LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2717, 23 December 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

808 AND I—'ARCADES AMBO.' A Story op London Bohemia. in TWO PARTS. Part 11. (Continued.) 'Sir, your language is coarse. I will not stand coarse language, even from you !' 'Take a chair, then, if you're tired, my little whipper-snapper.' Fresh titters from the crowd. My blood boiled. ' Wliipper-gnfcp;i«r, sir V 'Yes, just that : whipper-snapper.' The titter broke out into a laugh, and a vulgar fellow at my elbow out to me, 'Why don't you hit him one in the eye, little un V I "drew myself up to my full height, and said, looking my late friend full in the face, ' I will talk to you later on, Mr Daly. You are not in a fit condition for a gentleman to converse with at present,' and walked haughtily away, indifferent to the laugh of the crowd and the jeer 3 of the vulgar fellow aforesaid, who called out, • Don't you run away, little un ; come back and give him one !' When I reached home I retired to my own room to await Daly's arrival. I felt extremely hurt. I had been grievously insulted. Lacerated as tny feelings might be, however, I determined to let no word escape me which I might afterwards regret, and to keep strict control over my temper. It was nearly midnight when Mr Daly returned, and when I went into his room I noticed a smell of spirits, and saw he had been drinking. I do not drink spirits. 1 consider it a low vulgar habit. I take up my position at the side of the table, and begin : 'Mr Daly, you used an expression this evening.' ' Bedad, I believe I did,' says he, turning round from the mantelpiece, where he was engaged in filling his pipe. "The expression ' whipper-snapper.' • Was that it »' says Mr Daly, with an appearance 1 of extreme* ignorance which annoys me much. • You know it was it, sir; you will retract that expression.' ' Oh, will 1 1 What fault have you to find with it.

' This miserable quibbling will not serve Will you, or won't you, withdraw that epithet ?'

' Will you, won't you, Will you, won't you, Will you, won't you' Join the dance ?' sings Mr Daly with his hands in his pockets. I feel I am losing my temper, which does not help me to keep it. ' Your conduct, sir, is beneath contempt. I am not going to bandy words with you. Since you are not gentleman enough (this -with biting sarcasm) 'to apologise, I beg that our former intimacy may be considered as having terminated. Henceforth, sir, we are strangers—nothing more.'

' Fairshon swore a feud . Against the Clan M'Taviah,' drones out Mr Daly insultingly in a wretched imitation of my national instrument, the bagpipe. ' My name is Alexander Macpherson, sir, jiot Fahairshon ; and I'll trouble you to call me by it.' ' Very well, Mr Robert Daly.' I pause a moment to recover myself,_ and then proceed to remark with scathingly irony. ' I suppose you thought you made a wonderful impression on her.' ' Bedad, if you thought you did you were precious well mistaken.' I rejoin with withering "mphasis, 'You don't think she'd, take a great longlegged, luberly fellow like you, do you V ■ ' Bedad, if she wanted you she'd have to look for you to find you.' To this I reply in the purest mockery, ' I daresay you think yourself goo d enough for her. Ha, ha I* ' You're mighty far out of it if you think you are.' ' What, you impertinent, insulting fellow! Do you mean to insinuate that I am not a tit match for her ? I'll have you remember, sir, that I am one of the Macpherson's of—' 'Yes, I know, of Loonie ; and ■ a very good name for ye too ' ' What, sir !' How dare you—-' : ' Dare, is it ? There's mighty little daring required,' sneers he. ' How dare you address me in that manner 1 Me, a scion of the famous Clan Rattan, who trace their lineage back to Alexander the Third of Scotland, to be spoken to in that way by a low dram-drinking Irishman !'

Daly springs up. 'By the powers, that's too much ! Who are ye, what are ye, ye wretched, conceited, little Sawney, to speak to me, that have the ould Milesian blood in my veins !' 'That's just what's wroug with you,' I reply ; a little blood-letting would do you all the good in the world.' ' By the holy poker, if ye were a man I'd fight ye! I'll do the blood-letting for ye !' ' Yes, I suppose that is your only mode of argument.' ' Damme, I wish you were my own size !' cries Daly, perfectly furious. ' I shall not stop here to be insulted, sir. I shall leave this room at once.'

' Who asks ye to do anything else ?* roars Daly. ' Keep a civil tongue in your head, sir. _ I shall have nothing more to say to you, sir. We are strangers.' ' Faith, that same is the only sensible -word you've spoken this evening.' ' Sir, I despise you. You are a low, common, red-headed Irishman!' I cry, leaving the room.

' Get out of my room, ye conceited, halfgrown, yellow-faced sandy of a Sawney!' roars out my adversary, as I retreat. Of course, after what had taken place, it was utterly out of the question that I could occupy the same bedroom as a man like .Robert Daly ; so, after waiting some time I felt calmer, I went into the sleeping room, and carried, with considerable trouble and difficulty, iny bedclothes and one mattrass into my own room, and made up my bed on the floor. It was a very hard ■uncomfortable couch, and I spent a miserable night, awaking in the morning feeling very sore. I learned subsequently that my fellow tenant had gone into our bedroom, after my lahor was over, with the same intention as myself; but that, finding I had taken my things out, had quiotly occupied the room, and slept comfortably in his own bed. So I fared ill that time.

After our quarrel I held no communication, with my would-be rival, nor he with me. We were as perfect strangers now as we had formerly been friends. I could, of course, hold no further intercourse with a man who had so grossly insulted me ; the only notice I took of him was to watch his movements, so that there might be little chance of our meeting. "When he came in, I went out; when he went out, I preferred to stay at home. It was inconvenient, but I managed to put up with it. If we chanced to meet on the stairs or elsewhere, I passed him as though I knew him not. Henceforward he was naught to me. I lived for patience, and far her alone. I went every day to Bloomsbury square, ostensibly to talk over our emigration scheme, in reality to seer my fair enslaver: It was astonishing how ignorant I was, and how much explanation I needed at her hands. She was very; very kind and patient, vindicating her name most tho-J roughly, and I listened to all she told me; with the vision of the ideal farmhouse and its lovely tenant in my mind's eye. Still it was not perfectly satisfactory. She was never alone. Her father, or the largelimbed Jake, was always present. They, manifested some surprise at my coming -without my friend (friend! empty word), but I made, the excuse that it was impos-s sible for both of us to be away from the studio at the same time. A 3 the days went on, I crew more and more ardent, and finally, seeing that it was impossible for me to speak to her by herself,' I determined to let my proposal lake thi form of a letter, which I addressed to Mr Capeu. I have a copy by me, and will givA the body of the letter. Apart from all per* sonal feeling in the matter, I believe it tp be a composition of which anyone might b£ proud. After preliminaries I began af toJlows : J ' The purport of this letter will doubtless n some measure surprise you, although I

think you must be aware to some extent of the impression your daughter has made upon me. It is an impression which will last as long as life remains with me. In a word, I love her, fondly, deeply, devotedly, most devotedly, and I herewith lay before you my proposal for her hand. ' Under the circumstances, I may be excused for telling you a little about myself ; indeed, you will probably wish for all the information I can bestow. As you will see from my name, I am a Scotchman, of Highland descent: but you may not be aware that I am a scion of the ancient house of the Macphersons of Loonie, or Clan Rattan, who trace back their lineage to the days of Alexander 111. of Scotland, and whose famous motto, ' Touch not the cat, but the cheese,' has become part of the literature of our language. I may, therefore, in point of family, stand on an equality with the representative of any noble house in England, and, without presuming to say that this consideration will be a decisive one, it will doubtless have due weight with you. lam not a rich man by any means ; but I have an income of my own, paid quarterly, so that I am not entirely dependent on my own exertions. I may add that lam quite willing to meet your views as to the future residence of your daughter, of Patience, if you will permit me so to call her, and myself. I am ready to emigrate to the Far, or Farthest, West; indeed to any part of the world you may select. ' I shall do myself the honor of calling on you at four o'clock to-morrow afternoon, when I hope to have the pleasure of receiving your favorable answer, and of saluting your lovely daughter with a new and dearer title.'

When I went out to post my letter, my rival came out of his room too. He had a letter in his hand, which, on seeing me, he at once concealed. Mine was in my coatpocket. We did not speak, of course ; but I wondered why he did it. However, I was too much taken up with my own affairs to trouble my head about Robert Daly's. During the twenty-four hours that elapsed between the sending of my letter and my visit to the house of my adored Patience, I was in a state of joyous hope. Or rather," for hope implies a certain element of doubt, I was in a condition of jubilant expectation. There was no earthly doubt about : my being accepted; Setting all other' considerations aside, Mr Capen would Surely never hesitate for a moment in securing so genteel, nobly-descended, and in every respect desirable a son-in-law as myself. [To be continued.)