SCENE II.--_Portico of the Dolphin Inn.

_Enter_ WHETSTONE _and_ BLUEGRASS _in conversation_.

WHETSTONE.

Northlake is a most melancholy man. I believe if he had a warehouse full of anchors, and the market for anchors was booming, he’d be hopelessly unhappy. Said I to him, to-day: Northlake, don’t look so confoundedly gloomy; cheer up! the day I marry your niece Violet, you shall have five hundred thousand dollars.

BLUEGRASS.

His villa looks like the residence of a prince.

WHETSTONE.

So it does; but it is covered with a mortgage from cellar to roof. One month ago Northlake was a rich man, but, leaving his books and plunging into speculation, he lost not only his fortune, but also that of his niece Violet, who is an orphan, and whose fortune was intrusted to his keeping. Her loss seems to trouble him most.

BLUEGRASS.

When did you become acquainted with him?

WHETSTONE.

Last summer, when they were travelling in the West. I had some business with him, and I then got a glance at his niece. I have since corresponded with him. When I met him to-day he had a book in his hand. I asked him, What’s that book? He replied, It’s a work on speculative philosophy. Said I, Throw it away, and study the market quotations and crops; that’s the kind of speculative philosophy you need.

BLUEGRASS.

What did he say to that?

WHETSTONE.

He opened his book and commenced reading. Said I: Close your book. I don’t understand it, and I don’t want to. I’ve made you a business proposition that’s worth more than all your books. I’ve got the booty, and you’ve got the beauty. Is it a trade?

_Enter_ PUNCH, _who tries to overhear the conversation_.

BLUEGRASS.

How did that impress him?

WHETSTONE.

He replied, You shall have her, but you must first woo her as a tender and gallant lover should, and thus win also her dower of tenderness and fancy.

BLUEGRASS.

How did that strike you?

WHETSTONE.

Oh, said I, I’ll show my good points. I’m rich, noble, and good; she’ll have me.

BLUEGRASS.

How did that affect him?

WHETSTONE.

Come, Whetstone, said he, you’re a practical man. The most practical man in love is the most fanciful. Come to the masquerade to-night in a heroic character.--And I’m going.

BLUEGRASS.

What kind of a hero will you assume to be?

WHETSTONE.

Oh, any kind, just so it’s a hero. I can outdo any of them.

BLUEGRASS [_perceiving_ PUNCH].

Hello! my friend, can you tell us where to get masquerade suits?

PUNCH.

Yonder, gentlemens. [_Pointing to a neighboring shop._] I recommends him. He is a good neighbor and an honest man. Good day, gentlemens.

[PUNCH _slips into his shop by a side door_.

WHETSTONE [_reading the sign over the door_].

Peter Punch. Masquerade Suits and Unk-Weed Liniment. For sale or rent.--That’s a queer sign!

BLUEGRASS.

They are well suited; for the liniment is a lining under the suits.

[_They enter the shop by front door._