Bilkson obeyed.
“Mr. Bilkson, now will you further oblige us by opening your mouth?”
Bilkson’s face opened in half, and revealed to the now thoroughly astonished woman a very lacerated set of gums and absence of front teeth.
“That will do, Mr. Bilkson. Now your eye.”
Mr. Bilkson removed the bandage from his left eye, and revealed a symphony in black, blue and yellow, shaded with green.
“That will do, Mr. Bilkson—be seated.”
Woodbur still remained standing in tragic attitude, with his right hand thrust in the bosom of his buttoned coat. Suddenly raising his voice he shouted,
“Madame, it was your daughter who done this—your daughter! Yes, madame, your daughter! Ah, you doubt it; but I have the proof, madame, the proof!” and he drew forth a copy of the Morning Times on which the ink was scarcely dry and read in a deep sepulchral voice the article which I have already mentioned, “Beauty’s Blowout,” etc.
Among his other accomplishments Mr. Woodbur was an elocutionist, and Grimes afterward told me that he read the article so effectively and with such fierce looks directed over the top of the paper at Mrs. Hobbs, that at the last words the good lady fell in hysterics on the sofa, screaming:
“Oh, my daughter, my adopted daughter! why did you do this? Why did you do it? Disgraced us! You have disgraced us! I, who before we bust, when we lived on the avenue, furnished you a chiropodist, and an elocootionist, and a manicure, and the best pew in the Rev. Doctor Fourthly’s! I, who educated you, and cared for you, and never let you go to the public but always sent you to a private school, and taught you dancing, French and music, and gave tiddle de winks and progressive eucher parties in your honor! Oh, why, w-w-w-h-y—d-d-did you do i-t-t-t!”