The History and Records of the Elephant Club — John Shaqi
The History and Records of the Elephant ClubDoesticks, Q. K. Philander
General
The History and Records of the Elephant Club
Doesticks, Q. K. Philander
American wit and humor
The Higholdboy raised himself from his official seat before the window,
turned round, got on his knees in the chair, leaned his head on his
hands and his arms on the chair-back, and whilst everybody was still and
quiet, he called out, in a stentorian voice, "Order." The effect of this
peremptory demand was to induce considerable disorder, as no one was
willing to be regarded out of order, even by implication, without some
foundation. Everybody talked and nobody listened, except Mr. Dropper,
and it was not until Mr. Quackenbush had stuffed a ham sandwich down the
throat of the Higholdboy, thrown a box of sardines at the head of Van
Dam, tipped over the timid Boggs, and poured a lemonade down the throat
of Johnny Cake, that they would consent to hear what he desired to say.
"Gentlemen," said Quackenbush, "that's a remarkably fine story, isn't
it?"
"Des'say," said Spout.
"Werry like," responded Van Dam.
"Mebbee," replied Johnny Cake.
"Likely," remarked Boggs, as he picked himself up, preparatory to
letting himself down in three chairs.
Mr. Spout left his chair, and moved to that particular locality in the
apartment where the bell-pull, leading to the bar below, was situated.
He gave sundry pulls in accordance with the previously-arranged system
of telegraphing, and in a few minutes they were answered by a young
gentleman, with a tin waiter in his hands, on which were placed divers
decoctions, which stand in better repute outside of total abstinence
societies than inside. Each took his mixture until it came to Johnny
Cake, when the Higholdboy passed over to him a mild beverage, called a
port wine sangaree. Johnny refused to accept it, and announced that he
was strict in his adherence to principle--that he never indulged in
anything which could intoxicate. A lemonade he would indulge in
sometimes, but a port wine sangaree--never--_never_--NEVER.
When Johnny Cake had finished his indignant repudiation of the port wine
sangaree amid the cheering of his fellow members, Mr. James George Boggs
arose. He mounted a chair, and made an effort to speak. He was greeted
with loud applause.
As soon as these manifestations had subsided, he said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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