"Botts had been with a number of boon-companions at a tavern in Mapleton, and had put himself in an abnormal condition by the consumption of a considerable quantity of fluids. As you see, he is no Adonis when sober; but when inebriated, his ugly visage would endanger the safety of a mirror at the distance of twelve paces. In the afternoon he was standing in the street alone when he happened to see his own shadow, and was so startled by its unexampled ugliness that he made a tremendous leap to the right. The hideous apparition made a dart after him. Botts jumped to the left; but the frightful spectre sprang at him again." "Ha, ha, ha! Toney, you will murder me!" "Botts had often heard that drunken men would sometimes have _delirium tremens_, and see devils. He thought _delirium_ was coming on him, and that his ugly shadow was a fiend." "No wonder! no wonder! What did he do?" "He uttered a yell that set all the dogs in the town to barking, and took to his heels up the street. Each time he looked around he beheld a horrible devil following him, and at the sight he would give another yell, and redouble his efforts to escape. Soon half the men and boys in the town were after him. Away went Botts, and brought up at a doctor's shop. He fell on the floor in a fit, and it was a long time before he could be restored to consciousness. His ugly shadow had nearly been the death of him." "And you will be the death of me, if you tell any more such stories. But who is that large man, with the bald head, who is jumping about among the dancers with a bunch of flowers in his hand? He has no partner but seems to be exercising his legs in sympathy with those who are really dancing. No! I was mistaken,--he has a partner, but the lady's pretty figure is so small that I could only see the top of her head, which is covered with scarlet verbenas and a profusion of roses; and I was under the illusion that the big man was going it alone with a magnificent bouquet in his grasp. Toney, do tell me, who is that man? He seems to be a great admirer of beauty, and has been flitting about among the ladies like a large bumble-bee in search of the sweetest and most delicious flowers." "That is M. T. Pate, a distinguished lawyer, an eloquent orator, an able writer, a profound thinker, and the prince of lady-killers. He is possessed of a very original genius, and has recently written a remarkable pamphlet, in which is demonstrated the possibility as well as the immense importance of draining the Atlantic Ocean, and converting its rich alluvial bottoms into cultivated corn-fields." "How does he propose to accomplish this stupendous undertaking?"