Lippincott's Magazine, August, 1885 by Various


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Page 60

We found him waiting for us at the foot of the Academy of Music stairs,
with a cigar in his mouth and one for each of us in his hand, and we
knew from experience that his case was filled with a reserve.

"It's a pleasant night, boys, isn't it?" he said, looking up at the
stars (wonderfully bright they were in the clear, cold atmosphere) as we
went, crunching the snow under our feet, along the deserted streets to
the little back-entrance we knew of to Bertrand's.

"Yes," said Perry; "but you missed the best thing of the whole circus by
leaving before Colonel Bouteille made his speech in favor of the
prohibition amendment." And he gave a _r�sum�_ of the colonel's
laughable sophistry for George's benefit,--and for mine as well, for I
had paid no attention to the old toper's remarks.

We could see the glimmer of lights behind the shutters of the faro-room
over Sudden's saloon and hear the rattle of the ivory counters as we
passed.

"Do you ever go up there?" asked George, interrupting Perry.

"Why, yes; sometimes," we answered.

"Play a little now and then? I suppose?"

"We don't like to loaf around such a place," said Perry rather grandly,
considering our circumstances, "without putting down a few dollars."

"That's all right," said George; "but once or twice is enough, boys.
After you have seen what the thing is like, keep away from the tiger.
She is a greedy beast, and always hungry; and of course you can't think
of sitting down at a poker-table with the professional players."

Direct advice was rather a new strain for Randall, and we were not
surprised when he dropped it abruptly as we filed into a little private
room at the restaurant.

"Yes, I fancy old Bouteille might have made a humorous speech," he said,
after ordering the oysters. "Three?" he added, looking at me, "or four?"

"Quarts?" I asked in reply.

George nodded.

"Two, I should say."

"Oh, bother!" exclaimed Perry. "We should only have to trouble the
waiter again."

So George ordered four bottles of beer.

"It's after ten o'clock, sir," said the waiter doubtfully. It is
needless to say that he was a new one.

"That's the reason we came here," answered George, with a calm manner of
assumption that dissipated the waiter's doubts while it evidently filled
him with remorse. "Where's Auguste?"

"He's gone to bed, sir; but I guess 'twill be all right." And the waiter
started to fetch the beer.

"I should think so," growled Perry.

"I suppose it is not good form to drink beer with oysters," I suggested
mildly.

"I don't know, I'm sure," said George.

"I suppose not," said Perry; "they go so well together. I hope it isn't,
at any rate: I like to do things that are bad form."

So I relapsed into silence, and my speculations about George's outbreak
against gambling, and Mrs. Herbert's beautiful face and sad eyes, and
Lucretia Knowles's wicked light-heartedness.

When we had finished eating and had opened the last bottle of beer, I
asked George, as he stopped his talk with Perry for a moment to relight
his cigar, who Mrs. Herbert was.

"She is the noblest and most unfortunate woman in the world," he
replied, "I will tell you her story some time, perhaps."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Mon 12th Jan 2026, 2:39