The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 13, September, 1835Various
History
The Southern Literary Messenger, Vol. I., No. 13, September, 1835
Various
American literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals
It has been before hinted that at sight of this extraordinary
assembly, and of their still more extraordinary paraphernalia, our two
seamen did not conduct themselves with that proper degree of decorum
which might have been expected. Legs, having leant himself back
against the wall, near which he happened to be standing, dropped his
lower jaw still lower than usual, and spread open his eyes to their
fullest extent: while Hugh Tarpaulin, stooping down so as to bring his
nose upon a level with the table, and spreading out a palm upon either
knee, burst into a long, loud, and obstreperous roar of very ill-timed
and immoderate laughter.
Without, however, taking offence at behavior so excessively rude, the
tall president smiled very graciously upon the intruders--nodded to
them in a dignified manner with his head of sable plumes--and,
arising, took each by an arm, and led him to a seat which some others
of the company had placed in the meantime for his accommodation. Legs
to all this offered not the slightest resistance, but sat down as he
was directed--while the gallant Hugh removing his coffin-tressel from
its station near the head of the table, to the vicinity of the little
consumptive lady in the winding-sheet, plumped down by her side in
high glee, and, pouring out a scull of red wine, drank it off to their
better acquaintance. But at this presumption the stiff gentleman in
the coffin seemed exceedingly nettled, and serious consequences might
have ensued, had not the president, rapping upon the table with his
truncheon, diverted the attention of all present to the following
speech:
"It becomes our duty upon the present happy occasion"----
"Avast there!"--interrupted Legs looking very serious--"avast there a
bit, I say, and tell us who the devil ye all are, and what business ye
have here rigged off like the foul fiends, and swilling the snug 'blue
ruin' stowed away for the winter by my honest shipmate Will Wimble the
undertaker!"
At this unpardonable piece of ill-breeding, all the original company
half started to their feet, and uttered the same rapid succession of
wild fiendish shrieks which had before caught the attention of the
seamen. The president, however, was the first to recover his
composure, and at length, turning to Legs with great dignity,
recommenced.
"Most willingly will we gratify any reasonable curiosity on the part
of guests so illustrious, unbidden though they be. Know then that in
these dominions I am monarch, and here rule with undivided empire
under the title of 'King Pest the First.'
"This apartment which you no doubt profanely suppose to be the shop of
Will Wimble the undertaker--a man whom we know not, and whose plebeian
appellation has never before this night thwarted our royal ears--this
apartment, I say, is the Dais-Chamber of our Palace, devoted to the
councils of our kingdom, and to other sacred and lofty purposes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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