Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 32 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

pretty early, and took a walk about town. He came paddling down about Yale College, but all was still enough thereabouts. This was about four o’clock in the morning. Arter the old cove had taken a tramp all about the lower part of the,town, he bolted home along the same old way, anxious, no doubt, to get home in time for his ‘morning bitters; and as he was going it on Greek, and Hebrew, and Latin, or some other kind of dead language, he all at once heard a cow bellow in rather a mournful way. On looking upward, he observed a cow’s head sticking out of a window on the second story of one part of the College, and a big piece of board roped up over her horns, on which was painted in big letters— ‘ Pure Milk For Sale Here.’ “Up rushes the old cove, with silver-bound spectacles in his hand, and when old Jones saw the fixings, he burst right out ‘ haw-hawing '— for to keep from laughing he couldn’t. There stood the critter, all roped up as stout and as nice as was needed, while everybody within seemed to be sleeping. After the old man had taken a good survey of the fixings, he goes at once and rouses the whole Faculty. But what did it amount to? Nothing at all; for, do their best, they couldn’t find who done it; in fact, nobody would know anything about it. But, Pll be hanged, if it wasn't a comical sight, and it made a deal of fun and talk all about town.” ‘*A fine yarn, uncle; but we'll drink, and then for another reminiscence,” said the Presi- dent of the ‘‘ Philistine Society,” the Albani- ‘ Wal, I’m agreeable,” said Keeler, This was an old and worn-out expression of his—an oft-repeated saying. ‘* Now, then, take a fresh cigar,” and the President passed round the box. ‘At another time,” continued ‘old fatty,’ as he landed himself again into his great easy- chair, ‘‘a lot of the boys felt as though they couldn’t live unless they cut up, on that night, some kind of mischief. Wal, they goes and gets Bill Welchem’s old one-cyed horse, and leads him into the main doorway of the Col- lege, and thence to the spot where swung the old bell-rope. It was an awful dark kind of night. This was about one o’clock in the morn- ing. . “Wal, they got an old sugar-box, in which was a lot of hay and oats, and after the devils had tied the bell-rope about Bill Welchem’s old one-eyed horse’s neck, so that in grabbing for oats and hay, the bell would surely strike, the boys, with boots in hand, put for their rooms. Soon a regular hubbub was kicked up, and out came everybody, engines and all, Now, just as quick as these fellows had left clothes and collar, and ruffled up their hair, down they start, hollowing ‘ Fire! fire! fire!’ as loud as a small clap of thunder. \ Wal, in a few minutes arter the first alarm, you'd better believe that there was a little cuss- ing and swearing, saying nothing about the snorting and kicking of old Bill Welchem’s nag. Everybody was mad.” ‘‘ Did they find out who did it?” asked one. ‘‘Wal, no, I rather guess not, although the Faculty tried to be pretty smart. You see, boys,” added Sam, with a smile, ‘‘ J didn’t run out of my bed in the cold January wind, to look for the fire, for a gang of students planned it all on that night, right here in this ’ere room; and the head chap says to me privately, ‘ Uncle Sam, if you hear the bell to-night, or the cry of ‘fire,’ don’t put yourself to any unnecessary trouble, for it’s all in the family.’ What a devil that Maryland chap was!” and Uncle Sam smacked his lips together when he said it. ‘Tell us his name?’ said one, innocently. ‘+ Don't never know names, when you come to that,” was bis keen reply. ‘Dll say one thing, however—he’s one of the biggest ‘politicians out now in this country. J never shall forget him. What lots of money he paid me from time to time, and how he used to go it among the la- dies! He’s the chap who turned a certain church bell bottom side up, on a cold winter’s night, and then filled it with water, se that it | the froze right up. What a churching-time there was about that ere thing! But he was too much for ’em.” “Uncle, let us all drink now, before pro- ceeding any further,” interposed Dan. “Wal, I’m agreeable.” ‘‘That chap, the Maryland boy, was a great gal-hunter, a tremendous lady-killer,” con- | B’hoys of Yale. tinued Keeler, as he sat licking the sugar out of his tumbler. ‘‘He was _ well-acquainted with all the first ladies in town—took ’em to balls and parties, and sleighing. He got about fifteen gals on astring, at one time; and, lordy, what lots of letters and these little perfumed bill joseys—”’ “You mean billet-doux, Uncle Sam,” inter- posed the Alabamian, with a smile. “Yes, them's ’em, but it was an awful ex- pensive job for him —and how the cunning fel- low would soap his mother. One time he wrote her thus: ‘Dear mother—I’min a great speculation—must have two hundred dollars more,’ He got it, and it wa’n’t long before he comes in and says to me: ‘Spare fifty dollars, handy, Mr. Keeler? And says I, ‘Of course.’ He sits right down then, and pensa letter home to this effect: ‘Dear mother—Everything leoks fine and encouraging—prospects are brightening, and Iam in a great speculation ; must have only two hundred dollars more. Back came the money, and—” ‘*But allow me to interrupt you, uncle,” said Dan. ‘‘ What was the speculation?” ‘* Guess.” They all did, but to no purpose, “Taoen, Vl tell you. He got acquainted with the Widow ——’s only daughter, away up town, and as she was an awful rich heiress, his great speculation was—her.” ** And how did he come out?” “Got coflummuxed,” replied Keeler, ‘‘ by a young Bostonian.” *‘ And yet he spent a good deal of money in this speculation, uncle?” “Dan, he spent oceans of money. The gal made him think that he was A No, lin her heart and mind: made hime come up and take tea with the family pretty often; rode out to- gether in the old woman’s fine carriage; used to send right to the College after him, to come immediately to her, as she had been confined to her bed for three days, merely because he had not called; and then, don’t you think, he went one time on such an excuse, and found er playing at the piano, with an old lover of hers by the witch’s side. This was the way she used to keep him in boiling hot water. Then he used to come in here, and tell me all, privately, and get my opinion what he ought to do next. She gave him, one time, a big lock of her hat to wear in the toe of his right boot, so many days, and so many nights, as she told him that there was a charm in it; and the fellow believed it, and did accordingly. “But I must tell you abeut another time, when this Maryland gentleman played his cards awful nice. One dreadful cold night, he took a young gal out a-sleighing, and they went off away out of town, Before they got back, it was the ‘short hours of morning,’ and unfortrnately they ‘broke down;’ and when they ar.ived back, it was impossible to wake up the gal’s mother, The poor little gal was ‘half froze,’ at that; so he says, ‘Go with me to my room, where I will build up a fire so that you can get warm.’ She did so, and he meant her no harm in the world, for he loved her. Says she, ‘/’d better do that than Sreeze to death in thecold air.’ It seemed that the gal was part Dutch and part Yankee, for she wore squeaking shoes. The fellow had on one of these big fashionable cloaks; he took her up in his arms, and wrapped the cloak ali about her when he came to the stairs. Going along slyly, who should he see ahead but one the Professors, with a lantern in his hand, coming down-stairs. It seemed he had been to some noisy students. The fellow turns right about, and puts down, still keeping the little gal under the cloak, but the sly old Pro- fessor knew too much, “* Hallo, there, young man—which way at this early hour of the morning?” ‘Just got back, sir; am going to carry a saddle home, sir, according to promise.’ ‘““*That will do, that will do, young man; but pull up the stirrups,’ and saying this, the old Professor laughed lightly, and kept back. “You see,” continued Keeler, with a grin, “the gal’s gaiters were just sticking out under cloak,” This story put the boys in high glee, and, of course, all hands had to drink on the strength of the “ stirrups.” The next morning, bright and early, over goes the fellow to old Jones’s house, and there tells him all—explaining everything in a satis- Sactory way.” After the old man had finished, Dan took the 7 liberty of ‘‘spreading himself,” by telling a few scrapes. After he had done, Keeler was at it again. ‘This room has seen a good many big old times, and it’s my candid opinion, there’s been more deviltry concocted hereabouts, than iu any other place about town. When the boys were out ‘sparking ’’ of a Sunday night—and you had better believe there used to be some sparking—and didn’t dare poke home to their college-rooms, they’d come here to my bed- room window, and after rapping away, would bellow out, ‘Uncle Sam.’ So up I used to get and let ’emin, Sometimes there would be eight or ten, then again fifteen or twenty, of a night; and oh! what mighty adventures they used to get off as they laid sprawling about this room. I used to laugh by the hour. One would ask a chum what kind of success did he meet with—what time he took the last kiss; while another one would ask a friend, whether his gal was glad to see him; whether he took tea with the old folks, and what was his candid opinion about his suecess. Then somebody would begin to inquire about getting home to their own rooms, or who could say that they had their lessons, while.all felt pretty anxious to shine. There used to be a wag of a fellow at Yale, who went by the name of ‘Easy Davy,’ and I recollect the boys used to twit him about ‘ courting the widow’s daughter.’ I didn’t know about the particulars; but arter a dozen of ’em had told their love experiences here one night, ‘ Happy Davy,’ as some called him, rapped on my window for admission. After Jed opened the door and iet him in, the boys began to ask him how he left the ‘ widow’s daughter.’ He then began to ‘blow, and he told ’em that he had taken his oath never to go there again; and when asked why, the wag said: ‘** Because when I got ready to come away, just now—just after two o’clock this morning, I found that the old widow, the gal’s mother, instead of going to bed, as she said, about ten o'clock in the evening, had remained up; for as I passed out of the yard, she up’s with the window in the other part of the house, and yells out to me—‘ Davy, Davy, you must come up again soon, for my daughter will want to see you again, surely.’ ” . As Keeler squealed this out, a la ‘ Mise Nancy ” style, it created a general laughter. ‘“We must drink on the strength of that forthwith,” said Harry. ‘“Wal, I’m agreeable,” replied Keeler, ‘* Hark!” whispered one. Several loud raps followed, ‘*Them boys have come, by jingo!” obsarved Uncle Sam, as he got up from out his easy- chair. ‘‘Open the side-door, uncle—open quickly,” roared a voice outside, ‘“‘Heigho!” exclaimed the old fellow as he made for the door, On opening, in rushed three students—the three hailing south of Mason and Dixon’s line. ‘‘Fasten your doors, uncle. Hallo! What! are you here, boys?” cried forth Ogleish, ** All in the family,” averred Dan. “Uncle, see that the curtains are all down, right, if you please.” “All right, my boy!” The three had landed upon the floor a large bag filled with watermelons. ‘What success, boys?’ inquired the old man, in an earnest way, as one of the three began untying the bag. ‘Capital, uncle; have just got some of the finest watermelons ever raised in these parts. Just wait until I loosen this rope, and then you can see for yourself.” ‘‘Run clear of e eh?” asked the old fellow, as he felt of them, bag and all. ‘* All but the dogs—” x ee steel traps,” added another one of the ree. ‘Wal, you three chaps look as though you’d been introducing yourselves to a Florida swamp.” ‘ That’s the fact,” added Dan, ‘Look at Ogleish’s pants, boots and hat— = ripped, another torn, and the hat all stove ‘“« And see Joe’s coat, too.” ‘‘Curse the rope!” said the fellow who was sweating away, trying to untie it, “Awful big feeling ones,” announced Dan, as he felt of bag and all. ‘‘Gracious! ain’t they!” added the Rhode | Islander. NiGDOOKS (¢ (E(0) - — ee ae eee