Part 93 (1/2)

Decision came to Job's help--at least help out of that field. At this very moment of need for some one to help him decide what course to pursue, a ferocious bull, feeding in the next meadow, annoyed or scandalized by the appearance of Job, scaled the low fence, and with one bellow, ran full tilt after Job, who hesitated no longer, but leaped the rail fence just as the animal made a lunge at him. Job reached the highway in safety of person, though the bull retreated with a full square yard of the false flag of truce upon his horns.

Job's dest.i.tution seemed perfect without this last affliction. The sound of carriage wheels startled him, but to where should he flee? He was at the zero of his fortunes. He was naked, hungry, penniless. Where should he find one friend.

”Ah! the river!” That would hide him forever from the uncharitable world!...

Job crawled across the field, and was already near the stream.

What! Had some pitying angel, softened by Job's utter dest.i.tution and despair, alighted amongst the bushes! Or was it a temptation of the devil?

Reader, ”put yourself in”--No! But imagine Job reduced to the moiety of a s.h.i.+rt, about to take the fatal plunge, when lo! he discovers just before him, lying,--a golden waif,--a very handsome suit of clothes,--hat, breeches, hose, shoes, gloves, cane, cravat! and no visible second person near.

Job's perplexity was brief. He seated himself on the gra.s.s. He changed his equivocal s.h.i.+rt for the ample piece of ruffled ”aired-snow” in the twinkling of an eye; donned the stockings and breeches,--”just a fit,”--waistcoat, and coat, seized the hat, gloves, cravat, and cane, and in three minutes he was back on the main road. The swimmer must have been just Job's size, so admirably did the whole wardrobe fit and become him.

Again Job pa.s.sed the five-barred gate, where stood the bull, with glaring eyes, waving in vain the flag of truce upon his horns.

Job journeyed onward, waving his cane, and smiling in supreme contempt at the bit of rag which so recently proclaimed his crime and wretchedness. He put his hand into _his_ pocket, and pulled out a _purse_! It contained eight guineas! This was too much. Job fell upon his knees in the highway, overcome with grat.i.tude, and holding up the purse in his left hand, placing the other over his stomach, he ”blessed his lucky stars” for his propitious change of fortunes.

Here we bid adieu to the barber-bleeders. Those who wish to know how the swimmer came out, must consult ”Men of Character,” by Jerrold.

THE USE OF BRAINS.

Mr. G. H. Lewes tells a story of a gentleman who, under the scissors, said something about his thinning locks being caused by the development of his brains. ”Excuse me, sir,” remarked the barber, ”but you are laboring under a mistake. The brains permeate the skull, and encourage the growth of the hair--_that's what they're for, sir_.”

[Ill.u.s.tration]

XXIX.

THE OMNIUM GATHERUM.

EX-SELL-SIR!--”THE OBJECT TO BE ATTAINED.”--A NOTORIOUS FEMALE DOCTOR.--A WHITE BLACK MAN.--SQUASHY.--MOTHER'S FOOL.--WHO IT WAS.--THE PHILOSOPHER AND HIS DAUGHTER.--EDUCATION AND GIBBERISH.--SCOTTISH HOSPITALITY.--THE OLD LADY WITH AN ANIMAL IN HER STOMACH.--STORIES ABOUT LITTLE FOLKS.--THE BOY WITH A BULLET IN HIM.--CASE OF SMALL-POX.--NOT MUCH TO LOOK AT.--FUNERAL ANTHEMS.

EX-SELL-SIR.

The morning sun was s.h.i.+ning bright, As lone upon old Georgetown's height, A Bliss-ful doctor, clad in brown, Desiring wealth and great renown, Displayed aloft to wondering eyes A shrub which bore this strange device, Cundurango!

A maiden fair, with pallid cheek, With ardent haste his aid did seek To stay the progress and the pain Of carcinoma of the brain; While still aloft the shrub he bore, The answer came, with windy roar, To Cundurango!

A matron old, with long unrest From carcinoma of the breast, This Bliss-ful doctor rushed to see, And begged his aid on bended knee.

The magic shrub waved still on high, And rushed through air the well-known cry, Try Cundurango!

The evening sun went down in red-- The maid and matron both were dead; And yet, through all the realms around, This worthless shrub, of mighty sound, Will serve to fill the purse forlorn, And the cancer succ.u.mb ”in a horn”

To Cundurango.

THE OBJECT TO BE ATTAINED.