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Updated: May 25, 2025
Forest and Quackenboss, where we spent the winter of 1854, reality, in the form of multitudinous mates, was to have swarmed about me increasingly: at Forest's the prolonged roll-call in the morning, as I sit in the vast bright crowded smelly smoky room, in which rusty black stove-shafts were the nearest hint of architecture, bristles with names, Hoes and Havemeyers, Stokeses, Phelpses, Colgates and others, of a subsequently great New York salience.
"Who is your folks?" he says. "The Phelpses, down yonder." "Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says: "How'd you say he got shot?" "He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him." "Singular dream," he says. So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. But when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her said she was big enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two.
There seemed to be little use in pursuing the inquiry, so we excused ourselves, much, I thought, to her relief. We found Doctor Forden, who lived on the same street as the Phelpses several squares away, most fortunately at home. Forden was an extremely interesting man, as is, indeed, the rule with physicians.
Unless you leave $5000 in gold in the old stump in the swamp across from the cemetery, you will have reason to regret it. If you respect the memory of the dead, do this, and do it quietly. "Well," I ejaculated, "that's cool. What threat would be used to back this demand on the Phelpses?"
"Who is your folks?" he says. "The Phelpses, down yonder." "Oh," he says. And after a minute, he says: "How'd you say he got shot?" "He had a dream," I says, "and it shot him." "Singular dream," he says. So he lit up his lantern, and got his saddle-bags, and we started. But when he sees the canoe he didn't like the look of her said she was big enough for one, but didn't look pretty safe for two.
I knew that 'Ginette Phelps had been, both as dancer and wife, always the centre of a group of actors, artists, and men of letters as well as of the world and affairs. The Phelpses had lived well, although they were not extremely wealthy, as fortunes go.
Phelps assumed a haughty military attitude, which displayed to advantage his large and imposing form. "Who is this person?" he asked the captain. "Jersey cranberries! Don't you know me? I've heard of the Phelpses ever since I was knee-high to a duck. They are folks nobody need feel ticklish about shaking hands with. You're the only swelled up one of the stock.
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