by W. W. Jacobs
IV
AN ACCIDENT--DINNER
Colonel Manysnifters's story was very thirst-provoking, and PresidentMadison, our grinning drink-mixer, had a busy half-hour of it. It wasnow about seven o'clock and we were again overtaken by the storm, whichhurled itself upon us, fairly rocking the car in its violence. Thetrain, which had been proceeding slowly and jerkily, now came to a fullstop. An avalanche of snow, earth, and loose stones had fallen at theend of a deep cut. Had we been going at any speed an awful catastrophewould have resulted. As it was we were barely moving when we ran intothe obstruction. It would be hours before the track could be cleared,and there was no relief in sight. Fortunately, we were well provisioned,and could stand a siege of a day or so in any event. The brakeman setout on his long, hard journey to the nearest telegraph station, swinginghis lantern, and swearing picturesquely. Every precaution was taken toguard the train against further accident. Our party accepted theinevitable philosophically. Dinner was announced, and amid the goodthings provided by our chef we soon forgot our mishap.
President Madison.]
"Now, gentlemen," said Colonel Manysnifters genially, between the soupand fish, "let's cut out golf, religion, baseball, and politics, and getdown to serious subjects. Senator, what is the best poker hand you everheld?"
Senator Wendell, thus addressed, said, with a far-away look in his eyes,"Let me see, let me see. Oh, I remember now; it happened twice--threetimes--or was it three times? Twice I will swear to."
"How's that?"
"I say it happened twice; I am positive of it--and before the draw,too."
"Who was dealing?" asked the Colonel eagerly.
"Poker stories barred," said Senator Baker sternly. "Remember,gentlemen, that this is a non-partisan gathering; not only that, butsome of us know absolutely nothing about the game. And yet, and yet,"said he thoughtfully, as if to himself, "it _is_ a fascinating subject.Why, on one occasion,--I will never forget it,--being right under theguns, I passed without looking at my hand. The man next to me opened thepot, and all the rest stayed. I picked up my cards carelessly, andimagine my delight when I found that I had----"
"Senator, Senator," said Van Rensselaer reproachfully, "I am surprised.I didn't think you would go back on the sentiments you so warmlyespoused a few moments ago. Let us avoid so agitating a topic.Personally," continued he, slowly and dreamily, as if going into atrance, "I have no objection to the game. I have played it myself,though I do not pose as an expert. Coming over on the steamer lastsummer--'twas the night before we landed--the game was steep, painfullysteep, and nothing friendly about it, with the lid off finally. I wasabout two thousand to the bad,--it was the consolation round, endingwith and up to me,--my deal, and the fellows counting and stacking theirchips preparatory to cashing in. I doled the papes with deliberation,and a saddened soul, and skinned my hand carefully. They werehearts--all but one. A seven, four, six, five and a trey of clubs.That's the way they came to me. A nice little straight, but apparentlynot nice enough. All the fellows stayed, and there was considerablehoisting before the draw. Then the man next to me took one card; theEnglishman with the monocle, two; General Thomas, one; the fat man fromCincinnati, three (to his aces), and Doctor McNab stood pat; and thendiscarding the trey of clubs--foolhardy, very foolhardy, but I did it--Idealt myself one--the eight of hearts! My, how good I felt! The battlewas on! Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, until one by onethe players dropped out, leaving the Doctor and myself to settle it.Doctor McNab saw my three thousand and raised me five.
"Five better," said I.
"Back at you," said he; the others in the meanwhile keeping tab in theirnotebooks.
"Once again," said I.
"And again," said he.
"That was about all I could stand, and I called him. With a leer oftriumph he threw his hand on the table, face-up, displaying----"
"Stop him, stop him!" shouted Mr. Ridley, rising excitedly. "Don't lethim take the money! If I'd a knowed you at the time, brother, it neverwould a happened! I'd a put you wise to that McNab. He ain't no moredoctor than I am, and his name ain't McNab either! The scar-faced son ofa gun! I've been up against him, and so has Bull; ain't you, Nathan?"
"Poker stories are barred, I believe," said the Senator coldly.
Mr. Ridley's face was a study.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered, with his mouth full of potatoes."Let's change the subject; there are lots of other things to talk about.I like war stories, myself. Senator," said he, turning to SenatorHammond, "the first time I ever saw you--and then it was some distanceoff--you were in the biggest kind of a hurry; I never saw a man soanxious to get from here, say, to over there."
"When was it? I do not recollect," said the old veteran pleasantly.
"Why, at Bull Run; don't you remember Bull Run?"
"Do I? Well, I should say I did. You fellows certainly had us going thatday, and if you had been smart you would have pushed matters, capturedWashington, and thus ended the war, or at least have been in a positionto dictate your own terms. As to our retreat, I remember so well thedisgusted tones of a staunch Union lady living in Washington, speakingto one of the boys on the night of our return.
"'You coward!' she said bitterly, 'to run away at the first fire! Don'tyou know that the finger of scorn will be pointed at you all the rest ofyour life?'
"'That may be so, lady,' said the soldier doggedly, 'but I'd ruther hevthe finger o' scorn pinted at me any time than one o' them damned Rebelcannon!'
"And another of the boys limping by, foot-sore and weary, was accostedby this same angry dame, 'You ran, did you? You ran! Shame! Shame! A bigfellow like you! Why did you run?'
"'I run, mum, 'cause I couldn't _fly_, that's why I run!'"
"Yes, quite true; and yet, after all, how like the moon we are,"muttered one of the newspaper men disconnectedly.
"How so?" inquired Senator Hammond acidly.
"Why, here we are, full--gloriously full--on the twentieth of the month,and eight days later, down to our last quarter."
"That's bad, very bad, O'Brien," said another scribe mournfully."Forgive him, Senator. I will have something to say to him later."Withering glances were cast at the unlucky one, who seemed about to sinkunder the table, and the wind outside howled dismally, and rattled thewindows in its rage.
Senator Pennypacker.]
The situation was steadied somewhat by Senator Pennypacker. The Senator,who entered public life five years ago a poor man, and who, by livingeconomically, saving his pay, and borrowing his chewing tobacco, is atpresent worth considerably over a million dollars, now favored thecompany with some sage remarks as to the tendency of the times towardextravagance, the high cost of living in Washington, the iniquity of theboarding-house keepers, and the difficulty he had to make both endsmeet. The Senator is a tall, lank, ungainly looking man; thin lipped,with mean, cunning eyes, strained ever for the main chance. A few tuftsof reddish hair are flattened on either side of his cranium, and hisnose and chin were sharpened on the grindstone of necessity and earlyhardship into twin beaks. Verily a vulture, battening now on the Trusts,and feared and hated by other birds of smaller body and weaker wing.With him, Selfishness is indeed the main-spring of Ambition! Hisfeatures are well-known to the public through the medium of thoseextensive advertisements in the papers heralding the great vegetableremedy "Gee-Soo-Na."
His remarks were received in silence, though a careful observer mighthave noticed an exchange of solemn winks between Colonel Manysniftersand Sammy Ridley.
"Oh, he is the stingy one, all right," Colonel Manysnifters confidedlater to Mr. Ridley. "He is the kind of fellow who would send his bestgirl a box of candy Saturday morning, and call around Sunday night andeat it all up."
When the Senator had fully delivered himself, some one brought up thenegro question.
"They certainly are the limit in Washington," said Colonel Manysnifters."The sassy black rascals seem to think they own the town. And niggerpolicemen, too! Think of a white man being
arrested by a niggerpoliceman!"
"I do not see why lawbreakers should object to the color of the man whogathers them in," said Van Rensselaer sarcastically.
"We Southerners do, anyway," retorted the Colonel hotly.
"You Southerners should behave yourselves, then there would be notrouble," observed Senator Hammond dryly.
"Well, that's all right, now," said Colonel Manysnifters, flaring up,"we don't expect you Northerners to feel as we do about it! We----"
"Come, come, Manysnifters," said Senator Bull pacifically, "don't getexcited. Don't let the 'nigger in the wood-pile' spoil this occasion.Calm yourself."
"Oh, I'm not excited. It takes a lot to excite me," said the Colonel;"but just to give you an idea of how things are going in Washington, acousin of mine from Atlanta, a kindly disposed chap as ever lived,meeting an old negress on the street there the other day, said to her,'Well, Auntie, how are you this bright morning?'
"'Huh!' exclaimed the old woman angrily, 'Auntie! Don't you call me noAuntie! I ain't yoh aunt, and I ain't yoh uncle; I'se yoh ekal!' Nowwouldn't that jar you? That's the way the niggers feel about it inWashington."
"Forget it, Manysnifters," urged Senator Bull, "forget it. Give thecolored brother a show. He will work out his own salvation."
"At the end of a rope," growled the Colonel.
"Be charitable, sir, be charitable," said Senator Pennypackerponderously. "The negro problem lies with the white people of the South.They will solve it. Give them time. Perhaps they may find
"'With keen, discriminating sight, Black's not so black, Nor white's so very white!'"
"Oh, we will solve it all right," said Colonel Manysnifters knowingly,"trust us for that. Only--you Northern folks keep your hands off. That'sall we ask!"
Mr. Ridley, to soothe the fiery Southerner, poured out a generouslibation, and the dark cloud rolled over.
