The Continental Monthly, Vol. 3, No. 1 January 1863

'I have been glancing over an article called 'Ludicrous Exaggerations,' in Leigh Hunt's Indicator,' replied Gregory, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Ann Harriet did not notice any point to this remark, but said: 'I do not remember having seen that book.'

'What have you been reading lately?' pursued Gregory.

'Oh! I have begun a splendid book that Mrs. Orrin Pendergast lent me; I have forgotten who wrote it, but its name is 'The Bloody Butcher's Bride; or, The Demon of Dandelion Dell.'

Here Gregory was so impolite as to burst into a loud laugh, much to the discomfiture of Ann Harriet, who was on the point of describing a thrilling scene in the story.

'I see nothing to laugh at,' remarked she, solemnly; 'it is a very nice book, Cousin Gregory. Why, some parts of it were so powerful that it made me tremble all over.'

'It must have been powerful,' said Gregory, drily.

'You're a saucy fellow,' said his cousin. 'But, by the way, where is that new suit that was damaged yesterday? You do not look so stylish this morning.'

'Stylish? I hope not. I hate that word; it is only fit to be applied to pigs; they always look sty-lish,' replied Gregory.

The door opened, and the rest of the family appeared, much to Ann Harriet's discomfort, for she liked her cousin, and was just thinking how she could make an impression upon him. The surest way would have been to sit in his lap.

They seated themselves at the table, when the customary question came from Aunt Farnsworth:

'How did you rest last night, Ann Harriet?'

This, of course, called forth the history of the mishaps she had experienced, and the indignation of her uncle and aunt was great when they heard how the occupants of the boarding house had behaved.

'Those young men over there are Boarder Ruffians,' remarked Gregory.

'Mercy!' exclaimed his fat cousin; 'if I had known that, I shouldn't have slept a wink all night. I have heard Miss Pendergast tell about those awful men: she had a sister out in Kansas, and a parcel of Border Ruffians came to her house one Sabbath day and ate up everything she had, and then carried off her cow and five pullets.'

'What cow-ardly and chicken-hearted fellows, to rob a poor woman in that manner!' remarked Gregory, grimly.

'Oh yes,' said Ann Harriet; 'and they spit tobacco juice all over her clean floor, and whittled all over the hearth, and told her it was lucky for her that she was a widow, for if she hadn't been, they would have made her one. I should think you would feel dreadfully to have a whole houseful right opposite.'

'We do feel pretty dreadfully,' replied Gregory; 'often.'

'Miranda, you must have a little company while your cousin is here, and make her acquainted with some of the ladies and gentlemen of the city,' said Aunt Farnsworth.

'I should like to, very much, mother; and if you are willing, I will set about it immediately after breakfast; and perhaps I can arrange things so as to have it to-morrow night,' was Miranda's reply.

This suggestion was eagerly seconded by Gregory, who always enjoyed the social parties that his sister had a peculiar knack in getting up at short notice.

Their pleasant anticipations of the soirée were suddenly checked by quite a melancholy mishap to the solid Ann Harriet. In reaching forward to receive a cup of coffee from her aunt, she was obliged to rise a little from her seat. Now, the chair in which she was sitting had been broken the day before and was glued together, strong enough for any ordinary usage, but wholly inadequate to sustain such a weight as now taxed it; so when Ann 'set back' into the furniture, the already strained joints came apart, and she felt herself descending to the floor; to save herself, she clung to the edge of the table, but, of course, that was no support; on the contrary, it tilted up and launched its whole contents over the prostrate form of the unfortunate Ann Harriet. There she lay, pinned to the floor by the heavy table, while her face and neck and dress were covered with butter, gooseberry pie, hot coffee, broken eggs, and slices of fried ham. The carpet was in a similar condition, and the Old Dominion coffee-pot was found expiring under the sofa.

Mr. Farnsworth, in an attempt to save the table from going over, lost his own balance, and fell flounder-flat on the floor, where he lay shuddering, with his hair in a dish of Shaker apple-sauce: the rest of the family escaped unscathed, but were sadly astonished at the sudden turn things had taken.

Mr. Farnsworth and Gregory raised the fallen table to its former position, and Miranda set about collecting the scattered dishes.

'I knew that we were going to breakfast, but I did not think we should break so fast as that,' remarked Gregory, ruefully.

Ann Harriet, up to this time, had retained her consciousness, when it suddenly occurred to her that, in the stories she had read, the heroines always fainted when anything unusual happened; so she shut up her eyes and began to gasp, just as her uncle and cousin were about to assist her to her feet.

'She is faint; get some water, quick!' exclaimed Miranda.

Gregory seized the 'Old Dominion,' and dashed what coffee there was left in it on Ann's face, then threw on all the cream in the pitcher, and wound up his frightful orgie by emptying over her locks a lot of brown sugar from a bowl which stood near. The effect was that the faint damsel 'came to' very fast, and requested to be helped up. Her aspect was remarkably ludicrous; the moistened sugar, clinging to her hair and plastering up her eyes, caused so much mirth on Gregory's part that he could hardly restrain it within the bounds of politeness.

'Oh, do help me up!' implored Ann Harriet.

Easier said than done. Mr. Farnsworth took hold of one arm, and Gregory the other, but their united effort was not sufficient. Mr. Farnsworth had but recently recovered from an attack of the rheumatism—and apple sauce—and was by no means strong enough for such work; while Gregory was so full of laughter that it deprived him of half his strength. After one or two futile attempts, Miranda had a happy thought: she ran into the parlor and brought out half a dozen thick volumes of music; then Gregory and his father lifted Ann Harriet as far as they could at one effort, while Miranda pushed a book under; at the next lift, a second book was inserted, and this movement was repeated until Ann was seated—alto and allegro—on a pile of six large music books. Aunt Farnsworth then brought a basin of water, and carefully bathed her niece's face, removing all traces of the catastrophe, in which she was assisted by a copious flood of tears from Ann's eyes—so copious, indeed, that Gregory guessed there would be a rainbow when she ceased.

In about twenty minutes 'things were put as near to rights as possible,' but their appetites, like the breakfast, were thoroughly spoilt; so Miranda and her cousin went up stairs to make their plans for the entertainment, which was to be given in honor of the fair Peonytowner. This kept them busy all day; for there was shopping to be done, pastry and cake to be made, dresses to be 'fixed,' and other arrangements, 'too numerous to mention.'

Ann Harriet's thoughts dwelt incessantly on the appointed evening; the iron would then be hot, and she knew that she must strike, or lose a golden opportunity for exchanging the desolate monotony of a heavy single life for the sparkling, honorable, enviable title of wedded wife.

Surely, Ann Harriet, he who leads thee to the altar will possess a brave and stout heart—one on whom you, although fat, can lean, and of whose home you, though heavy, will be the light. You will so fill his heart that there will be no room for discontent, melancholy, or any evil or mischievous visitor. Whoever the fortunate man may be, you can rest assured that you will exceed his greatest expectations, and he will not attempt to exaggerate your charms and attractions.

CHAPTER II'There was music and mirth in the lighted saloon;The measure was merry—our hearts were in tune;While hand linked with hand in the graceful quadrille,Bright joy crowned the dance, like the sun on the rill,And beamed in the dark eyes of coquettes and snobs;But the belle of the hall was Ann Harriet Hobbs.'Mrs. Osgood (with slight variation).

Bright shone the gas at Mr. Farnsworth's on the evening of the grand soirée given for the gratification of Ann Harriet, who was anxious to see some of the beaux of Boston. Both of the parlor chandeliers were in full blaze, much to the delight of Miss Hobbs, who, after gazing at them in admiration, expressed the wish that her friend surnamed Pendergast might see such a sight.

'That takes the shine all off of Miss Pendergasses' double back-action, self-adjusting, anti-corrosive, herring-bone, powerloom lamp, don't it, my dear cousin?' asked Gregory, who had been regaled several times with an account of a wonderful lamp that burnt one hour at a cost of only ten cents, or ten hours at a cost of one cent—Gregory never could remember which.

'Now, Gregory, if you bother me so, I sha'n't tell you anything more; please hand me that fan on the table, and tell me who that man is by the corner of the mantelpiece.'

'That is Captain Dobbs; he is very fond of poetry, and has written some, too; but it was never published, for the editors charged too much for putting it into their papers. Shall I introduce him to you?' said Gregory.

'A captain and a poet, too? Oh, certainly, I should be delighted to know him,' replied Ann Harriet, who began to cool down her countenance by a vigorous application of the fan, while Gregory went after the poetical captain. He was soon back again, and presented him, as follows:

'Captain Dobbs, Miss Hobbs; Miss Hobbs, Captain Dobbs.'

The Captain bowed so low that Ann Harriet could see the brass buttons on the back of his coat, and then, taking her hand, he said, earnestly:

'I rejoice exceedingly that our acquaintance with each other should have commenced under such charming auspices!'

Now, they were standing directly under one of the beautiful chandeliers, which glistened with brilliant pendants; and Ann, supposing that the gallant Captain alluded to them, accordingly replied:

'Yes, they are very charming auspices, and make a beautiful jingle.'

What the Captain really alluded to was the rhyming of their names when Gregory introduced them; the jingle of the rhyme pleased him much, and he regarded it as propitious to their future acquaintance: Ann Harriet's reply happened to suit the case precisely, and placed her in high estimation with the Captain.

Drummond Dobbs was about thirty-two years of age, a gentleman, and a right good fellow, but so very sentimental that few ladies could endure his company. Yet was he anxious to please the fair sex and be popular with them: unfortunately, he supposed that the way to be so was to shower on them love-sick poetry and sentimental speeches; 'he wore his heart upon his sleeve,' fell in love with every new face, and had been rejected a score of times; he comforted himself, however, with the very scaly proverb, 'there is as good fish in the sea as ever was caught,' and—cast in his line for another chance. He had tried poor women and rich women, young school-girls and elastic old maids, brunettes and blondes, but all in vain; and the moment he saw Ann Harriet he determined to make one more attempt to secure a heart that should beat for him alone, an ear that should be ever on the alert for his footstep, and eyes that should sparkle only when he was near.

Ann Harriet, on her part, saw all in Captain Dobbs that she could wish for; and she thought that if she could return to Peonytown with a live captain as her affianced lover, she should be the happiest of fat girls. What a sensation she would create on Sunday, when she went to meeting arm in arm with him, and how the folks would stare at his bright buttons and shoulder straps! She wondered if he would wear a 'trainer hat,' with feathers in it.

To Captain Dobbs, Ann Harriet Hobbs was 'a devilish fine-looking woman;' there was something tangible in a woman like that, sir; she was not one of your flimsy, languid girls, with waist like the stem of a goblet. Somebody had said,'the nearer the bone the sweeter the meat,' but he did not believe in that; he wanted a wife, and if he could get one twice the size of any one else's, so much the better, by Jove!

Gregory, with the tact of Young America, saw instantly what the result of an evening's interview would be; so, telling Dobbs that he would find his cousin from Peonytown very in-fat-uating, he left them to their own enjoyment.

'It is very singular,' remarked the Captain, promptly, 'how much alike our names are: Hobbs and Dobbs!'

'Yes; but I think that yours is much the prettiest; I always hated the name of Hobbs,' remarked Ann Harriet.

'Hate Hobbs? Well, I detest Dobbs; but you have the advantage of me, for you can change yours without much trouble,' replied the Captain.

He did not know that Ann Harriet had been longer, and at more trouble, in trying to get her name changed, than if she had applied to seven legislatures. She blushed deeply, and raised her fan to hide the rosy hue—but it was a small, round fan, and only partially concealed her face, leaving a crimson disk of two inches around it. Captain Dobbs was delighted; a blush to him was a certain proof of maiden coyness, and bespoke a heart so full of love that every emotion sent it mantling to the face.

Gregory here returned, to say that they were getting up a dance, and Captain Dobbs and his cousin must certainly join in it.

'But I never danced in my life!' said Ann Harriet, innocently.

'Oh, never mind that; it is a very simple dance—the Virginia Reel; every one can dance that; only do as others do,' replied Gregory.

Ann Harriet, accepting Captain Dobbs's proffered arm, proceeded to the room where the arrangements for the dance were progressing.

'I understand that Miss Hobbs is the star of this business,' remarked Mr. Pickett to Gregory, as he crammed himself behind a bookcase, to allow the lady and her escort to go by.

'Star? ' repeated Gregory. 'Yes; the full moon of the concern.'

'You mean of the firm,' quoth Pickett.

'Yes,' replied Gregory, 'the full moon of the firm, I meant.'

The dancers took their places, and a merry tune soon set them in motion. Ann Harriet watched the others carefully, and soon understood the figure. At length her turn came to advance. She performed her part very well until she came to that step known as dos à dos, and here her good luck forsook her; for, in stepping back, she struck with full force her companion, a slim young man with shell eyeglasses, and sent him forward with an impetus which was only checked by his coming in collision with a plaster-of-Paris pedestal, on which stood a bust of General Zachary Taylor; his head penetrated the column, and the bust came down on his back with a thump that nearly knocked the breath out of his body. His eyeglasses were shattered, his soul rent, and his shirt bosom torn asunder. The unfortunate youth gathered himself up and retreated to an anteroom, where he rearranged his disordered clothing; but was not seen again, having disappeared through a side door and hastened home.

Ann Harriet came out of the collision like a second 'Monitor,' unscathed and undaunted; indeed, she was not aware that anything unusual had happened till she heard the crash, and then was surprised to learn that she was the cause of the catastrophe.

When our heroine heard how serious the collision had been, she felt much disturbed, until Gregory observed that, although she had been backward in causing the mishap, she should not be backward in making what reparation she could.

On this suggestion, Ann Harriet inquired the whereabouts of Mr. Google, and learning that he was in an anteroom, started in search of him. She found herself in the supper room, hurrying across which, she pulled open a door on the other side with such a vigorous effort of elephantine strength, as to precipitate a waiter, who had just caught hold of the handle, headlong into the room. The unfortunate servitor, who was dressed in white cravat and black coat, landed under the supper table, where he lay motionless. Ann Harriet made her way back to the parlor as quickly as possible, where she startled the visitors by exclaiming:

'Oh dear, come here, quick! I have killed a minister!'

Miss Helen Bumpus, who was playing a quickstep on the pianoforte, uttered a sharp shriek, which was echoed from various parts of the room, and the whole company, headed by Captain Dobbs, followed Ann Harriet to the scene of the disaster.

When they reached the dining room they found her 'minister' sitting on the floor, rubbing his head, and using language more appropriate to one of Captain Kidd's profession than to an expounder of the gospel. When the damaged waiter saw the immense crowd entering the room, he vanished into the kitchen amid shouts of laughter from the assembly, who comprehended at once Miss Hobbs's error. Ann Harriet felt much relieved to find that the accident was no worse, and explained the mishap to her friends, ending by inquiring what denomination he belonged to. Gregory informed her that the individual was not a clergyman, but a lay-man and a waiter.

Soon after, the guests were requested to repair to the supper room, and each gentleman chose his partner for the occasion. Unfortunately for Ann Harriet, Captain Dobbs chanced to be at the farther end of the room, and before he reached the object of his adoration she had already accepted the arm of an exquisite youth with patent eyeglass, pink necktie, and tomato-colored moustache. The disappointment nearly destroyed Dobbs's appetite. He had intended to be irresistibly attentive to Miss Hobbs; to furnish her with every little delicacy the table afforded; and now, she must depend upon the languid movements of a 'snob:' it was too bad, by Jove!

The table was elegantly decorated with flowers, and the neatly prepared dishes and ministerial waiters presented a scene which to Ann Harriet's vision was enchanting.

'What shall I have the pleasure of obtaining for you?' asked Mr. Struttles of Ann Harriet.

'Let me see,' replied Ann. 'It's some time since I eat anything, and I feel pretty hungry: if you will get me a plateful of pandowdy8 and some ginger snaps, I shall feel thankful.'

Mr. Struttles was a very polite man, and would not laugh in a lady's face for a farm; but his tomato-hued moustache quivered, and he had to frown fiercely to conceal the laughter which threatened to burst him asunder.

'What amuses you so much, Strut?' asked a friend, who found him a few moments later in the entry, giggling all by himself.

'Oh dear! I shall die!' he replied, shaking with mirth; 'that fat girl asked me to get her something to eat that I never heard of: I believe she called it slam dowdy, or rip snap, or something like that, and, of course, there is nothing of the kind on the table.'

'Go and tell her it is all eaten up,' suggested the friend; 'article all sold.'

Struttles had not thought of that; it was a good idea, so off he went and told Ann Harriet that the object she wished had been so fashionable that it was all devoured before he reached it.

'Oh, well! I had just as lief have some gingerbread and a pickle-lime,' was her calm response.

Struttles rushed desperately to the table, filled a plate full of anything that came handy, brought it to his dame, and informed her that there was not a pickled lime to be had. Ann Harriet did not care; she was soon busy devouring the contents of the plate, while Struttles stood by, chuckling and grinning.

Captain Dobbs, in the mean time, was doing all he could to make hungry and handsome Miss Helen Bumpus happy, by giving her oyster salad, ice cream, frozen pudding, and cake, with plenty of champagne to wash it down; but his heart was with Ann Harriet, and many an anxious glance he bestowed on her, to see if she was well supplied with the niceties of the festive board. He thrilled with joy at seeing her behind a plate piled nearly as high as her chin with a variety of cakes, tarts, fruits, and jellies.

After a while every one was surfeited, and gradually the supper room was deserted, leaving none but the waiters, who quickly cleared away what there was left of the supper.

On entering the parlor, Captain Dobbs caught a view of himself in a large mirror, and saw to his dismay that he had not escaped the usual fate of gallants who endeavor to make themselves agreeable to the ladies in a crowded supper-room; lumps of blanc-mange adhered to his shirt bosom; particles of calf's-foot jelly coruscated like gems on his patent-leather gaiters, and quivering oysters hung tenaciously to his coat sleeves. He looked around for some place of refuge where he could retire and remove the remnants of the banquet, and espying a side room apparently deserted, there being no light in it, stepped in, and, taking off his coat, commenced the task of restoring it to its pristine splendor. While doing this, he was startled by a sound so singular that his coat nearly fell from his hand, so alarmed was he. Glancing at the door, his eyes met the known form of Ann Harriet, when he instantly hurried on his coat in horror, and, apologizing to his fair friend for being caught without it, referred to the curious noise he had heard.

'What did it sound like?' asked Ann Harriet.

The Captain tried in vain to find a simile; he had never heard anything that resembled it; and Ann Harriet's suggestions as to what it might have been were equally fruitless.

The truth was, that when Miss Hobbs appeared at the threshold of the door she heaved a deep sigh, and it was this that startled her lover; but as he had his head in a stooping position, and was busy brushing his coat, the sound seemed to him to come from the farther end of the room, which was obscured in darkness. He was not aware that fat ladies' sighs were proportionate to their size. However, now that his heart's idol was present, he cared nothing for aught else; so, taking her small hand, he led her to the window, and they stood gazing with mutual consent at the starry heavens. Gregory spied them there, and mischievously closed the door. What conversation ensued is only known to the two who were engaged in it, but every one noticed that when Ann Harriet reappeared her step was light if not actually fantastic, and her mild countenance beamed with a moonlike radiance, so serenely bright as to reveal a heart buoyant with bliss. Soon after, the company dispersed, and the damsel, retiring to her dormitory, was soon dreaming sweetly of 'her betrothed,' and imagined that all the bells in Peonytown were rung on her wedding day.

Sleep on, Ann Harriet! Thou hast waited long for the happy hour; but thou wert thyself weighty, and it was fit that thou, too, shouldst deal deliberately in matters of 'great' weight.

The next day she informed her uncle of her intention to marry the accomplished Drummond Dobbs, and received his hearty approval; for Dobbs's character was good, and without a scar.

The nuptials were to take place without delay, and so Ann Harriet hastened home to make the requisite arrangements.

CHAPTER III'In wedlock a species of lottery lies,Where in blanks and in prizes we deal;But how comes it that you, such a capital prize,Should so long have remained in the wheel?'Moore.

Ann Harriet was determined that her wedding should be a romantic one; she said that it was by no means an every-day affair, and therefore it should be carried out in a style proportionate to its rarity. After consulting Mrs. Pendergast, and searching through a pile of 'New York Dashers,' she was much inclined to a midnight wedding, especially as Mrs. Pendergast offered to loan her patent lamp for the occasion; but when they suddenly happened to hear of a marriage celebrated in the wild and picturesque woods of the White Hills, it was immediately decided that there was no better place; so sacred a ceremony should be performed 'under the broad canopy of heaven,' and the birds of the air and the countless leaves of the trees should sing their epithalamium.

After some search, it was decided that the happy spot should be on 'Huckleberry Hill,' a picturesque elevation about a mile from the postoffice in Peonytown, covered with a luxurious growth of pines and hemlocks, interspersed with huckleberry bushes, sweet fern, and mullenstalks. A small, open place was selected, where the long moss made a beautiful carpet, and the tall trees on every side entwined their arms as lovingly together as if they, too, were about to take each other 'for better for worse,' while the ripple of a brook hidden in the woods lent a pleasant melody to the scene.