Domestic fiction; Short stories; Suburban life -- Fiction
My acquaintance was, as the reader will be glad to learn, a native
American, though it is to be regretted, for the sake of facts which his
case went far to establish, that he was not a New-Englander by birth.
The most that could be claimed was, that he came to Boston from Delaware
when very young, and that there on that brine-washed granite he had
grown as perfect a flower of helplessness and indolence, as fine a fruit
of maturing civilization, as ever expanded or ripened in Latin lands.
He lived, not only a protest in flesh and blood against the tendency of
democracy to exclude mere beauty from our system, but a refutation
of those Old World observers, who deny to our vulgar and bustling
communities the refining and elevating grace of Repose. There was
something very curious and original in his character, from which the
sentiment of shame was absent, but which was not lacking in the fine
instincts of personal cleanliness, of dress, of style. There was nothing
of the rowdy in him; he was gentle as an Italian noble in his manners:
what other traits they may have had in common, I do not know; perhaps an
amiable habit of illusion. He was always going to bring me his discharge
papers, but he never did, though he came often and had many a pleasant
night's sleep at my cost. If sometimes he did a little work, he spent
great part of the time contracted to me in the kitchen, where it was
understood, quite upon his own agency, that his wages included board. At
other times, he called for money too late in the evening to work it out
that day, and it has happened that a new second girl, deceived by
his genteel appearance in the uncertain light, has shown him into the
parlor, where I have found him to his and my own great amusement, as
the gentleman who wanted to see me. Nothing else seemed to raise his
ordinarily dejected spirits so much. We all know how pleasant it is to
laugh at people behind their backs; but this veteran afforded me at a
very low rate the luxury of a fellow-being whom one might laugh at to
his face as much as one liked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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