Part 10

Insufferable pest! that with wondrous force Sinks in my quivering flesh thy noxious tooth, To tap life’s current in its healthful course, And break my needful rest, and bring me ruth. Oh! virulent marauder, thou art a bore in truth, And who, that smarts beneath thy awful bite, And poisonous delving, but will, forsooth, Think that sage poet may have erred a mite, Who ably sang in ages past, “Whatever is, is right.”

I’ll place thee foremost in the swarm of those Tormenting insects that plague mankind; Yet greater craven from the earth ne’er rose, Than thou, mute robber of my peace of mind. In the musical mosquito noble traits we find; When he at night upon his mission goes, And quits the ceiling where he long has pined, On his shrill bugle a lusty blast he blows, To warn his drowsy prey that a raid he doth propose.

The vampire bat of Southern latitudes, That preys at night upon the throat of man, Quite conscious of the pain his tooth intrudes, Doth with membraneous wings the victim fan, To hold him still unconscious if he can, Of the dark demon hovering o’er his head, Drawing the blood from visage cold and wan, Till fully gorged it leaves the sleeper’s bed, And he, awaking, scarce believes he has been freely bled.

But thou, black delver, what virtue canst thou claim? Save great activity, which makes me hate thee more. Through night and day thy laboring is the same, Insatiate ever, thou never wilt give o’er, But glutton-like, still sap and bite, and bore. Yet truly thou art cursed in having such a jaw, The champ of which doth try my patience sore. And soon thou hast to scud from angry scratch and claw, And often thou must bite afresh ere surfeited thy maw!

Hadst thou instead of escharotic teeth Been furnished with a blood-extracting bill, Which once insinuated skin beneath, The worst were past; I’d feel no thrill To make me shiver as though an ague chill Did all my joints and nerves undo, Till I sit chattering like a fanning mill, Perhaps when sitting in the still church pew, Where I should think of heaven instead of things like you.

I grant there’s naught on earth, nor in the sea, Nor in the windy waste around our rolling sphere, That can at all compare with thy agility When thou art taken with a sense of fear. And what was ever formed that can come near Thy well-knit bones? Thy strange infrangibility Is too well known to need long mention here, For who but oft has seen thee spring away quite free, Although between the fingers rolled most spitefully.

FIGHTING IT OUT ON THAT LINE.

While crossing Telegraph Hill this evening in the vicinity of the beach, I witnessed an incident which has kept me smiling to myself for the last two hours.

A couple of carters met in a street at a place which needed repairing. One cart was heavily loaded with brick. The other contained a small lot of coal.

The driver of No. 1 was in favor of suspending that time-honored clause in common law, which says, “turn to the right.” Having the heavier load he wished to adopt the English system:—

“The law of the road is a paradox quite; For as you are driving along, If you go to the left you are sure to go right, If you go to the right you go wrong.”

But driver No. 2 was immovable as Cæsar when the conspirators with ready weapons knelt around him. He was determined to enforce his prerogative, even to the anchoring of his opponent’s cart.

No. 1 said he would “stand there until his corns sprouted.” No. 2 replied that he “wouldn’t budge until his corns not only sprouted, but until they went to seed, or he would have his rights.”

After considerable loud talk in which they freely expressed unqualified opinions of each other, they commenced unhitching their horses from the carts, as night was setting in, and quietly started off to their respective stables.

It happened they had met directly before the residence of a stout Teuton who owns a large brewery at the Beach. They had scarcely left the disputed point when the brewer arrived. His flushed face showed he had been freely testing the quality of his malt liquor. He demanded of some bystanders how the carts came there. Being informed of the whys and wherefores to his satisfaction, he called out his two stout sons to assist in removing the unsightly ornaments.

The united efforts of the three soon started the carts down the hill, in the direction of the bay, like a battery of flying artillery. It was only a few rods to the water, and in they plunged, one after the other, and shot out from the shore like things of life. The old man and his sons stood upon the crest of the hill viewing the descent in silence. After they had been successfully launched, the trio retired into the house with that self-satisfied and confident air that Emperor William and his two warlike aids might exhibit when retiring to their tent after a battle in which the enemy was routed. To some of the bystanders this seemed rather a precipitate proceeding; but to my untutored mind it was an act worthy to be ranked with the judicial hangings by the San Francisco Vigilance Committee.

As I left the hill, I took a last look back at the carts, fast growing indistinct in the gloom and mist closing over the bay. One craft was hugging the shore off Black Point, with a close reefed tail-board, and her wheel well under water. The other was sinking by the stern, but still scudding under bare poles in the direction of Raccoon Straits.

DUDLEY’S FIGHT WITH DR. TWEEZER.

Jim Dudley called again last night, and, as usual, bored me with one of his yarns. I overshot myself by mentioning to him how low he stood in the estimation of Doctor Tweezer, for that brought down the following upon my head:—

“Dr. Tweezer didn’t speak very highly of me, eh! Wal, ’tain’t to be wondered at when you know how I wrought upon his feelin’s once. When a feller has to go around among his patients for more’n two weeks with a beefsteak the size of a hearth rug tied to his face, as _he_ did, he ain’t agwine to hurt himself eulogizin’ the person who set him off,—not much.

“Ever fight? wal, I reckon you’d think so if you had seen the Doctor’s yard arter we got through turnin’ the chips over thar. _He_ can fight, and squirm like a cat with her tail in a tongs, that Dr. Tweezer can.

“You see the Doctor’s place was alongside the widder Gezot’s, and she had a numerous assortment of hens, specimens from cold countries, with feathers clear down to thar toe nails; and others from bilin’ hot districts, with no feathers at all onto ’em, ‘ceptin’ a few downy substitutes frillin’ around the neck. They were continually a-gettin’ into his garden and a sprawlin’ round in the soft beds thar.

“He was pooty mad over it too, for he prided himself on razin’ early vegetables, and two or three times he cautioned her to look arter her p’ultry, or he’d gin ’em a dose that would warm thar little gizzards for em’ if he was any judge of drugs.

“The widder Gezot was a plaguey stirrin’ little woman, one that was allers willin’ to flounder ahead the best way she could. Being myself somewhat interested in the lady, I used to ginnerally chime in when she got into any difficulty.

“She soon told me what Dr. Tweezer said about the hens; so we set in, and poked ’em, and stuck feathers through their bills, and did all we could, except wringing their necks, to keep ’em out of his garden.

“But hens are hens, you know, and the warm sand makes ’em feel mi’ty nice, I reckon. They still managed to git through the fence, or over it, and hold caucuses in the Doctor’s onion beds. One day arter I had bin down town talkin’ politics with the boys thar, I was settin’ on the widder’s door-step smokin’ and musin’ like, when I see her hens come a-rustlin’ hum as though forty hawks were a-stirrin’ ’em up. They p’inted straight for the water trough, and after takin’ about two dips into it, commenced the wildest gymnastic feats you ever see, flip-flopin’ around, stannin’ on thar heads, and then on thar tails. Finally they quieted down, and turnin’ feet up, lay thar dead as the chips around ’em.

“I more than suspected Dr. Tweezer had gin ’em a dose of arsenic or some other mi’ty tellin’ drug. So I jest riz up quietly and took a look over into his yard, and sure enough thar he was, a-staggerin’ and squirmin’ around, a-holdin’ of his sides, and e’enmost a-bustin’ with in’ard laughter. Now this sort of upsot me. Not that I cared so much about the widder’s chickens, but I didn’t like to see a feller so mi’ty tickled over a mean trick. So I went prancin’ around to the Doctor’s yard pooty durned lively, a-pullin’ off my coat as I ran. I cal’lated I couldn’t devote much time to strippin’ arter I got in thar.

“His back was towards me, and he never suspicioned I was comin’, but stooped over warpin’ around and sort of unwittin’ly invitin’ a kick.

“‘It’s mi’ty funny business, a-pizenin’ chickens, isn’t it?’ I ses, jest that way, and at the same time I gin him such a hoist, that I sent him playin’ leap-frog mor’n fifteen feet, and for a few moments I reckon he thought he had backed up ag’inst a batterin’ ram.

“He was mi’ty cranky though, and turned round quicker than a dog when his tail is trod on.

“‘Dudley,’ he hollered, ‘you meddlin’ ruffian, you’ve invoked the pest, so now look out for scabs,’ and with that he came at me like a cluckin’ hen at a strange dog. I see I was in for a lively time, as the boy said when he upset the bee hive. At it we went, ring and twist, duck and dodge, hop and catch it, round and round the yard like fightin’ turkeys. I could play around him at boxin’ like a cooper round a barrel, but he was grizzly on a hug, and could kick and gouge like a Mississippian.

“He went for my right eye like an Irishman for a ballot box. I’ll be blowed if I didn’t think I’d have to go one eye on it ever arterwards. Several times he had it stickin’ out like a door knob. Finally while he was a-fumblin’ around he accident’ly slipped his finger into my mouth, and I shut down on it mi’ty fast now I can tell you.

“‘Fair play! fair play!’ he hollered, ‘no bitin’.’

“‘Rats!’ ses I, jest that way, ’twixt my teeth, ‘all’s grist that comes to my mill, I reckon,’ and with that I snapped it off at the second jint like a radish. Jest then his wife, hearin’ an unusual rustlin’ and scrapin’ around the yard, come a-runnin’ to the door to see what was up. Woman like, without inquirin’ into the particulars, she took sides to wunst, and started with a dish of hot water cal’latin’ to gin me an alfired scaldin’. Luckily she stumbled over the dog that was a-skelpin’ into the house to git out of harm’s way, and her own young ’un that was crawlin’ around the floor munchin’ dirt got the hottest bath it ever experienced. That gave her somethin’ else to look arter, so that the Doctor and I had it out alone.

“Arter we had bin at it about fifteen minutes we held a sort of informal truce, just arter a simultaneous exchange of compliments, which left the Doctor layin’ across the grindstone and me astride the pump. It was the first chance I had of gittin’ a fair look at him, since we started in. I see he was punished mi’ty bad. One eye was retirin’ from active service pooty fast, while his face ginnerally looked as if he had bin bobbin’ for pennies in a dish of tomato sauce. I reckon he wasn’t aware he presented such an appearance, for ses he:—

“‘You’re lookin’ mi’ty bad, Dudley, and you mout as well gin up now as any time, for you’ll eventually have to holler.’

“‘If I looked one-half as bad as you do, Doctor, I would holler,’ I answered.

“‘I ginnerally have to look about this bad before my blood gits up to a fightin’ heat,’ he ses detarminedly.

“‘Wal,’ ses I, ‘I’ve fit at every election for the last five years, and last Fourth, put the bully mate of Terre Haute into a coal bunker, blind as a bat, and I cal’late no derned pill-mixer is agwine to git away with me very bad.’

“‘You’ll have to be born ag’in before you can whale me, Dudley,’ he shouted, ‘for I’ll fight while there’s enough blood left in me to lunch a stall-fed musketeer.’

“‘We both suck through the same straw then, Doctor,’ ses I, ‘for I cal’late to stick to you like a poor man’s plaster to a beggar’s ribs or I’ll have the worth of the widder’s chickens out on ye,’ and with that I spit out his finger that I had forgot all about, and the hul time had bin chawin’ like a piece of flag-root, I was so burnin’ mad. I allers will think he would have gin up the fight then, if he hadn’t seen me spit out the finger. He looked down at his maimed hand and then at me, and the awful sight seemed to spur him on ag’in.

“‘You cannibal varmint!’ he hollered, as he edged up to me. ‘I’ll make head-cheese of ye!’ and with that he made a pass at me; so at it we went ag’in, hotter than ever, hands up and heads down like fightin’ wasps, round and about, over the goose-house and wheelbarrow spat-a-te-kick, and down into the sink pool roll-et-e-roll, and the hair was a-flyin’ and the teeth war a-spinnin’. I got in a left-handed wipe on his chin while his mouth was open, swarin’, and I made his jaws snap like a wolf trap, and sent one of his molars a-buzzin’ through the kitchen winder like a bullet from a Springfield muskit.

“I never knowed a man could lose so much blood and stand up arter it, until I had that fight with Dr. Tweezer. The blood was a-flyin’ from him every which way, like the water from a sprinklin’ cart, and yet he wouldn’t holler.

“Arter a while he clinched and throwed me, but I managed to turn him, and commenced to shut off his supply of wind by twistin’ his necktie; but jest as his tongue began to crop out promisin’ly, a couple of fellers drivin’ by in a wagon seen us, and they allowed that I was one of the Doctor’s crazy patients that had got the better of him; so they come runnin’ in with a long rope, and set in to tie me up right thar.

“The plaguey Doctor turned in to help ’em do it, too. I cussed, and hollered, and kicked off both boots, and broke two of my teeth a-grittin’ of ’em, I was so consumin’ mad. But it was no go; I was a-playin’ a lone hand, with both bowers and the ace ag’inst me.

“The fust thing I knew they had me tied hand and foot, and h’isted into thar greasy old meat wagon with some dead hogs.

“‘To the lock-up with him,’ shouted the Doctor, jest bilin’ with rage; ‘he’s crazy as a cow with her horns knocked off.’ They took me thar, sure enough, and I staid thar till midnight before the mistake was known. I was pooty well scratched up, but that Dr. Tweezer was the most horrid sight you ever did see.

“Arter that fight he looked as though he had been the subject in a dissectin’ room, with at least a dozen medical students peelin’ and hackin’ of him in the interests of science. The Doctor allowed that the erysipelas would set in, seein’ thar were so many small veins busted in his face, so he painted it all over with scarlet iodine as a precautionary measure.

“He did look like the very old Nick, and no mistake. His face was fearfully puffed up, you see, and his nose was knocked clear away round to one side. His mouth in particular was a study that a feller couldn’t git familiar with. It was a problem that the more you looked into the more your ideas got confused. It was swelled and twisted and run around, out of all shape and proportion.

“He had the terriblest time you ever heard of gittin’ his victuals into it and fairly started down his throat. Thar he would sit at the table explorin’ about for fully five minutes strivin’ to make the harbor, and when he couldn’t fetch it, he would draw the spoon back and look at it a while, plannin’ another expedition. He knew where his mouth _ought_ to be, you see, and where it _had_ been a few hours before, and to be obliged to canvass the whole of his head to find it, was somethin’ he wasn’t accustomed to.

“It seemed as if he never would git through jabbin’ the spoon about his face, and when he would finally strike the openin’, it would be away round on one side of his head, so much so in fact, that a person would think he was pourin’ the soup into his ear. He would be all hunkadory then durin’ the remainder of that meal, but the next time he would come to the table, the same performance would have to be gone through with.

“He couldn’t keep run of the thing, nohow. It was here to-day and somewhere else to-morrow, like a wrinkle in a shirt.

“The swellin’ kept shiftin’ and undulatin’ about continually, down in one place and up in another, all within an hour, and that would shove the mouth away down along the neck somewhere, or clear across to the other side of the head, perhaps.

“The family would be sittin’ thar eatin’ no more than he was, they would be so busily engaged watchin’ his singular manœuverin’, and it would make him so roarin’ mad that he would send ’em all away from the table.

“He tried to eat by the aid of a small lookin’ glass, but that didn’t work any better than goin’ it blind. When he saw how disfigured every feature was, his appetite would begin to git away from him pooty lively, and he would sling the glass into the corner, and fall to denouncin’ me like a crazy bush-whacker.

“The yard, too, was a sight; everythin’ in it was painted and scratched and painted ag’in.

“Old Mrs. Sharron—who was allers a-smellin’ around about butcherin’ time, on the lookout for a fresh morsel—was gwine by the Doctor’s the next mornin’, and she noticed the blood and ha’r a-stickin’ to the chips and pump handle, and she allowed he had killed his spring pig, so she dropped in to ask him for the ears and a piece of the liver.

“The Doctor thought she was runnin’ him on his late skirmish, and you never see a man fly into such a passion in all your born days.

“He jumped up and pulled his pizen pump out of a drawer, and ses he: ‘You old faded remnant! you scollop! you creasy old cinder of an incendi’ry fire!’ he contin’ed, jest that way, ‘I’ll gin ye jest seven seconds to git out of my house in, or I’ll hoist the gizzard out of ye mi’ty quick!’

“Jehominy! wasn’t she skeered, though? You never see a cat git from under a stove quicker when a pot biles over, than she got out of that house.

“So Dr. Tweezer didn’t speak very highly of me, eh? Wal, now you kind o’ know the reason, don’t ye?”

MY NEIGHBOR WORSTED.

As I look from my window I am surprised at the change the last half hour has wrought upon my neighbor and his immediate surroundings. At that time he emerged from the shed in which he keeps his extra household furniture, with a length of stove-pipe and an elbow under his arms. They were apparently just the things he needed to tone down the draught of his new stove, and shoot the sparks clear of the banker’s eaves.

I think I never saw him look better-natured than at that moment. His face was clear and unruffled as a woodland pool. His children played around him with unsuspecting minds and unlimited speech. The household cat, with all confidence in his noble nature, familiarly rubbed her ribs against his leg, as he for a moment stood deciding which end of the length to introduce to the elbow. Even the old hen roosting on the enclosure seemed to settle her head into her body with more than ordinary satisfaction as she regarded the complacent scene beneath her.

But half an hour ago all was peace, confidence and love, and now what a change is here! I hear the children, but see them not. Their plaintive wail reminds me how often laughter is the harbinger of tears. The hen with ruffled feathers and outstretched neck stands aloof upon the ridge of a distant dwelling. The household cat that had grown old in the family, and had good reason to believe herself privileged, purrs no more. She has painful reasons to think otherwise now, as she crouches in the most retired corner of the premises, assiduously applying whatever balm her tongue affords to injured parts. She doubtless muses how heavier than an infant’s spoon it is to feel an adult’s boot.

Yet my neighbor was neither rash nor hasty.

He seemed the embodiment of perseverance, as he repeatedly offered that length of stove-pipe an elbow which it, like a prudish maiden, provokingly refused. Soon the drops of perspiration began to stand upon his face and neck in large globes, and I knew that patience was oozing from every pore. I knew by the scattering children, the cackling hen, and the flying household cat, that the “rose-lipped cherubim” of which the poet sings, were abiding with him no longer.

Presently his wife came to his assistance with a case-knife, and for a time it seemed as though victory would crown their united efforts. Reinforcements turned the tide at Waterloo, and laid proud France at the mercy of Europe, and how often the assistance from the mind or arm of a noble wife rolls back the enemy from the door. But reinforcements could not mend the matter here. The poor woman soon retired from the scene with wounded fingers and damaged pride.

My neighbor himself has ceased to strive. Flattened, kicked, and abandoned, the pipes lie masters of the situation.

Ah! I am fully persuaded that neither depth of affliction, nor height of impudence, nor length of trial, nor breadth of argument, nor extravagance, nor parsimony, nor things in particular, nor things in general, can begin to compare, as triers of patience, with a couple of old frill-edged stove-pipes, that emphatically set their edge against a union.

THE BREATHING SPELL.

As some lone reaper, tanned and sore, Doth pause to glance his acres o’er, Comparing what hath passed his hands With what before him bristling stands— Behind him lie the shocks and sheaves, While like a sea before him heaves, Far over valley, hill and plain, The waving heads of waiting grain— So pause I now, when half way through This growing book, my task to view; Behind lie many a sketch and line; Before me, countless pages shine; Behind, the thoughts are shaped and bound; Before, they float in freedom round.

And as that reaper stoops again To throw his hook around the grain, And sinks amid the sea of gold, To rise when hands no longer hold; So bend I to my task anew, And undismayed my course pursue, ’Till clip on clip, and sheaf on sheaf, Shall bear me to the farthest leaf.

A VISIT TO BENICIA.

To-day I had occasion to visit Benicia. The place is situated on the Straits of Carquinez. Not far from the town the Government Arsenal and Barracks are situated. And as a striking proof of the loyal and law-abiding spirit of the citizens, I may mention the fact, that all the government property above alluded to is defended by two soldiers, a corporal—who, by the way, has a wooden leg—and a high private.