minister, General Schenck, presided, and after the blessing, got up
and made a great long inconceivably dull harangue, and wound up by
saying that inasmuch as speech-making did not seem to exhilarate the
guests much, all further oratory would be dispensed with during the
evening, and we could just sit and talk privately to our elbow-
neighbors and have a good sociable time. It is known that in
consequence of that remark forty-four perfected speeches died in the
womb. The depression, the gloom, the solemnity that reigned over
the banquet from that time forth will be a lasting memory with many
that were there. By that one thoughtless remark General Schenck
lost forty-four of the best friends he had in England. More than
one said that night, “And this is the sort of person that is sent to
represent us in a great sister empire!”]
LIONIZING MURDERERS
I had heard so much about the celebrated fortune-teller Madame—–, that
I went to see her yesterday. She has a dark complexion naturally, and
this effect is heightened by artificial aids which cost her nothing.
She wears curls–very black ones, and I had an impression that she gave
their native attractiveness a lift with rancid butter. She wears a
reddish check handkerchief, cast loosely around her neck, and it was
plain that her other one is slow getting back from the wash. I presume
she takes snuff. At any rate, something resembling it had lodged among
the hairs sprouting from her upper lip. I know she likes garlic–I knew
that as soon as she sighed. She looked at me searchingly for nearly a
minute, with her black eyes, and then said:
“It is enough. Come!”
She started down a very dark and dismal corridor–I stepping close after
her. Presently she stopped, and said that, as the way was so crooked and
dark, perhaps she had better get a light. But it seemed ungallant to
allow a woman to put herself to so much trouble for me, and so I said:
“It is not worth while, madam. If you will heave another sigh, I think I
can follow it.”
So we got along all right. Arrived at her official and mysterious den,
she asked me to tell her the date of my birth, the exact hour of that
occurrence, and the color of my grandmother’s hair. I answered as
accurately as I could. Then she said:
“Young man, summon your fortitude–do not tremble. I am about to reveal
the past.”
“Information concerning the future would be, in a general way, more–”
“Silence! You have had much trouble, some joy, some good fortune, some
bad. Your great grandfather was hanged.”
“That is a l–”
“Silence! Hanged sir. But it was not his fault. He could not help it.”
“I am glad you do him justice.”
“Ah–grieve, rather, that the jury did. He was hanged. His star crosses
yours in the fourth division, fifth sphere. Consequently you will be
hanged also.”
“In view of this cheerful–”
“I must have silence. Yours was not, in the beginning, a criminal
nature, but circumstances changed it. At the age of nine you stole
sugar. At the age of fifteen you stole money. At twenty you stole
horses. At twenty-five you committed arson. At thirty, hardened in
crime, you became an editor. You are now a public lecturer. Worse
things are in store for you. You will be sent to Congress. Next, to the
penitentiary. Finally, happiness will come again–all will be well–you
will be hanged.”
I was now in tears. It seemed hard enough to go to Congress; but to be
hanged–this was too sad, too dreadful. The woman seemed surprised at my
grief. I told her the thoughts that were in my mind. Then she comforted
me.
“Why, man,” she said, “hold up your head–you have nothing to grieve
about. Listen.
–[In this paragraph the fortune-teller details the exact history of the
Pike-Brown assassination case in New Hampshire, from the succoring and
saving of the stranger Pike by the Browns, to the subsequent hanging and
coffining of that treacherous miscreant. She adds nothing, invents
nothing, exaggerates nothing (see any New England paper for November,
1869). This Pike-Brown case is selected merely as a type, to illustrate