The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1873-06-07
CHAPTER l.

which Sheridan died in 1914, was occupied
by Phileas Fogge, one of the MEMBERSHIP
most remarkable and eccentric-of the Lon
don Reform Club
Phileas Fogg-an enigmatie person, OF
whom no one knew any thing-eXcept that
he WIS % an high English family, and gal
liant gentleman, and filled the chair in the
Reform Club, vacated by one OF EDSiands
greatest statesmen.
Thov said he resembled Byron--bu3 BY
ron cold, without passion-impassible-w
could have lived thousand years, without
growing old He was Engish-assuredly-
not perhaps Londoner for he had never
been seen on Change, at the Bank or any of
the business houses of the city. None OF the
dock yards or docks received ship owned by
or consigned to him-and his pame never
figured in any administrative committee,
never echoed in the College of Advocates. at
Lincoln's Inn or at Gray's Inn. He never
made plea in the Court of Chancery, at the
Queens Bench, at the EXchequer or at the
Ecclesiastical ''ourt. He was neither mer-
chant, manufacttr nor agricultuiist He
was member ofthe London Reform Club
that was all. f.aAss
If any one is surprised that a gentleman so
mysterious should have been ad nitted among
the members of this honorable association,
it will be answered, that he passed upo1. the
recommendation the Messrs. Barring Bros,
at whose house he had an open account, for a
certain distinction attaches to one whose
checks are regularly paid at sight, and whose
bank account is Invariably creditor.
Was Mr.. Phileas Fogg rich? Unquestion-
bly-but how he had made his money the
best inform ID could not say-and Mr.. Fogg
was the last person to give any inform alton.
He as not prodigal ;neither was he miserly-
for when money was needed for any noble,
generous or useful object, he gave freely and,
as often as possible, anonymously. No one
was less communicative than he; he talked
very little and seemed the more mysterious
because he was so silent. Nevertheless his
life was open as the day, but what he did was
so mathematcally The same thing always,
that the dissatisfied imagination fancied some
thing concealed.
Had he travelled? 1t was probable-tor no
one possessed better than he, knowledge of
20 the world There was no spot SO remote but
that he seemed to have some special knowi
edge of it. Sometimes, in few brief, clear
words, he answered the thousand and one
questions which circulated in the Club in re-
gard to travellers lost or astray-he pointed
GU. the true probabilities, and his words
seemed to be inspired by second sight, SO
often did the events justify them. This man
had travelled everywhere,-in spirit at all
events-but whatever may have happened
formerly, it is certain that for many years
Phileas Fogg had never left London. i ~.
Those who had the honor to know him a
little intimately, asserted that, if il was not
on the dilect way that he came each day from
his house to the club, no one could pretend to
have seen him elsewhere. His only pastime
was to read the journals, and play whist. In
this silent game, so well suited t. his nature,
he often won; but his gains never went into
his own purse,-they counted an important
sum in his budget of charity. Otherwise,
one must say, Phileas Fogg evidently played
for the play and not for gain. The game was
to him contest, a combat, out battle with
out movement, disturbance or difficulty-witk-
out fatigue-and that was his character.
No one knew whether he had wife or
children, parents or friends.
He lived alone in his mansion in Savile
Row, no one went there and only one domes-
tic served him.
He breakfasted and dined at precise hours
at the Club. in the same room, at the same Ia
BILE, entertaining none of his friends, never in
wiling any strangers. He returned to his
house at midnight precisely, never using any
of the comfortable chambers, that were kept
for the use of the Club.
The mansion in Saville Row, without being
sumptuous, was thoroughly furnished for
comfort. Moreover, with the invarable hab-
its of the occupant very little service was
needed at the same time, Phneas Fogg ex-
acted OF his single domestic extreme regulali-
ty and punctuality.
He had this day, the End October, dismiss
ed John Forster from servce-the boy having
committed the great fault of carrying to him
for shaving water at "a Fahrenheit, instead of
S6,-and he waited his successor who would
present himself at half past eleven. Phileas
Fogg sat upright in his chair,his feet close to-
gether-like soldier on parade, his hands
resting on his knees, head erect, watching the
needle of the clock,-a complicated piece of
mechanism, which indicated the hours, min
utes, seconds, the days, quarters, years. As
half past eleven struck Pheas Fogg ought,
following his daily habit, to leave the mansion
to go to The Reform Club at this moment
some one knocked at the door of the room in
which Mr.. Fogg waited, and John Forster an
nounced the NEW servant
A man of about thirty years entered and
saluted him.
'You are French, and you are called Jean p,
inquired Phileas Fogg.
''Jean, with all difference to you," replied
the new conner, "Jean Passepartout 0atch
key)-a nickname given to ne for my natur-
al aptitude to get myself out of scrape. I
believe myself to be honest, but to be frank,
/ have followed many trades. / have been
strolling singer, then rider in the circus,
making the flying trapeze as Leotard, or
dancing on the tight rope as Blondin, then I
became Prot. of Gymnastics finally to render
my talents more useful was sergeant OF fire
men at Paris. But it is five years since l
took service in English family, in want of
situation, and hearing that Mr. Phileas
Fogg is the most exact and settled man in all
England, l present myself here, Sir, with
the hope to live tranquil and forget even this
name Passepart Jut.'
"Passepartout suits me,' replied the gen.
tleman, 'you are recommended. have
good reference concerning you-you know
my conditions?'
'sYes, sir.'
swell, what time are you?'
Twenty-Five minutes past eleven,'' re-
piled Passepartout, drawing from his pocket
a large silver watch.
'You are Slow" said Mr. Fogg.
"You will pardon me, Sir, but that is
impossible" .-
"You are four minutes slow-but no mat
ter, it is sufficient to state the fact. To start
from this moment, twenty-nine minutes past
eleven, this Wednesday, Oct. End 1872, you
are my servant"
Phileas Fogg arose, took his hat in his left
hand, placed it on his head with the move
ment OF an automaton, and disappeared with
out adding another word. 'V
Passepartout heard the street door close
the nrSt time-it was his new master W no
went out-then-the second time. it was his
predecessor, John Forster, who went awav
in his turn. Passepartout remained alone in
Saville Row.
''Upon my word,' SAID Passepartout to
himself, little disconnected at first, II have
seen at Madame Sussaud's show some pup
pets as wide awake as my new MASTER"
During the few instants of his interview
with Phileas Fogg, Passepartout had rapi ly,
but carefully examined him. He was about
forty years old-a fine and noble face, magnifi-
cent teeth, tall in stature, blond hair and
whiskers, forehead smooth. without any an.
pearance of wrinkles at the temples. He an
peared to possess in the highest degree what
physiognomis:s call repose in action, a facul
ty common to those who accomplish their
work without noise. Calm, phlegnatic, clear
eye, eyebrow motionless, he was the perfect
type of that English sanefroid, which one
meets so frequently in the United Kingdom.
Seen in the different acts of his lite, this
gentleman gave one the idea of being per-
fectly balanced-as perfectly as chronometer
of Leroy or Evanshard. In effect he was
exacttude personifed. Itshowed itself clear
ly in the expression of his hands and his feet.
tor with man as with animals, every member
is an organ expressive of passion.
n AI...