Part 64 (1/2)
The writer is well acquainted with W., who a.s.sured him this was true.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
I heard, while in the South, of a doctor, a little, short man, who rode a Canadian horse, a scraggy little specimen, and who, in yellow fever time, used to ride right straight into a drug store, and order his prescription, catch it up, wheel his pony round on his hind legs, stick in the spurs into the flanks of the animal, and go out in a clean gallop.
[Ill.u.s.tration: NO TIME TO LOSE.]
Though the writer never saw this remarkable feat, there is one more ludicrous, to which he was an eye-witness.
One fine day, while in Charleston, sitting musing in the window of the Victoria Hotel, I saw an African, with bare feet and legs, his whole attire consisting of a coa.r.s.e s.h.i.+rt and brief trousers, drive a mule attached to a dray, on which was a box, up towards a milliner's store, opposite. The negro jumped from the dray, and, with whip in hand, ran into the store to ascertain if that was the place to leave the box.
[Ill.u.s.tration: BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.]
The faithful donkey followed his master directly into the store, nor stopped till the wheels of the cart brought up against the door-jambs. The ladies, with whom the front store was crowded, screamed with terror, and fled towards the back room, where the pretty milliner girls were sewing.
They caught the panic and sight of the donkey's head and ears in the front shop, and screeched in chorus. A more lively and lovely stampede I never witnessed. It was ”Beauty and the Beast,” and the beast stood pulling his best to get the cart through; but since a six-foot cart never could go through a four foot doorway, he backed out with the negro's a.s.sistance, and Beauty was rescued from the perilous situation.
”Golly!” exclaimed the Buckee, when himself, mule and cart were back into the street. ”I fought de ladies were scared ob dis chile, first sight; but I never knowed de ladies to be scared ob a hansum darky like me; and when I looked round an' see dat ar' mules coming into der mill'ner's store--O, yah, yah, yah! I shall die--O, yah, yah, yah!--de Lor'--to only fink ob it, a mule in a mill'ner's shop--he wants muslin--O, yah, yah! I shall die, sure.” Then, after a few more outbursts, he stopped short--for the milliner was looking after the box--he rolled up his eyes very solemnly, and said to the donkey,--
”Yer ought to be 'shamed ob yerself to go into dat yer store--dar, take dat!” levelling a blow at the donkey's head with the whip. Then taking the box into the store, he returned, gave the donkey another solemn lecture on his impropriety, and mounted the dray and drove away.
THE CONSULTING POODLES.
A gentleman well known to the writer a.s.sured me that he once had occasion to repeatedly consult a physician in Philadelphia, a most excellent pract.i.tioner, who owned two pet poodle dogs. They were pure white, and occupied a portion of his office. When I first entered the doctor's presence, I was quite astonished to see, sitting on a corner of his desk, at his left, a beautiful poodle. I thought, at first sight, it was a stuffed specimen; but after inquiring the nature of my visit, the doctor said, ”You can retire, sir.”
”What!” said I, in surprise at this summary dismissal, when I was startled to see the manikin jump from the desk and run away to a crib beside a book-case.
[Ill.u.s.tration: DR. HUNTER IN CONSULTATION.]
”I was speaking to Dr. Scipio,” the doctor quietly remarked. Then adding, ”Dr. Hunter, you can come instead,” when another like poodle came and leaped upon the desk, and sat looking very wisely at his master.
While examining my case, he occasionally cast a glance at ”Dr. Hunter,”
sitting as quiet as a marble dog might, but seeming to understand the look which his master gave him, acknowledging it by a p.r.i.c.king up of the ears.
I received my prescription, and what proved to be most excellent advice, and retired. The next time I visited the eccentric doctor, both Drs.
Scipio and Hunter were in full consultation, sitting side by side on the desk.
”Now, sirs,” said the doctor, after motioning me to a seat near him, ”sirs Scipio and Hunter, keep very still, and give attention.”
A yawning noise and expression was their simultaneous reply.
”What is the object of the two canine specimens being always present when I have consulted you?” I ventured to inquire, on my last visit to the doctor.
”Some physicians consult two-legged pups, in complicated cases. I prefer quadrupeds. Have we not been very successful--myself, Drs. Hunter and Scipio--in your case, sir?”
This he said with a pleasant, half-serious countenance.
”Indeed, you have, sir,” I replied, to which the dogs gave a gap! (a smile?)