Ruggles of Red Gap

by Harry Leon Wilson

  CHAPTER THREE

  As I brisked out of bed the following morning at half-after six, Icould not but wonder rather nervously what the day might have in storefor me. I was obliged to admit that what I was in for looked a bitthick. As I opened my door I heard stealthy footsteps down the halland looked out in time to observe Cousin Egbert entering his own room.It was not this that startled me. He would have been abroad, I knew,for the ham and eggs that were forbidden him. Yet I stood aghast, forwith the lounge-suit of tweeds I had selected the day before he hadworn his top-hat! I am aware that these things I relate of him may notbe credited. I can only put them down in all sincerity.

  I hastened to him and removed the thing from his head. I fear it wasnot with the utmost deference, for I have my human moments.

  "It's not done, sir," I protested. He saw that I was offended.

  "All right, sir," he replied meekly. "But how was I to know? I thoughtit kind of set me off." He referred to it as a "stove-pipe" hat. Iknew then that I should find myself overlooking many things in him. Hewas not a person one could be stern with, and I even promised thatMrs. Effie should not be told of his offence, he promising in turnnever again to stir abroad without first submitting himself to me andagreeing also to wear sock-suspenders from that day forth. I saw,indeed, that diplomacy might work wonders with him.

  At breakfast in the drawing-room, during which Cousin Egbert earnedwarm praise from Mrs. Effie for his lack of appetite (he winkingviolently at me during this), I learned that I should be expected toaccompany him to a certain art gallery which corresponds to ourBritish Museum. I was a bit surprised, indeed, to learn that helargely spent his days there, and was accustomed to make notes of thevarious objects of interest.

  "I insisted," explained Mrs. Effie, "that he should absorb all theculture he could on his trip abroad, so I got him a notebook in whichhe puts down his impressions, and I must say he's done fine. Some ofhis remarks are so good that when he gets home I may have him read apaper before our Onwards and Upwards Club."

  Cousin Egbert wriggled modestly at this and said: "Shucks!" which Itook to be a term of deprecation.

  "You needn't pretend," said Mrs. Effie. "Just let Ruggles here lookover some of the notes you have made," and she handed me a notebook ofruled paper in which there was a deal of writing. I glanced, asbidden, at one or two of the paragraphs, and confess that I, too, wasamazed at the fluency and insight displayed along lines in which Ishould have thought the man entirely uninformed. "This choice workrepresents the first or formative period of the Master," began onenote, "but distinctly foreshadows that later method which made him atonce the hope and despair of his contemporaries. In the 'Portrait ofthe Artist by Himself' we have a canvas that well repays patientstudy, since here is displayed in its full flower that ruthlessrealism, happily attenuated by a superbly subtle delicacy of brushwork----" It was really quite amazing, and I perceived for the firsttime that Cousin Egbert must be "a diamond in the rough," as thewell-known saying has it. I felt, indeed, that I would be very pleasedto accompany him on one of his instructive strolls through thisgallery, for I have always been of a studious habit and anxious toimprove myself in the fine arts.

  "You see?" asked Mrs. Effie, when I had perused this fragment. "Andyet folks back home would tell you that he's just a----" Cousin Egberthere coughed alarmingly. "No matter," she continued. "He'll show themthat he's got something in him, mark my words."

  "Quite so, Madam," I said, "and I shall consider it a privilege to bepresent when he further prosecutes his art studies."

  "You may keep him out till dinner-time," she continued. "I'm shoppingthis morning, and in the afternoon I shall motor to have tea in theBoy with the Senator and Mr. Nevil Vane-Basingwell."

  Presently, then, my charge and I set out for what I hoped was to be apeaceful and instructive day among objects of art, though first I wasobliged to escort him to a hatter's and glover's to remedy some minordiscrepancies in his attire. He was very pleased when I permitted himto select his own hat. I was safe in this, as the shop was reallyartists in gentlemen's headwear, and carried only shapes, I observed,that were confined to exclusive firms so as to insure their being wornby the right set. As to gloves and a stick, he was again ratherpettish and had to be set right with some firmness. He declared he hadlost his stick and gloves of the previous day. I discovered later thathe had presented them to the lift attendant. But I soon convinced himthat he would not be let to appear without these adjuncts to agentleman's toilet.

  Then, having once more stood by at the barber's while he was shavedand his moustaches firmly waxed anew, I saw that he was fit at lastfor his art studies. The barber this day suggested curling themoustaches with a heated iron, but at this my charge fell into sounseemly a rage that I deemed it wise not to insist. He, indeed,bluntly threatened a nameless violence to the barber if he were somuch as touched with the iron, and revealed an altogether shockinggift for profanity, saying loudly: "I'll be--dashed--if you will!" Imean to say, I have written "dashed" for what he actually said. But atlength I had him once more quieted.

  "Now, sir," I said, when I had got him from the barber's shop, to thebarber's manifest relief: "I fancy we've time to do a few objects ofart before luncheon. I've the book here for your comments," I added.

  "Quite so," he replied, and led me at a rapid pace along the street inwhat I presumed was the direction of the art museum. At the end of afew blocks he paused at one of those open-air public houses thatdisgracefully line the streets of the French capital. I mean to saythat chairs and tables are set out upon the pavement in the mostbrazen manner and occupied by the populace, who there drink theirsilly beverages and idle away their time. After scanning the score orso of persons present, even at so early an hour as ten of the morning,he fell into one of the iron chairs at one of the iron tables andmotioned me to another at his side.

  When I had seated myself he said "Beer" to the waiter who appeared,and held up two fingers.

  "Now, look at here," he resumed to me, "this is a good place to doabout four pages of art, and then we can go out and have somerecreation somewhere." Seeing that I was puzzled, he added: "Thisway--you take that notebook and write in it out of this here otherbook till I think you've done enough, then I'll tell you to stop." Andwhile I was still bewildered, he drew from an inner pocket a small,well-thumbed volume which I took from him and saw to be entitled "OneHundred Masterpieces of the Louvre."

  "Open her about the middle," he directed, "and pick out something thatbegins good, like 'Here the true art-lover will stand entranced----'You got to write it, because I guess you can write faster than what Ican. I'll tell her I dictated to you. Get a hustle on now, so's we canget through. Write down about four pages of that stuff."

  Stunned I was for a moment at his audacity. Too plainly I saw throughhis deception. Each day, doubtless, he had come to a low place of thissort and copied into the notebook from the printed volume.

  "But, sir," I protested, "why not at least go to the gallery wherethese art objects are stored? Copy the notes there if that must bedone."

  "I don't know where the darned place is," he confessed. "I did startfor it the first day, but I run into a Punch and Judy show in a littlepark, and I just couldn't get away from it, it was so comical, withall the French kids hollering their heads off at it. Anyway, what'sthe use? I'd rather set here in front of this saloon, where everythingis nice."

  "It's very extraordinary, sir," I said, wondering if I oughtn't to cutoff to the hotel and warn Mrs. Effie so that she might do a heatedfoot to him, as he had once expressed it.

  "Well, I guess I've got my rights as well as anybody," he insisted."I'll be pushed just so far and no farther, not if I never get anymore cultured than a jack-rabbit. And now you better go on and writeor I'll be--dashed--if I'll ever wear another thing you tell me to."

  He had a most bitter and dangerous expression on his face, so Ithought best to humour him once more. Accordingly I set about writingin his notebook from the volume of criticism he had supp
lied.

  "Change a word now and then and skip around here and there," hesuggested as I wrote, "so's it'll sound more like me."

  "Quite so, sir," I said, and continued to transcribe from the printedpage. I was beginning the fifth page in the notebook, being in themidst of an enthusiastic description of the bit of statuary entitled"The Winged Victory," when I was startled by a wild yell in my ear.Cousin Egbert had leaped to his feet and now danced in the middle ofthe pavement, waving his stick and hat high in the air and shoutingincoherently. At once we attracted the most undesirable attention fromthe loungers about us, the waiters and the passers-by in the street,many of whom stopped at once to survey my charge with the liveliestinterest. It was then I saw that he had merely wished to attract theattention of some one passing in a cab. Half a block down theboulevard I saw a man likewise waving excitedly, standing erect in thecab to do so. The cab thereupon turned sharply, came back on theopposite side of the street, crossed over to us, and the occupantalighted.

  He was an American, as one might have fancied from his behaviour, atall, dark-skinned person, wearing a drooping moustache after theformer style of Cousin Egbert, supplemented by an imperial. He wore aloose-fitting suit of black which had evidently received no properattention from the day he purchased it. Under a folded collar he worea narrow cravat tied in a bowknot, and in the bosom of his white shirtthere sparkled a diamond such as might have come from a collection ofcrown-jewels. This much I had time to notice as he neared us. CousinEgbert had not ceased to shout, nor had he paid the least attention tomy tugs at his coat. When the cab's occupant descended to the pavementthey fell upon each other and did for some moments a wild dance suchas I imagine they might have seen the red Indians of western Americaperform. Most savagely they punched each other, calling out in themeantime: "Well, old horse!" and "Who'd ever expected to see you here,darn your old skin!" (Their actual phrases, be it remembered.)

  The crowd, I was glad to note, fell rapidly away, many of themshrugging their shoulders in a way the French have, and even thewaiters about us quickly lost interest in the pair, as if they werehardened to the sight of Americans greeting one another. The two werestill saying: "Well! well!" rather breathlessly, but had become a bitmore coherent.

  "Jeff Tuttle, you--dashed--old long-horn!" exclaimed Cousin Egbert.

  "Good old Sour-dough!" exploded the other. "Ain't this just like oldhome week!"

  "I thought mebbe you wouldn't know me with all my beadwork and my newwar-bonnet on," continued Cousin Egbert.

  "Know you, why, you knock-kneed old Siwash, I could pick out your hidein a tanyard!"

  "Well, well, well!" replied Cousin Egbert.

  "Well, well, well!" said the other, and again they dealt each othersmart blows.

  "Where'd you turn up from?" demanded Cousin Egbert.

  "Europe," said the other. "We been all over Europe and Italy--justcome from some place up over the divide where they talk Dutch, theMadam and the two girls and me, with the Reverend Timmins and his wiferiding line on us. Say, he's an out-and-out devil for cathedrals--it'sjust one church after another with him--Baptist, Methodist,Presbyterian, Lutheran, takes 'em all in--never overlooks a bet. He'sgot Addie and the girls out now. My gosh! it's solemn work! Me? Iducked out this morning."

  "How'd you do it?"

  "Told the little woman I had to have a tooth pulled--I was working itup on the train all day yesterday. Say, what you all rigged out likethat for, Sour-dough, and what you done to your face?"

  Cousin Egbert here turned to me in some embarrassment. "ColonelRuggles, shake hands with my friend Jeff Tuttle from the State ofWashington."

  "Pleased to meet you, Colonel," said the other before I could explainthat I had no military title whatever, never having, in fact, servedour King, even in the ranks. He shook my hand warmly.

  "Any friend of Sour-dough Floud's is all right with me," he assuredme. "What's the matter with having a drink?"

  "Say, listen here! I wouldn't have to be blinded and backed into it,"said Cousin Egbert, enigmatically, I thought, but as they sat down I,too, seated myself. Something within me had sounded a warning. As wellas I know it now I knew then in my inmost soul that I should summonMrs. Effie before matters went farther.

  "Beer is all I know how to say," suggested Cousin Egbert.

  "Leave that to me," said his new friend masterfully. "Where's the boy?Here, boy! Veesky-soda! That's French for high-ball," he explained."I've had to pick up a lot of their lingo."

  Cousin Egbert looked at him admiringly. "Good old Jeff!" he saidsimply. He glanced aside to me for a second with downright hostility,then turned back to his friend. "Something tells me, Jeff, that thisis going to be the first happy day I've had since I crossed the stateline. I've been pestered to death, Jeff--what with Mrs. Effie after meto improve myself so's I can be a social credit to her back in RedGap, and learn to wear clothes and go without my breakfast and attendart galleries. If you'd stand by me I'd throw her down good and hardright now, but you know what she is----"

  "I sure do," put in Mr. Tuttle so fervently that I knew he spoke thetruth. "That woman can bite through nails. But here's your drink,Sour-dough. Maybe it will cheer you up."

  Extraordinary! I mean to say, biting through nails.

  "Three rousing cheers!" exclaimed Cousin Egbert with more animationthan I had ever known him display.

  "Here's looking at you, Colonel," said his friend to me, whereupon Ipartook of the drink, not wishing to offend him. Decidedly he was notvogue. His hat was remarkable, being of a black felt with high crownand a wide and flopping brim. Across his waistcoat was a watch-chainof heavy links, with a weighty charm consisting of a sculptured goldhorse in full gallop. That sort of thing would never do with us.

  "Here, George," he immediately called to the waiter, for they hadquickly drained their glasses, "tell the bartender three more. Bygosh! but that's good, after the way I've been held down."

  "Me, too," said Cousin Egbert. "I didn't know how to say it inFrench."

  "The Reverend held me down," continued the Tuttle person. "'A glass ofnative wine,' he says, 'may perhaps be taken now and then withoutharm.' 'Well,' I says, 'leave us have ales, wines, liquors, andcigars,' I says, but not him. I'd get a thimbleful of elderberry wineor something about every second Friday, except when I'd duck out theside door of a church and find some caffy. Here, George, foomer,foomer--bring us some seegars, and then stay on that spot--I may wantyou."

  "Well, well!" said Cousin Egbert again, as if the meeting were stillincredible.

  "You old stinging-lizard!" responded the other affectionately. Thecigars were brought and I felt constrained to light one.

  "The State of Washington needn't ever get nervous over the prospect oflosing me," said the Tuttle person, biting off the end of his cigar.

  I gathered at once that the Americans have actually named one of ourcolonies "Washington" after the rebel George Washington, though onewould have thought that the indelicacy of this would have been onlytoo apparent. But, then, I recalled, as well, the city where theirso-called parliament assembles, Washington, D. C. Doubtless theinitials indicate that it was named in "honour" of another member ofthis notorious family. I could not but reflect how shocked our Kingwould be to learn of this effrontery.

  Cousin Egbert, who had been for some moments moving his lips withoutsound, here spoke:

  "I'm going to try it myself," he said. "Here, Charley, veesky-soda! Hemade me right off," he continued as the waiter disappeared. "Say,Jeff, I bet I could have learned a lot of this language if I'd hadsome one like you around."

  "Well, it took me some time to get the accent," replied the other witha modesty which I could detect was assumed. More acutely than ever wasI conscious of a psychic warning to separate these two, and I resolvedto act upon it with the utmost diplomacy. The third whiskey and sodawas served us.

  "Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert.

  "Here's looking at you!" said the other, and I drank. When my glass wasdrained I arose briskl
y and said:

  "I think we should be getting along now, sir, if Mr. Tuttle will begood enough to excuse us." They both stared at me.

  "Yes, sir--I fancy not, sir," said Cousin Egbert.

  "Stop your kidding, you fat rascal!" said the other.

  "Old Bill means all right," said Cousin Egbert, "so don't let himirritate you. Bill's our new hired man. He's all right--just let himtalk along."

  "Can't he talk setting down?" asked the other. "Does he have to standup every time he talks? Ain't that a good chair?" he demanded of me."Here, take mine," and to my great embarrassment he arose and offeredme his chair in such a manner that I felt moved to accept it.Thereupon he took the chair I had vacated and beamed upon us, "Nowthat we're all home-folks, together once more, I would suggest a bitof refreshment. Boy, veesky-soda!"

  "I fancy so, sir," said Cousin Egbert, dreamily contemplating me asthe order was served. I was conscious even then that he seemed to bestudying my attire with a critical eye, and indeed he remarked as ifto himself: "What a coat!" I was rather shocked by this, for my suitwas quite a decent lounge-suit that had become too snug for theHonourable George some two years before. Yet something warned me toignore the comment.

  "Three rousing cheers!" he said as the drink was served.

  "Here's looking at you!" said the Tuttle person.

  And again I drank with them, against my better judgment, wondering ifI might escape long enough to be put through to Mrs. Floud on thetelephone. Too plainly the situation was rapidly getting out of hand,and yet I hesitated. The Tuttle person under an exterior geniality wasrather abrupt. And, moreover, I now recalled having observed a personmuch like him in manner and attire in a certain cinema drama of thefar Wild West. He had been a constable or sheriff in the piece and hadsubdued a band of armed border ruffians with only a small pocketpistol. I thought it as well not to cross him.

  When they had drunk, each one again said, "Well! well!"

  "You old maverick!" said Cousin Egbert.

  "You--dashed--old horned toad!" responded his friend.

  "What's the matter with a little snack?"

  "Not a thing on earth. My appetite ain't been so powerful cravingsince Heck was a pup."

  These were their actual words, though it may not be believed. TheTuttle person now approached his cabman, who had waited beside thecurb.

  "Say, Frank," he began, "Ally restorong," and this he supplementedwith a crude but informing pantomime of one eating. Cousin Egbert wasalready seated in the cab, and I could do nothing but follow. "Allyrestorong!" commanded our new friend in a louder tone, and the cabmanwith an explosion of understanding drove rapidly off.

  "It's a genuine wonder to me how you learned the language so quick,"said Cousin Egbert.

  "It's all in the accent," protested the other. I occupied a narrowseat in the front. Facing me in the back seat, they lolled easily andsmoked their cigars. Down the thronged boulevard we proceeded at arapid pace and were passing presently before an immense gray edificewhich I recognized as the so-called Louvre from its illustration onthe cover of Cousin Egbert's art book. He himself regarded it withinterest, though I fancy he did not recognize it, for, waving hiscigar toward it, he announced to his friend:

  "The Public Library." His friend surveyed the building with every signof approval.

  "That Carnegie is a hot sport, all right," he declared warmly. "I'llbet that shack set him back some."

  "Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert, without point that I coulddetect.

  We now crossed their Thames over what would have been WestminsterBridge, I fancy, and were presently bowling through a sort ofBattersea part of the city. The streets grew quite narrow and theshops smaller, and I found myself wondering not without alarm whatsort of restaurant our abrupt friend had chosen.

  "Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert from time to time, withalmost childish delight.

  Debouching from a narrow street again into what the French term aboulevard, we halted before what was indeed a restaurant, for severaltables were laid on the pavement before the door, but I saw at oncethat it was anything but a nice place. "Au Rendezvous des CochersFideles," read the announcement on the flap of the awning, and trulyenough it was a low resort frequented by cabbies--"The meeting-placeof faithful coachmen." Along the curb half a score of horses wereeating from their bags, while their drivers lounged before the place,eating, drinking, and conversing excitedly in their grotesque jargon.

  We descended, in spite of the repellent aspect of the place, and ourdriver went to the foot of the line, where he fed his own horse.Cousin Egbert, already at one of the open-air tables, was rappingsmartly for a waiter.

  "What's the matter with having just one little one before grub?" askedthe Tuttle person as we joined him. He had a most curious fashion ofspeech. I mean to say, when he suggested anything whatsoever heinvariably wished to know what might be the matter with it.

  "Veesky-soda!" demanded Cousin Egbert of the serving person who nowappeared, "and ask your driver to have one," he then urged his friend.

  The latter hereupon addressed the cabman who had now come up.

  "Vooley-voos take something!" he demanded, and the cabman appeared toaccept.

  "Vooley-voos your friends take something, too?" he demanded further,with a gesture that embraced all the cabmen present, and these, too,appeared to accept with the utmost cordiality.

  "You're a wonder, Jeff," said Cousin Egbert. "You talk it like aprofessor."

  "It come natural to me," said the fellow, "and it's a good thing, too.If you know a little French you can go all over Europe without a bitof trouble."

  Inside the place was all activity, for many cabmen were now acceptingthe proffered hospitality, and calling "votry santy!" to their host,who seemed much pleased. Then to my amazement Cousin Egbert insistedthat our cabman should sit at table with us. I trust I have as littlefoolish pride as most people, but this did seem like crowding it on abit thick. In fact, it looked rather dicky. I was glad to rememberthat we were in what seemed to be the foreign quarter of the town,where it was probable that no one would recognize us. The drink came,though our cabman refused the whiskey and secured a bottle of nativewine.

  "Three rousing cheers!" said Cousin Egbert as we drank once more, andadded as an afterthought, "What a beautiful world we live in!"

  "Vooley-voos make-um bring dinner!" said the Tuttle person to thecabman, who thereupon spoke at length in his native tongue to thewaiter. By this means we secured a soup that was not half bad andpresently a stew of mutton which Cousin Egbert declared was "somegoo." To my astonishment I ate heartily, even in such raffishsurroundings. In fact, I found myself pigging it with the rest ofthem. With coffee, cigars were brought from the tobacconist'snext-door, each cabman present accepting one. Our own man was plainlyfeeling a vast pride in his party, and now circulated among hisfellows with an account of our merits.

  "This is what I call life," said the Tuttle person, leaning back inhis chair.

  "I'm coming right back here every day," declared Cousin Egberthappily.

  "What's the matter with a little drive to see some well-known objectsof interest?" inquired his friend.

  "Not art galleries," insisted Cousin Egbert.

  "And not churches," said his friend. "Every day's been Sunday with melong enough."

  "And not clothing stores," said Cousin Egbert firmly. "The Colonelhere is awful fussy about my clothes," he added.

  "Is, heh?" inquired his friend. "How do you like this hat of mine?" heasked, turning to me. It was that sudden I nearly fluffed the catch,but recovered myself in time.

  "I should consider it a hat of sound wearing properties, sir," I said.

  He took it off, examined it carefully, and replaced it.

  "So far, so good," he said gravely. "But why be fussy about clotheswhen God has given you only one life to live?"

  "Don't argue about religion," warned Cousin Egbert.

  "I always like to see people well dressed, sir," I said, "because itmakes s
uch a difference in their appearance."

  He slapped his thigh fiercely. "My gosh! that's true. He's got youthere, Sour-dough. I never thought of that."

  "He makes me wear these chest-protectors on my ankles," said CousinEgbert bitterly, extending one foot.

  "What's the matter of taking a little drive to see some well-knownobjects of interest?" said his friend.

  "Not art galleries," said Cousin Egbert firmly.

  "We said that before--and not churches."

  "And not gents' furnishing goods."

  "You said that before."

  "Well, you said not churches before."

  "Well, what's the matter with taking a little drive?"

  "Not art galleries," insisted Cousin Egbert. The thing seemedinterminable. I mean to say, they went about the circle as before. Itlooked to me as if they were having a bit of a spree.

  "We'll have one last drink," said the Tuttle person.

  "No," said Cousin Egbert firmly, "not another drop. Don't you see thecondition poor Bill here is in?" To my amazement he was referring tome. Candidly, he was attempting to convey the impression that I hadtaken a drop too much. The other regarded me intently.

  "Pickled," he said.

  "Always affects him that way," said Cousin Egbert. "He's got no headfor it."

  "Beg pardon, sir," I said, wishing to explain, but this I was not letto do.

  "Don't start anything like that here," broke in the Tuttle person,"the police wouldn't stand for it. Just keep quiet and remember you'reamong friends."

  "Yes, sir; quite so, sir," said I, being somewhat puzzled by thesestrange words. "I was merely----"

  "Look out, Jeff," warned Cousin Egbert, interrupting me; "he's a devilwhen he starts."

  "Have you got a knife?" demanded the other suddenly.

  "I fancy so, sir," I answered, and produced from my waistcoat pocketthe small metal-handled affair I have long carried. This he quicklyseized from me.

  "You can keep your gun," he remarked, "but you can't be trusted withthis in your condition. I ain't afraid of a gun, but I am afraid of aknife. You could have backed me off the board any time with thisknife."

  "Didn't I tell you?" asked Cousin Egbert.

  "Beg pardon, sir," I began, for this was drawing it quite too thick,but again he interrupted me.

  "We'd better get him away from this place right off," he said.

  "A drive in the fresh air might fix him," suggested Cousin Egbert."He's as good a scout as you want to know when he's himself."Hereupon, calling our waiting cabman, they both, to my embarrassment,assisted me to the vehicle.

  "Ally caffy!" directed the Tuttle person, and we were driven off, tothe raised hats of the remaining cabmen, through many long, quietstreets.

  "I wouldn't have had this happen for anything," said Cousin Egbert,indicating me.

  "Lucky I got that knife away from him," said the other.

  To this I thought it best to remain silent, it being plain that themen were both well along, so to say.

  The cab now approached an open square from which issued discordantblasts of music. One glance showed it to be a street fair. I prayedthat we might pass it, but my companions hailed it with delight and atonce halted the cabby.

  "Ally caffy on the corner," directed the Tuttle person, and once morewe were seated at an iron table with whiskey and soda ordered. Beforeus was the street fair in all its silly activity. There were manytinselled booths at which games of chance or marksmanship were played,or at which articles of ornament or household decoration weredisplayed for sale, and about these were throngs of low-class Frenchidling away their afternoon in that mad pursuit of pleasure which isso characteristic of this race. In the centre of the place was acarrousel from which came the blare of a steam orchestrion playing the"Marseillaise," one of their popular songs. From where I sat I couldperceive the circle of gaudily painted beasts that revolved about thismusical atrocity. A fashion of horses seemed to predominate, but therewas also an ostrich (a bearded Frenchman being astride this bird forthe moment), a zebra, a lion, and a gaudily emblazoned giraffe. Ishuddered as I thought of the evil possibilities that might besuggested to my two companions by this affair. For the moment I waspleased to note that they had forgotten my supposed indisposition, yetanother equally absurd complication ensued when the drink arrived.

  "Say, don't your friend ever loosen up?" asked the Tuttle person ofCousin Egbert.

  "Tighter than Dick's hatband," replied the latter.

  "And then some! He ain't bought once. Say, Bo," he continued to me asI was striving to divine the drift of these comments, "have I got myfingers crossed or not?"

  Seeing that he held one hand behind him I thought to humour him bysaying, "I fancy so, sir."

  "He means 'yes,'" said Cousin Egbert.

  The other held his hand before me with the first two fingers spreadwide apart. "You lost," he said. "How's that, Sour-dough? We stuck himthe first rattle out of the box."

  "Good work," said Cousin Egbert. "You're stuck for this round," headded to me. "Three rousing cheers!"

  I readily perceived that they meant me to pay the score, which Iaccordingly did, though I at once suspected the fairness of the game.I mean to say, if my opponent had been a trickster he could easilyhave rearranged his fingers to defeat me before displaying them. I donot say it was done in this instance. I am merely pointing out that itleft open a way to trickery. I mean to say, one would wish to beassured of his opponent's social standing before playing this gameextensively.

  No sooner had we finished the drink than the Tuttle person said to me:

  "I'll give you one chance to get even. I'll guess your fingers thistime." Accordingly I put one hand behind me and firmly crossed thefingers, fancying that he would guess them to be uncrossed. Instead ofwhich he called out "Crossed," and I was obliged to show them in thatwise, though, as before pointed out, I could easily have defeated himby uncrossing them before revealing my hand. I mean to say, it is noton the face of it a game one would care to play with casualacquaintances, and I questioned even then in my own mind itsprevalence in the States. (As a matter of fact, I may say that in mylater life in the States I could find no trace of it, and now believeit to have been a pure invention on the part of the Tuttle person. Imean to say, I later became convinced that it was, properly speaking,not a game at all.)

  Again they were hugely delighted at my loss and rapped smartly on thetable for more drink, and now to my embarrassment I discovered that Ilacked the money to pay for this "round" as they would call it.

  "Beg pardon, sir," said I discreetly to Cousin Egbert, "but if youcould let me have a bit of change, a half-crown or so----" To mysurprise he regarded me coldly and shook his head emphatically in thenegative.

  "Not me," he said; "I've been had too often. You're a good smoothtalker and you may be all right, but I can't take a chance at my timeof life."

  "What's he want now?" asked the other.

  "The old story," said Cousin Egbert: "come off and left his purse onthe hatrack or out in the woodshed some place." This was the height ofabsurdity, for I had said nothing of the sort.

  "I was looking for something like that," said the other "I never makea mistake in faces. You got a watch there haven't you?"

  "Yes, sir," I said, and laid on the table my silver Englishhalf-hunter with Albert. They both fell to examining this withinterest, and presently the Tuttle person spoke up excitedly:

  "Well, darn my skin if he ain't got a genuine double Gazottz. How didyou come by this, my man?" he demanded sharply.

  "It came from my brother-in-law, sir," I explained, "six years ago assecurity for a trifling loan."

  "He sounds honest enough," said the Tuttle person to Cousin Egbert.

  "Yes, but maybe it ain't a regular double Gazottz," said the latter."The market is flooded with imitations."

  "No, sir, I can't be fooled on them boys," insisted the other."Blindfold me and I could pick a double Gazottz out every time. I'mgoing to take a chance on it, anyway." Wh
ereupon the fellow pocketedmy watch and from his wallet passed me a note of the so-called Frenchmoney which I was astounded to observe was for the equivalent of fourpounds, or one hundred francs, as the French will have it. "I'lladvance that much on it," he said, "but don't ask for another centuntil I've had it thoroughly gone over by a plumber. It may have mothsin it."

  It seemed to me that the chap was quite off his head, for the watchwas worth not more than ten shillings at the most, though what adouble Gazottz might be I could not guess. However, I saw it would bewise to appear to accept the loan, and tendered the note in payment ofthe score.

  When I had secured the change I sought to intimate that we should beleaving. I thought even the street fair would be better for us thanthis rapid consumption of stimulants.

  "I bet he'd go without buying," said Cousin Egbert.

  "No, he wouldn't," said the other. "He knows what's customary in acase like this. He's just a little embarrassed. Wait and see if Iain't right." At which they both sat and stared at me in silence forsome moments until at last I ordered more drink, as I saw was expectedof me.

  "He wants the cabman to have one with him," said Cousin Egbert,whereat the other not only beckoned our cabby to join us, but calledto two labourers who were passing, and also induced the waiter whoserved us to join in the "round."

  "He seems to have a lot of tough friends," said Cousin Egbert as weall drank, though he well knew I had extended none of theseinvitations.

  "Acts like a drunken sailor soon as he gets a little money," said theother.

  "Three rousing cheers!" replied Cousin Egbert, and to my great chagrinhe leaped to his feet, seized one of the navvies about the waist, andthere on the public pavement did a crude dance with him to the strainof the "Marseillaise" from the steam orchestrion. Not only this, butwhen the music had ceased he traded hats with the navvy, securing amost shocking affair in place of the new one, and as they parted hepresented the fellow with the gloves and stick I had purchased for himthat very morning. As I stared aghast at this _faux pas_ the navvy,with his new hat at an angle and twirling the stick, proceeded down thestreet with mincing steps and exaggerated airs of gentility, to theapplause of the entire crowd, including Cousin Egbert.

  "This ain't quite the hat I want," he said as he returned to us, "butthe day is young. I'll have other chances," and with the help of thepublic-house window as a mirror he adjusted the unmentionable thingwith affectations of great nicety.

  "He always was a dressy old scoundrel," remarked the Tuttle person.And then, as the music came to us once more, he continued: "Say,Sour-dough, let's go over to the rodeo--they got some likely lookingbroncs over there."

  Arm in arm, accordingly, they crossed the street and proceeded to thecarrousel, first warning the cabby and myself to stay by them lestharm should come to us. What now ensued was perhaps their mostremarkable behaviour at the day. At the time I could account for itonly by the liquor they had consumed, but later experience in theStates convinced me that they were at times consciously spoofing. Imean to say, it was quite too absurd--their seriously believing whatthey seemed to believe.

  The carrousel being at rest when we approached, they gravely examinedeach one of the painted wooden effigies, looking into such of themouths as were open, and cautiously feeling the forelegs of thedifferent mounts, keeping up an elaborate pretence the while that thebeasts were real and that they were in danger of being kicked. Oneabsurdly painted horse they agreed would be the most difficult toride. Examining his mouth, they disputed as to his age, and called thecabby to have his opinion of the thing's fetlocks, warning each otherto beware of his rearing. The cabby, who was doubtless alsointoxicated, made an equal pretence of the beast's realness, andindulged, I gathered, in various criticisms of its legs at greatlength.

  "I think he's right," remarked the Tuttle person when the cabby hadfinished. "It's a bad case of splints. The leg would be blistered if Ihad him."

  "I wouldn't give him corral room," said Cousin Egbert. "He's a badactor. Look at his eye! Whoa! there--you would, would you!" Here hemade a pretence that the beast had seized him by the shoulder. "He's aman-eater! What did I tell you? Keep him away!"

  "I'll take that out of him," said the Tuttle person. "I'll show himwho's his master."

  "You ain't never going to try to ride him, Jeff? Think of the wife andlittle ones!"

  "You know me, Sour-dough. No horse never stepped out from under meyet. I'll not only ride him, but I'll put a silver dollar in eachstirrup and give you a thousand for each one I lose and a thousand forevery time I touch leather."

  Cousin Egbert here began to plead tearfully:

  "Don't do it, Jeff--come on around here. There's a big five-year-oldroan around here that will be safe as a church for you. Let that pintoalone. They ought to be arrested for having him here."

  But the other seemed obdurate.

  "Start her up, Professor, when I give the word!" he called to theproprietor, and handed him one of the French banknotes. "Play it allout!" he directed, as this person gasped with amazement.

  Cousin Egbert then proceeded to the head of the beast.

  "You'll have to blind him," he said.

  "Sure!" replied the other, and with loud and profane cries to theanimal they bound a handkerchief about his eyes.

  "I can tell he's going to be a twister," warned Cousin Egbert. "Ibetter ear him," and to my increased amazement he took one of thebeast's leather ears between his teeth and held it tightly. Then withsoothing words to the supposedly dangerous animal, the Tuttle personmounted him.

  "Let him go!" he called to Cousin Egbert, who released the ear frombetween his teeth.

  "Wait!" called the latter. "We're all going with you," whereupon heinsisted that the cabby and I should enter a sort of swan-boatdirectly in the rear. I felt a silly fool, but I saw there was nothingelse to be done. Cousin Egbert himself mounted a horse he had called a"blue roan," waved his hand to the proprietor, who switched a lever,the "Marseillaise" blared forth, and the platform began to revolve. Aswe moved, the Tuttle person whisked the handkerchief from off the eyesof his mount and with loud, shrill cries began to beat the sides ofits head with his soft hat, bobbing about in his saddle, moreover, asif the beast were most unruly and like to dismount him. Cousin Egbertjoined in the yelling, I am sorry to say, and lashed his beast as ifhe would overtake his companion. The cabman also became excited andshouted his utmost, apparently in the way of encouragement. Strange tosay, I presume on account of the motion, I felt the thing was becominginfectious and was absurdly moved to join in the shouts, restrainingmyself with difficulty. I could distinctly imagine we were in thehunting field and riding the tails off the hounds, as one might say.

  In view of what was later most unjustly alleged of me, I think it aswell to record now that, though I had partaken freely of thestimulants since our meeting with the Tuttle person, I was notintoxicated, nor until this moment had I felt even the slightestelation. Now, however, I did begin to feel conscious of a mildexhilaration, and to be aware that I was viewing the behaviour of mycompanions with a sort of superior but amused tolerance. I can accountfor this only by supposing that the swift revolutions of the carrouselhad in some occult manner intensified or consummated, as one mightsay, the effect of my previous potations. I mean to say, the continuedswirling about gave me a frothy feeling that was not unpleasant.

  As the contrivance came to rest, Cousin Egbert ran to the Tuttleperson, who had dismounted, and warmly shook his hand, as did thecabby.

  "I certainly thought he had you there once, Jeff," said Cousin Egbert."Of all the twisters I ever saw, that outlaw is the worst."

  "Wanted to roll me," said the other, "but I learned him something."

  It may not be credited, but at this moment I found myself examiningthe beast and saying: "He's crocked himself up, sir--he's gone tenderat the heel." I knew perfectly, it must be understood, that this wassilly, and yet I further added, "I fancy he's picked up a stone." Imean to say, it was the most utter rot, pretending serio
usly that way.

  "You come away," said Cousin Egbert. "Next thing you'll be thinkingyou can ride him yourself." I did in truth experience an earnestcraving for more of the revolutions and said as much, adding that Irode at twelve stone.

  "Let him break his neck if he wants to," urged the Tuttle person.

  "It wouldn't be right," replied Cousin Egbert, "not in his condition.Let's see if we can't find something gentle for him. Not the roan--Ifound she ain't bridle-wise. How about that pheasant?"

  "It's an ostrich, sir," I corrected him, as indeed it most distinctlywas, though at my words they both indulged in loud laughter, affectingto consider that I had misnamed the creature.

  "Ostrich!" they shouted. "Poor old Bill--he thinks it's an ostrich!"

  "Quite so, sir," I said, pleasantly but firmly, determining not to behoaxed again.

  "Don't drivel that way," said the Tuttle person.

  "Leave it to the driver, Jeff--maybe he'll believe _him_," saidCousin Egbert almost sadly, whereupon the other addressed the cabby:

  "Hey, Frank," he began, and continued with some French words, amongwhich I caught "vooley-vous, ally caffy, foomer"; and something thatsounded much like "kafoozleum," at which the cabby spoke at somelength in his native language concerning the ostrich. When he haddone, the Tuttle person turned to me with a superior frown.

  "Now I guess you're satisfied," he remarked. "You heard what Franksaid--it's an Arabian muffin bird." Of course I was perfectly certainthat the chap had said nothing of the sort, but I resolved to enterinto the spirit of the thing, so I merely said: "Yes, sir; my error;it was only at first glance that it seemed to be an ostrich."

  "Come along," said Cousin Egbert. "I won't let him ride anything hecan't guess the name of. It wouldn't be right to his folks."

  "Well, what's that, then?" demanded the other, pointing full at thegiraffe.

  "It's a bally ant-eater, sir," I replied, divining that I should bewise not to seem too obvious in naming the beast.

  "Well, well, so it is!" exclaimed the Tuttle person delightedly.

  "He's got the eye with him this time," said Cousin Egbert admiringly.

  "He's sure a wonder," said the other. "That thing had me fooled; Ithought at first it was a Russian mouse hound."

  "Well, let him ride it, then," said Cousin Egbert, and I waspractically lifted into the saddle by the pair of them.

  "One moment," said Cousin Egbert. "Can't you see the poor thing has asore throat? Wait till I fix him." And forthwith he removed his spatsand in another moment had buckled them securely high about the throatof the giraffe. It will be seen that I was not myself when I say thatthis performance did not shock me as it should have done, though Iwas, of course, less entertained by it than were the remainder of ourparty and a circle of the French lower classes that had formed aboutus.

  "Give him his head! Let's see what time you can make!" shouted CousinEgbert as the affair began once more to revolve. I saw that both mycompanions held opened watches in their hands.

  It here becomes difficult for me to be lucid about the succeedingevents of the day. I was conscious of a mounting exhilaration as mybeast swept me around the circle, and of a marked impatience with manyof the proprieties of behaviour that ordinarily with me matterenormously. I swung my cap and joyously urged my strange steed to afaster pace, being conscious of loud applause each time I passed mycompanions. For certain lapses of memory thereafter I must whollyblame this insidious motion.

  For example, though I believed myself to be still mounted and whirling(indeed I was strongly aware of the motion), I found myself seatedagain at the corner public house and rapping smartly for drink, whichI paid for. I was feeling remarkably fit, and suffered only a mildwonder that I should have left the carrousel without observing it.Having drained my glass, I then remember asking Cousin Egbert if hewould consent to change hats with the cabby, which he willingly did.It was a top-hat of some strange, hard material brightly glazed.Although many unjust things were said of me later, this is the soleincident of the day which causes me to admit that I might have taken aglass too much, especially as I undoubtedly praised Cousin Egbert'sappearance when the exchange had been made, and was heard to wish thatwe might all have hats so smart.

  It was directly after this that young Mr. Elmer, the art student,invited us to his studio, though I had not before remarked hispresence, and cannot recall now where we met him. The occurrence inthe studio, however, was entirely natural. I wished to please myfriends and made no demur whatever when asked to don the things--atrouserish affair, of sheep's wool, which they called "chapps," aflannel shirt of blue (they knotted a scarlet handkerchief around myneck), and a wide-brimmed white hat with four indentations in thecrown, such as one may see worn in the cinema dramas by cow-personsand other western-coast desperadoes. When they had strapped around mywaist a large pistol in a leather jacket, I considered the effectpicturesque in the extreme, and my friends were loud in their approvalof it.

  I repeat, it was an occasion when it would have been boorish in me torefuse to meet them halfway. I even told them an excellent wheeze Ihad long known, which I thought they might not, have heard. It runs:"Why is Charing Cross? Because the Strand runs into it." I mean tosay, this is comic providing one enters wholly into the spirit of it,as there is required a certain nimbleness of mind to get the point, asone might say. In the present instance some needed element waslacking, for they actually drew aloof from me and conversed in lowtones among themselves, pointedly ignoring me. I repeated the thing tomake sure they should see it, whereat I heard Cousin Egbert say."Better not irritate him--he'll get mad if we don't laugh," afterwhich they burst into laughter so extravagant that I knew it to befeigned. Hereupon, feeling quite drowsy, I resolved to have fortywinks, and with due apologies reclined upon the couch, where I driftedinto a refreshing slumber.

  Later I inferred that I must have slept for some hours. I was awakenedby a light flashed in my eyes, and beheld Cousin Egbert and the Tuttleperson, the latter wishing to know how late I expected to keep themup. I was on my feet at once with apologies, but they instantlyhustled me to the door, down a flight of steps, through a court-yard,and into the waiting cab. It was then I noticed that I was wearing thecurious hat of the American Far-West, but when I would have gone backto leave it, and secure my own, they protested vehemently, wishing toknow if I had not given them trouble enough that day.

  In the cab I was still somewhat drowsy, but gathered that mycompanions had left me, to dine and attend a public dance-hall withthe cubbish art student. They had not seemed to need sleep and werestill wakeful, for they sang from time to time, and Cousin Egbertlifted the cabby's hat, which he still wore, bowing to imaginarythrongs along the street who were supposed to be applauding him. I atonce became conscience-stricken at the thought of Mrs. Effie'sfeelings when she should discover him to be in this state, and was onthe point of suggesting that he seek another apartment for the night,when the cab pulled up in front of our own hotel.

  Though I protest that I was now entirely recovered from any effectthat the alcohol might have had upon me, it was not until this momentthat I most horribly discovered myself to be in the full cow-person'sregalia I had donned in the studio in a spirit of pure frolic. I meanto say, I had never intended to wear the things beyond the door andcould not have been hired to do so. What was my amazement then to findmy companions laboriously lifting me from the cab in this impossibletenue. I objected vehemently, but little good it did me.

  "Get a policeman if he starts any of that rough stuff," said theTuttle person, and in sheer horror of a scandal I subsided, while oneon either side they hustled me through the hotel lounge--happilyvacant of every one but a tariff manager--and into the lift. And now Iperceived that they were once more pretending to themselves that I wasin a bad way from drink, though I could not at once suspect the fulliniquity of their design.

  As we reached our own floor, one of them still seeming to support meon either side, they began loud and excited admonitions to me to bestill,
to come along as quickly as possible, to stop singing, and notto shoot. I mean to say, I was entirely quiet, I was coming along asquickly as they would let me, I had not sung, and did not wish toshoot, yet they persisted in making this loud ado over my supposedintoxication, aimlessly as I thought, until the door of the Flouddrawing-room opened and Mrs. Effie appeared in the hallway. At thisthey redoubled their absurd violence with me, and by dint of trippingme they actually made it appear that I was scarce able to walk, nor doI imagine that the costume I wore was any testimonial to my sobriety.

  "Now we got him safe," panted Cousin Egbert, pushing open the door ofmy room.

  "Get his gun, first!" warned the Tuttle person, and this being takenfrom me, I was unceremoniously shoved inside.

  "What does all this mean?" demanded Mrs. Effie, coming rapidly downthe hall. "Where have you been till this time of night? I bet it'syour fault, Jeff Tuttle--you've been getting him going."

  They were both voluble with denials of this, and though I could scarcebelieve my ears, they proceeded to tell a story that laid the blameentirely on me.

  "No, ma'am, Mis' Effie," began the Tuttle person. "It ain't that wayat all. You wrong me if ever a man was wronged."

  "You just seen what state he was in, didn't you?" asked Cousin Egbertin tones of deep injury. "Do you want to take another look at him?"and he made as if to push the door farther open upon me.

  "Don't do it--don't get him started again!" warned the Tuttle person."I've had trouble enough with that man to-day."

  "I seen it coming this morning," said Cousin Egbert, "when we was atthe art gallery. He had a kind of wild look in his eyes, and I saysright then: 'There's a man ought to be watched,' and, well, one thingled to another--look at this hat he made me wear--nothing wouldsatisfy him but I should trade hats with some cab-driver----"

  "I was coming along from looking at two or three good churches," brokein the Tuttle person, "when I seen Sour-dough here having a kind of amix-up with this man because of him insisting he must ride a kangarooor something on a merry-go-round, and wanting Sour-dough to ride anostrich with him, and then when we got him quieted down a little,nothing would do him but he's got to be a cowboy--you seen hisclothes, didn't you? And of course I wanted to get back to Addie andthe girls, but I seen Sour-dough here was in trouble, so I stayedright by him, and between us we got the maniac here."

  "He's one of them should never touch liquor," said Cousin Egbert; "itmakes a demon of him."

  "I got his knife away from him early in the game," said the other.

  "I don't suppose I got to wear this cabman's hat just because he toldme to, have I?" demanded Cousin Egbert.

  "And here I'd been looking forward to a quiet day seeing somewell-known objects of interest," came from the other, "after I got mytooth pulled, that is."

  "And me with a tooth, too, that nearly drove me out of my mind," saidCousin Egbert suddenly.

  I could not see Mrs. Effie, but she had evidently listened to thisoutrageous tale with more or less belief, though not wholly credulous.

  "You men have both been drinking yourselves," she said shrewdly.

  "We had to take a little; he made us," declared the Tuttle personbrazenly.

  "He got so he insisted on our taking something every time he did,"added Cousin Egbert. "And, anyway, I didn't care so much, with thistooth of mine aching like it does."

  "You come right out with me and around to that dentist I went to thismorning," said the Tuttle person. "You'll suffer all night if youdon't."

  "Maybe I'd better," said Cousin Egbert, "though I hate to leave thiscomfortable hotel and go out into the night air again."

  "I'll have the right of this in the morning," said Mrs. Effie. "Don'tthink it's going to stop here!" At this my door was pulled to and thekey turned in the lock.

  Frankly I am aware that what I have put down above is incredible, yetnot a single detail have I distorted. With a quite devilish ingenuitythey had fastened upon some true bits: I had suggested the change ofhats with the cabby, I had wished to ride the giraffe, and the Tuttleperson had secured my knife, but how monstrously untrue of me was theimpression conveyed by these isolated facts. I could believe now quiteall the tales I had ever heard of the queerness of Americans.Queerness, indeed! I went to bed resolving to let the morrow take careof itself.

  Again I was awakened by a light flashing in my eyes, and became awarethat Cousin Egbert stood in the middle of the room. He was readingfrom his notebook of art criticisms, with something of an oratoricaleffect. Through the half-drawn curtains I could see that dawn wasbreaking. Cousin Egbert was no longer wearing the cabby's hat. It wasnow the flat cap of the Paris constable or policeman.