Wiggins and his friends furnished the unfortunate Pate with pecuniary means, and he accompanied them to Chagres and embarked for New York, where in due time they arrived, and immediately took passage on the Southern train. About a week after his arrival in Mapleton, Pate received a visit from the father of the fair Juliet, who informed him that his daughter, the wife of Romeo, had discovered that there had been a misapprehension on her part in regard to Pate's conduct.

"There has been a sad mistake," said Mr. Singleton. "You honestly believed that my daughter had beaten you, and did not intend to slander her when you so asserted."

"She did beat me, sir," said Pate, "and most barbarously. She knocked me down with her fist and then broke my arm."

"You thought so," said Mr. Singleton; "but it was a mistake."

"How could it be a mistake?" cried Pate. "Did I not feel the blow from her fist? Did I not see her standing over me, kicking me with her foot and beating me with a terrible club? Was not my arm broken? Did I not lie in bed for weeks? And then to sue me! And now I am a ruined man! I have not a dollar in the world!"

And the big tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought of his destitute condition.

"Mr. Pate," said the father of the fair Juliet, visibly affected by Pate's distress, "I am rich, and so is my daughter's husband. She is my only child and will inherit all my wealth. She don't want your property. Your farm has been purchased by us, and a deed prepared securing the title to you. Here is the deed, sir, and here is a check on my banker for a sum equal to the value of your personal property, which was sold by the sheriff. Good-morning, Mr. Pate." And Mr. Singleton hurried away, leaving Pate dumb with amazement.

After having been haunted by bad lack for a long period Fortune smiled upon M. T. Pate at last. The first thing he did, after being re-established in his former home, was to hunt up old Whitey, then in the possession of Simon Rump. Simon's angel had gone to Abraham's bosom, and the eldest of the female cherubs, who had now assumed the appearance of a full-grown woman, kept house for the bereaved Rump. When Pate called at the house he found his friend Perch seated by the side of the female cherub, who was evidently delighted with his society. Perch was entertaining the cherub with an account of his adventures by sea and land, and, like Desdemona,—

The sagacity of M. T. Pate enabled him to perceive that Perch and the cherub were in the incipient stages of love, and he left them in that embarrassing condition and sought Simon Rump, whom he found feeding his hogs. Rump agreed to give up old Whitey, and Pate paid the ransom for his horse and rode home in a happy mood of mind.

Next morning, as he was riding his four-footed friend through the streets of Mapleton, he perceived Wiggins walking with the widow whom he had once led to the altar but failed to marry, owing to an unfortunate blunder. They had evidently become reconciled; and Wiggins was now performing the part of Othello, and employing the witchcraft which that dusky hero had used in wooing Brabantio's daughter.

As Pate rode on he met Gideon Foot, who informed him that Bliss had been blessed with an heir, and the boy was to be named M. T. Pate. Love had a sweet babe several weeks old, that looked like a Cupid smiling in the cradle, and very recently a pretty pair of young Doves had made their appearance in the town of Mapleton.

Pate rode home in a meditative mood. A strange feeling came over him; a feeling he had never experienced before; and as he sat in his lonely abode, absorbed in meditation, it became stronger, and finally obtained the mastery.

"I see it plainly!" he exclaimed, in a soliloquy. "It is useless for man to seek to avoid his destiny. Inevitable Fate will pursue him wherever he goes. He cannot escape. My time has come. I must marry." He uttered these last words in great agitation, and trembled from head to foot. In a few moments he started up and exclaimed,—

"I must marry;—but whom?"

He could not answer this question, and held it under consideration for several months, without being able to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion.

During this period he witnessed the marriage of Perch and the cherub, and waited on Wiggins when the latter again led the blushing widow to the altar, and, on a second trial, responded pertinently and satisfactorily to the interrogatories propounded by the parson. His two friends were now in the midst of domestic bliss, while he was unable to solve the question, which was perplexing him during the day and interrupting his slumbers at night.

While in this condition of mind, he visited the metropolis of the State, and on a bright sunny day drove a young widow in his buggy to see a magnificent country residence, located a few miles from the city, which had just been completed, but was not yet occupied by the owner. With his fair companion on his arm he entered the building, and much time was spent in a critical examination of the various apartments, from the hall to the attic. The widow at last complained of fatigue, and seated herself in one of the parlors. Pate blandly requested her to excuse his absence for a few moments, and said that he would go down and explore the cellar. The lady waited for a long time and then began to feel lonesome, and finally becoming quite uneasy, impatiently exclaimed,—

"What in the world has become of him?"

Hardly had these words escaped her lips when she was horrified by hearing most singular and startling sounds coming up from the cellar below. It seemed as if a multitude of dogs, of every size and breed, had been let loose, and were all yelping and barking at the same time; while amidst this canine uproar could be distinguished a human voice lustily shrieking,—

"Get out! get out! Help! help! Murder! murder!"

The lady was astonished and frightened, but had courage enough to rush towards the scene of action. But as soon as she had reached the head of the stairway leading to the cellar, a sight met her eyes which compelled her to retire; for modesty forbade her taking any part in the strife, although her companion was vastly overpowered and sadly in need of assistance. On the stairway stood M. T. Pate; having just escaped from the combined assault made upon him by a large number of dogs which had been temporarily confined in the cellar by the proprietor of the mansion. The whole of poor Pate's under-garments had been torn from his person, and there he stood in a tailless coat and a stout pair of boots, thanking a merciful Providence for the preservation of his life. In this condition he did not dare to appear in the presence of his fair companion, and communication was carried on between them, by each taking a position in a separate apartment and calling to the other in a voice raised to a high key. After a prolonged consultation conducted in this manner, the widow proposed to leave one of her under-garments in the room which she then occupied and retreat to another, while he came in and put it on. Poor Pate thankfully accepted the loan which the kind lady offered him; being driven to this shift to hide his nudity. He and the widow were compelled to remain in that lonely mansion until the shades of night covered the earth, when he drove her in his buggy back to the city. He left her at her door and proceeded with his buggy to a livery-stable. Here the sight of his strange habiliments created great amazement among the hostlers and stable-boys; and when he started up the street in his robes he was arrested by the police and carried to a station-house; where he spent the whole night weeping and wailing on a hard oaken bench. In the morning he was taken before a magistrate, where his strange story was listened to with wonder mingled with much merriment; and being entirely satisfactory, he obtained his discharge, as well as the loan of a coat and a pair of pantaloons.

On the following day Pate called upon the widow and restored the garment borrowed from her, after the brutal assault upon his person in the lonely mansion. She blushed when she received it, and sank into a chair overcome with emotion. The heart of a woman is an inexplicable puzzle. Newton, with his mighty mind, could comprehend the movements of suns and planets and calculate their density; but woman was to him an incomprehensible problem, even when he pressed the hand of a fair lady who sat by his side, and felt that he could make so free as to thrust her finger into the bowl of his pipe. Who can tell what caused the widow to bestow her affections on M. T. Pate? Perhaps, after he had so nearly fallen a bleeding victim to canine ferocity,—

Upon no other hypothesis can we account for the fact that after he had been in constant attendance on the widow for several weeks they were married. A few days afterwards a carriage drove through the streets of Mapleton, in which sat M. T. Pate and his bride. The event was announced in the local newspaper, which also contained an obituary notice of the death of Samuel Crabstick, who had left a will, by which he bestowed the riches he had so carefully hoarded on his niece, the beautiful Ida Somers.