Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1866-05-19
Joues and the Writer.

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bad humor | was passing the palace of
Jones. There was handsome carriage
awaiting at the door, and presently
Jones himself came down the steps, as
sisted by footman, and entered it
Jones' hair was slightly gray, but be had
plump, ruddy face, and looked like a
person who enjoyed himself Seeing
that Jones was going out for his pleas
ure at three clock in the afternoon, I
thought it probable that he had nothing
else to do on the face of the earth but
to enjoy himself. This man, thought I
to myself, is sort of tortunatus.-
Whenever he puts his hand in his pock-
ct he finds money there. He is notob-
liged to make an effort to obtain it. He
tolls not, neither does he spin; yet he
is magnificent, and has all the pleasures
of the world at his command. Now,
the aggravating reflection about this, is
that if Jones did toll and spin be
wouldn't be half so we'll off as he is
What encouragement is there for me to
go home-to Hoxton-and rack my brain
when all my best efforts are not equal
ia substantial result to Jones' doing
nothing? write tragedy, he has but
to write check. This undistinguished
Jones is my bloatea aristocrat. When
I see him lolliug in his carriage chink-
ing the .sovereigns in his pocket, l feel
ready for the barricades. | mutter be-
tween my teeth:
"Dewn with the bloated Joneses !"
ask, again, where do all of these
common people get their money? How
should it be such an easy thing for them
and such difficult thing for me? How
provokingly cool they are over it. But
if I, after hard struggle, obtain pos
session of hundred pounds or SO, 1 am
as nervous as possible until I get it safe
ly into the bank. And even then my
mind is not at rest. What if the bank
should break If had five thousand
pounds instead of five hundred to my
account, 1 feel certain l should never
trouble myself about the stability of the
bank That is what 1 envy-not wealth
itself, but its potentality
When | saw Jones in his carriage
roll off from his door, I went my way
in very ill.humor 1 don't know that
wanted anything that day. All was
right at Hoxton; no duns, nor disagree
ables of any kind. l had seen my name
in the papers "risins young man, rap
idly reaching the top round of the lad
der ''-one paper said had reached it
already 1t was very fine day /; 1 was
in very good health; l had several
loose sovereigns in my pocket; and for
that day, and for several more if I
chose, 1 had nothing to do but to enjoy
myself. Still | was hypped and out of
humor. When l had wandered about
many hours among the gay scenes of the
West End, seeking unalloyed pleasure
and finding it not, 1 turned into a fa-
nous supper room, where the digestion
is promoted by minstrelsy. l had heard
that to sit in this room and eat chops
and baked potatoes while tuneful
choir, inspired by the divine Nine, sing
glees and madrigals, was to compass the
very round and top of human enjoy
ment. had heard that those chops
and potatoes, accompanied by the Tyre,
were medicine for the mind diseased !;
that they were potent to raze out the
written troubles of the brain, and cleanse
the stuff that weighs upon the heart =
Remembering these things 1 said to
myself, eff a man should need an an
tidote to poisoned thoughts, this should
be the shop where he may purchase it. :"
I entered and encountered the good
apothecary. His looks were not mea-
ger his weeds we're not tattered. On
the contrary, he had very jolly, rubi-
cundsface, and wore most unexcep-
tiohable surtout. He smiled, shook me
BY the hand, gave me stuff from chest
(box is not the word, and called me his
dear boy. The pain in my temper was
vanishing at the very sight of the good
apothecary. Ere the medicinal chop and
potato were set before me. that pain de-
parted. Yes, yes; l am wiling to own
it. L am becoming reconciled to Hox-
ton, when suddenly my eye falls upon
an;elderly gentleman at one end of the
table. 1t is Jones He is sitting drink
ing claret out of a crystal goblet, smok-
ing very choice cigar-I know it BY
the ashland listening to the music with
his eyes shut notice that his clothes
are fine and rich /; his fingers are COW
cred with sparkling rings; his cambric
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