Somebody's Luggage

“Pretty well, sir.” I followed him so far as to judge that he had a weak head, and that the Orange, the Boiling, and Old Brown combined was beginning to tell. (The Old Brown, being heady, is best adapted to seasoned cases.)

“Years elapsed, and those compositions slumbered in dust. At length, Destiny, choosing her agent from all mankind, sent You here, Christopher, and lo! the Casket was burst asunder, and the Giant was free!”

He made hay of his hair after he said this, and he stood a-tiptoe.

“But,” he reminded himself in a state of excitement, “we must sit up all night, my Christopher. I must correct these Proofs for the press. Fill all the inkstands, and bring me several new pens.”

He smeared himself and he smeared the Proofs, the night through, to that degree that when Sol gave him warning to depart (in a four-wheeler), few could have said which was them, and which was him, and which was blots. His last instructions was, that I should instantly run and take his corrections to the office of the present Journal. I did so. They most likely will not appear in print, for I noticed a message being brought round from Beauford Printing House, while I was a throwing this concluding statement on paper, that the ole resources of that establishment was unable to make out what they meant. Upon which a certain gentleman in company, as I will not more particularly name, – but of whom it will be sufficient to remark, standing on the broad basis of a wave-girt isle, that whether we regard him in the light of, —[3 - The remainder of this complimentary parenthesis editorially struck out.] laughed, and put the corrections in the fire.

notes

1

Its name and address at length, with other full particulars, all editorially struck out.

2

The remainder of this complimentary sentence editorially struck out.

3

The remainder of this complimentary parenthesis editorially struck out.