mrfakename/libritts-texts · Datasets at Hugging Face

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He dressed in the extreme of fashion; spent a good deal of time strutting up and down Market street, switching his rattan; boarded at one of the hotels; drank wines freely, and pretended to be quite a judge of their quality; swore round oaths occasionally, and talked of his honour as a gentleman.
"Take care what you say, or you may find yourself called to account for using improper language about this gentleman.
It happened, one day, that the tailor of Briarly asked him if he knew any thing about L--.
A man who doesn't pay his tailor's bill, I consider no gentleman.
There were plenty to assure L--that for this insult he must, if he wished to be considered a gentleman, challenge Briarly, and shoot him--if he could.
"Then I should say that the word of a gentleman isn't worth much," smilingly remarked Briarly.
"Every man must be permitted to have his own standard of gentility."
No one, of course believed Tom to be sincere in all this.
His name was L--, and he hailed from Richmond, we believe, and built some consequence upon the fact that he was a son of the Old Dominion.
In a few days, however, Tom appeared abroad again, quite as handsomely dressed as before, alleging that his uncle had taken compassion on him, and, out of admiration for his honest principles, paid off his bills and made a gentleman of him once more.
To "become" is not, perhaps, what is aimed at, so much as to make people believe that they are gentlemen; for if you should happen to insinuate any thing to the contrary, no matter how wide from the mark they go, you may expect to receive summary punishment for your insolence.
THE efforts which certain young men make, on entering the world, to become gentlemen, is not a little amusing to sober, thoughtful lookers on.
It was looked upon as one of his waggish tricks, intended to hit off some one, or perhaps the whole class of fine tailor-made gentlemen who forget their benefactors.
"A patch on your elbow, Tom, as I live!" said one; "and here's another on your vest.
Shortly after this, it happened that L--made Briarly angry about something, when the latter very unceremoniously took hold of the handle on the young man's face, and moved his head around.
Friend after friend stopped him, and, in astonishment, inquired the cause of this change.
I may strut up and down Market street in fine clothes, switch my rattan about, talk nonsense to silly ladies, swear, and drink wine; but if I don't pay my tailor, I'm no gentleman."
"Very well; then L--must be a gentleman, for he has a great deal to say about his honour."
"Be sure you don't owe your tailor any thing, for if you do, I will not stoop to accept your challenge," returned Briarly.
There was a general laugh, but few of Tom's auditors felt very much flattered by his words.
But we will give his own account of the matter, as related to three or four young bucks in an oyster-house, where they happened to meet him.
"We may put on airs of gentility, boast of independence and spirit, and all that; but it's a mean kind of gentility that will let a man flourish about in a fine coat for which he owes his tailor.
While Tom was metamorphosed as stated, Briarly was waited upon one day, by a young man, who presented him with a challenge to mortal combat from the insulted L--, and desired him to name his friend.
"He doesn't pay his tailor, he doesn't pay his boot-maker, he doesn't pay his hatter--he is, therefore, no gentleman, and I cannot fight him."
Among those who were thrown into the society of this L--, was a young man, named Briarly, who had rather more basis to his character, and who, although he dressed well, and moved in good society, by no means founded thereon his claim to be called a gentleman.
If L--sends me a challenge, I will refuse to fight him on that ground."
But if he should challenge me, I will refuse to fight him, on the ground that he is no gentleman."
"My honour is in pawn, and will remain so until I pay these bills.
"Better wear patched garments than owe for new ones," replied Tom, with great sobriety.
I am trying to pay these off--trying to become a gentleman."
"In return for which I will post him as no gentleman, and give the evidence," replied Briarly.
"Oh, no. I'm only trying to become a gentleman," meekly replied Tom, though a close observer could see a slight twitching in the corner of his mouth, and a slight twinkle in the corner of his eye.
Then I shall feel like holding up my head again, and looking gentlemen in the face."
Fortunately, the body moved with the head, or the consequences might have been serious.
"It would degrade him to fight with a tailor," replied the man of shears.
You will hear from me shortly," said the second, turning away.
All this was said with the utmost gravity, and with a decision of tone and manner that left no doubt of the intention.
"You will be posted as a coward," said the second, fiercely.
The oddness of this conceit, and the boldness with which it was carried out, attracted attention, and made a good deal of talk at the time.
One of these characters made himself quite conspicuous, in Baltimore, a few years ago.
There! do, for mercy's sake, be quiet; every thing depends upon it."
But he still lay as insensible as before, much to the distress of his poor wife.
He had been lifted from the floor, and was now lying upon the bed.
"I found him lying upon the floor, where he had, to all appearance, fallen suddenly from his chair.
"I think, if we let him alone, it will pass off in the course of a few hours."
I looked into the face of Dr. S-- with surprise; it was perfectly grave and earnest.
I wished to make a call of importance in the neighbourhood, and proposed going, to be back by the time Dr. S-- arrived; but the friends of the sick man would not suffer me to leave the room.
Both himself and friends were mortified and grieved at this; and they, by admonition, and he, by good resolutions, tried to bring about a reform; but to see was to taste, to taste was to fall.
They would have sounded very strangely in a church, or to ears polite and refined.
He put his hand to his head, and felt it, tenderly, all over, from temple to temple, and from nape to forehead.
Oh, be very quiet; your life depends upon it." Mr. H-- sank back upon the pillow from which he had arisen, and closed his eyes to think.
I delicately hinted that he might, possibly, have been drinking too much brandy; but to this she positively and almost indignantly objected.
"Sarah," he said, "why, in the name of goodness, did you permit the doctors to butcher me in this way?
However, as I was firm in my resolution not to do any thing more for the patient until Dr. S-- came, they had to submit.
By this time, several friends and relatives, who had been sent for, arrived, and urged upon me the adoption of some more active means for restoring the sick man to consciousness.
I'm laid up for a week or two, and all for nothing."
"No, doctor, no spirits of any kind, nor even wine, in the house," returned Mrs. H--, in an offended tone.
Feeling my position to be a difficult one, I suggested that the family physician had better be called.
Just then the eyes of H-- opened, and he looked with half-stupid surprise from face to face of the anxious group that surrounded the bed.
Those nearest were not much edified by the whispered words that issued therefrom.
"I found you lying insensible upon the floor, on happening to come into your room.
I suggested that it might be well to use a stomach-pump.
At the same time, feeling a strange sensation about his head, he placed his hand rather heavily thereon.
After we left, the friends stood anxiously around the bed upon which the sick man lay; but though the blister began to draw, no signs of returning consciousness showed themselves, further than an occasional low moan, or an uneasy tossing of the arms.
"What is the matter with Mr. H--?" I asked, on meeting his lady, who was in tears and looking the picture of distress.
It was most providential that I discovered you when I did, or you would certainly have died."
"He has not been from home to-day, and there is no drug of any kind in the house."
His face is purple, and though he breathes, it is with great difficulty."
When Dr. S-- came, we conversed aside for a few minutes, and I gave him my views of the case, and stated what I had done and why I had done it.
I did not call again, but I heard from Dr. S-- the result.
"If he should not recover during the action of the blister, don't feel uneasy; sensibility will be restored soon after."
"You have been very ill; there, there, now!" And she spoke soothingly.
A wig, after the sores made by the blister had disappeared, concealed the barber's work until his own hair grew again.
"Something else must be done, doctor," she urged, seeing that bleeding had accomplished nothing.
Then he turned his face to the wall, muttering in a low, petulant voice--"Too bad! too bad!
Thus urged, I, after some reflection, ordered a bowl and bandage, and opening a vein, from which the blood flowed freely, relieved him of about eight ounces of his circulating medium.
A few ounces of blood taken from his arm may give life to the now stagnant circulation of the blood in his veins."
He got on pretty well for a few days, particularly so, as his coachman kept a well-filled bottle for him in the carriage-house, to which he not unfrequently resorted; but a too ardent devotion to this bottle brought on the supposed apoplexy.
At last, his friends urged him to shut himself up at home for a certain time, and see if total abstinence would not give him strength.
H-- kept quiet on the subject, and bore his shaved head upon his shoulders with as much philosophy as he could muster.
"Don't you think his head ought to be shaved and blistered?" asked the wife, anxiously.
"For mercy's sake, keep quiet," said the wife, the glad tears gushing over her face.
One proposed mustard plasters all over his body; another a blister on the head; another his immersion in hot water.
On arriving at the house, I found Mrs. H-- in great distress of mind.
Finding him out of danger, friends and relatives retired, and the sick man was left alone with his family.
He never ventured upon wine or brandy again for fear of apoplexy.
"Let it remain on for two hours, and then make use of the ordinary dressing," said Dr. S--.
Dr. S-- was right in his mode of treating the disease after all, and did not err in supposing that it would reach the predisposition. The cure was effectual.
H-- had a weakness; he could not taste wine nor strong drink without being tempted into excess.
Sure enough, his face was purple and his breathing laboured, but somehow the symptoms did not indicate apoplexy.
I WAS once sent for, in great haste, to attend a gentleman of respectability, whose wife, a lady of intelligence and refinement, had discovered him in his room lying senseless upon the floor.
When the truth leaked out, as leak out such things always will, the friends of H-- had many a hearty laugh; but they wisely concealed from the object of their merriment the fact that they knew any thing more than appeared of the cause of his supposed illness.
H-- shut his eyes and muttered something, with an air of impatience; but its meaning was not understood.
For full two hours the burning plaster parched the tender skin of H--'s shorn head, and was then removed; it had done good service.
"It has done no good; hadn't we better send for the doctor?" suggested the wife.
I was not the regular family physician, and had been called in to meet the alarming emergency, because my office happened to be nearest to the dwelling of Mr. H--.
We then proceeded to the bedside of our patient; there were still no signs of approaching consciousness.
I hinted to him my doubt of the good that mode of treatment would do; but he spoke confidently of the result, and said that it would not only cure the disease, but, he believed, take away the predisposition thereto, with which Mr. H-- was affected in a high degree.
Dr. S-- thought a moment, and then said--"Yes, by all means.
The head of H-- was shaved, and Dr. S-- applied the blister with his own hands, which completely covered the scalp from forehead to occiput.

He dressed in the extreme of fashion; spent a good deal of time strutting up and down Market street, switching his rattan; boarded at one of the hotels; drank wines freely, and pretended to be quite a judge of their quality; swore round oaths occasionally, and talked of his honour as a gentleman.

"Take care what you say, or you may find yourself called to account for using improper language about this gentleman.

It happened, one day, that the tailor of Briarly asked him if he knew any thing about L--.

A man who doesn't pay his tailor's bill, I consider no gentleman.

There were plenty to assure L--that for this insult he must, if he wished to be considered a gentleman, challenge Briarly, and shoot him--if he could.

"Then I should say that the word of a gentleman isn't worth much," smilingly remarked Briarly.

"Every man must be permitted to have his own standard of gentility."

No one, of course believed Tom to be sincere in all this.

His name was L--, and he hailed from Richmond, we believe, and built some consequence upon the fact that he was a son of the Old Dominion.

In a few days, however, Tom appeared abroad again, quite as handsomely dressed as before, alleging that his uncle had taken compassion on him, and, out of admiration for his honest principles, paid off his bills and made a gentleman of him once more.

To "become" is not, perhaps, what is aimed at, so much as to make people believe that they are gentlemen; for if you should happen to insinuate any thing to the contrary, no matter how wide from the mark they go, you may expect to receive summary punishment for your insolence.

THE efforts which certain young men make, on entering the world, to become gentlemen, is not a little amusing to sober, thoughtful lookers on.

It was looked upon as one of his waggish tricks, intended to hit off some one, or perhaps the whole class of fine tailor-made gentlemen who forget their benefactors.

"A patch on your elbow, Tom, as I live!" said one; "and here's another on your vest.

Shortly after this, it happened that L--made Briarly angry about something, when the latter very unceremoniously took hold of the handle on the young man's face, and moved his head around.

Friend after friend stopped him, and, in astonishment, inquired the cause of this change.

I may strut up and down Market street in fine clothes, switch my rattan about, talk nonsense to silly ladies, swear, and drink wine; but if I don't pay my tailor, I'm no gentleman."

"Very well; then L--must be a gentleman, for he has a great deal to say about his honour."

"Be sure you don't owe your tailor any thing, for if you do, I will not stoop to accept your challenge," returned Briarly.

There was a general laugh, but few of Tom's auditors felt very much flattered by his words.

But we will give his own account of the matter, as related to three or four young bucks in an oyster-house, where they happened to meet him.

"We may put on airs of gentility, boast of independence and spirit, and all that; but it's a mean kind of gentility that will let a man flourish about in a fine coat for which he owes his tailor.

While Tom was metamorphosed as stated, Briarly was waited upon one day, by a young man, who presented him with a challenge to mortal combat from the insulted L--, and desired him to name his friend.

"He doesn't pay his tailor, he doesn't pay his boot-maker, he doesn't pay his hatter--he is, therefore, no gentleman, and I cannot fight him."

Among those who were thrown into the society of this L--, was a young man, named Briarly, who had rather more basis to his character, and who, although he dressed well, and moved in good society, by no means founded thereon his claim to be called a gentleman.

If L--sends me a challenge, I will refuse to fight him on that ground."

But if he should challenge me, I will refuse to fight him, on the ground that he is no gentleman."

"My honour is in pawn, and will remain so until I pay these bills.

"Better wear patched garments than owe for new ones," replied Tom, with great sobriety.

I am trying to pay these off--trying to become a gentleman."

"In return for which I will post him as no gentleman, and give the evidence," replied Briarly.

"Oh, no. I'm only trying to become a gentleman," meekly replied Tom, though a close observer could see a slight twitching in the corner of his mouth, and a slight twinkle in the corner of his eye.

Then I shall feel like holding up my head again, and looking gentlemen in the face."

Fortunately, the body moved with the head, or the consequences might have been serious.

"It would degrade him to fight with a tailor," replied the man of shears.

You will hear from me shortly," said the second, turning away.

All this was said with the utmost gravity, and with a decision of tone and manner that left no doubt of the intention.

"You will be posted as a coward," said the second, fiercely.

The oddness of this conceit, and the boldness with which it was carried out, attracted attention, and made a good deal of talk at the time.

One of these characters made himself quite conspicuous, in Baltimore, a few years ago.

There! do, for mercy's sake, be quiet; every thing depends upon it."

But he still lay as insensible as before, much to the distress of his poor wife.

He had been lifted from the floor, and was now lying upon the bed.

"I found him lying upon the floor, where he had, to all appearance, fallen suddenly from his chair.

"I think, if we let him alone, it will pass off in the course of a few hours."

I looked into the face of Dr. S-- with surprise; it was perfectly grave and earnest.

I wished to make a call of importance in the neighbourhood, and proposed going, to be back by the time Dr. S-- arrived; but the friends of the sick man would not suffer me to leave the room.

Both himself and friends were mortified and grieved at this; and they, by admonition, and he, by good resolutions, tried to bring about a reform; but to see was to taste, to taste was to fall.

They would have sounded very strangely in a church, or to ears polite and refined.

He put his hand to his head, and felt it, tenderly, all over, from temple to temple, and from nape to forehead.

Oh, be very quiet; your life depends upon it." Mr. H-- sank back upon the pillow from which he had arisen, and closed his eyes to think.

I delicately hinted that he might, possibly, have been drinking too much brandy; but to this she positively and almost indignantly objected.

"Sarah," he said, "why, in the name of goodness, did you permit the doctors to butcher me in this way?

However, as I was firm in my resolution not to do any thing more for the patient until Dr. S-- came, they had to submit.

By this time, several friends and relatives, who had been sent for, arrived, and urged upon me the adoption of some more active means for restoring the sick man to consciousness.

I'm laid up for a week or two, and all for nothing."

"No, doctor, no spirits of any kind, nor even wine, in the house," returned Mrs. H--, in an offended tone.

Feeling my position to be a difficult one, I suggested that the family physician had better be called.

Just then the eyes of H-- opened, and he looked with half-stupid surprise from face to face of the anxious group that surrounded the bed.

Those nearest were not much edified by the whispered words that issued therefrom.

"I found you lying insensible upon the floor, on happening to come into your room.

I suggested that it might be well to use a stomach-pump.

At the same time, feeling a strange sensation about his head, he placed his hand rather heavily thereon.

After we left, the friends stood anxiously around the bed upon which the sick man lay; but though the blister began to draw, no signs of returning consciousness showed themselves, further than an occasional low moan, or an uneasy tossing of the arms.

"What is the matter with Mr. H--?" I asked, on meeting his lady, who was in tears and looking the picture of distress.

It was most providential that I discovered you when I did, or you would certainly have died."

"He has not been from home to-day, and there is no drug of any kind in the house."

His face is purple, and though he breathes, it is with great difficulty."

When Dr. S-- came, we conversed aside for a few minutes, and I gave him my views of the case, and stated what I had done and why I had done it.

I did not call again, but I heard from Dr. S-- the result.

"If he should not recover during the action of the blister, don't feel uneasy; sensibility will be restored soon after."

"You have been very ill; there, there, now!" And she spoke soothingly.

A wig, after the sores made by the blister had disappeared, concealed the barber's work until his own hair grew again.

"Something else must be done, doctor," she urged, seeing that bleeding had accomplished nothing.

Then he turned his face to the wall, muttering in a low, petulant voice--"Too bad! too bad!

Thus urged, I, after some reflection, ordered a bowl and bandage, and opening a vein, from which the blood flowed freely, relieved him of about eight ounces of his circulating medium.

A few ounces of blood taken from his arm may give life to the now stagnant circulation of the blood in his veins."

He got on pretty well for a few days, particularly so, as his coachman kept a well-filled bottle for him in the carriage-house, to which he not unfrequently resorted; but a too ardent devotion to this bottle brought on the supposed apoplexy.

At last, his friends urged him to shut himself up at home for a certain time, and see if total abstinence would not give him strength.

H-- kept quiet on the subject, and bore his shaved head upon his shoulders with as much philosophy as he could muster.

"Don't you think his head ought to be shaved and blistered?" asked the wife, anxiously.

"For mercy's sake, keep quiet," said the wife, the glad tears gushing over her face.

One proposed mustard plasters all over his body; another a blister on the head; another his immersion in hot water.

On arriving at the house, I found Mrs. H-- in great distress of mind.

Finding him out of danger, friends and relatives retired, and the sick man was left alone with his family.

He never ventured upon wine or brandy again for fear of apoplexy.

"Let it remain on for two hours, and then make use of the ordinary dressing," said Dr. S--.

Dr. S-- was right in his mode of treating the disease after all, and did not err in supposing that it would reach the predisposition. The cure was effectual.

H-- had a weakness; he could not taste wine nor strong drink without being tempted into excess.

Sure enough, his face was purple and his breathing laboured, but somehow the symptoms did not indicate apoplexy.

I WAS once sent for, in great haste, to attend a gentleman of respectability, whose wife, a lady of intelligence and refinement, had discovered him in his room lying senseless upon the floor.

When the truth leaked out, as leak out such things always will, the friends of H-- had many a hearty laugh; but they wisely concealed from the object of their merriment the fact that they knew any thing more than appeared of the cause of his supposed illness.

H-- shut his eyes and muttered something, with an air of impatience; but its meaning was not understood.

For full two hours the burning plaster parched the tender skin of H--'s shorn head, and was then removed; it had done good service.

"It has done no good; hadn't we better send for the doctor?" suggested the wife.

I was not the regular family physician, and had been called in to meet the alarming emergency, because my office happened to be nearest to the dwelling of Mr. H--.

We then proceeded to the bedside of our patient; there were still no signs of approaching consciousness.

I hinted to him my doubt of the good that mode of treatment would do; but he spoke confidently of the result, and said that it would not only cure the disease, but, he believed, take away the predisposition thereto, with which Mr. H-- was affected in a high degree.

Dr. S-- thought a moment, and then said--"Yes, by all means.

The head of H-- was shaved, and Dr. S-- applied the blister with his own hands, which completely covered the scalp from forehead to occiput.