Life — December 8, 1887 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

think he is in no danger, except what arises on your account,” he answered, “But you have given him such an absurd, stupid character. He is not the somnolent person you repre- sent, and he occupies himself in a great many useful ways besides sports. Go back at once, and say something that will set him right before ‘all those people.’ “T blush to own that all those people are in the habit of taking the utterances of Samuel Grassletree with a grain of salt.” “Then what does it all mean?” “That ‘I would give half I pos- sess,’ as the novelists say, to bring you and my old young friend, Fred- erick Bradstock, together again, If nothing has happened, in the mean- time, on your side to prevent it— may I venture, with infinite respect, to ask whether anything has hap- pened?” No, nothing has happened.” “Then, as between two sensible and kindly disposed human beings, frankly, why can it not be done?” “No, no, I will not hear of it. The fact is, he did not want to go to that dinner from the first, and I had to make him. I knew I must put my foot down in the beginning. Now tell me the real reason he staid away.” “I am sure you do not really think old Fred would get up any false ones to account for it,” expostulated Mr. Grassletree. “He has never given me any, except that he forgot the day.” “Why not accept that one, then, by way of alittle change ? It is Gospel truth, I assure you. Fred was in a strange town; he had a lot of things to see to, and he was always something of a crank or dreamer. Bless you, what is the harm in a little absent-mindedness? The greatest men have been troubled that way, Look at me: I left my best umbrella in an omnibus only this very morning! All Fred Bradstock needs is some one to look after him, With the right kind of wife, to infuse her own excellent habits of order into his doings, he would be a model for models,” “Yes, I dare say,” rejoined his hearer, dryly; ‘let us hope he will get her.” **T have heard him knock his head against the wall, as it ‘were, on account of it, a dozen times, ‘It was so uncom- plimentary to her,’ he says, ‘it can’t be explained. She treated me just as I deserved; she couldn’t have done otherwise,’” “Of course I could not,” assented Ernestine de Gilbert, “but,” flushing very much and almost tearful, ‘why didn’t he do something further? He might have persisted ; he might have kept on trying to explain.” “As I understand it, you would not see him, and poor Fred was never glib with his pen, If I am right, you also returned some of his letters unopened. Am I right in this?” MR. FREDERICK She lowered her head a trifle, as in haughty assent. Yet the shadow of brooding trouble did not seem to hang over Miss de Gilbert now half as much as before. “Fred got it into his head, too, that you were glad the match was off, and you cared for some one else. He tried to brace up on this wrong tack, and devote himself to other women, but it was no go. I tell you, there's no more unhappy man in Christendom than he is to-day.” “You must go af once and say something before those people to set him right.” “ Ladies and gentlemen, driven on by the recklessness of despair to ease an overburdened conscience, I may at the same time have seemed to depreciate another person involved in the story. Let me say that Fred Bradstock is an inmate of no Castle of Indolence, that no one is more wide-awake than he, and that, while all the claims made for the antol-aphobo-takistaferon are as rep- resented, anybody must get up early in the morning, indeed, who would catch him napping. I feel a pro- phetic sense that the end of his troubles is near at hand. While I would withdraw no essential state- ment, may I suggest that all that part of the allegations relating to Fred Bradstock and a musical alarm, or non-alarm, clock, be stricken out, or regarded only in that Pickwickian sense so proper to the observance of this genial East Thirty-fourth Street occasion, at this hospitable Christmas home, or, rather, this home-like Christmas occasion, at this hospitable East Thirty-fourth Street observance. I am convinced that, so far from be- ing in need of extraneous and adventitious aids, the more persons you sent to awaken Fred, the sounder he would sleep; whereas, on the other hand—" BRADSTOCK. **Don't make it any worse,” interrupted his companion, plucking at his sleeve. ‘Of course, if Fred is truly re- pentant—" By the very next mail, there went to the Bermudas a letter, in which Bradstock was assured that the chances of winning back his old sweetheart were most promising. ‘I told them, after dinner,” it concluded, ‘‘a wild tale of an anti-alarm clock I had once meant to give you as a present, and by that means I fixed it all up with her, Rathera handsome piece of work on my part. By the way, the clock is a good one ; I'll send you the maker's name. I ad- vise you to get one; I dare say they are in the market. She is yours, my boy. Come home and take her and the congratulations and blessing of SAMUEL GRASSLETREE.” At the very earliest moment, too, returned an answer from the Bermudas. “I'm coming home—" “Of course he is, lucky young dog! Why shouldn't he? Of course he is—" interpolated Grassletree, complacently. ‘I'm—I'm—" ‘bless me, what's this? What’s this?” ‘I’m on my wedding trip. Married to a lovely girl I met in the Islands. Affair been comicbooks.com