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Updated: June 8, 2025
Not long had he been standing upon the steps of the Tremont House, when he was accosted by an elderly gentleman of a portly appearance, whom he cordially greeted with every token of familiar friendship. The portly old gentleman was the Honorable Timothy Tickels; he and the Chevalier had long been intimate friends, having frequently met at the house of Mr. Goldworthy.
When she smiled, her lips, like "wet coral," parted, and displayed teeth of dazzling whiteness, and when she laughed, she did so musically. Her hand would have put Lord Byron in extacies, and her taper fingers glittered with costly gems. Such was the glorious creature who entranced the senses of the Honorable Timothy Tickels on entering her luxurious boudoir.
You shall pay dearly for this outrage, damn you!" added the Corporal, again getting into a passion, and turning very red in the face. "But come, my child, let us leave the den of this old hyena, and go to your poor grandfather and little Charley." Mr. Tickels closed the door, and placed his back against it with a determined air.
Tickels arose with difficulty from his prostrate position, rubbing his forehead, which was decorated with a token of the Corporal's vigor, in the shape of a huge bump not included in the science of phrenology. Turning fiercely to the latter gentleman, and quivering with rage, he demanded "Death and fury, sir! how dare you intrude into this room, into this house?
Having greeted Jonas with the assurance of "all right," he quickly entered the cab, and the sable driver started his horse towards Howard street at a slapping pace. In the neighborhood of the Athenaeum, the cab paused, and Mike got out. He was instantly joined by the Hon. Mr. Tickels, who said to Jonas "Drive away, and be on this spot again, with your horse and cab, precisely at twelve o'clock.
An experienced police officer would have instantly pronounced the place a secret den for the printing of counterfeit bank-notes and so it was. The gallant Chevalier was the most expert and dangerous counterfeiter in the country. Seating himself at a trunk, on which stood writing materials, he drew forth the cheque which Mr. Tickels had given him.
Let me no longer play the father; let me be thy lover thy all thy own Timothy thy chosen Tickels! Ah, my bird, have I caught thee at last? thou art mine mine mine " Every circumstance of position and the lady's compliance seemed about to confer upon Mr.
Besides, I am too em bon point for either grace or beauty, and am naturally anxious to conceal that defect." "Defect!" exclaimed Tickels, "if there is one single defect in your glorious person, then is Venus herself a pattern of ugliness. The voluptuous fullness of your form is your most delightful attribute."
Having examined it long and narrowly, he took a pen and paper, and wrote an exact copy of it; this he did so admirably, that Mr. Tickels himself would have been puzzled to point out the original and genuine cheque which he had written.
A silence of some minutes ensued, during which the old libertine continued his longing gaze, while the lady took up and fondly caressed a beautiful little lap-dog, whose snowy fleece was prettily set off by a silver collar, musical with bells. How Tickels envied the little animal, when its mistress placed it in her bosom, and bestowed upon it every epithet of tender endearment!
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