My friend Hudson was now within six weeks of being of age, when, unfortunately, there arrived in Philadelphia a company of players from England. Hudson, who was eager for every thing that had the name of pleasure, insisted upon my going with him to their first representation. Among the actresses there was a girl of the name of Marion, who seemed to be ordinary enough, just fit for a company of strolling players, but she danced passably well, and danced a great deal between the acts that night. Hudson clapped his hands till I was quite out of patience. He was in raptures, and the more I depreciated, the more he extolled the girl. I wished her in Nova Zembla, for I saw he was falling in love with her, and had a kind of presentiment of all that was to follow. To tell the matter briefly, (for what signifies dwelling upon past misfortunes?) the more young Hudson’s passion increased for this dancing girl, the more his friendship for me declined; for I had frequent arguments with him upon the subject, and did all I could to open his eyes. I saw that the damsel had art, that she knew the extent of her power, and that she would draw her infatuated lover in to marry her. He was headstrong and violent in all his passions; he quarrelled with me, carried the girl off to Jamaica, married her the day he was of age, and settled upon his plantation. There was an end of all my hopes about the ceded territory.
Lucy, who was always my resource in misfortune, comforted me by saying I had done my duty in combating my friend’s folly at the expense of my own interest; and that, though he had quarrelled with me, she loved me the better for it.
Reflecting upon my own history and character, I have often thought it a pity that, with certain good qualities, and I will add talents, which deserved a better fate, I should have never succeeded in any thing I attempted, because I could not conquer one seemingly slight defect in my disposition, which had grown into a habit. Thoroughly determined by Lucy’s advice to write to Mr. Croft, to request he would give me another trial, I put off sending the letter till the next day; and that very morning Mr. Croft set off on a journey to a distant part of the country, to see a daughter who was newly married.
I was vexed, and from a want of something better to do, went out a-shooting, to get rid of disagreeable thoughts. I shot several pheasants, and when I came home, carried them, as was my custom, to old Mr. Hudson’s kitchen, and gave them to the cook. I happened to stay in the kitchen to feed a favourite dog, while the cook was preparing the birds I had brought. I observed, in the crop of one of the pheasants, some bright green leaves, and some buds, which I suspected to be the leaves and buds of the kalmia latifolia, a poisonous shrub. I was not quite certain, for I had almost forgotten the little botany which I knew before I went to China. I took the leaves home with me, to examine them at leisure, and to compare them with the botanical description; and I begged that the cook would not dress the birds till she saw or heard from me again. I promised to see her, or send to her the next day. But the next day, when I went to the library, to look into a book of botany, my attention was caught by some new reviews, which were just arrived from London. I put off the examination of the kalmia latifolia till the day after. To-morrow, said I, will do just as well, for I know the cook will not dress the pheasants to-day: old Hudson does not like them till they have been kept a day or two.
To-morrow came, and the leaves were forgotten till evening, when I saw them lying on my table, and put them out of the way; lest my little boy should find and eat them. I was sorry that I had not examined them this day, but I satisfied myself in the same way as I had done before: to-morrow will do as well; the cook will not dress the pheasants to-day; old Hudson thinks them the better for being kept two or three days.
To-morrow came; but, as the leaves of the kalmia latifolia were out of my sight, they went out of my mind. I was invited to an entertainment this day at the mayor’s: there was a large company, and after dinner I was called upon, as usual, for a song; the favourite song of
“Dance and sing, Time’s on the wing,
Life never knows return of spring;”
when a gentleman came in, pale and breathless, to tell us that Mr. Hudson and three gentlemen, who had been dining with him, were suddenly seized with convulsions after eating of a pheasant, and that they were not expected to live. My blood ran cold: I exclaimed, “My God! I am answerable for this.” On my making this exclamation, there was immediate silence in the room; and every eye turned upon me with astonishment and horror. I fell back in my chair, and what passed afterward I know not; but when I came to myself, I found two men in the room with me, who were set to guard me. The bottles and glasses were still upon the table, but the company were all dispersed; and the mayor, as my guards informed me, was gone to Mr. Hudson’s to take his dying deposition.
In this instance, as in all cases of sudden alarm, report had exaggerated the evil: Mr. Hudson, though extremely ill, was not dying; his three guests, after some hours’ illness, were perfectly recovered. Mr. Hudson, who had eaten the most plentifully of the pheasant, was not himself, as he said, for two days; the third day he was able to see company at dinner as usual, and my mind was relieved from an insupportable state of anxiety.
Upon examination, the mayor was convinced that I was perfectly innocent: the cook told the exact truth, blamed herself for not sending to me before she dressed the birds; but said that she concluded I had found the leaves I took home were harmless, as I never came to tell her the contrary.