Jasper Republican, Volume 1, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 May 1875 — THE LITTLE OLD GENTLEMAN. [ARTICLE]

THE LITTLE OLD GENTLEMAN.

“Talking of that,” said Mi. Wilson, jotting up and poking the fire vigorously, “ reminds, mo of a little incident that occurred to me in my young days. ” The scene is the best parlor of tjie send Arms at Cossop on the Sore, where there is a snug meeting of the Commissioners of Public Sewers for the district. The small, silver-headed old gentleman Who is poking the fire is a retired surgeon of the town; his colleague is Col Bowster, of Cossop Priory, a tall, grizzled ex-cavalry officer; and the red-faced, merry-looking man in the corner is a local lawyer, the clerk to the Board. Wine and biscuits are on the table. There is nothing particular to. be done, but they] we bound by act of Parliament to sit till two o’clock, and it is now barely one. .. - “It wouldn’t do to smoke, I suppose!” says the Colonel, looking dolefully out of the window; a wet, dripping day,a high street deserted of passengers, depression prevailing everywhere.' “It wouldn’t do to smoke* eh ? ” “ Well,” replied the lawyer, doubtfully, “ perhaps it wouldn’t he quite regular, eh? Whatdeyeßsayi Mr. Wilson?” * ‘♦Personally, I haven’t the slightest objection,” replies Wilson ;■ “ but whether public.opinion would sanction the members of a public board—on public busk ness — l —' Wbat do you think, Coloufel?” “No, no; I see that—l quite see that,” said the Colonel, relinquishing *his hdlff of his cigar case, and yawning dolefully. “Try a pinch of snuff, Colonel,” 'slid Wilson, producing a little horn snuff-box, and tapping the lid‘with his knuckle. “ Public opinioncan’t object to snuff.” The Colonel stretched out his hand for the snuff-box, took a pinch, and then examined the box in a listless way. “That box,’’ went on Wilson, “ is connected with a curious incident in my early life,?’ . •; • ; “ Well, let’s hear it, Wilson,” said the Colonel good-naturedly; “anything’s better than sitting here doing nothing.”. “Well, whe&l first joined the.medical school of St. Joseph’s,” began Mr. Wilson, seating himself by the fire with a glass "6f sherry in his hand, Which he sipped now and then in the pauses of his narrative—* 4 when I first joined the medical school and made my acquaintance with the dissecting table, there was a person in the habit of frequenting the dissect-ing-room whose position and calling were for a long time a puzzle to me. He was. a fine, tall man, well dressed, generally in a bine, swaflow-foiled -coat With brass buttons, a can(try : colored waistcpat,, white kerseymere trowsers and Hdsflian boots; quite a buck,’ in fact* andhe Would walk up and down. rqom dangling a great bunch of seals that bung at bis fob, and gave himself' as many airs as a Queen’* physician. The .professors seemed to knew him well, aaff. treated him witJtfft ~so£t,.<of deference; he would; often be caHsWtoatand closeted with the authorities of the school. Altogether he held an important, Although unrecognized, posiiion-,afc.St~* Joseph’s. The elder students, when I asked them about > him, only mystified' me; and at last my curiosity beclme so strong that I determined to satisfy it at she fountain h«ad. «oe day* when I happened to be alone with him in the dissecting-room, I said; tftrlftp: *Mr. Blackstock’ (that was the gentlenoan’s ntittiti, ‘ I see you here a great deal; pray, excuse me for asking you what is the exaet position you occupy in the medical profession?’ He turned rather red aqd looked down upon me in a haughty kind of way. ‘Bir,’he said, ‘I am Purveyor General to the Faculty!’ ” “ Purveyor—exfictly,’’ mid the CWwdf

as Wilson paused to sip his wine. “ Had ’em inftheCrimea, I recollect—providedraedlcar stores, and so on. Ah, your friend was a Wilson?” “Aha’nol'tbat sort" of a pufsijrdt, Colodel. Perhaps you might make a guessfat his particular line. ? Give'it up 1 , eh? Well, sir, they were subjects—subjects, as we called them; in plain terms -Hbodjes.” »-• r'?& •; Si--. sSto “Bedy-snateher, eh!” cried the lawer. “ Ought to have been hanged” “Well, I don’t know whether that wasn’t his eventful fate; but there were many worse fellows than Blackstock. I’ll tell you a. little incident that illus trates his kindness of heart. I think I may almost say that he saved my life. ... ‘H must tell you that Blackstock had a little dog called Bingo, the most extraordinary dog you evfefsaw.'Hewas a yellow dog, of a r sickly, unwbolesdine yellow,- without a particleof Mai* <m Ms body, but a thft kt‘ the tip of his tail. He was, always with”Ms master. /..* “ I mention Bingo,” said Wilson, with a low chuckle, “because he’s necessary to my story; and I may romafk that,'notwithstanding his repulsive appf&rkiice, there was something very might say almost hmpto—m M» expression. And yet he was morose in disposition, attached to medical students, whom he recognized with marvelous instinct, but to the rest of the wOjfid sullen and defiant. But to proceed. evening, or, rather, I shojald say one mornihg, at a very early hour—between two And three—l happened to be returning with «' friend, one Jackson, from sqjfip scene of gayqfcy to my rooms in MaryleboneV "Oh our way we passed the church of Saint Giles Overreach. Perhaps, it wasn’t St- Giles, for, my memory is not always accurate on these minor points, but, anyhow, a church with a large churchyard about it, -that was surrounded by a high wall, on the top of which was a very spiky tjieoecmx de frise. The public footway ran close beside this wall, hardly a foot m Width, and the road was very bad just then; in feet, at that season df the .yebr— mid-winter—an lhipas sableslough, or quagmire. It is not' yesterday I am talking about, mind yop; in fact it was before the;, time of street-gas-lamps. The road was dimly lighted with an oil-lamp tbat|wung in a l?iss?ket from the church-yard Wall, and the next light was round the corner, quite opt-pf sight. Well, iny friend and I were pushing along at full speed, in a vc?y cheerful mood, laufpiiii|Mtiiifl singing ; hut, when we came |o the foot of the church wall, all looked iso gloomy and ghost-" like, the black, dank wall, the sullen lamp throwing a sort of sickly gleam on tfee sea of mud below, that involuntarily we grew eittnt and came tot a; stand. ‘ Here goes, Jack!’ cried my friend, and scampered hastily along the footpath, While I followed him at full speed- tt was narrow enough, and some of the stones were loose, and if-you lost your balance you were up to your knees in black mud; so that I had enough to do to see where I put my feet without looking aloft. All of a sudden, rap-bang I struck my head against something—something that gave way, and swung backward and forward, bitting me at -each swing, and bringing me to a coinplete stand-still. Well, I cast my eyes aloft, nnd saw, perched on the top pf the church wall, sitting on the cheveam de frise as comfortably -to you, Colpneh, would, sit a saddle, a little maa in black, who ’holdftig' a rope in hie hand, and fijom this rope hung a long, narrow package, wrapped up in- black tarpaulin—the package ill fact, against whichI had knocke&my head.” “A body, probably?” suggested the Colonel. " * , '

r u A very fair inference,” said Wilson. “WelJ, I must tell you that it Was~an understood thing, in the profession that none of takp notice of anything of that kind., Publie feeling was very high on the point, and I wouldn’t have given sixpence for the lif&of apyg body caught iii life act; while the true mtSfelsts of humanity demanded that the medical schools should have the means should have sca^pired more as iiynpk would have it,‘a dog bfigin te btfrkirfem'lnside the churchyard. It was impossible to mistake tihat bark—it was Bingo’s. Some spirit of mischief entered intone, and I cried out in a gruff, disguised voice: ‘ What! Blackstock, are-you busy, then, to-night V and ran on. For. a moment my voice seemed to have struck terror into the hearts of the resurrectionists. The body came down to the ground with a crash, and, turning round, .! saw little man sitting astride the wall'like one stupefied. But the next modern he dropped softly down and pursued us. Well,jwe ran like the wind—we were both good runners—and yet we could shake off these pursuing foot*, steps. Tjhft; faster we -went the %t- r ex tyeyseemed to follow; and I assurn you my bldodrfin cold inmy veins till, turning the corner of the .street, we met a party :<ff the w*tch With... and lanterns, at whose appearance our followers hastily decamped, and, having explained to the watchmen that our flight was a| mere youthful frolic, we reached *P#f and then made my way to my* own rooms 1 , Which were atkb&fchd'ofme next Btreet, ‘looking over ray skenWer-afe every corner to make sure that I was not being watched. Weil, gentlemen, when I reached my own' &oor, imagine iny chagrin to find that I hud lost* the key. It was a large street-door l^ey—*tatch-keys were little in' use firehose days—and I could not think how I had managed to lose it} but (here wai the fact, it wee

gone,and I Was locked out fn th# street tbit oold, dreary, winter’d nigbt. I the top of the Was as d& » madq no Impression upon her. TheP 1 returned to my friend’s. lodging, but had nohftw fortune tffifere, tod;'tired and cold, J was obliged to patrol tbe nelghborhood for three orYotrr hours before Icould gain Mnfltttoee. I Was not without # fear that my friend, of the churchyard might be dogging iny footsteps, hat: I saw nothing to excite 1 farther alarm. Apparently We had thrown him off the trail altogether. .. “ As.soon as I gor back to my rooms IWent tombed and dM not get bp till night* Ml. The eold seemed to have got into my very bones. In the meantime my ; landlady ' was loud ; in her Contplaiutis against me for the loss of : her key; and as soon as I rose and had dressed I was obliged to go to a neighboring locksmith would co« oslittlu .to have lb lock rapose.- I ordered a lock, therefore, very unwillingly, for it would cost four or ifve shillings, a sum thaiT coOld iil spare. T Wak sitting -in a meditative mood, de-' placed aato have a key made Off put-’ pressed by rtteum and chagrined at the Waste of so much monpy, when the blacksmith, who had left .the house half an hoisr before, haying ta£eh the measurements for the , lock, returned and asked to see me.

“‘J have good news for you,air,’ he said, smffihg; ‘the key has been found, and youwUlbe a,ble to get it back for nothing. ‘.Buch'k nice, merry, old gentlemen has found it, Ar! I’ve brought him with pie to see you;- and I’ll bring him upstairs if you’ll alfowtmo.’ * - d •*' “ A merry old gerftleman he proved to be, with tightly-strapped trowsers, very curiy brimmed hat and a spencer, ‘‘‘ Ah, merry dogs!’ he cried, when he saW me. *Gad, I wish I was young Oh, what games, -What jolly .games! Keys! bless my heart! what do ■we • care about .keys l flipg ’em in, the street, bless my heart F- ; Anci so the, old gentleman ran on. -••The locksmith ‘ took nia leave ; but the merry old feßow remained, laughing and chatting away. “ ‘ Then you really have found my, kqy, apL yerj. nwcib obliged by ,tfouble ypp hnye,taken- Pray, how did me out?’ » - “ ‘ Haybsil’ -cried the old gentleman; ‘ lose ft wafoh'- go to the watchmaker; find a key, go to the 10ckfimfth: k ’.‘' r! * W&nd 'will yon kindly let me have my key?* p ; ■i- “ ‘ AlMn good time, in good time. It> isn’t here, my boy; I hadn’t a pocket big enough/' 3 ! should have been obliged to hire a cdacft to carry, it; ha, has You must come and fefoh.it, that’s the fact. Come, and crack a bottle with me, you and your gay young friend; jolly dogs; ha, ha!’

“ I Was little disposed to turn out; but my new friend was so pressing in his invitation, and being anxious to recover my key, I was persuaded ta him. We called upon my friend, who, being rather a young fellow,' and fond of winevfftadb no objection ; to f itt>ot- 1 tie; and so we accompanied the old gentleman homo in a coach whjch, hq hired, to bis house, full of life and merrimeijjj aU the time. j j old gentleman’s house, hardly corresponded in ajiifeai*Shce witb the" character of its owner. 5 ft was decidedly 1 dark and gloomy, in a low-lying neighJjorhoodj somewhere ;near, ’ the river« ■Put the old-gentleman bad bo»#ted ap inuch of his cellar, and had given ua in his conversation such glimpses of .his hospitable way's of life, that we did not doubt we should be well entertained, notwithstanding the unpromising foot of his abode. ■ ! '■ * >•> » r “ * Now, my boys/ he cried, pushing us in before him, ‘first door to the right. And I’m away to the cellar to get a bottle of my'very best. In the meantime refresh yourselves with a pinch of snuff.’ He a candle and his snuff-box, the identical little boxl now hold In my. hand, and left us in a low-roofed, vil-lainous-lookirfg chamber, its walls black with the dirt of years,' festoohed with?

cobwebs and furnished with only a few* broken chairs and a table, ‘“An eccentric, evidently,’ said; my? friend, when the old gentlepisp had left us alone; ‘rich, top, I’ll be bounds Perhaps, as:he spempjtp have taken a fancy to-us, the old fellow will make us heirs.' “He kept us waiting so long that we began l to be uneasy—lath at night, in a , strangepface, the aspect of which was not reassuring; land yet we Could not doubt the respectability Of the little old gentleinan. Presently’We heard his voice, as he |ih*9»and3 shouted merrily and he returned,- ,-carrying. in one hand a bottle and ini the other swinging on his finger ,my key. we noticed for the first time, a tremendous scar .below h!s right es, the result;' asrW "seemed, of some'old wound. ’ **><&& «« my feds, rwod’rleavC fort in this .old ltrtnber-room anjTlongCr; come' into my oWn little snag and Wb’ll crack a bottle and make a merry night of it* We’ve got the key, we’ve got the key-f*--and we won’t go home tiH morning}* shoutCd the ©kb gentleman, in the meet Miarioue. voice, snatching up the candle leading the way through a ’the fuftsher raid of the room that opened riftl*, a harrow passage. Just as teredthe passage the old gentJerpsn* Jh if by accident, dropped the candle, so ’that everything was in profound darkness. i .','**'* - "V- *** w “ ‘ Come along, come along; we shall find alight at the other end,’ called the old gentleman, merrily. ‘ Give me your &r®, young sir, give me you? am,’

“ I wgs following him without thought or hesitation, as was my friend, when all Of a sudden I heard, from What seemed the bowels Of the earth, just in front pf me,‘the harking of a dog; it was Bingo’s bark ainong a thousand. < 'Bkek, back!’ I cried; tecofiingwith such fofeethat I dragged the old gentlCriian several paces bsckWarti; he tost Ms hold; I heard a cryfa sytalih. ‘Baek, hack!’ thrusting my friend info the room we had quitted. The door^behind us had 1 hot swung to,. fO* Jackson had not passed quite through into the passage, and there was such tertOf tod warning in my voice that he sprang back instinctively and regained the rdo|m We Mad left TWdibogWtot to with a bang; it closed with a springfocknndthwe was »9 ; motof °Pf lit WC stood together in the darkness, our arm^Mdsped together, nrfttferiiig so move to one side or the other le*fc B©me pitfall plight open beneath us. We saw at once that we hgd been into this house to he’made" away with. We had been lured into an oubliette, from which we should hardly escape with life 1 . We had been 'huAted dpwn by. the body-snatchera, whose demanded | our destruction- / , “At this moment a ngbt'appeared beneath the do(W by whlth we had first entered, and presently the door itself was opened and a face appeared, pale, gfcdstiy and drawn up by strong emotion, k-dog loudly. Next moment-the dog began ’to jump and 1 fawn upon us. .! * ‘ Ha, Bingo!,’ I cried in a. voice that I tried to make calm and assurant: ‘ Where’s*your master, Bingo? Where’s the purveyor?’ : i The man stepped into the room suddenly aqd flashed his light upon ns. It was Blackstock. ‘What! Mr. Wilson,’* he cried, ,‘Mr. Jackson!‘ Ah! I neverdreamt it was you: Pray, what are you doing herß?’'. r • $

. “‘We have c©me here by invitation. I said unconcernedly, ‘to drink a bottle of ■wine with a'littlc old gentleman.’ “ ‘ Ah!’ said Blackstock; With a forced kind of laugh - ‘ I knW- him. Have you been in -tkpre With to - , , j '.“‘'No,’ I said ; ‘ no. He left us just now/ tod hash’t come back.’ “ Blackstock .loqKEa^BTßt°ht me,”then, StjtpfKdpg',; Which was wriggling and faWpjfog'toijmyffeet. ‘.MAh,’he said; ‘ you were always kind to - ' “ Wd followed him, gautippsly enough, down k fi#V J of 'stairs, at the bottom Of which jho open a door, whfoh led fofo SiAuArtefet. /Hdw deHofoua was foe lweafo of nfr. upon our qheeksl. t -, n r * , ! said Bla 9^ s V>ek. ‘ You’lf feeepybfir tongues between your teeth, I know, ftff yohr own sakes, another tifoe. Don’t you mentixm-mames, sir. You’ve been precious near kingdom come,

gents, foja night. Good-by.’ “We ne.yer saw anytMng more Of Blackstomt in ottr dissecthig-rooTn, but a few days-after the occurrences of that night ye had anew sujyect, which turned out to be ‘ the little old gentjeman.’ Qf coqrse it 'was ho use returning Ms snuffbSx, afid lhave kept ft ever since, as a meinedto of an occurrence I should otherwise sometimes fancyrww but«-dream.” “ Yes, Iterwas a kind-hearted individual, ykwr *«- marked when yon begap , ypur story,” said the Colonel, yawhl.bg violently. *#hy, itWtwd’o’ctoek. 1 ' lirever spent a longer ifonr irfmy life. Well, good-by, Witemi; gentlemen, good-by. By foe way, Tyilupn, what becapf ; p| ; the key?” “I’.vfi no doubt it is at, the" bottom of the river-to this day,” sdid Wilson, with a chuckle- ‘ “ Adieu, my friends.”

How to Ait Nervous: Babies to Sleep. A baby is a very tender thing, people say, but most of them are very for from knowing ho*w tender/ Imagine how nervous you are in. certain states—when recovering from illness, say, when the falj of a book or the slam of a door makes yoh quiter tad feel faint, as if some one gave you a blow. That is the way a young baby feels at bftr A puff of wfnd wiil set it gaspingfdts little breath •blown quite away. A noise makes it shiver, a change pt summer air makes it turn death cold. A baby is the most peifyfturdf beings, and the torture it suffers in. geitjg to sleep and being awakened by eqrelepa sounds, when just “ dropping ofi,” is only comparable to tile game experience of an older person during ah adute nervous headache. Ybung: babies ought! to pass the first month of their lives in the country, for its stillness no less than its fresh air. Bat where the silence is not to be com- , manded baby may be soothed by folding .UjaQft napkin, wet In warmish water; lightly ovsr the top of its. head, its eyes tad its ears. It is the best way to put nervous babies to sleep. A flue towel should be wet and laid over its head; the ehd twisted a little till it made a sort of Bkbil cap, tad, though baby sometimes fights against being blindfolded in this way, five minutes usuaUy.adli send him off into blissful slumbpr. The compress sootheS the little, feverisfi brain, deadens [ssftuud in his eare, and shuts out everything thaV takes his attention, so that sleep takes him unaware. Teething babies find this very comfortable, for are always hot, and there is A fevered beating in the arteries each side.— Western Rural. - rr , ~! * ' ,h - —-—4S—.j don’t you think a woman writes more satisfactory letters than a man?” “ Certainly, my dear. It is far more satisfactory to receive a letter from a woman than a man.” The fond wife muses, and concludes tbftt it is pe? miiiion to watch the npU.