Scenes in Broadway—Jonathan's Interview with the Count and Flirtations with Miss Miles.

Dear Par:

I am eenamost sartin that you was disappinted because I didn't come hum to thanksgiving, but somehow I couldn't raise pluck enough to start, all I could du. I raly don't know what seemed to be the matter with me; but arter Miss Beebe's party, I begun to git as peaked and wamblecropped as could be. I swanny, if it didn't set me all in a fluster the next morning, when I got up and found the sprig of myrtle that Miss Miles give me a lying on the floor jest where it had dropped from the button hole of my new coat.

I didn't hardly give myself time to put on my clothes, afore I went out to a crockeryware stand and bought a tumbler to put it in; and then I set it on my desk, and tried to write a little, for I didn't feel jest like eating any breakfast. But it warn't of no use trying—all I could du, every idee in my head got fixed on the myrtle, and Miss Miles, and the party. I didn't write two words together, but scrabbled all over the paper, and figgered out little heads, and meeting-houses, and hay-stacks on it, as nat'ral as could be; but if I'd been hung and choked to death, I couldn't a wrote two rale ginuine lines. I felt sort of odd all over, and I hadn't the least notion what could ail me; it warn't a very tedious feeling, though, but it seemed as if I was a dreaming yit, and all about that tarnation little Miss Miles. I kept a seeing them bright black eyes and them long curls of hern all the time, as plain as day. I'll be choked if I didn't git afeared that I was a beginning to have a kind of a sneakin notion arter her, and sez I to myself, "Mr. Jonathan Slick, this won't do no how. Arter what you've seen of woman natur in that Judy White, you must be a darned crazy shote to poke your fingers in that fire agin." But a feller may as well drink tu much lickor and ask it not to make him stagger, as to git his head chock full of the gals and then try to talk common sense to hisself. It is like giving advice to a rat when his leg is in the trap.

The long and short of it was, I couldn't set still, and I couldn't think of anything on arth but that gal, so I jumped up all tu once and sez I to myself—"Wal, one way or t'other, by hook or by crook, I'll see her agin—I will, by hokey! it's of no use to git down in the mouth about it, she can't do more than give me the mittin, any how, and it will be the first gal I ever got it from, if she does, I can tell her that."

I was so anxious that it seemed forever afore I got on my dandy coat and trousers agin. My hankercher smelt purty strong yit of the essence of peppermint, so I fixed it right in my pocket, put on my yaller gloves, and stuck the sprig of myrtle in my bosom afore I gin the last peak into the leetle looking-glass that hangs in a corner of my office. I don't think there could be much said agin my looks, as I went down Cherry street with my head flung back, sort of independent, and the tip eend of my yaller gloves stuck in my pocket. Consarn that Broadway tailor! he made the trousers so tight that I couldn't get a hull hand in no more than I could fly.

Miss Miles lives clear up to the further eend of Broadway, so I took a short cut across the Park, and went along by the Astor House. A lot of dandyfied looking chaps stood on the steps a staring at the harnsome gals as they went by, all furbelowed and finefied out like a stream of garden flowers all in full blow.

They may talk about England and France and Garmany, as well as all the other big places that a feller can pint out on the map; but, for my part, I don't believe there is a place on the arth where the wimmen dress so allfired costly as they du here in York. It raly is enough to make a feller grit his teeth to see the harnsome critters sideling and curchying along the stun walks, wrapped up in silks and satins and velvets, and all sorts of feathers, as long as them that Captain Jones wore in his training cap, as if it only wanted a fiddler to set them all a dancing, when their husbands are out a shinning and working themselves to death to keep their notes from being sued by the lawyers. It don't seem right, but yit they do look tarnal killing in their furbelows—it's of no use denying that.

But one thing did raise my dander a leetle as I went along, that's a fact. Any body that had half an eye could see that all the young gals were possessed after them foreign chaps with the brustles and whiskers. Every once in a while one of the indecent varmints would come along with his head twisted round under some purty woman's bonnet, talking as soft and as mealy-mouthed as could be, like an old grey cat mewing round a bird cage, and the gals seemed all in a twitter, they were so tickled, and screwed up their mouths, and smiled to show their teeth, and looked as proud as peacocks of the etarnal impudent critters. I'll be darned if I don't believe every one of them chaps are barbers or chair-makers when they are to hum, and hearing what a chance the York gals give every kind of animals that come from foreign parts, and how they begin to turn up their noses at a rale true born American, whenever they can git a chance to make fools of themselves with them hairy lipp'd fellers, they've come over here to York to court the gals and git up a new crop of hair to begin bisness with when they git hum agin. Think sez I, it wouldn't be a bad joke sometime about six months arter this, if some of them same gals that don't think nothing of chasing arter them fellers, should buy his whiskers and all the rest on 'em that they fall in love with, stuffed into a footstool, sich as I saw at Miss Beebe's. Stranger things than that has happened afore now, I reckon.

It raly made me feel bad to see tall, harnsome-looking fellers, ginuine Americans, with revolutionary blood in their hearts, a standing on the tavern steps, and a walking all alone up and down the streets as molancholy as mice in an empty mill, while their own wimmen folks, that ought to feel ashamed of themselves, were a talking and smiling and giggling with that pack of varmints. It made my blood bile to see it, I can tell you.

You wont think it exactly like a Christian to run on as I du about them fellers, I'm afeard; but the truth of it is, I do hate 'em like pison. If I owned a caravan of living animals, darn me, if I wouldn't catch some on 'em for specimens, and cage 'em up for a show. They wouldn't be a strutting up Broadway and a showing themselves for nothing much longer, I can tell them that! They talk about Yankee speculations; I reckon this would be a prime one—wouldn't it? If a feller could only get a good trap made, there wouldn't be no difficulty but we could find purty gals—them that live in fine houses and hold up their heads as if they were queens too—that would be willing enough to let you use them for bate.

You wont be surprised that I am wrothy about them chaps when I tell you how I was struck up jest arter I went by the Astor House. I was thinking about one thing or another, when all to once I lifted my head and there was Miss Miles a coming toward me a looking as fresh and harnsome as a full blown butter cup, and close to her side, that Count with the crabbed name that I saw at Miss Beebe's was a twistifying himself along, with his head bent sideways till the great long white feather that she wore in her bonnet all but swept across his eyes. I eenamost felt as if I should holler out, and I raly believe I should have boo hooed right in the street if I hadn't been so allfired wrathy at the sight of him. Oh! but my Yankee grit did rise—I dug my hands down in my trousers' pocket and walked right straight up to them a grinning like a hyena, for I was detarmined to let them see that I didn't care a copper how much they walked together. They were so busy twisting their heads about and a looking soft sodder at each other that they didn't see me till I stood right afore them as stiff as an iron crowbar, with my head up straight, and one foot stuck out for'ard, as an independent and true born Yankee ought to do when he sees himself imposed on.

There was no mistake in Miss Miles this time any how. She gave a little scream and blushed as red as a turkey's comb, and then she looked about sort of skeery as if she was afeard somebody would see how slick I'd caught her. I was mad as all natur, but as true as you live I couldn't but jest keep from haw hawing right out to see how that hair lipp'd Count acted when he saw me a standing up afore him. He kinder stepped back and stuck out one foot a little sideways, jest as if he was a going to make a bow, and he twisted his little stuck up waist round till his head poked out like a mud turtle when he wants to see if anybody is near. Then he took a thing out of his vest pocket hitched to a gold chain that he wore round his neck, and held it up to one eye, and there he stood a staring at me and twisting his face and a brustling up his hair lip, like an etarnal monkey. I didn't seem to mind him, but looked right straight at Miss Miles, and sez I—

"How do you du, Miss Miles?"

She didn't seem to know how to take me at first, so she looked at the feller and then at me, and, arter a while, sez she—

"Oh! Mr Slick, is it you?"

"Wal, I ruther guess it is," sez I, "but I s'pose my room's as good as my company, I don't want tu keep you from talking tu your beau there."

"Oh! Mr. Slick," sez she, a twisting up her mouth and a looking in my face, jest as she did the night afore, "how odd you men of genius are! The Count, I'm sure, will be happy to meet you, won't you, Count?"

She called the coot by his hull name, but how she could twist that little mouth of hern so as to git the word out, I can't tell. Arter that she turned her head a little, and said something sort of low to him. She smiled so harnsome, and her voice was so soft and coaxing, that I had eenamost forgot the chap, but her talking to him made me rile up agin—and jest as he was letting that half of a pair of spectacles down from his eye, and was a beginning to put his face ship shape agin, I walked right straight up to him, and sez I—

"Look a here you chap, I ruther guess you mean to know who I am the next time you see me."

"Sare?" sez he, a standing up straight and opening his great black eyes till they seemed chuck full of fire and brimstone.

"Wal, what on it?" sez I.

"You are impertinent," sez he.

"Wal, now I reckon that aint what I was baptized. I'll tell you what, Mr. Hair-lip, I haint a going to let you nor any body else call me names," sez I, a taking both hands out of my trousers pockets, and a pulling up my yaller gloves, as spiteful as could be, jest to show him that my mawlers were fit for use.

The feller's lips began to grow white, but he twisted them up as if he wanted to make me think he didn't care for what I said.

"Sare," sez he, "do you know whom you are speaking to?"

"Wal," sez I, larfin in his face a leetle, "I ruther guess I du, though I haint just made up my mind what kind of horned cattle you call yourself yit: they give all sich stranger-critters a name, and I s'pose you'll git one by-am-by, as well as the rest on 'em."

With that he turned as white as a tub of curd, and sez he—

"This is too much, sare; remember you are speaking to a Count." Here he out with a name as long and crooked as a sassafras root.

"You don't say so!" sez I.

"I'm a nobleman!" sez he, and he was a going on to give me another string of foreign jaw-breakers; but I jest sot down my foot, and sez I,

"Look a here, you feller—I don't care the value of a butnut-shell how many names you've got; we don't own no Counts in this ere free land of liberty, but them that can count down the most hard chink, and they have to work tarnation hard afore they git the title, I can tell you. As for your noblemen, we have raised a new-fashioned sort of 'em in this land of liberty. In the Revolutionary War a hull grist on 'em sot their titles down on our glorious Declaration of Independence, and there they'll stay, as bright as the stars, to all etarnity, and a day longer. We don't ask our noblemen who their fathers were, or how they got a living. Great deeds and—what's the same thing—good deeds make noblemen here. Every man has to work out his own title and when he dies, instid of leaving it to some booby of a son, he writes his date out in the history of his country, and takes it back to him who gave the power to arn it. As for any other noblemen—though I believe arter all that the true ginuine lords and counts that come out here are as scarce as hen's teeth—" (here the count didn't seem to stand easy,) "we true Americans, rale full-blooded Yankees, don't care any more for their titles than we do for the stuns under our feet. It's only your half-blooded Americans that have been baked over in Europe, and our silly finefied gals that chase after you. An honest straight for'ard Yankee gal would take you for jest what you are worth as men, and when they du that, I rather guess we can pull an even yoke with any of you that come from t'other side the water."

Here I gave Miss Miles a squint that made her wilt like a broken rose in the hot sun! "Mr. Slick," sez she, eenamost crying, "I beg, I entreat, let us walk on. See how the people are remarking us."

"Wal," sez I, sort of mollified, "I aint doing nothing to be ashamed on, am I?"

"Oh, no," sez she, "I didn't mean to say that."

"Wal, there aint nothing on arth that I wont du to oblige a harnsome critter like you," sez I, a going round to the other side on her. She gave me another of her prime smiles, and that seemed to pacify me. So we all three walked along together till we got agin the Astor House once more. The Count looked as sour as a vinegar barrel—I suppose, because I was detarmined to hang on, but I kept a stiff upper lip, and marched down the stun walk as straight as a bean pole stuck up on eend. Miss Miles begun to smile agin, and she talked to him as sweet as could be, but I couldn't make out a word she said, for she didn't speak rale American, but every now and then, jest as I was beginning to get rily about it, she would turn her face to me, and pucker up her mouth so coaxing, that somehow I couldn't git right down wrathy if I tried ever so much.

When the Count saw that I wasn't to be scared away, he jest give me a good long stare right in the eyes, and then bending a little for'ard to Miss Miles, he lifted his hat about an inch from his head and went into the Astor House. I don't know what on arth could be the matter, but the minit he left us I begun to feel as sheepish as could be. I didn't know what in nature to talk about—so I jest took my red silk handkercher and gave it a flirt out of my pocket, and then put it back agin.

"Do you like the smell of essence of peppermint, Miss Miles?" sez I.

"I'm very fond of perfume," sez she.

"I hope you didn't like the stuff that are Count had on his handkercher," sez I. "I swanny, it eenamost made me sick; he smelt more like a musk-rat than anything else."

"You can't expect every body to have your taste in selecting perfumes for his toilet, Mr. Slick," sez she, a puckering up her mouth till it looked like a red clover top full of honey.

"I swow, Miss Miles, you look as harnsome as a full blown rose this morning," sez I; "it aint a mite of wonder that I couldn't sleep a bit last night."

With that I jest took a good squint at her as we went along, for I couldn't think what to say next. I don't believe the things she had on cost one cent less than fifty dollars, enough to rig out all the gals in Weathersfield with boughten finery; her cloak was the queerest thing I ever did see; it only reached jest down to her knees, and was made out of rale silk velvet. I know it was silk, for I jest slipped off my yaller glove, and felt on it to be sartin, as we walked along. It was kinder purply, like the damsons that grow in our corn lot, and was loaded down with some kind of long fur. Under that she wore another dress of black silk velvet, that shone in the sun like a crow's back. The cloak had great open sleeves, edged with fur, a hanging round her arms; and I could see the corner of a hankercher a sticking out from the eend of her little black muff jest enough to show how harnsomely it was figger'd off; a bunch of red flowers was stuck agin each side of her face under her bonnet, and her eyes looked bright, and her cheeks rosy enough to make a feller catch his breath. The more I looked at her, the more uneasy I got about that Count. I wanted to say something to her about him dreadfully, but some how I didn't know what to say first. I took out my hankercher agin, and then I wiped my nose and put it back; then I begun to examine the fingers of my yaller gloves, to see how they stood the weather. Finally, I lost step, and it took me three minits to get the right hitch agin; at last I bust right out, and, sez I—

"Now, Miss Miles, between you and I and the post, jest tell me do you raly care anything about that are Count?"

She turned her roguish black eyes to my face, and, sez she, "Why, Mr. Slick, how can you ask sich a question?"

"Now that's Yankee all over," sez I, "you aint told me yet: only asked me another question to match mine."

"What do you want to know for?" sez she, sort of softly.

"Oh, not much of anything; I should kinder like to know, that's all," sez I. With that, think sez I, I'll try and make her jealous a leetle, and sez I,—

"Do you know, Miss Miles, that they've been a printing my picter clear off in Michigan and down in Cincinnati? I guess I shall go out there one of these days and see how I like the folks out West, I begin to git eenamost tired of York." I warn't wrong; that brought her to her senses purty quick.

"You don't really intend to leave the city," sez she, a looking at me as arnest as could be.

"Wal, I don't know," sez I, "them Western editors want me to come dreadfully. One on 'em sent me word that they had a grist of harnsome gals in his State."

"Is the picter out West so very well painted?" sez she.

"Wal," sez I, "it's a purty good likeness, considering it was took in my old clothes," (and with that I took out the paper and I showed it to her). "I ruther think it will be best for me to go on there," sez I, a putting up the picter; "that are Count will think I want to cut him out, I'm afeard."

I looked straight at her as I said this, but she begun to smooth down the fur on her muff with her little hand, and when she did speak I had to bend my head down to hear what she was a saying.

Afore I could make out what she meant to say, a couple of harnsome young gals cum along and they stopped as if they were tickled to death to see her; I thought there warn't much chance for me to git another word in edgeways; so I cut for the office and left them a talking as they went along.

Think sez I, as I was a going along through the Park, arter all, human natur is purty much the same in all places. I don't see as there's much difference between our gals there in Weathersfield, that wear calico frocks and straw bonnets, and these York tippies that go out all furbelowed off in their silks and satins. They are six of one and half a dozen of t'other the world over. If it hadn't been for that are Count I should not have been much at a loss to know how to take Miss Miles. When a gal begins to talk down her throat, and fingers her muff as she did, it's a purty sure symptom that there'll be a change of weather in her heart afore long, but somehow that tarnal Count, consarn him, put me all out on my natural reckoning. But who cares? sez I to myself. I'll bet a cookey if there warn't but two men in the world, and them were that darned feller and Jonathan Slick, and she'd got to marry one or t'other, she wouldn't be long a making up her mind whether to take a chap for what he's got in his head or for the hair that grows outside on it; for a gal with half an eye might see that when a feller's brains all run to hair, he can't have much sense left.

But when these fellers are so chased after by all the gals, there is no saying what kind of a chance a plain, honest chap like me might have among 'em. But any how, I'll try my luck to-morrow, for if I don't go tu see her I shall be sick abed, that's sartin.

Your loving son,

Jonathan Slick.