The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman PotterAdams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
General
The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter
Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
Political fiction
And now, news of his approach having got spread abroad, he had
scarcely entered the outskirts of the town when little Barnstable,
hatless and shoeless, came running to meet him, cheering, clambering
upon his wagon, and making such other demonstrations of welcome as
satisfied the major that the town had waited his return with no
little anxiety, though it annoyed old Battle exceedingly, for he had
great difficulty in drawing the load over the sand. Seeing the
distress the animal was in, two mischievous urchins fell upon him,
seized him by the halter, and, after throwing it over their
shoulders, were joined by some two dozen more, who ran ahead
dragging him by the mouth, while three others plied his belly with
switches. The major, in the meantime, continued to contemplate the
fortune there was in a pig so learned, and who was now mingling his
loudest squeals with the cheers and bravos of the urchins, until the
very welkin rang with their echoes. We proceeded according to old
Battle's slow pace to what I shall for convenience sake call the
Independent Temperance Hotel, the guests of which were so alarmed at
the strange noises in the streets that they came running out to
ascertain the cause.
"Well, I'm back again, you see! and as for the rest, you may find
that out!" exclaimed the major, cracking his whip, and declaring he
would give the urchins three stripes apiece unless they ceased
teasing old Battle, whom he now reined up in front of a large
portico that opened into a spacious hall of the hotel. The
bystanders, among whom there was a lawyer or two, as well as another
species of hanger-on about a country tavern, sent up three loud and
long cheers, which brought the major's friends in a crowd about the
door. The major raised his hat, acknowledged the compliment with his
usual grace, and dismounted over the wheel, displaying as he did so,
the pins that had served to protect his dignity. But of this he was
unconscious, and bidding me follow, he waddled into the house, an
expression of gladness lighting up his broad red face, and saluting
his friends, not one of whom said a word touching the condition of
his garments.
"Major! is it you? Well, there ain't nobody more welcome in this
hotel!" exclaimed a small, frisky figure, rushing through the crowd,
and seizing him earnestly by the hand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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