The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales Part 24

Brandon and his lady returned to the ball room, the latter somewhat relieved, but mortified at the deceptions which had been practised on her.

In a few minutes a burly member of the police, with a very thick stick, and a very red handkerchief knotted round his neck, made his appearance, to the astonishment and consternation of the guests, amid whom the host and hostess alone testified no excitement or alarm.

"Sarvant, ladies and gentlemen, sarvant," said the legal functionary, sc.r.a.ping his right boot, and plucking desperately at the brim of his hat. "Don't let me interrupt yer innercent amus.e.m.e.nt--sorry to intrude, as the bull said when he rushed into the china shop--but business before pleasure--now then, my hearty! how are you?"

The last words were accompanied by a vigorous blow on the shoulder of M. Auguste Charmant, who was at that moment paying his attentions to a belle from Union Square.

"_Monsieur me parle-t-il_?" exclaimed the dandy, with well-feigned astonishment.

"O, nix the lingo, French Jack," said the officer, "or leastways patter Romany so's a cove can understand you. Fork over them are dimonds--or else it will go harder with you. The boy's peached, and the game's up--you were spotted long ago."

With a smothered curse, French Jack dived his hand into his vest pocket and produced the stolen jewels. While this was enacting, the count had been quietly stealing to the door, but the vigilant officer had an eye upon his movements, and a hand upon his shoulder before he could escape.

"Now I've got the pair of you," said the worthy man, chuckling apoplectically in the folds of his red handkerchief. "Now, don't ride rusty, Joe--for there's a small few of us outside with amazin' thick sticks, that might fall on your head and hurt you, if so be you happened to be rambustical."

"Curse the luck!" muttered the thief, as with his companion he marched off.

It may well be imagined that the scene dispersed the party in a hurry.

They took French leave, like birds scattered by a sudden storm. Julia was carried to bed in hysterics, accompanied by her mother. Merton and the jeweller had disappeared, the three rogues had been taken into custody, and only Brandon and uncle Richard

----"trod alone The banquet hall deserted."

"Well, uncle," said the broker, bitterly, "the game's up. I have been ruined, stock and fluke, by letting my wife have her own way, and to-morrow I shall be a bankrupt."

"No you won't," said uncle Richard.

"Yes I shall," said the broker, angrily. "And Julia, abandoned by her lover, will be broken hearted."

"No she won't," said uncle Richard.

"Who's to prevent it?" asked the broker.

"Uncle Richard," replied that personage. "What's the use of a friend, unless he's a friend in need. I've got plenty of money, and neither chick nor child in the world. I'll meet your liabilities with cash.

Young Merton loves Julia in spite of her temporary alienation--he will gladly take her back. The rogues will get their deserts. Your wife, sick and ashamed of her fas.h.i.+onable follies, will gladly gin' up this house and the servants. You'll buy a little country seat on the Hudson, and I'll come and live with you."

As every thing turned out exactly as uncle Richard promised and predicted, we have no occasion to enlarge on the fortunate subsiding of this "sea of troubles."

ACTING CHARADES.

But, masters, remember that I am an a.s.s; though it be not written down, yet forget not that I am an a.s.s.--SHAKSPEARE, _Much Ado about Nothing._

Many of our readers have doubtless witnessed, or perchance partic.i.p.ated in, the amus.e.m.e.nt of acting charades--a divertis.e.m.e.nt much in vogue in social circles, and if cleverly done, productive of much mirth. To the uninitiated, a brief description of an acted charade may not be unacceptable. A word of two or more syllables is selected, each part of which must make sense by itself--as, for instance, the word inspector, which would be decomposed, thus; _inn spectre_. The company of performers would then extemporize a scene at a public house, leaving the spectators to guess at the first syllable, _inn_. The second scene would represent the terror occasioned by the apparition of a phantom, and give the second part of the word spectre.

The third scene would represent the whole word, and would perhaps be a brigade inspector reviewing his troops, giving occasion for the humors of a Yankee militia training. Much ingenuity is required in the selection of a word, and in carrying out the representation, with appropriate dialogue, &c.

Acting charades generally turns a house topsy turvy; wardrobes and garrets are ransacked for costumes and properties; hats, canes, umbrellas, and firearms are mustered, and old dresses that haven't seen the light for forty years are rummaged out as disguises for the actors in these extempore theatricals.

In a certain circle in this city there was a knot of clever young people, of both s.e.xes, strongly addicted to acting charades, and very happy in their execution. But they were unfortunately afflicted by an interloper,

"Whose head Was not of brains particularly full,"

one of those geniuses who have a fatal facility for making blunders.

Yet, with a pleasing unconsciousness of his deficiencies, he was always volunteering his services, and always expected, in this matter of acting charades, to be intrusted with the leading parts.

One evening the usual coterie was a.s.sembled, charades were proposed, as usual, and the little knot of performers retired to the back drawing room, dropping the curtain behind them, and prepared for their performance, congratulating themselves that Mr. Blinks, the name of the marplot, was not on hand to spoil their sport. They selected the word _catastrophe_, and the curtain went up.

A very pretty and lively young lady, who had been abroad, gave a very happy imitation of the almost inimitable Jenny Vertpre, in the French vaudeville of the "Cat metamorphosed to a Woman," in that scene where she betrays her original nature. She purred, she frolicked, she pounced on an imaginary mouse, caught it, tossed it up in the air, and went through all the manoeuvres of a veritable grimalkin. When the curtain fell, amidst roars of laughter and applause, the first syllable--cat--was whispered from mouth to mouth, among the audience.

At this moment the hated Blinks arrived in the green-room.

"What are you up to? Acting charades--eh? By Jove! I'm just in time.

You must give me a part--can't get along without me. What's the word?"

"No matter," said the young lady who had played the cat, with a wicked smile of intelligence. "Prompter, ring the curtain up. All you've got to do, Mr. Blinks, is to walk across the stage."

"But where's my dress?"

"What you have on. Appear in your own character."

The curtain went up, and Blinks stalked across with his accustomed air of intolerable stupidity. Amidst smothered laughter, the audience guessed the second syllable of the charade--_a.s.s_.

The curtain went up for the third time. A group of Indian chiefs were located in a wigwam. A young brave entered, distinguished by the eagle plume and wampum belt, the bow and hatchet, and threw down at the feet of the eldest warrior a bundle of the scalps he had brought back from battle. A hum of approbation rose from the a.s.sembly. The curtain fell.

The word _trophy_ had been thus indicated. The whole word was then represented by an appropriate scene from the close of a popular tragedy, and the spectators, cheering the performance, called out _catastrophe_ to the actors.

"Well, they made out to guess it," said Blinks, when the curtain had fallen, for the last time. "But now it's all over, you made one confounded blunder."

"What was that?" asked the wicked young lady.

"You didn't act the second syllable."

"No?"

"No! indeed!" said Blinks, with a look of intense cunning. "You had _cat_ and _trophy_--but where was the _a.s.s_?"

"O, indeed!" said the young lady.

"You see, ladies and gentleman," said Blinks, enjoying his triumph, "you can't get along without me. If I'd been here in the beginning, you'd have had the a.s.s."

"We certainly should," said the young lady, winking to her companions, who could hardly suppress their laughter.

"And I move we repeat this charade to-morrow night," said Blinks--"and mind, I'm the a.s.s."

"Of course."

"I'll get a costume and disguise myself."