Pleasant Rooms for Gentleman, Part II [pp. 813-815]

PL E ISA NT R 0 0MS F 0 R G EVTL -EMEE8V.
character, as "The Filial Fib." He discovered
that all well-regulated boys spent their even ings in unceasing efforts to attain a good
writing-hand.
Also, that his only hope of achieving that
desirable result was, in copying each evening,
till bedtime, numerous pages of his mother's
manuscript.
Whereupon he acquired his title of the
Filial Fib, and, let us hope, the good writing hand.
CHAPTER VII.
" THAT TWO DOLLARS "-HOPE LONG DEFERRED.
THE little woman went into trade. She
sold the old newspapers for six cents. The
orange - peel speculation resulted in failure.
Nobody would buy.
Meantime, "that two dollars, you know,"
was drawn from the bank perforce, to pay
the washer-woman-a poor old woman who
needed the money, on which Mamma Mullein
felt a sinking of the heart, and was obliged
to do that sum about the "Idyls," etc., twice
over, before she could quite recover her usual
cheerfulness.
Also the "dodge," though in splendid
working order, was so continually tripped up,
and circumvented by the "law," that its
young inventor might almost as well have
spared the car-horses the shame of their de feat. "The Christmas-rose will be a very
small growth," they told each other.
One-two-three-four weeks! Such
weeks! The hours in them had feet of lead,
and were lame besides. Darkest of all, came
to be that hour known as the postman's. No
such heart-shaking hour in the year, as, if
you are a mullein person, or like those who
joined David in the cave of Adullam, and
you are at the crest of the wave, and a letter
will tide you over, or dash you down into its
gulfs, you very well know. The "Hour"
quite overshadowed the Mullein family. When
it began, everybody grew nervous; while it
endured, everybody started at each tinkle of
the bell, and watched slyly out of window.
When it ended-oh! the miserable blank:
worse even than the torture of suspense! and
when the member from outside- who had
been absent meanwhile, returned-there was
another trial. The vague expectation, the
quick glance at the table and into the faces
of the stayers-at-home, the pathetic attempt
at indifference on the part of everybody; and
the determination of everybody to show no
anxiety, and to see none!-ah! let it pass!
It is easier to write than to witness.
CHAPTER VIII.
RETURNS, BILLS, AND BALANCES.
A LETTER at last, about the "Working-Idyl."
"An excellent idea," the letter said; "but
was there not a touch of nitro-glycerine in it,
that, admitted, might blow up society, or some
subscriber's idea of society, which would be
quite the same thing, as far as newspapers
are concerned;" and, so with thanks, it was
returned.
Mamma Mullein tore her hair, or rather
whatever, in the mental economy, corresponds
to hair (the real article is too expensive) in
private, mind you! and then came down smil ing, and got a letter about the "Carol." A
letter! A blow in the face.
"There was something theological in the
'Carol,'" the letter said, and truly. Mamma
Mullein was a devout woman, and it had
slipped her pen, without intending it. "There
was always danger," said the letter, "in han dling the theological porcupine, even with
gloves; and the paper declined to take the
risk. And so-with thanks," etc.
"Christmas comes but once a year," and
to make all these slips and stumbles then! A
Protestant pilgrimage, barefoot, to the Stock
Exchange, or some other temple of Mammon,
and a solemn vow never again " to call a spade
a spade," would have relieved Mamma Mullein's
overwrought feelings as she subtracted forty
dollars from her calculations. Then the tide
turned, in a letter sweeter than any love-note,
inclosing a check, for the "Preach about
Babies," twenty dollars. Another letter, and
another check, for the "Review," fifteen dol lars.
Fifth Week.- Appropriate articles for
the Chignon not returned-they had been
specially ordered, but gone into bankruptcy.
The paper had fallen into financial collapse.
Broken reeds that pierced her side. Mamma
Mullein had scarcely the heart left to subtract
forty-five dollars more from their calculations.
It was all over now. She kept a bright face
for the younger Mulleins; but, though there
might be still some scanty shreds and patches
of Christmas, there could be no Christmas rose for them.
Sixth Week.-The day before Christmas.
Returned, the prose version of "The Cow
jumped over the Moon," with thanks. "The
editor would have used it, but he had accepted
an article before receiving it, on precisely the
same subject, which would appear in the pres ent number." Singular, and yet more singu lar that the article on the same subject proved
to be written by the editor in person. But
Mamma Mullein had for her consolation the
adage that great minds think alike.
By the same post arrived Skiggs's bill for
twenty-five dollars, Quiggs's bill for eighteen
dollars, Haggs's bill for twenty dollars; total,
sixty-three dollars. And the Mullein receipts
had been thirty-five dollars! Mamma Mullein
finds a difficulty in summing up. Something
is the matter with her eyes. And the winter
clothing, and the Christmas - rose! The
"dodge" had accumulated two dollars in
spite of the "law." The little woman had
brought six cents out of trade. The young
inventor and the little woman proposed to invest the two dollars and six cents, after supper, by means of a committee of two, which
mamma was not invited to join-for reasons
common to Christmas.
CHAPTER IX.
NEMESIS.-THE FATE OF THE "DODGE."7
ENTER the washer-woman. Nobody had expected her. If she had been Nemesis herself
the family could not have surveyed her with
more dismay. With what was she to be paid?
The young inventor looked at the disturbed
face of his mother, and gave a great gulp.
"How much is it, mamma? There is the
"dodge," you know!" and Mamma Mullein
felt the two dollars thrust into her hand. Yes,
there it was, and there was the washer-woman.
The Mulleins looked at each other incredu lously. Their last hold on their one loved
holiday was slipping from them, and they
hardly knew how to believe it, after all the
toil, and the patience, and the self-sacrifice,
and the planning! If the washer-woman had
but known it, she was being paid in dramas,
in a concentration of much that was precious.
But it looked to her a poor-enough note, un accompanied by an extra fifty cents, or so, in
honor of Christmas. She thinks they have
forgotten it!-forgotten it, poor souls! and
stands her ground. Mamma quakes before
her, and answers her but feebly. Still she
stands! Will she never go? An awful si lence. Convicted felons might wear the open
and cheerful expression of the Mulleins. The
Nemesis of the wash-tub tosses her head,
flounces, makes a remark, to the door-knob
apparently, about the poor returns of stinginess to stingy people in the long-run-but
she goes! Mamma Mullein is free to cover
her face with her hands, and the young inventor to press a soft cheek against hers, and
call her his dear, good, lovely mamma.
CHAPTER X.
THE LITTLE WOMAN AS A BUYER.
THE little woman, who has slipped out
quietly, comes in and sits down by the window, although it is cold. She has been trying
to buy a Christtnas-wreath with her six cents,
but there are none to be found at a cheaper
rate than a shilling apiece.
LOUISE E. FURNISS.
PLEASANT ROOMS FOR
GENTLEMEN.
II.
NOTWITHSTANDING the fact that the
experience, or rather the glimpse, that
I had gained by means of my first letter had
been somewhat unhappy in its nature, it was
not to be denied that the expedition, as an
expedition, had been a fair success. I there fore felt emboldened to try a second, and I
selected one of the most striking of the seven
remaining notes as my motive.
This appeared to promise an entirely different picture, and, as it seemed to me to possess a peculiarly dulcet and enticing strain, I
take the liberty to give it entire.
It was written on a small sheet of tinted
paper, with the initial H, surrounded by a
profusion of scrolls, stamped in the upper
left-hand corner; moreover, it possessed a
strong savor of patchouly. The missive, as a
whole, had such a coddling, kissy air that I
decided that it came from a lady; in this,
however, I was mistaken.
It ran thus:
"NEW YORE, August, 18'M Y DEAR MR. X. Y. Z.:
"If you will come and live in our little
nest, you may. You will find it cool, retired,
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