thence to a bell in the room beneath. A system of tintinabulatory signals was contrived, that the dispenser of good things, on the first floor, might be made to comprehend the wants of the thirsty individuals in the loft, without their coming down stairs. One jerk meant "brandy smashes" all round; two pulls signified "hot whisky punches, with plenty of lemon;" a prolonged jingle was to be immediately answered by an unlimited supply of ale, porter and pewter mugs; while a convulsive twitch, or a couple of spasmodic tugs, signified to the man in waiting, not only that the entire club was "over the bay," but that they wanted, on the instant, soda-water enough to float them in safety to the shore again.
The furniture of this private elephantine den was simple, but necessary, made not for ornament, so much as contrived for use, and consisted of a long table, with an extra quantity of super-solid legs, in case the club should all take a freak to go to bed on it at once – two chairs for each member, one for the customary use, and the other for the accommodation of his feet, an upright piano-forte, a huge match-box, and a wash-tub for empty bottles. A journal was also provided, in which to inscribe the proceedings of each evening, and, by general agreement, it was made a standing order that no man should write therein unless he was sufficiently sober to tell a gold pen from a boot jack.
The poker was chained to the grate, that it might not, in case of an unusual excitement, become a convenient instrument for the demolition of furniture, or the extinguishment of an offending member. For the same reason, the water-jug was tied to the door-knob, and the private tumbler of each member made fast to one of his chairs with an elastic band, so that, should he throw it at any one, he would not only miss the object of his unnoble aim, but the elasticity of the securing thong would cause it to recoil upon his own pate, with a force which would, probably, render him for the future less inclined to experiment in projectiles. Over the entrance-door, on the outside, was placed a toy elephant, two feet long, but four feet underneath, imported from Germany, at the unheard-of cost of ten dollars.
The room being furnished, and the club ready to commence operations, it was deemed expedient to select an individual of superior physical strength to attend to the door, lest some intruding outsider might sometime interrupt the deliberations of the honorable quadrupedal order. Mr. Quackenbush elected himself to this dignified and honorable office, and, under the belief that his brawny arms were eminently suited to do duty in case of the irruption of sacrilegious outsiders upon the sanctified premises, all the other members acquiesced in his promotion. If any undesirable person presented himself for admission, he was to inform him of the secrecy of the convention. Should the outsider persevere, he was first to expostulate with him, and endeavor to persuade him to go peaceably away. If all milder means should prove unavailing, he was first to black both of his eyes with a pewter mug, taking care to do it impartially and symmetrically, that the discoloration of one optic should not in the least exceed that of the other; he was then mildly to knock him down with a chair, pitch him gently, head first, down both flights of stairs into the street, and then, having filled his boots full of gravel, and put a brick in his mouth, he was to leave him; but on no account was he to deal harshly with such offender, unless he chose to do so on his own responsibility, or was specially authorized by a unanimous vote of all the members awake, in which case he might act his own pleasure. He solemnly bound himself, in case he should at any time be overcome by fatigue, or any other potent cause, that he would go to sleep immediately before the threshold, in order to prevent any animated worldling from penetrating into the secret den, and spy out the mystic doings of the elephants, without forcing an entrance over his prostrate body.
The arrangements being now complete, a solemn convocation of the honorable body was held, and a quadrupedal quorum being present, after a smoky and juicy deliberation of some seven hours, the Higholdboy, Mr. John Spout, unanimously Resolved:
1. That the club proceed to hunt the long-nosed animal.
2. In a body.
3. To-morrow night.
To this series of resolutions each of the other members acceded. The result of this bold determination will be fully detailed in another chapter.
FIRST DISCOVERIES OF THE CLUB
"He who fights and runs away,
Will live – "
PURSUANT to the resolutions unanimously adopted on the evening before, the Elephant Club met to proceed, under the direction of some experienced hunter, to scrutinize their ponderous game. Being duly equipped with all the arms and ammunition required for an expedition of so perilous a nature, they sallied forth. They dragged no heavy, ponderous artillery, they wore no clanking swords, they rallied under no silken banner, and marched to no inspiriting music; but they tramped along, their only rallying-flag being a yellow handkerchief round the hat of Mr. Myndert Van Dam, who had thus protected his "Cady" from any injury from a sudden shower; their only martial music was the shrill pipe of Mr. James George Boggs, who whistled "Pop goes the Weasel," and for arms each one had a hickory cane, and in the breast pocket of his overcoat, a single "pocket-pistol," loaded, but not dangerous. Mr. Remington Dropper had assumed the leadership, and was to conduct the party on their cruise.
They had proceeded but a short distance when Mr. Boggs called out to the party to observe the motions of a queer-looking character, who was approaching at a distance of a half block. He was stepping on the edge of the sidewalk with his gaze fixed upon the gutter, and in apparent unconsciousness of the existence of anything but himself. He was lank, lean, and sallow. His clothes were quite dilapidated, his beard and hair long. A smile on his face seemed to indicate his entire satisfaction with himself. He was a marked character, and after a moment's sight at the individual, inquiries were made of Mr. Boggs as to who he was.
"That is more than I can say," was Boggs's response. "I have known him by sight for years, and he has always appeared the same. He belongs to a class of beings in New York, a few specimens of which are familiar to those who frequent the principal thoroughfares, and are known by the ornithological appellation of "gutter-snipes." I have often talked with him, but he knows nothing of his own history; or, if he does, chooses not to reveal it. He is a monomaniac, but perfectly harmless, and calls himself Nicholas Quail. I have learned from other sources a few facts of his history. He sleeps anywhere and everywhere, and eats in the same localities. Nobody ever harms him, all being familiar with his whims. As far as I can learn, he was formerly a raftsman. He has never in his life owned real estate enough to form the site for a hen-coop, nor timber sufficient to build it. His personal property could be crowded into a small pocket-handkerchief; but let him get four inches of whisky in him, and he fancies he has such boundless and illimitable wealth, that in comparison, the treasures of Aladdin, provided by the accommodating slave of the lamp, would be but small change. He walks about the streets viewing what he terms the improvements he is making; he gives all sorts of absurd directions to workmen as to how he desires the work to be done, much to their amusement. But here he is, now; if he is tight we'll have some sport."
As the personage approached, Boggs accosted him, when the following dialogue took place.
"So Nicholas," said Boggs, "you've come back, have you? How is the financial department at present?"
Nick looked up and smiled.
"The fact is," said he, "I've just been buying all the grain in Michigan, Wisconsin, Ohio, and Indiana for $7 a bushel, and I am rather short for small change, but if you want a hundred thousand or so, just send a cart round to my office. Would you prefer having it in quarter eagles or twenty dollar pieces?"
"Well, Nick, I don't care to borrow at present, but a boy says you've been drunk. How is it?"
"What boy is it?"
"Your boy in your counting-room – the urchin who runs on errands for you, smokes your stubs, and pockets the small change."
"Now, hadn't
