am truly grateful, captain, for the manifestation of confidence contained in your offer, and will gladly undertake the business.”
“Very good; then we may consider it settled so far. The next thing to be done is to get up a handsome advertisement, and meantime the boat must be re-painted, re-furnished and overhauled generally.”
“Give the necessary instructions as to these things, captain, and draw on me for my share of the expenses. By the by, what boat have you chartered?”
“The ‘Star of the West;’ but I will have her name changed, as I do not like that one. What shall her new name be?”
“I leave that to you, and trust you will select a pretty name; there is nothing like having a pretty name for a pretty boat. Shakespeare was decidedly mistaken when he thought that there was nothing in a name.”
“I agree with you there, Sam, and insist that you shall select the name.”
“No, no; but I’ll tell you what we will do: you write down three names, and I’ll write three; we’ll put them in a hat, and the first one drawn shall be her name.”
“All right.”
The names were written, placed in the captain’s hat, and Sam was requested to draw out one.
“What have you got, Sam?” said the captain.
“The prettiest name that ever was seen on a wheel-house. You might have given me a month to think about it, and I never should have thought of such a sweet-sounding name.”
“Well, what is it?”
“THE WHITE ROSE OF MEMPHIS.”
“I am truly glad to know that you think it a pretty name, and we will have the letters made in gold.”
“When can we be ready to start, captain?”
“It will take six weeks to get everything ready. We must manage to make a grand display when we start on our first trip.”
“You had better prepare the advertisement, then, and let it appear at once. Suppose we give a grand masquerade ball on board just before we start.”
“Capital idea, Sam; we’ll make the first trip one of pleasure, so as to attract the attention of the public. I’ll prepare the advertisement at once.”
The foregoing conversation was carried on between Captain Oliver Quitman and Samuel Brazzleman, two well-known and very popular steam-boat men of Memphis, whose experience in that business had won for them an established reputation for reliability and integrity.
The following advertisement appeared in one of the morning papers a few days after the conversation above related:
The new and splendid passenger boat, “White Rose of Memphis,” has been purchased by Captain Oliver Quitman, and will be put on the line between Memphis and New Orleans. She will start on her first trip at 9 A. M., on May 1st, for the Crescent City, under the immediate command of her owner. Samuel Brazzleman will officiate at the clerk’s desk, and Dave Halliman, at the wheel. The old reliable river man, Thomas Henderson, has agreed to take charge of the engine. Professor Frazzlebrains’s splendid string band has been employed to make music for the amusement of the passengers. A grand masquerade ball will be given on board the “White Rose” on the evening of the 30th inst., and arrangements will be made to continue the amusement every night during the round trip. The grand saloon is eminently suited for dancing parties, and has been gorgeously furnished with everything necessary to make the passengers comfortable. It is the intention of the captain to make the first trip one of pleasure and amusement. Reduced rates will be given to excursion parties who may apply for them for the round trip.
This advertisement (as might be expected) created quite a sensation among the fair sex of Memphis, and added very greatly to the cash receipts of silk merchants and milliner shops; while it caused a corresponding shrinkage in the money bags of doting parents of marriageable daughters. Memphis was then, and is now, famous for the beauty of her women, and the muddiness of her streets. Cotton bales and pretty women seem to be a spontaneous production in and about Memphis, and, in spite of bad government and yellow fever epidemics, she is handsome and lively still.
“Well, Sam, old fellow, what do you think of the prospect?”
“Splendid! we have made a ten strike this time—every room has been engaged, and still they come.”
“Is she not a beauty, Sam?”
“Never saw her match in my life. What’s the time, captain?”
“Eight thirty, and time for the maskers to begin to arrive; by the by, here they come now. Has the music arrived?”
“Long, long ago, captain; everything is ready.”
“Good, Sam; we must put our best foot foremost to-night; much depends on first impressions. Have you got plenty of wines and ice?”
“Oceans, oceans of all kinds.”
This conversation occurred on board of the “White Rose,” between Captain Quitman and Samuel Brazzleman, who were both rejoicing at the prospect of a remunerative trip, which was to begin on the next morning. Before nine o’clock the dazzling lights in the long saloon were streaming down on the vast crowd of maskers as they glided along through the mazes of the dance; while soft, sweet sounds floated out on the night air. Fantastic costumes, sparkling jewels, white, blue and red plumes, rustling silk, shining satin, soft velvet, sparkling diamonds, high-heeled boots, splendid music, the popping of champagne bottles, the hum of many voices, the merry laughter, the brisk and graceful movement of charming women, were all contributing to the dazzling show. All kinds of costumes were to be seen, old-fashioned and new, gaudy and plain. Mary, Queen of Scots, with her rich, royal costume of Scotland, all bedecked with sparkling diamonds, was dancing with Ingomar, the Barbarian Chief, with his savage beard reaching to his waist, and his top-boots all shaded with gold. The knight of Ivanhoe, with his glittering armor on, was dancing with the first maid of honor, who wore blue silk, and yellow mask. Don Quixote, the Knight of Salamanca, dressed in shabby but quaint armor, was jumping high and awkwardly, as he danced with the second maid of honor, who was a graceful dancer, dressed in orange-colored silk with pink mask. Henry of Navarre, with his black plume waving high above the throng, was marching up and down the saloon with the queen of Sheba leaning on his arm. Sancho Panza, with his clownish costume, was playing the clown to perfection, to the great amusement of the children. The Duke of Wellington and Napoleon were taking a mint julep at the bar, while George III. was quarreling with Sam Brazzleman because he wouldn’t tell him the name of the lady who represented the Queen of Scots.
“Positively against our rules to divulge the names of parties in mask, without their consent,” says Sam.
“Well, does she reside in Memphis?”
“Can’t answer; I tell you it is contrary to orders.”
“Is she going to New Orleans on this boat?”
“Yes.”
“Good! I’ll find out who she is, if I follow her to the other side of the world!” and the imitator of the defunct tyrant made his way to where the mysterious queen stood conversing with her Barbarian Chief.
“Who
