Duff Green, as if to observe the effect of his Calhoun-Van Buren shot,
would call upon the General. It was my guardian Jim who told me of that
visit.
“I was sort o' knockin' 'round,” said Jim, “like a blind dog in a meat
shop, when dish yere Duff Green gentleman tells me to give you 'Howdy!'
an' say he's waitin' to see you-all.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He's pervadin' about d'big Eas' Room,” returned Jim, “when I 'bandons
him.”
Duff Green extended his fishy hand; but I did not see it, my eyes being
employed upon his face; and that with so cold an industry it served to
turn the violin red of it to apoplectic purple for uneasiness and rage.
“I offer you my hand, sir,” cried Duff.
“Sir,” said I, “in requital, I offer you a sentence of counsel. Be out
of that door, and do not enter it again until your friend Calhoun is
master in this house. But stay; I have another order for your ear. Do
not, by word or look or act, whether to me or to any man, make claim on
my acquaintance. I will not agree as to the measure of my resentment in
case you do.”
“Sir, is this an insult?”
“Sir, you will please yourself for a term.”
“And, sir,”--Duff Green's voice quavered a trifle--“am I to consider
this the action of the president?”
“I think it would be wise to do so,” I retorted, “since you would seem
to stand even lower in his graces than you do in mine. I argue this
from a comparison of our remarks upon you.” I was enough the savage
to delight in harassing the pursy Duff and in diminishing his brow
of consequence. “I did but casually describe you--being idle at the
time--as a bloated spider, sucking patronage, and with a newspaper to be
your web, when he would correct me. 'You do the dog a compliment,' said
he. 'Now, one might conceive of a spider that should be of some moment.
He whom we call Duff Green is no such thing. He is nothing; or at most
a vacuum, which is nothingness given a name--as it were, an im-ponderous
absence of overpowering unimportance.'”
“Them's mighty fine words, Marse Major, you-all flings loose,” said Jim,
when Duff Green quit the field. Jim, whose care concerning me was only
equaled by his curiosity, stood, of course, in close attendance upon the
colloquy. “Yas-sir,” he continued, “them's what Jim calls langwidge of
d'good ol' Cumberland kind. That Duff Green gentleman shore misses it
a mile when he comes pawin' 'round for to 'spute with you. Yes, indeed,
Marse Major, that's whar he drap his water-million!”
When I repeated my interview with Duff to the General, together with
Jim's comments of admiration, and we had had our laugh, the General
turned serious:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account