Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 380 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

PLE Tt _ a pleasure! ey _ 2 gc the face of a young Don w ee ee es eS **T? Confound you! do you mean to leave me to face her alone?” ‘¢No! no! Summon reinforcements! Ask the Governor to call out the milita! Anything!— only Pm off!” ** But, see here!—you’re as much interested in this thing as I am.” And Bristow laid hold of the lapel of his fel- low-senator’s coat. But the judge, determined to escape, freed himself, whispering: ‘**T tell you, man, she’s bearing down upon us! And I give you my word, Bristow, lil speak to His Excellency in your behalf!” With his eye-glasses dropping from his nose in the agitation of his mock scuffle, Judge Little- john hurried away, covering his flight by inter- cepting a lady who was passing at a little dis- tance, as if his precipitancy had had reference to her. He bore her off on his arm, gesticulating with his eye-glasses and chatting with vivacity, as if he were oblivious to everything and everybody else in the world. All the while, however, he was chuckling to himself in high glee: ‘*Left him to perfect bliss! He ought to feel indebted to me for the rest of his natural life! Meanwhile, Bristow was muttering below his breath: **Confound his impudence! If I didn’t see a cool hundred thousand in this thing for my own pocket, I’d let him whistle!” Nevertheless, he looked after his friend (and confederate!) with an amused smile, which, when | he turned and—apparently for the first time— | caught sight of the Hon. Mrs. Benoni Spike, | changed into a nee recognition, as he pressed his way through the crowd to greet her. ‘““My dear Mrs. Spike!—and you, sir!—- | warinly grasping the hand of the helpless little | man whom the lady had in tow—*‘ this is indeed But why are you so late?” ‘*Great jam, isn’t it?’ said the Hon. Benoni, feeling that he must say something, yet con- scious that the senator paid no heed to him. “Bristow,” said the Hon. Mrs. Benoni, with the familiarity of a coquette, as coolly ignoring her husband as if he were not present, ‘‘ what did you and Teddy Littlejohn have your heads together about? Plottin’ mischief, 11 be bound! Naughty boys!” And she struck him on the arm with her fan, ““No! no! honor bright; you wrong us,” pro- tested that gentleman. ‘ Positively, we had a f-r pleasanter theme.” ‘* What theme?” ‘You know the adage: ‘ Talk of angels,’ etc.” “Oh, come, now! Yo don’t mean to make me believe that you were talkin’ about me?” ‘*Tndeed we were, and in a most complimen- tary vein, on the judge’s part. We want youto help us out on the Appropriation Bill, ‘““You know, Spike,”—turning to the Hon. Benoni— that you have some mole-eyed fellows in your House, who can never see beyond the dollar to be laid down, to the two dollars the State is to take up.” The Hon. Benoni, who was himself just one of those ‘‘ mole-eyed fellows” who had a keen eye looking to the economy of the State’s money, was about to make some ‘old fogy” reply, when the Hon. Mrs. Benoni, whose motto was * Look out for No. 1, and all those things will be added unto you,” interrupted him perempto- rily. My dear,” she whispered, behind her fan, with her eyes on a group at the other end of the room, ‘‘ go and take that muff away from Abi- gail! Don’t you see that he’s fillin’ the place of a better man? Take him away to drink, or smoke, or anything else—only take him away, and keep him away!” The Hon. Benoni saw his daughter—a slip of a irl, who looked as little like her mother as she Sid like him—blushing and casting shy glances Whisker ando, o bent devotedly low over her, as he whis- pered the-Lord-knows-what into her shrinking, yet willing ear. “That girl will be the death of me!” reflected the Hon. Mrs, Benoni, as she secretly bit her lips with vexation, though the society smile was not allowed to leave her face. ‘‘She will have that quill-driving vagabond tagging after her, when she knows that a feather’s weight may turn the balance with Lispinard de Morgan, He’s already beginning to look bored and inat- tentive.” as The Hon. Benoni yielded his wife to Senator Bristow with an embarrassed bow, and took himself dutifully off. Making his way to where his daughter was seated, he first saluted a young dude who stood listlessly beside her chair. : Lispinard de Morgan was a fair blonde crea- ture, with delicate white hands and pink cheeks, with a secant growth of pale yellow hair parted to a nicety in the middle, with faded blue eyes, white lashes, and scarcely visible brows, and with a tow-colored mustache which was at once his pet vanity and his sorest trial, since the most assiduous culture yielded so meager re- sults. 3 His clothes were made in London, and he had —_—— _—- See The Golden 1 Serpent. made several pilgrimages to that Mecca of feather-brained swells, to study their manners. He sported the British eye-glass, and affected | | the British flaccidity at all times when he was not practicing the British stare, | during the summer. There’s nothing like the Silver Riffle region this side of the Yosemite. We'll put the thing through with a rush,” Both knew that this was a bargain, quid pro _ quo, the committee to be formed first. ‘*D lighted to see ye, me deah suh!” he said, | blurring the words as if it required too great an effort to articulate distinctly. ‘Jolly jam, eb? Horrid boah!” He feebly extended his hand, letting it hang limp, while his eyes wandered languidly about the room, after the first passing glance at Benoni, The latter took the proffered hand as gingerly as if it were a fragile device of glass. standing his subjection to his wife, there was manhood enough in him to feel that this dear creature, with his perfume and his cosmetics, was a puppy of the tirst water, From him he turned to Hugh Cole, who, be- in the room. Honest Hugh! fun-loving Hugh! Hugh who, alas! was so sore an anxiety to managing mammas, who knew that he hadn’t, and proba- mA never would have, a rap to bless himself with! Some said it was his whiskers, which were so twinkle in his eyes; some averred that it was the tip of his tongue that did the mischief; it was even hinted that it might be the elegance of his figure and his divine dancing. If a young lady were consulted, as like as not she would evade the question. ‘Nonsense! He was a horrid man, like all the rest! For her part, she had never given him a second thought!” All of which must be taken with a large pinch ‘of salt! ‘*Mr. Spike, I'll leave it to you,” he burst forth, grasping the Hon. Benoni’s hand with a warm, hearty grip that did one’s soul good. | ing only a reporter on the Chronicle, had the | knack of always appearing the best dressed man | _ black and so glossy; some held that it was the | Notwith- | ‘* You're a man of discrimination, and not to be | swerved from principle by any little domestic bias.” ee Pa Abigail, with a shy laugh. ‘** Let us discuss the matter over a cigar,” sug- gested Benoni Spike, with an _ affectionate rlance at his daughter, while he held Hugh | ‘ole’s hand lingeringly. ‘* Besides I havea point for you.” A knowing twinkle came into Hugh Cole’s eyes. He had seen the Major-General send her staff officer across the field, and a’glance at Lispinard de Morgan showed that he saw through the little device. But he was wise in hisday and generation. He knew that one may sometimes gain the victory by yielding the field. ** You know that it isn’t the cigar, nor even the ‘ point ’—which is so dear to a reporter— that takes me from your side, Miss Spike,” he said, as he linked his arm through her father’s, And she was not coquette enough to say that she believed a cigar would tempt him away at any time. On the contrary, she looked after him with a faint blush, CHAPTER X, WIRE-PULLING. MEANWHILE Senator Bristow had been ex- paiatng on the merits of his appropriation bill. t was just the thing to put money into every- bodys ket, by showing Eastern capitalists that California was in the van of enterprise, and was the spot of all spots in which to cast their bread upon the waters, The Hon. Mrs. Benoni Spike took the matter quite coolly, considering his glowing enthusi- asm. It was, doubtless, worth considering. She would endeavor to interest Mr. Spike in it. Then she branched off into a general discus- sion of local and national politics. ‘* What is the old fox after, I wonder?’ was Senator Bristow’s secret speculation, as he chat- ted away, watching her narrowly. ‘‘ There's no use in beating about the bush, if she did but know it. Iam prepared to make any kind of terms.” ‘* But we have our hands full at home,” she said; presently. ‘*‘ These Chinese troubles are a disgrace to the State.” ** Ah! now for it!” reflected the subtle Bris- tow. “It’sa matter of heart and conscience with her, no doub‘!” Aloud he said: “Just what I was saying to Littlejohn! Something ought to be done, certainly.” : “T believe Mr. Spike is thinkin’ of callin’ | the attention of the House to the matter,” she went on, in a vague, off-hand way. . “T say!” cried Bristow, with enthusiasm. ‘“‘T have the very thing! What we want is a joint committee, with Spike as chairman. Put the thing through your House, my dear madam, and I’ll guarantee the concurrence of the Senate.” ‘Mr. Spike’s business engagements will pro- bably keep him closely occupied during the recess,” began Mrs, Spike. But the subtle Bristow knew that she was “ playing off.” *' Nonsense!” he cried. “It will be a mere formality. And besides, you want a little trip - In due time the Hon. Benoni Spike made his speech, The Major-General sat where she had the _claque she had provided directly under her eye; so the speaker was applauded to the echo. The House’s part of the committee—to con- sist of two trom that body and one from the Senate—was appointed, the proposer, accord- ing to precedent, being made chairman, and the resolutions sent ‘* across the passage.” In presenting them to that august counsel of state, Senator Bristow took occasion to compli- ment the Hon. Bencni Spike, and to congratu- late his constituents on having so eloquent a re- presentative. The Senate concurred with a languid vote from which no one took the trouble to dissent, and the president appointed Judge Littlejohn to represent that body on the committee. ‘*Good heavens!” cried the Judge fairly gas ing for breath, as he leaned over to his neigh- bor, J erry Bristow. ‘* What is the meaning of this?” ‘*Keep cool!” warned Bristow, who was bursting with laughter in bis sleeve. ‘* Sbe has determined to give eclat to the thing by asso- ciating you.” ‘‘Hang her committee! Ill not submit to be made a fool of in this way!” cried the irate Judge, getting very red in the face, ‘*Look out! She’s got her eye on you!” pleaded Bristow, cetching hold of the Judge to seep him in his seat, and prevent him from ris- ing and excusing himself from the service, which he meditated, ‘“ What! serve on a committee with that— that sheep at the head of it?’ fumed the un- lucky judge. ‘T fell you, man! she'll throw us over if you balk her!” urged Bristow. ‘She'll have ier committee with a man who will answer next | best to you; and we can whistle for our appro- decides with me!” interrupted Miss | priation!” ‘‘And I am to be cat’s-paw to pull your chestnuts out of the fire?” ‘*She’ll spike our guns for us if you don't, as sure as you're a living man!” ‘‘Blast her!” groaned the Judge, whose ‘* French” we take the liberty to euphemize, out of deference to the reader’s presumed prejudice against the more forcible forms of expression. Bristow set himself to the task of peovne that the situation was not half so bad as the Judge seemed to think, ‘ All the while, however, he was secretly chuck- ing: Five seen him, and gone one better! He'll leave me in the lurch, will he? They laugh best who laugh last!” 4 So far the Major-General had come off with flying colors. She had got her committee, with Judge Littlejohn from the Senate and Uncle Billy Hodgson in the House. Uncle Billy was a jolly old fellow, as round as a barrel and as rosy as a fall pippin. He was everybody's friend, and nobody’s enemy. He would drink with the ‘‘ boys” as long as there was a bottle with a whole neck, or a man steady enough on his pins to cant a barrel; yet, though he swore that his district had the worst whisky that ever came from a'‘still, it never pbased him, But when it came to the ladies—ah! then Uncle Billy was at his best! He loved them all —the dear creatures! Married or single, old or young, good-looking or homely—‘‘ A petti- coat’s a petticoat!” said Uncle Billy. As a politician, Uncle Billy was a power. He might have gone to the Senate; but he protest- ed that they were too fine for him in there. He might have gone to Congress; but he swore that it would break his heart to leave “‘ the boys.” “ Jest you leave me whar I’m happy!” was his unvarying reply to those who would have piqued his ambition, ‘‘ In the House hyer I kin take it rough an’ tumble with the best of ’em. I know my old stampin’-ground; an’ it ’u’d take too long to git the bang of new-fangled ways. Ye can’ arn an’ old dog new tricks, ye onder- stand! Meeting his colleague in the lobby, he shouted at the top of his voice: ‘“Waal, Senator! they’ve hitched us to the plow together at last, hain’t they? I reckon they’re allowin’ as me an’ Spike is todo the stiddy pullin’, with you to do the cavertin’— slingin’ the style, ye onderstand! Haw! Haw! Haw! Haw!” , And with a roar of laughter that drew every eye in their direction, he slapped Judge Little- john a sounding thwack on the shoulder; step- k so as to regard him with his head thrown back and his mouth wide open, his u roarious mirth aurupHly turned into a mut ntomime of Sonar Ue then thrust forward his, nd, crying heartily: me Butt ‘er thar fur the war!” The Judge tried to cover his annoyance with a nervous laugh, and submitted his hand to a shaking that nearly discolated his shoulder. He Eomicboo (¢ S i % = . = Pe. ye“