United States or Liberia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Tiffles had already borrowed from Overtop and Maltboy, but had generously spared the oldest of the three bachelors. Marcus felt that his time had come, and he would not meanly avoid his destiny. He placed the money in Tiffles's hand. "Give you my note?" asked Tiffles. "Oh, no!" said Marcus; "make it a matter of honor."
Patching, the artist, was then interrogated, to the extent of two minutes, and corroborated Tiffles's testimony as to the sad and strange appearance of Mr. Wilkeson on the day after the supposed murder. Patching was then informed by the coroner that his further attendance at the inquest would not be required.
The coward son could not endure that terrible visitation of parental wrath, and fled, without another word, from the shop. Old Van Quintem fell exhausted upon the strong shoulder of the boy Bog. "Henceforth," said he, "you you shall be my son." The "Cosmopolitan Window Fastener" was a veritable success. For the first time in his life, Mr. Wesley Tiffles's theories had been demonstrated by results.
He never made impertinent observations of that sort. "Unwell?" said Tiffles. "I had not noticed it. In the morning, all New York looks as if it had just come out of a debauch. Wilkeson will pass, I guess." This calumny upon the city was Tiffles's favorite bit of satire, and it had cheered up many a poor fellow who thought himself looking uncommonly haggard.
Marcus Wilkeson, speaking for self and friends, said he had no doubt of that. Mr. Tiffles's ideas always possessed the merit of novelty. "That means that they have no other merit!" returned Tiffles, laughing, "Very true of most of them, I confess all my failures. But here is an idea which even you, skeptic as you are, will grant to be not only novel, but great.
The latter gentleman shook the member feebly, and distinctly felt the sharp edge of the long finger nail in his palm. It was an unpleasant sensation. "Happy to meet a confidential friend of Tiffles's," said Patching. "Painting panoramas is not exactly what I have been used to. An artist's reputation is his capital in trade, you know."
Tiffles's observations were cut short by the sudden entrance of Miss Philomela Wilkeson. She shot rapidly into the room, but, when her eyes rested on Mr. Tiffles, she recoiled with maiden modesty, and stepped back as if to beat a retreat.
Luck changed again, and brought in the landlord, Mr. Persimmon, P.M., Mr. Boolpin, and three more free tickets, with their wives and families. Mr. Boolpin whispered in Tiffles's ear, that he hoped there wouldn't be a row; but it was a hard-looking crowd that had just gone in ahead of him. And there were plenty more of them coming. The latter observation proved true.
But neither of the three bachelors had yet sustained that pecuniary tax which Wesley Tiffles always levied upon his friends, just before leaving them forever. They formed a part of his reserve corps, which had latterly been sadly thinned out in Mr. Tiffles's desperate contest with the world. Mr.
"Got your match, old boy!" "Oh! let the man go on!" The last remark issued from the gentlemanly conductor, and fell with peculiar pleasure on Tiffles's ears. "One word more, and I am done," resumed the lawyer, who was professionally calm amid scenes of disturbance. "I only wish to elicit the truth. We wish to understand that point!" "We have, both of us, gone over this scenery repeatedly."
Word Of The Day