocks, and counted profits, not by dollars,
but by hundreds and thousands; but, as I said before,
Abram Skinner was a man of all work, who
thought no gain small enough to be despised, and
who cheated a single tatterdemalion with as much
zeal as he would fleece a community.

The end of the bargain was this: in a month's
time Mrs. Smith called on me again, but without
money; whereupon I spoke to her with greater benevolence
than before, assured her she need not be
distressed, and renewed the engagement between
us by adding twenty-five dollars (the interest upon
the money advanced) to the sums specified in the
conveyance and covenant; and the same amount I
added at the expiration of the second month. And
this course I intended to pursue for two months
more, until the amount of interest should swell the

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purchase-money to three hundred dollars; after
which I designed to close the bargain, and consider
the silver fairly purchased.

If anybody supposes I treated the old woman ill—
that I acted dishonestly, and even illegally, in the
matter—all I have to say is, that I only did what
Abram Skinner the shaver had done a thousand
times before me, and what, I have no doubt, other
worthy gentlemen of his tribe have done after me.
He who rides with the devil must put up with his
driving; and he who deals with his nephews must
look for something warmer than burnt fingers.

The transaction with Mrs. Smith was a sample
of divers others, begun and conducted on the same
principles, though involving more momentous profits.
The system of forfeitures, as practised by a
skilful hand, is applicable to all species of property,
and I practised it with great effect in the case
of houses and lands, and the Lord knows what besides.
The “pressure” continued long; and I think
I should have made a handsome fortune in the
course of the winter out of this single branch of
my business alone, had not destiny arrested me in
the midst of a prosperous career, and left the business
to be settled by my administrators.

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p016-278 CHAPTER III. Reflections on stock-jobbing and other matters.

But this was but a branch, and a small one, of
my profession. My noblest blows were struck at
the community at large; and struck in that most
magnificent of gambling-fields, the stock-market.
My skill here—for I inherited all the sagacity and
daring that had distinguished the original owner of
my body—was such as to keep me at the head of
that confraternity of which I have spoken before
I was the very devil among the fancy stocks; and
had the good luck to originate and conduct a stroke
of cornering, by which no less than twenty young
shop-keepers, who were ambitious to be seen on
'change and in brokers' offices, and to dare that
achievement of audacity, selling on time, were
smashed like coal-candlesticks, and half as many
wiser and richer desperadoes were driven to the
verge of ruin.

My chief strength, indeed, was shown in the
management of small stocks, and especially those
that were good for nothing, and more especially still
in southern mining-companies. It was here that
we of the Clipping Club, as the members of the
fraternity delighted to call themselves, found our
fairest opportunity to prey upon those passions of
cupidity and terror which lay the ignorant at the

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mercy of the knowing. No one knew better than
myself how to get up or depress such a stock. I
knew how many ignorant widows, poor parsons,
infirm artisans, and other needy persons were to be
cajoled, by the prospect of handsome and increasing
dividends, to invest their petty savings when it
could be done at small premiums; and I knew how
easily the terror of loss could drive them out of
their investments. To say the truth, the principal
business of myself and my brother clippers was to
bob for such minnows; and it is incredible how
they bite, though it is only to be bitten. A few
words scattered at random, and still fewer uttered
in confidence, were enough to send shoals of these
unlucky creatures to swallow what we thought
proper to sell; and a few doubts and long faces,
added to the throwing away at low prices of a few
dozen shares, sufficed to convert the trembling holders
into sellers, whenever we deemed it advisable to
buy. In this way I have known a pet stock to be
tossed up and down like a ball, while every ascent
and downfall served the purpose of filling the pockets
of the fraternity and emptying those of the victims.

In such occupations as these passed three months
of my existence, and, sinner that I am, I thought
that they passed very honestly. The spirit of
Abram Skinner had left such a taint of rascality in
his body, that my own was thoroughly imbued with
it; from which I infer that a man's body is like a
barrel, which, if you salt fish in it once, will make

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fish of every thing you put into it afterward. A
grain of lying or thieving, or any such spicy propensity,
infused into the youthful breast by a tender
parent, will give a scent to the spirit for life; and
as this is a fact, I recommend parents to take no
notice of it,—not supposing parents will take advice,
except by contraries. The passion of Abram
Skinner destroyed every trait that had belonged to
Sheppard Lee; and as for those I had taken from
John H. Higginson and I. D. Dawkins, they were
lost in like manner. I was Abram Skinner, and
nothing but Abram Skinner. I scarce remembered
that I had ever been any thing else. I am free
now to confess, what I was not so certain of then,
though I had my doubts on the matter at times,—
namely, that in labouring so hard after lucre, I was
only striving to sell my soul to the greatest advantage.

Idleness is said to be the root of all evil. The
root of much evil I never doubted it was. But my
experience in the body of Abram Skinner has convinced
me, that the industry to which a man is
goaded by the love of money is the root of much
greater evil,—of a bigger upas, indeed, than ever
sprung from the bed of the sluggard. The idler
may betake him to the bottle, as the idler usually
does, and then lapse into a reprobate, which is a
common consequence; but, at the worst, his crimes
are committed at the expense of individuals. The
man of avarice drinks out of his purse, which intoxicates
quite as deeply as the bowl, makes war upon

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communities, preys legally upon his neighbour's
pocket, and just as legally consigns his neighbour's
children to want and beggary, from which it appears
that he is a drunkard, thief, and murderer,
just as naturally as the idler. The latter, by indulging
his propensity, loses his character; the
former, by indulging his, loses all those generous
sentiments and feelings, the sense of honour and
instinct of integrity, upon which character should
be founded. The man who enriches himself by
extracting wealth from the soil and the bowels of
the earth, or by the practice of any art or business
which supplies the necessaries of life, or ministers
to the convenience of society, makes his money virtuously,
and deserves to enjoy it in honour; but he
who gains a fortune by the mere gambling legerdemain
of speculation, by turning his neighbour's
pockets wrong side out, is—not so much of a Christian
as he supposes. My honest opinion, formed
after much reflection and experience, is, that bulls
and bears are as little likely to go to heaven as any
other animals.

In regard to myself, I am as free to confess, that
my course of life while in Abram Skinner's body
was deserving of all reprobation. I hope that the
acts I then committed may be laid to old Skinner's
door; but, for fear of a mistake, I have endeavoured
to repent them, as being sins of my own
committing: and this course I recommend to all
those good folks who are persuaded their peccadilloes
are the fault of others, and for the same reason,

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—namely, lest they should be mistaken. I confess
also that I had my doubts, even at the time of committing
them, of the righteousness of my acts, and
that I sometimes had bad dreams: but the fury of
avarice stilled the pangs of conscience, as the fury
of wrath and battle stills those of the wounded soldier.

Having made these admissions, I will now betake
me to my story.

END OF VOL. I Back matter

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Bird, Robert Montgomery, 1806-1854 [1836], Sheppard Lee, volume 1 (Harper & Brothers, New York) [word count] [eaf016v1].
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