The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-07-21
THE THREE NApIEs.

THE THREE NAnIES.
For more than four years the three
names painted on tho doorway of No.
Old Inn remained unaltered The house
itself was the smallest in the Inn. AL
the other houses contained six sets o
chambers; No. 9-cramped up in o cor
ner-had only three sets. They were
each occupied by single tenant, ani
their names, as painted on the doorway
were "Mr. Bolt, second hoor;" "Mr
Hay, frat hoor;" ''NIr. Firth, ground
floor"
was Mr.. Hay, of the first floor. Mr.
Bolt. of the second floor, and I were no
on speaking terms. We had frequently
met on the stairs and in the passage un
der our common roof. knew him very
we'll by sight. He was tall, thin man
some years younger than I, pleasant
looking, notwithstanding q broken nose
and huge red whiskers. He had noisy
blundering way of moving about; always
rushed up the stairs three at time, kick
ing and banging his great boots against
the woodwork. "That's Bolt'' I use6
to say, as his footsteps came tumbline
up to my floor, and then went tumbline
up to his own. I don't know whether he
broke his nose over those stairs before ]
went to No. 8, but I always expected
that he would break it again whenever ]
heard him return home.
Now, Mr.. Firth, of the ground-hoor
was different in every way. knew him
equally we'll by sight; hut he and I, like
wise, were not on speaking terms. He
was short and inclined to be stout. He
never seemed in hurry. He never made
a noise, except on the piano, and ever
the tone of that was soft and subdueo
like himself.
So we three-the noisy gentleman or
the>second floor, the musical gentleman
on the ground-hoor, and myself don
know what the other two called me, pro.
badly the gentleman with the dog-liveC
for four years in the same house, and YET
were strangers to one another. II
seemed part of ones daily life constantly
to see Mr.. Firth, or to hear Mr.. Boil
come tumbling up the stairs; part Of
ones daily care to prevent becoming nc
quainted with either; part of the plea
sure of ones vacation to get away from
them, as it was to get away from the
bundles of law papers and clients let
ters.
So, last autumn, when I went tc
Switzerland, endured the sea passage
bore patiently the sleepless night Jour
neys by rail, and the hot morning drive
by diligence, cheered by the thought
that was adding mile after mile to the
distance between me and Old Inn and
everything connected with it. And oil
for what? For the very first person
met at Chamouni to be Mr.. Firth in
tweeds, instead of Mr.. Firth in broad.
cloth. He was standing just inside the
salle-a-manger, looking for seat at the
long table, at which the diners were al.
ready assembled.
AS I enter, he turns round, and we
look ut one another defiantly, with sort
of "Well! heve as much right here as
you" and then face to the right and left
respectively. He goes down one half oi
the table, and go up to the other,
hoping toput the whole length of it be.
tween us. There is no vacant seat on
that side, 80 1 walk round the end to the
other side, and, to my disgust, see that
he has done the same. We face each
other again, are obliged by necessity to
converge towards the same point, and
finally seat ourselves near the centre Of
the table, with only little Frenchman
between us.
Ihe hrst two courses we eat in silence,
eltner starlng NJ our plates or ut the wall
before u.s. Pending the third course,
the Frenchman turns to Mr.. Firth, but
that gentleman, not wishing to look nv
way, tries hard to escape the proffered
conversation. The Frenchman, how.
ever, who speaks English very we'll, has
no intention of being shaken off, and
common courtesy forces Mr.. Firth tc
answer.
''Do yon come from London?" again
begins the little tormentor, rs soon as
the dessert commences
eyes"
"Ah! it is fine city that London.
know it well. From what part of Lon.
don do you Gomez"
"Old Inn."
Indeed! Do you know o Mr.. Smith
at Old Imp"
"No."