The industry of the Somebodies was one of the traits in the characters of the two young women, particularly commendatory to Rhapsody; he seldom paid them a morning or afternoon call, that they were not diligently engaged with needles and Berlin wool—fashioning wrought suspenders for brother, slippers for brother, or mother, or sister, or the Rev. Mr. So-and-So—the recently made inmate of the family. The multiplicity of such performances, for brother, mother, sister, the reverend gentleman—mere pastime, as Mrs. Somebody would remark,—most probably would have caused a mystery or misgiving in the minds of many adventurous Lotharios; but Rhapsody, though, as we see, a man of the world, had something yet to learn of society and its complexities. Things progressed smoothly—the reverend gentleman facetiously cajoled Miss Alice and the mother upon the issue of coming events—the lively young lawyer, etc., etc.,—and it seemed to be a settled matter that Miss Alice was to be the bride of Mr. Rhapsody at last.
Rhapsody, usually, after dark, in the evening, in his laboring garments, made his return of work and received more. Whilst thus out, one evening, on business, in making a sudden turn of a corner, he came plump upon Mrs. Somebody and Alice! Rhapsody would have dashed down a cellar—into a shop—up an alley, or sunk through the footwalk, had any such opportunity offered, but there was none—he was there—beneath the flame of a street lamp, with the eagle eyes of all the party upon him! Cut off from retreat, he boldly faced the enemy!
He was going to a political caucus meeting in a noisy and turbulent ward—apprehended a disturbance—donned those shady habiliments, and the large green bag in his hand, that a—well, though it did not seem to contain such goods, was supposed, for the nonce, to contain his books and papers; documents he was likely to have use for at the caucus! Rhapsody got through—it was a tight shave; he dexterously declined accompanying the ladies home—they were rather queerly attired themselves, it occurred to Rhapsody; they made some excuse for their appearance, and so the maskers quit, even. Time passed on—Alice and Rhapsody had almost climaxed the preparatory negotiations of an hymenial conclusion, when another contretemps came to pass—it was the grand finale.
It was on a rather blustery night, that Rhapsody, in haste, sought the shop of his employer; he had work in hand which, being ordered done at a certain hour, for an anxious customer, he was in haste to deliver. His green bag under his arm, in rushed Rhapsody,—the servant of the customer was awaiting the arrival of the bottier and his master's boots. The shopman eagerly seized Rhapsody's verdant-colored satchel, and out came the boots, and which underwent many critical inspections, eliciting sundry professional remarks from the shopman, to our hero, Rhapsody, who, in his business matters had assumed, it appeared, the more humble name of Mr. Jones, in the shop. The customer's servant stood by the counter—fencing off a lady, further on—from immediate notice of Rhapsody. A side glance revealed sundry patterns or specimens of most elegantly-wrought slippers—the boss of the shop, and the lady, were apparently negotiating a trade, in these embroidered articles; the lady, now but a few feet from Rhapsody and the garrulous shopman, turned toward the poor fellow just as the shopman had stuffed more work into the green bag—their eyes met. Rhapsody felt an all-overish sensation peculiar to that experienced by an amateur in a shower bath, during his first douse, or the incipient criminal detected in his initiatory crime! Poor Rhapsody felt like fainting, while Miss Alice Somebody, without the nerve to gather up her work, or withstand a further test of the force of circumstances, precipitately left the store, her face red as scarlet, and her demeanor wild and incomprehensible, at least to all but Rhapsody.
Rhapsody was at breakfast the next morning—a servant announced a gentleman in the parlor desirous of an interview with Mr. Rhapsody—it was granted, and soon Jones, the boot-maker, confronted the Rev. Mr. So-and-So. Though an inclination to smile played about the pleasant features of the reverend gentleman, he assumed to be severe upon what he called the duplicity of Mr. Rhapsody; and that gentleman patiently hearing the story out, quietly asked:
"Are you, sir, here as an accuser—denouncer, or an ambassador of peace and good will?"
"The latter, sir, is my self-constituted mission," said the reverend gentleman.
"Then," said Rhapsody, "I am ready to make all necessary concessions—a clean breast of it, you may say. I am in a false position—struggling against public opinion—false pride—falsely, and yet honestly, working my way through the world. I am no more nor less, nominally, than Jones, the boot-maker. Now," continued Rhapsody, "if a false purpose covers not a false heart also, I can yet be happy in the affections of Miss Somebody, and she in mine. For those who can battle as we have, against the common chances of indigence, upright and alone in our integrity, may surely yet win greater rewards by mutual consolation and support, our fortunes joined."
"I have not been mistaken, then, sir," said the reverend gentleman, "in your character, if I was in your occupation; and you may rely upon my friendly service in an amicable and definite arrangement of this very delicate matter."