FRANK AND THE PROFESSOR.
It wanted but a few days of the commencement of the lectures. Having procured a boarding-house, and furnished myself with the necessary books and tickets, I was sauntering over the city, amusing myself with the many strange sights which pass unnoticed by the denizens, yet have such an attraction for the grave rat just emerged from the country, when I was hailed by a Southern acquaintance—a rattling, red-headed fellow, of Irish descent; the proof of which, the tip of his tongue always presented.
“How are you, Tensas—when did you arrive—slayed many the past summer? I brought them to their senses in my section, certain; for the grand jury found a true bill against me in thirteen cases for manslaughter. Let's take a drink. Ha! ha! I want to tell you of an occurrence that happened to old——. Bless his sugar-loaf head! if he'd only let me left when I first wanted, I'd always hereafter write his name without the first letter. You see, Ten, I had letters of introduction for the old chap; and I thought I'd deliver them early, and get on his good side before the winter's course of sprees commenced. I suppose you know, as he's a widower, and writing a book, and deeply in debt—to his Maker—that he lives up in the college, and cooks his own victuals, and has quite a retired life of it, as my uncle the postmaster remarked about his own situation, when the department gave him his walking-papers. Well, I went up to his room when everything was quiet about the college, thinking what a nice scientific disquisition we could have, if the old gentleman, knowing I was a hunter, was to ask me why the rings on a coon's tail didn't grow parallel to the axis of its long diameter, instead of the short; or, to which fowl did a young duck owe the most filial love—to the duck that laid the egg, or the hen that hatched it? And such like questions, worthy of being lucubrated upon by great minds only.
“I found the old gentleman very complacent and easy, standing up in his night-shirt and making whiskey-toddy in a teapot, whilst he gave the last touch to an introductory oration for the P. T. S.
“'Prof.————, I presume?' said I, knocking at the door after I had opened it—thinking, that as I had forgotten it at first, it would be an imputation on Southern manners to neglect it entirely.
“'The same,' said he, with the most perfect composure, knocking his oration into the stove, upsetting his punch, and leaving half of his subuculus on a nail as he jumped into the next room; whilst I, pulling off my boots, and finishing what little punch had not run out, told him not to distress himself putting on his best clothes, or preparing much dinner, as I had lunched very heartily.
“In a few moments he returned, and seemed to be in the best humour imaginable at the perfect homeability I was surrounding myself with.
“Thinking him a queer one, I resolved on making myself as agreeable as possible, as I saw from the way his face was screwed up he had the toothache badly and needed comfort; so I asked him how long his wife had been dead, and whether there was any truth in the report that he was courting a widow on Fifth Street; also, if he bought his Irish whiskey by the gallon or cask; he apparently did not hear these kind inquiries, but asked if I had not a letter of introduction.
“'True for you, I have, and there it is,' handing him a fifty dollar bill; it belongs to me, and I'm Frank Me————; take the price of your winter's jaw out of it, and we'll see what's in town with the balance.'
“He got well of his toothache in a moment. 'Happy to make your acquaintance; you're from the southern swamps, plenty of chill and fever there; permit me to read for your critical attention a few pages I have written in my book on the subject.'
“'With the greatest pleasure in the world,' I replied; 'allow me to subscribe to your work; deduct it out of the fifty.' He commenced reading a description of a Mississippi agur, and cuss me if it wasn't so natural I shivered all over; and the tears pop't out of my eyes like young pigeons out of a loft, when I thought of the last shake I had in far distant Massassip, sitting on a muddy log fighting the mosquitoes, and waiting for a steamboat to bear me from her friendly bosom. You ought to have heard him when he described the awful effects it had upon our gals, developing their spleens, and bringing the punkin to their blessed faces; there was a pathos in his language, a tremor in his voice, soft as the warbling of a he-dove before he pitches into a pea-patch.
“'Then it is,' he read, 'when the deleterious emanations of the decomposing vegetation have penetrated the inmost recesses and mysterious intricacies of the corporeal constituents of the intellectual inhabitants, that humanity instigates the benevolent individual to mournfully and sadly deliberate over the probable effects, after a perpetuity of continuance of such morbific impressions.'
“I was delighted at the grand simplicity of his expression, and was giving my approbation too much vent, when tap, tap, went something at the door.
“'And even beauteous woman,' continued the professor, 'goes a'—tap, tap—'whilst ever is heard'—tap, tap—' and nature assimilating'—tap, tap—'mournfully weeps over the silent'—bom, bom, went the outsider, growing impatient. 'Bless me! who's there? come in,'—and an hour-glass, the sand nearly out, was substituted for the punch-bowl—'Come in;' the door opened, and gave admittance to what would have been a handsome young woman, had the care in her heart not written 'at home' so legibly on her cheek. 'Take a seat, ma'am.'
“'I will call again, professor,' said I, rising.
“'No, no, sir, sit down, sir. Madam, how can I serve you?'
“'I am in a great hurry, professor,' I said again, seizing my hat.
“'No, sir, I insist you must not leave. Madam, what do you want?' and the poor professor jumped from his seat to the door, and from the door to his seat, asking, almost sternly, 'Madam, what do you want?'
“'I'm a poor widow, with a large family of children, and hearing that you were a very charitable gentleman, and—' “'Professor, I cannot stand this pitiable narrative. Madam, there is some money for you. You must indeed excuse me. I shall not be able to restrain my tears.'
“'No, sir, stay, I command you, I insist. Woman, what do you want? in the name of virtue, what do you want?' The widow commenced her piteous appeal again, when, quite overcome, I rushed from the room, followed by the voice of the ruined professor, who feared that his reputation was for ever gone. 'Woman, in the name of Jehovah, what do you want?'”
Poor Frank! Death's dark garniture hath clothed his piercing eye; friendship and sorrow no more thrill his heart, and the noisome worm revels in the home of high and noble daring. He died! not on the sick-bed, with mourning friends gathered around, but on the battle-field, fighting for his country, on the victor soldier's bed—the body of his foe. And of all the warm leal hearts that were stilled, of all the true spirits that floated up to God, from thy glorious but bloody field, Buena Vista! silence fell not on a nobler breast—not a truer soul went up than rose from thy bosom, Frank—true friend of my early manhood!