of my self; not only were my nose and lips swollen, but the gloves which the nigger had on, being blackened with the stove-blacking, had communicated the metallic polish to my face and shirt, so that both were of a beautiful sheet-iron color. I kept my room for ten days; sent word to the landlady that I had the measles, and requested that nobody be admitted to my room but the servant who brought me my food, and him I feed liberally to keep mum. When I got well enough to go out, I loaned my boxing gloves to a young gentleman, with my mind fully made up that if he never offered to return them, I shouldn't send a constable after him, nor ask him for them. I have not indulged in any amusements of the kind since, and I am glad to announce that I am fully satisfied with my past experience in the study of the science."
Mr. Boggs's narrative was loudly applauded. He, however, protested against the civility.
Mr. Van Dam characterized it as a valuable contribution, which called forth from Mr. Boggs the question, "What the devil he meant by calling it a contribution; he had no idea of the kind."
The members insisted that, however he might regard it, it certainly was a valuable contribution to their entertainment, and would grace the archives of the club.
Mr. Boggs stated that had he entertained the most distant idea he was doing anything of any value to anybody, he should have never been able to say a word. If it was a contribution he was glad of it.
The Higholdboy then called upon the other members for their contributions to science.
Mr. Quackenbush responded, and after drinking some Croton water diluted with gin, he began:
"Last evening I started out on a cruise, with the view of seeing the elephant on the streets by gas-light. I saw the identical elephant to be seen every evening, and with which you are all familiar, and I began to think about eleven o'clock that I should be compelled to retire to rest without having seen anything worthy of note. To be sure, I had seen a fight between a nigger and Irishman, which, after the first round, was finished by each party running away as fast as his legs could carry him, thereby tacitly acknowledging that he was beaten; but what was this? Every one of you have been in fights, and of course it would be unnatural to suppose that a description of a scrimmage of brief duration between an Irishman and a nigger would be particularly interesting. I was about to turn my footsteps homeward, when the movements of an individual attracted my attention. The person in question was a gentleman of about forty-five years of age. His height was fully six feet, his form was very spare, his face thin, his nose sharp and prominent, his eyes and hair grey, and his face closely shaven, wrinkled, and sallow. He was dressed in a plain black dress-coat and pants, of a style about three years old. His vest was of black satin, his shirt-bosom was scrupulously white; a black silk choker was tightly enveloped about his neck, above which peered a diminutive collar, which, when it was put on, was without doubt a standing-collar, but the starch had not been made of such a consistency as to render it consistent for the collar to stand up against the unstiffening effects of a hot day's sweating. As I saw him, he was coming down the street at a rapid rate, describing all sorts of geometrical figures on the sidewalk, and making efforts to sing the words of "Yankee Doodle" to the tune of "Old Hundred." Whenever he ran against an awning-post, he would stop, and expostulate with the post for its want of civility, and would insist that the post had never been born and bred in the St. Lawrence country, or it would have shown more politeness to strangers. He was entirely unable to account for the sudden revolutions of the earth, which made day and night follow each other in such quick succession. When he ran against a lamp-post, he would look up to the light and insist that it was dinner-time, and would wonder why the old woman didn't blow the horn. At that moment a policeman came along, and was going to take him into custody. On observing the policeman's uniform, he inquired of him whether he was a 'Merican or British soger, and whether the Russians had whipped Nicholas, and whether Cuba had begun to bombard General Pierce at Sebastopol. I knew the officer very well, and he suggested that as the man seemed to be quite respectable in his appearance, it might be well to take him to a hotel for the night. I volunteered to do this, and accordingly took him under my care. On going down, he asked me if I was a karvern teeper, as he wanted to take a drink of bed, and then go to sleep on a blass of grandy. I told him I was, and would see him put to bed all right. On asking him his name, I learned that he was Deacon Josiah Pettingill, of St. Lawrence county. We got to the hotel, and I informed the clerk that the gentleman was a country friend of mine, whom I wanted stowed away for the night, and for whom I would call in the morning. I accompanied him to the room, assisted in removing his garments, and, after putting him between the sheets, I left the premises. This morning I called on him at his room, and found him still asleep. I proceeded to awaken him. It occupied some minutes to explain to him the true condition of affairs. At last, the whole of the occurrences of the previous evening seemed to come to his recollection.
"He inquired his condition when I found him. I told him that he was at that time considerably drunk, and disposed to be somewhat noisy.
"'Well, squire,' said he, 'I shouldn't be surprised if it was so; the fact is, my head aches at this minute as if it was ready to bust, and it feels jest as it did once in my lifetime, a good while ago, when I took too much egg nogg; that was full twenty-five year ago; for awhile, I felt as if I was ridin' to Heaven over glairy ice down a high hill, on a bob-sled with its runners greased. But I never got there; I know one thing sartain—a few hours afterward I felt as if the bob-sled had run agin a stump, when almost tu the bottom of the hill, and the concussion had landed me intu a cauldron-kettle full of fever and ager and blacksmiths' hammers, mixed together in equal parts; it wasn't funny, squire; I went right off and jined the church, and hain't been blue since, unless I wos last night.'