The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-01-08
DE GOBBLES.

A FASHIONABLE MYSTERY.
When we were at school together De Gobbles
and l were intimate friends. In fact, as we
fought each other with great punctuality once
week, / may say we loved one another like
brothers.
After we left school we did not meet for many
years. He went abroad, and stayed at home,
which was one of the CHIEF reasons why we saw
80 little of one another
He had been in England about year, when
learning his address, resolved to call on him.
When we parted at school l lent him half-a-
crown and my pea-sbooter and wished to see
If he had a soul of honor and would return them
called at his chambers in the Albany and
was at once ushered into his room. He wac sit
ting on the sofa in an embroidered dressing
gown. His countenancc wore a strange air OF
depression and bewilderment
"De Gobbles, my boy" said ], with all the
warmth of our old affection, chow are your"
Because the one kisses his missus, and the
other misses his kisses, said he, gazing at me
in vacant manner.
"Why, hullo!" / exclaimed, What is the
matter Z"
He gave a sickly smile, and said when it's
| a-jar."
l could see that his brain was affected. was
the prey of conflicting feelings, because painful
as the spectacle was, it was gratifying to think
| that the friend of my boyhood was capable of
| suffering from an affection of the brain.
"My dear De Gobbles," said l, sitting beside
him and taking his hand, ''what ails you ?"
Because he's head-scenter," was his reply,
which at once convinced me Of the hopelessness
| of his disorder.
In time and by degrees, combined with dry
sherry, got him to be more cool and collected.
He told me his sad story.
He loved and was-as he fondly hoped-be-
loved again. The lady Of his choice moved in
good society, and SO did De Gobbles
His adored had one failing. She spent her
| whole time in constructing or solving riddles.
| 1t was owing to his constant efforts to engage
her affection by sharing her pursuits that my
poor friend was reduced to such state of men,
| tai prostration that everything in the form of
| question appeared to him in the light of ardde.
The course of true love had gone smoothly
enough with him until that morning, when on
visiting his affianced he received shock that
narrowed up his gentle and sympathetic soul.
The object of his attachment had greeted him
on his entrance with these remarkable words
"BlOodshotten, barbarian, bacchanallan, be-
| holden, Experimentation"
II was an insult his lofty soul could not brook.
| He left her presen never to behold her more.
rushed to the mantelpiece, snatched down a
pair of bellows, and placing the muzzle to his
temple, before | could interfere-blew his brains
out
hurried off to break the sad tidings to his
betrothed. told her that her cruel words had
driven him to the rash act.
"Wby," said She II was only solving the
Double Acrostic in The Weekly Whirl Of Fash
ion. Just run back and tell him SOL"
did, but it was useless. So we buried him.
He never spoke again. But then we didn't eX-
pect him to do so. If we had we should have
asked him a riddle. His last words were, u
giveitup." We hadn't the heart to take it, though.
The bishops daughter never solved the acrostic.
The Whirl Of Fashion never reached second
number and the result is that to this day she re-
mains in ignorance.
Such are few of the awful results of indul-
gence in Charades and Double Acrostlcs, vice
to which we owe all the murders, coroners' in
quests lunatic asylums, patent corkscrews
brass-headed nails, and other horrors of civiliza
ton,