Accordingly, the Charming Serpent holding me by
the hand, led me up the stairs. His steps were steady.
It was evident that his libations had excited his brain,
and instead of weakening him, gave him strength.

What's your name?” said he to me kindly

[figure description] Page 016.[end figure description]

“William Russell, sir.”

“Do you know me, my little fellow?”

“Yes sir, you're Mr. Patterson, the great lawyer.”

“Ah, Ha! they call me the great lawyer! What else
do they say?”

“That you're the greatest orator in the country,” I
replied—for what I had drank made me bold, too.

“They do—I know they do, my little fellow—I believe,
in fact, that I could have stood up in the Areopagus
of old, in favor of human rights, and faced the best
of them. Yes, sir, I too could have fulmined over
Greece. But we are not Grecians now—we are
Pawnees.”

“Stop, stop, Mr. Pawnee,” called out some one from
the crowd, “Short was to go, he is the tallest man.”

“The tallest man,” re-echoed Mr. Patterson, speaking
in his natural tone. “The judge, sir, has already
decided that by just legal construction, Short is short,
no matter how long he is; and, if he claims to be long,
sir, I can just inform him that Lord Bacon says `that
tall men are like tall houses, the upper story is the
worst furnished:” Here every eye was turned on Short,
and there was a shout of laughter.

“If,” continued Mr. Patterson—and it was evident his
potations were doing their work—“if it be true—I'll
just say this to you, sir: Dr. Watts was a very small
man, and he said and I repeat it of all small men—

“There, gentlemen of the jury; if that be true, I
opine that the tallest man in the crowd is addressing
you. But, I forget, I am a Pawnee.”

“Brothers: The tall grass of the prairies is swept by

[figure description] Page 017.[end figure description]

the fire, while the flint endureth the flames of the stake.
The loftiest trees of the forest snap like a reed in the
whirlwind, and the bird that builds there leaves her eggs
unhatched. The highest peak of the mountain is always
the bleakest and barest—in the valley are the
sweet waters and the pleasant places. Damn it,” said
he, speaking in his proper person, for he began to forget
his personation, “why do we value the gem—

“That's Burns, an illustrious name, gentlemen.—
When I was minister abroad, I stood beside the peasant-poet's
grave, and thanked God that he had given me
the faculties to appreciate him. Suppose that he had
been born in this land of ours, sirs, all we who think
ourselves lights in law and statesmanship would have
seen our stars paled—paled, sirs, as the fire of the
prairie grows dim when the eye of the great spirit looks
forth from the eastern gates—damn it, that's Ossian and
not Pawnee—upon it in its fierceness.

That's Byron—I know him well—handsome fellow.
`Thou shinest not on my soul'—no but thou shinest on
the prairie.”

“The usher!—Dogberry—let's have Dogberry!”
called out several of the students.

“Ha!” exclaimed Mr. Patterson, “Dogberry!” He's
Goldsmith's village teacher, that caused the wonder—

“That one small head could carry all he knew.'

Dogberry!—Dogberry?—but that sounds Shaksperian.
`Reading and writing come by nature.' Those

[figure description] Page 018.[end figure description]

certainly are not his sentiments. I mean the defendant's—
were they, he should throw away the usher's rod and
betake himself to something else; for if these things
come by nature, then is Dogberry's occupation gone.
Yes, he had better betake himself to the constableship—
the night watch. Come my little friend—come, son
of the Pawnee, and we will arouse the pale face.”

Obeying Mr. Patterson, we ascended to the little platform
in front of Dogberry's door, at which he rapped
three times distinetly. “Who's there?” cried out a
voice from within. Dogberry must of course have been
awake for at least half an hour.

“Pale-face,” said the Pawnee chief. “Thou hast not
followed the example of the great chief of the pale-faces;
the string of thy latch is pulled in. Upon my word,
this is certainly the attic story,” he continued in a low
voice—“are you attic too Dogberry?”

“No sir I am rheumatic—gentleman, unless your
business be pressing”—

“Pressing! Pale-face, the Pawnees have lit their
council fire, and invite thee to drink with them the fire-water,
and smoke the pipe of peace.”

“Thank you, gentlemen, I never drink,” responded
Dogberry, in an impatient tone.

“Never drink! Pale-face, thou liest! Who made
the fire-water, and gave it to my people, but thee and
thine? Lo! before it, though they once covered the
land, they have melted away like snow beneath the
sun.”

“I belong to the temperance society,” cried out Dogberry
from within. “Dogberry,” exclaimed Patterson—
whose patience, like that of the crowd below, who
were calling for the usher as if they were at a town
meeting and expected him to speak, was becoming

[figure description] Page 019.[end figure description]

exhausted—“Dogberry, compel me not, as your great
name-sake would say, to commit either `perjury' or
`burglary,' and break your door open. You remember
in Marmion, Dogberry, that the chief, speaking of the
insult which had been put upon him, said:

Now I will not say that I would make you drink
wherever the old chief would `right his wrongs,' but
this I will say, that whenever I, Burbage Patterson, get
drunk, I think you can come forth and take a stirrup
cup with him: he leaves for the Supreme Court to-morrow,
to encounter the giant of the North.”

“Mr. Patterson,” said Dogberry, coming towards
the door, “your character can stand it—it can stand
anything—mine can't.”

“There's truth in that,” said Mr. Patterson aside
to me.

“Gentlemen, let us leave the pedagogue to his reflection;
and now it occurs to me that we had better
not uncage him, for, boys, he would be a witness against
you; more, witness, judge, jury, and executioner—by
the by, clear against law. Were I in your place, I
would appeal, and for every stripe he gives you,
should the judgment be reversed, do you give him two.”

Here a sprightly fellow, one of the scholars, named
Morris, from Long Green, ran up the steps and said to
Mr. Patterson:

“Do, sir, have him out, for if we get him into the
frolic too, we are as safe, sir, as if we were all in our
beds. He has seen us all through some infernal crack
or other.”

“Ah,” exclaimed Mr. Patterson in a low tone to Morris,
“he has been playing Cowper, has he—“looking

[figure description] Page 020.[end figure description]

from the loop holes of retreat, seeing the Babel and not
feeling the stir.”

“Yes, sir, but he'll make a stir about it to-morrow.”

“He shall come forth, then,” said Mr. Patterson;
“Dogberry, open the door; they speak of removing
Sears, and why don't you come forth and greet your
friends? We have an idea of getting the appointment
for you.”

This flattery took instant effect, for we heard Dogberry
bustling to the door, and in a moment it was
opened about half way, and the usher put his head out,
and said, but with evident wish that his invitation would
be refused, “Will you come in, sir?—Why William
Russell!” to me in surprise.

“Pale-face, this is a youthful brave to whom I want
the pale-face to teach the arts of his race. Behold!
I am the Charming Serpent. Come forth and taste of
the fire-water.”

As Mr. Patterson spoke, he took Dogberry by the
hand and pulled him on the platform. The usher was
greeted with loud acclamations and laughter by the
crowd. He, however, did not relish it, and was frightened
out of his wits. He really looked the personification
of a caricature. His head was covered with an old
flannel night cap, notwithstanding it was warm weather,
and his trowsers were held up by his hips, while his
suspenders dangled about his knees. On his right leg
he had an old boot, and on his left foot an old shoe; he
was without coat or vest. As Mr. Patterson held up the
light so that the crowd below could see him, there was
such a yelling as had not been heard on the spot since
those whose characters the crowd were assuming had
left it.

Dogberry hastily withdrew into his room, but followed

[figure description] Page 021.[end figure description]

by Mr. Patterson and myself, each bearing a light.—
When we entered, the crowd rushed up the steps.

“For God's sake, sir, for the sake of my character
and situation, don't let them come in here.”

“They shall not if you will promise to drink with me
Pale face, speak, will you drink with the Pawnee?”

“Yes, sir,” said Dogberry faintly.

The Charming Serpent here went to the door, and
said:

“Brothers, the Charming Serpent would hold a private
talk with the chief of the pale faces. Ere long, he
will be with you. Let the Big Bull (one of the lawyers
was named Bull, and he was very humorous.) pass
round the fire water and the calumet, and by that time
the Charming Serpent will come forth. Brothers, give
unto the Charming Serpent some of the fire water that
he may work his spells.”

A dozen handed up bottles of different wines and liquors.
The Charming Serpent gave Dogberry the candles
to hold, took a bottle of Champagne and handed
me another. Then shutting the door he said:

“This is the fire-water that hath no evil in it. It courses
through the veins like a silvery lake through the prairie,
where the wild grass waves green and glorious, and it
makes the heart merry like the merriment of birds in
the spring time, and not with the fierce fires of the dark
lake, like the strong fire-water that glows red as the living
coal. Brothers, we will drink.”

Dogberry's apartment was indeed an humble one.
Only in the centre of it could you stand upright. Over
our heads were the rafters and bare shingles, formed exactly
in the shape of the capitalletter Vinverted. Opposite
the door was a little window of four panes of
glass, and under it, or rather beside it, in the corner,

[figure description] Page 022.[end figure description]

was a little beadstead, with a straw mattress upon it. A
small table, with a tumbler and broken pitcher and candle
in a tin candle-stick on it, stood opposite the bed.
A board nailed across from rafter to rafter, held a few
books, and beside it on nails, were several articles of
clothing. There were besides in the apartment two
chairs, and a wooden chest in the corner by the door.

“Come, drink, my old boy,” exclaimed Patterson.

“Thank you, Mr. Patterson, your character can stand
it, I tell you, but mine can't.”

“Friend of my soul, this goblet sip,” reiterated Patterson,
offering Dogberry the glass.

“Thank you Mr. Patterson, I would not choose any,”
said he.

“You can't but choose, Dogberry; there is no alternative.
Do you remember what the poet beautifully
says of the Roman daughter, who sustained her imprisoned
father from her own breast?


`Drink, drink, and live, old man;
Heaven's realm holds no such tide.'
Do you remember it? I bid you drink, then, and I say
to you Hebe, nor Ganymede never offered to the immortals
purer wine than that; I imported it for my own
use. Drink! here's to you, Dogberry, and to your
speedy promotion;” and Mr. Patterson swallowed every
drop in the glass, and, refilling it, handed it to the usher.

“How do you like the letter, Mr. Dogberry?” asked
Mr. Patterson of the pedagogue.

“What letter, sir? Mr. Patterson, I must say this is
a strange proceeding. I don't know, sir, to what you
allude.”

“Don't know to what I allude! Why, the letter wishing
to know if you would take the academy at the same
price at which Sears now holds it.”

[figure description] Page 023.[end figure description]

“Sir, I have no such letter. I certainly, sir, would,
if it was thought that I was—”

“Was competent. Merit is always modest; you're
the most competent of the two, sir,—take some.”

So saying, Mr. Patterson filled up the tumbler, and
Dogberry swallowed the compliment and the wine together,
and fixed his eye on the rafters with an exulting
look.

While he was so gazing, the lawyer filled his glass,
and observed, “Come, drink, and let me open this other
bottle; I want a glass myself.” Down went the wine,
and with a smack of his lips, Dogberry handed the
glass to Mr. Patterson.

“Capital, ain't it, eh?”

“Capital,” re-echoed Dogberry. The wine and his
supposed honors had roused the brain of the pedagogue
in a manner which seemed to awake him to a
new existence. While Mr. Patterson was striking the
top from the other bottle, Dogberry handed me the candle
which he held—the other he had put in his candle-stick,
taking out his own candle when he first drank—
and lifting the tumbler, he stood ready.

Again he quaffed a bumper. The effect of these
potations on him was electrical. He had a long face,
with a snipe-like nose, which was subject to a nervous
twitching whenever its owner was excited. It now
danced about, seemingly, all over his face, while his
naturally cadaverous countenance, under the excitement,
turned to a glowing red, and his small ferret eyes
looked both dignified and dancing, merry and important.
“So,” he exclaimed, “I am to be principal of the
academy; ha, ha, ha! oh, Lord! William Russel, I
would reprove you on the spot, but that you are in such
distinguished company.”

[figure description] Page 024.[end figure description]

Whether Dogberry meant only Mr. Patterson, or included
himself, I do not know, but as he spoke he
arose, and paced his apartment with a proud tread, forgetting
what a figure he cut, with his suspenders dangling
about his knees and his night cap on, and forgetting
also that his attic was not high enough to admit
his head to be carried at its present altitude. The consequence
was that he stuck it against one of the rafters,
with a violence that threatened injury to the rafter, if not
to the head. He stooped down and rubbed the affected
part, when Mr. Patterson said to him, “Pro-di-gi-ous,”
as Dominie Sampson, one of you, said, ain't it? Hang
Franklin's notion about stooping in this world. Come,
we'll finish this bottle, and then go forth. The scholars
are all rejoiced at your promotion, and are all assembled
without to do you honor. They have made a
complete saturnalia of it. They marvel why you treat
them with so much reserve.”

“Gad, I'll do it,” exclaimed Dogberry, taking the
tumbler and swallowing the contents.

“Just put your blanket around you,” said Patterson
to him, “and let your night-cap remain; it becomes
you.”

“No, it don't indeed, though eh?”

“It does, 'pon honor. That's it. Now, pale face,
come forth; the eloquence of the Charming Serpent has
prevailed.”

So speaking, Mr. Patterson opened the door, and we
stepped on to the platform.

The scene without was grotesque in the extreme. In
front of us, I suppose to the number of a hundred persons,
were the frolickers, composed of lawyers, students,
and town's people, all seated in a circle; while Mr. Paterson's
client from the West, dressed in costume, was

[figure description] Page 025.[end figure description]

giving the Pawnee war-dance. This client was a rough,
uneducated man, but full of originality and whim. Mr.
Patterson had gained a suit for him, in which the title
to an estate in the neighborhood was involved, worth
upwards of sixty thousand dollars. The whole bar had
believed that the suit could not be sustained by Patterson,
but his luminous mind had detected the clue
through the labyrinths of litigation, where they saw
nothing but confusion and defeat. His client was overjoyed
at the result, as every one had croaked defeat to
him. He gave Mr. Patterson fifteen thousand dollars,
five more than he had promised, and had made him a
present of the splendid Indian dress in which, as a bit
of fun, before the frolic commenced, he had decked
himself, under the supervision of his client, who acted
as his costumer, and afterwards dressed himself in the
same way. The client had a great many Indian dresses
with him, which he had collected with great care, and
on this occasion he had thrown open his trunks and supplied
nearly the whole bar.

The name of Mr. Patterson's client was Blackwood,
and the admiration which he excited seemed to give
him no little pleasure. Most of the lawyers in the circle
had something Indian on them, while the boys, who
could not appear in costume, and were determined to
appear wild, had turned their jackets wrong side out,
and swapped with each other, the big ones with the little,
so that one wore his neighbor's jacket, the waist
of which came up under his arms, and exhibited the
back of his vest, while the other wore a coat, the hip
buttons of which were at his knees.

On the outskirts of this motley assembly could be
seen, here and there, a negro, who might be said at
once to contribute to the darkness that surrounded the

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

scene and to reflect light upon it; for their black skins
were as ebon as night, while their broad grins certainly
had something luminous about them, as their white
teeth shone forth.

We stood about a minute admiring the dance, when
it was concluded, some one espied us, and pointed us
out to the rest. We, or rather, I should say, Dogberry,
was greeted with three times three. I have never
seen, for the size of the assembly, such an uproarious
outbreak of bacchanalian merriment. After the cheers
were given, many of the boys threw themselves on the
grass and rolled over and over, shouting as they rolled.
Others jerked their fellow's hats off, and hurled them in
the air. Prettyman stood with his arms folded, as if
he did not know what to make of it, and then, deliberately
spreading his blanket on the ground, he deliberately
took a seat in the centre of it, and, like an amateur
at play, enjoyed the scene. Morris held his sides,
stooped down his head, and glanced sideways cunningly
at Dogberry, throwing his head back every now
and then with a sudden jerk, while loud explosive bursts
of laughter, from his very heart, echoed through the
village above every other sound.

“A speech from Dogberry!” exclaimed Prettyman.

“Ay, a speech!” shouted Morris, “a speech!”

“No, gentlemen, not now,” exclaimed Richardson,
the proprietor of one of the hotels; “I sent down to
my house an hour ago, and have had a collation served.
Mr. Patterson, and gentlemen and students all, I
invite you to partake with me.”

“Silence!” called out Mr. Patterson. All were silent.
“Students of the Belle-Air academy and citizens
generally, I have the honor to announce to you that my
friend, Mr. Dogberry, is about to supercede Mr. Sears.

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

We must form a procession and place him in our midst,
the post of honor, and then to mine host's.” So speaking,
Mr. Patterson descended, followed by Dogberry and
myself. The students gave their candles to the negroes
to hold, joined their hands, and danced round Dogberry
with the wildest glee, while he received it all in
drunken dignity.

When I have seen since, in Chapman's floating theatre,
or in a barn or shed in the far West, some lubberly,
drunken son of the sock and buskin enact Macbeth,
with the witches about him, I have recalled this
scene, and thought that the boys looked like the witches,
and Dogberry like the Thane, when the witches greet
him:

The procession was at length formed. Surrounded
by the boys, who rent the air with shouts, with his night-cap
on his head and his blanket around him, with one
boot and one shoe, Dogberry, following immediately
after the judges, proceeded with them to Richardson's
hotel. Whenever there was the silence of a minute or
two, some boy or other would ask Dogberry not to remember
on the morrow that he saw them out that night.”

“No, boys, no; certainly not; this thing, I understand,
is done in honor of me—I shan't take Sears in
even as an assistant. Boys, he has not used me
well.”

We arrived at Richardson's as well as we could, having
business on both sides of the street. His dining
room was a very large one, and he had a very fine collation
set out, with plenty of wines and other liquors.—
Judge Willard took the head of the table, and Judge
Noland the foot. Dogberry was to the right of Judge
Willard, and Mr. Patterson to the left. He made me

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

sit beside him. The eating was soon despatched, and
it silenced us all a little, while it laid the ground work
for standing another supply of wine, which was soon
sparkling in our glasses, and we were now all more excited
than ever. It was amusing to see the merry faces
of my schoolmates twinkling about among the crowd,
trying to catch and comprehend whatever was said by
the lawyers, particularly those that were distinguished.

Songs were sung, sentiments given, and Indian talks
held by the quantity. Dogberry looked the while first
at the boys, and then at the lawyers, and then at himself,
not knowing whether or not the scene before him was a
reality or a dream. The great respect which the boys
showed him, and Patterson making an occasional remark
to him, seemed at least not only fully to impress
him with the reality, but also with a full, if not a sober
conviction of his own importance.

“A song!—a song!” was shouted by a dozen of the
larger students; “a song from Morris. Give us `Down
with the pedagogue Sears.' Hurrah for old Dogberry!
Dogberry forever!”

“No,” cried out others, “a speech from Mr. Patterson—
no, from the Pawnee You're finable for not speaking
in character.”

Here Prettyman took Mr. Patterson courteously by
the hand, and said something to him in a whisper.

“Ah ha!” exclaimed Mr. Patterson, “so it shall be;
I like Morris. Come, my good fellow, sing us the
song you wrote; come, Dogberry's Star is now in the
ascendant. `Down with the pedagogue Sears'—let's
have it.

Nothing loth, Morris was placed on the table, while
the students gathered round him, ready to join the
chorus. Taking a preparatory glass of wine, while

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

Mr. Patterson rapped on the table by way of commanding
silence. Morris placed himself in an attitude and
sang the following which he had written on some rebellious
occasion or other:

“Hip, hip, hurrah—once more,” shouted Morris.
“Now then”—

While the whole room was in uproarious chorussing,
who should enter but Sears himself. He looked round
with stern dignity and surprise, at first uncertain on
whom to fix his indignation, when his eye lit on Dogberry,
who, the most elated and inebriated of all, was
flourishing his night cap over his head, and shouting at
the top of his voice:

As soon as Sears caught a view of Dogberry, he

[figure description] Page 030.[end figure description]

advanced towards him, as if determined to inflict personal
chastisement on the usher. At first Dogberry
again prepared to vociferate the chorus, but when he
met the eye of Sears his voice failed him, and he moved
hastily towards Mr. Patterson, who slapped him on the
shoulders, and cried out,

“Dogberry, be true to yourself.”

“I am true to myself. Yes, my old boy, old Sears,
you're no longer head devil at Belle-air Academy.—
You're no devil at all, or if you are, old boy, you're a
poor devil, and be d—d to you.”

“You're a drunken out-cast, sir,” exclaimed Sears.
“Never let me see your face again; I dismiss you from
my service from Belle-air Academy” and so speaking,
he took a note book from his pocket, and began
hastily to take down the names of the students. The
Big Bull saw this, and caught it from his hand.

“Sir, sir,” exclaimed Sears, enraged, “my vocation,
and not any respect I bear you, prevents my infliction
of personal chastisement upon you. Boys, young
gentlemen, leave instantly for your respective boarding
houses.”

During this, Patterson was clapping Dogberry on
the shoulder, evidently to inspire him with courage.

“Tell him yourself,” I overheard Dogberry say.

“No, no,” replied Patterson, “it is your place.”

“Well, then, I'll tell you at once, Sears: you're no
longer principal of this academy; you're dished. Mr.
Patterson, sir, will tell you so.”

“Mr. Patterson!” exclaimed Sears, for the first time
recognizing, in the semblance of the Indian chief, the
distinguished lawyer and statesman. “Sir, I am more
than astonished.”

“Sir,” rejoined Patterson, drawing himself up with

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

dignity, “I am a Pawnee brave; more, a red-man eloquent,
or a pale-face eloquent, as it pleases me; but,
sir, under all circumstances, I respect your craft and
calling. What more dignified than such! A poor,
unfriended boy, I was taken by the hand by an humble
teacher of a country school, and here I stand, let
me say, sir, high in the councils of a great people, a
leader among leaders in the senate hall of nations—
and I owe it to him. Peace to old Playfair's ashes
The old philosopher, like Porson, loved his cups, and,
like Parr, loved his pipe; but, sir, he was a ripe scholar
and a noble spirit, and I have so said, sir, in the
humble monument which I am proud, sir, I was enabled,
through the education he gave me, to build over
him;


`After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well.'
Yes, as some one says, he was `my friend before
had flatterers.' How proud he was of me! I remember
well catching his eye in making my first speech,
and the approving nod he gave me had more gratification
to me than the approbation of bench, bar, and
audience. Glorious old Playfair! Mr. Sears, you
were his pupil too. Many a time have I heard him
speak of you; he said, of all his pupils you were the
one to wear his mantle. And, sir, that was the highest
compliment he could pay you—the highest, Mr.
Speaker, for he esteemed himself of the class of the
philosophers, the teachers of youth. Sir, Mr. Sears,
I propose to you that, in testimony of our life-long respect
for him, we drink to his memory.”

This was said so eloquently, and withal so naturally,
that Sears, forgetful of his whereabouts, took the
glass which Mr. Patterson offered him, and drank its
contents reverently to the memory of his old teacher.

[figure description] Page 032.[end figure description]

“Sir,” resumed Patterson, “how glorious is your
vocation! But, tell me, do you subscribe to the sentiments
of Don Juan?


`O, ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions—
It mends their morals—never mind the pain.”'
The appropriate quotation caused a thrill to run through
the assembled students, while they cast ominous looks
at each other. For the life of him, Sears could not
resist a smile.

At this Mr. Patterson glanced at us with a quiet
meaning, and, turning to Mr. Sears, he continued:
“The elder Adams taught school—he whose eloquence
Jefferson has so loudly lauded—the man who was for
liberty or death, and so expressed himself in that beautiful
letter to his wife. Do you not remember that
passage, sir, where he speaks of the Fourth being
greeted thereafter with bon-fires and illuminations?
His son, Johnny Q. taught school. My dark-eyed
friend Webster, who is now figuring so gloriously in
the halls of Congress and in the Supreme Court and
whom I meet to-morrow, taught school. Judge Rowan,
of Kentucky, a master spirit too, taught school.
Who was that


`Who passed the flaming bounds of time and space,
The living throne, the sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble as they gaze:
Who saw, but, blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night—'
Who was he? Milton—the glorious, the sublime,—
who, in his aspirations for human liberty, prayed to
that great Spirit who, as he himself says, `sends forth
the fire from his altar to touch and purify the lips of
whom he pleaseth'—Milton, the school-master.


`If fallen in evil days on evil tongues,
Milton appealed to the avenger, Time:

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

If Time, the avenger, execrates his wrongs,
And makes the word `Miltonic' mean `sublime,'
He deigned not to belie his soul in songs,
Nor turn his very talent to a crime;
He did not loath the sire to laud the son,
But closed the tyraut-hater he begun.
`Think'st thou, could he—the blind old man—arise,
Like Samuel, from the grave, to freeze once more
The blood of monarchs with his prophecies,
Or be alive again—again all hoar,
With time and trials, and those helpless eyes
And heartless daughters, worn, and pale, and poor'—
Would he not be proud of his vocation, when he reflected
how many great spirits had followed his example?
The school-master is indeed abroad. Mr. Sears,
let us drink the health of the blind old man eloquent.”

“Thank you, thank you, Mr. Patterson, but before
my scholars, under the circumstances, it would be setting
a bad example, when existing circumstances prove
they need a good one. Sir, it was thought that I
should not return from Baltimore until to-morrow, and
this advantage has been taken of my absence. But,
Mr. Patterson, when such distinguished gentlemen
as yourself set the example, I know not what to say.”

“Forgive them, sir, forgive them,” said Mr. Patterson,
in his blandest tone.

“Let them repair to their homes, then, instantly.
Mr. Patterson, your eloquent conversation has made
me forget myself; I don't wonder they should have forgotten
themselves. Let them depart.”

“There, boys,” exclaimed Mr. Patterson, “I have
a greater opinion of my oratorical powers than ever.
Be ye all dismissed until I again appear as a Pawnee
brave, which I fear will be a long time, for 'tis not
every day that such men as my western client are
picked up. But, Mr. Sears, what do you say about

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Dogberry? He must be where he was; to morrow
must type yesterday. Dogberry, how is Verges?”

“I don't know him,” said Dogberry, doggedly.

“Why, sir, he is the associate of your name-sake
in Shakspeare's immortal page. Let this play to-night,
Mr. Sears, be like that in which Dogberry's name-sake
appeared—let it be `Much ado about Nothing.”'

Sears smiled and nodded his head approvingly.

“Then be the court adjourned,” exclaimed Mr.
Patterson. “Dogberry, you and my friend Sears are
still together, and you must remember in the premises
what your name-sake said to Verges, `An two men
ride of a horse, one man must ride behind.”'

Giving three cheers for Mr. Patterson, we boys separated,
and the next day found us betimes in the academy,
where mum was the word between all parties.

p387-044

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