The White Rose of MemphisFalkner, William C. (Clark)
General
The White Rose of Memphis
Falkner, William C. (Clark)
Memphis (Tenn.) -- Fiction
feet, and if I do say it myself, I am very active, for a young girl. But
let that pass, for I know it does not interest you. Miss Bramlett was
walking rapidly down the street when I got over the palings, some fifty
or sixty yards from me. I soon shortened the distance between us, being
careful to avoid the faint light from the lamp on the opposite side of
the street. The lamp-posts were very far apart, and the streets were
deserted. The lamps appeared quite feeble, and the light did not
interfere with my movements. When Miss Bramlett reached the next block
she disappeared round the corner, and I was afraid she had escaped me
entirely; but I hastened to the corner, and was delighted to see her
within twenty paces of me. The first alley she reached she turned into
and again disappeared, but I soon caught sight of her again, and kept
close behind her until she came to the private entrance of Ben Bowles’
gambling hell. She stood before it a moment, then went in, and the door
closed behind her. Now, Doctor Demar, what do you think of such doings
as that? Can’t you see that she is a very wicked woman? It is no use to
say that she is innocent--for I tell you she is guilty, and ought to be
hung. All the lawyers in the world can’t save her neck. Oh, it makes the
cold chills run up my back to think of that girl’s wickedness!’
“‘Miss Clattermouth made me promise not to talk much, and I must keep my
promise--it is my character to keep my word. I despise people who
disregard the advice of friends. Miss Clattermouth has been a true
friend to me--indeed, she has! I admire such friends. Did you ever see
the darling poodle she gave me? Oh, he is such a sweet little fellow! I
must show him to you by all means. I think he is asleep under the sofa
there. I hate to disturb him, though--because he always frets so when
his naps are broken; but I guess he has got his nap nearly out by this
time. Here, Tottie! here, Tottie! Come along and let the doctor see
you.’ The individual alluded to came crawling out from under the sofa. I
suppose he would have weighed at least eight ounces avoirdupois. He was
covered with wool as white as snow. ‘Come along, darling; don’t be
bashful; let the doctor see you.’
“He started toward the bed where his mistress was, but came to a broom
handle that unfortunately had been left on the floor,--he couldn’t jump
over it, and didn’t have sense enough to go round it; but he began to
scream with great vigor, and I had to help him over it. I sat him on the
bed by his mistress, and I am not ashamed to say that I gave him such a
squeeze that he was unable to yell any more for some time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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