Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1872-12-26

WITH MALICE II
STIN, MOWER COUNT
up Diball's in despair and blotted hin
out of my list.
Where, then2 One more Invitation
[ found, without reckoning the I" Mini
you come to us at Christmas, old fel
low" (Which never means anything be
yond meals, such houses being invari
ably full when you arrive). "Bnt yot
can have q very nice bed at the Pig ant
Whistle" Very nice! Bedroom situa
ted either over the stable, where thu
horses champ and kick all night, Of
above the taproom, where convivial
rustics persist in loudly explaining
what may happen to their delight on 6
shiny night until the small hours in the
morning. No; this was regular spe
cltic invitation to Trumpington Hall, &
glorious old specimen of Elizabetha1
architecture, situated in the heart o.
Kent, with q magnificent garden, fac
lawn sloping down to the lake, fine
corn-fields all ro1nd, and the best
shooting in the county. Inside of the
house there are fine old family pictures,
splendid oak panelling. queer little
mullioned windows, and, above all, q
night down hearty welcome. Old Sil
Max Trnmpington is a gentleman OF
the old school-open hand, warm
heart !; won't hear of your going away
when he gets you there. The house is
always full OF pleasant company-good
fellows and delightful girls. Were
there any drawbacks Yes, confound
it! always something; Twas going for
rest and health, and none but seasoned
vessels could find those at Trumping-
ton. I remembered old Sir Max being
very particular that each man should
take his regular allowance of wine,
which regular allowance (about two
bottles) it was impossible to shirk, and
the "next morning. headache was un-
avoidable; besides, had tolerably
vivid recollection that the previous
autumn, as Laura Ashton and I were
strolling through the Home Copse,
Fanny and Nelly Trumpington, who
are always up to some mischief, saw
me blow q fy-I repeat it distinctly,
blow Ay-off Laura's face. They
would not believe it was fly, chaffed
me about it before the assembled CON-
pany at dinner, and would infallibly
refer to the subject. Being fearfully
susceptible of ridicule, I dared not go
to Trumpington Hall.
The sea is q good place at Christmas.
Should I 60 to Brighton2 asked my.
self. No; I always hated Brighton as
the stronghold of monotony. Day
after day the same people. Same old
gentlemen, with mouths and nostrils
wide open, gasping and inhaling the
eea air-same officers, with tight girths
and lacquered moustaches, gallOping
up and down and dealing destruction
to the female population-same female
population nodding aud riding and
dirting-same valetudinarians in same
Bath chairs-same tarry-trousered man
shouting, "Sail, sir!" and pointing to
same boat-same lookout man at the
custom-house looking through same
telescope-same noise and galloping,
and driving and flirting, and blue sky
and red pavement, day after day.
No; ] was utterly at loss, and was
going to give up any expedition in des-
pair and decide upon remaining in
town, when a sudden thought flashed
upon me: I would 60 to Germany, to
that old town on the banks Of the
Rhine where 1 had passed my student
days, and pass the Christmas in the
society of the university students and
the artists who there do congregate.
There I should get q cordial
welcome; there I should be al
lowed to do as I liked, and
the change of language and manners
would brighten nae up and restore me
for the winter campaign. My deter
mination was scarcely complete when
began to act upon it, obtained pass
port and started of.
will pass over my journey to Dus-
selberg ard my reception there on
Christmas morning by my old com
rades. Suffice it to say that of twenty
invitations / accepted two-one to din
ner at one o'clock, at a great meeting
of artists and students held in the Box
halle, their principal k,seipe or drink
ing house; the other to supper at the
house of an Englishman named Wood
bridge who had come to reside at Dus-
selberg since my time, and to whom
this was my first introduction.
"You must come to Woodbridge's
supper" said O'Scardon, a six-foot
Irishman in the Austrian service, and
an old friend Of mine, "you must come
to Woodbridge's supper, for Of all the
devils you ever saw he tops 'em all.
We can't make out what he is. He's
heaps of money, but no one knows
how he gets it or who he is. He COL
lects q wonderful lot of people round
him, some of the fastest and most RI
otous of the students here, and he's al
ways got a Polish count with him. o
g0od-looking, impertinent scoundrel,
who is SO dreadfully offensive that nv
longing to kick him is growing into q
positive disease. Woodbridge, though
he has only been domesticated here "a
few months, has already had several
rows with the police and government !;
and, as they say to.night's supper is to
be the boldest thing he has yet at.
tempted, I advise you by all means to
come"
After having been talked to in this
strain, I need scarcely say that I looked
forward to my supper at Woodbridge's
with much curiosity. The remainder
of the day was spent in lounging about
and in very noisy dinner with the
students, and at about eight in the
evening + found myself at Woodbridge'a
lodgings.
He occupied handsome apartments
over the shop Of the principal saddler
of the town; and when arrived there
were some ten or q dozen young men
seated about, some of whom I knew,
Scarcely, however, had my name been
announced before q tall, elegant look.
ing man of about thirty years of age
stepped forward, and, addressing me,
apologized for Wooodbridge's temper.
ary absence, introduced himself as
Count Zintorski, and begged me to
take cigar and make myself at home.
There was frankness in the fellows
address which corresponded but badly
with look Of subdued distrust and
stiffness in his eyes, and I fell
I could not reciprocate Lis ap.
parent warmth. Our host soon
after arrived, and the party being very
shortly completed, we sat down to q
!. game of vingt-et-un to pass the time
until supper arrived. Now, hating
cards with all my heart, and never
playing except when politeness com
pels me, I happen always to enjoy won