The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1873-03-01
PEARL AND EMERALD.
CHAPTER |.
A TALE OF GOTHAM.

perhaps, to few, even verging upon tht
incredible; and of the incredible, people
are not fond nowadays, except in the col
umns of their daily paper. l can only
urge, in reply, that, not being fiction, it is
necessarily strange. Those who wish tC
indulge their taste for that which this mar.
rative is not, refer at once to historians
and journalists, whose trade it is to cater
for them. For my own part. l make it a
rule, and find the rule a safe one, to be
lieve everything that is contrary to expert
ence, and nothing that is in accordance
with it. lie was a wise man who said,
:: Credo quia Incredible -. believe it
Just because it is Incredible" As to the
truth Of those parts Of this story which,
being probable in themselves, trespasS,
therefore, upon the realms of fiction, Offer
no opinion. They being probable, are
probably not true. But upon the truth OF
those parts which are manifestly incred-
iblc, willingly stake fortune, reputation
all that possess in this world of lies
It is true that my reputation is not partic-
ulariy worth The having, while my fortune
has yet to be made. Bat this is my own
affair. Were l Rothschild himself, !
would still say to all cavaliers, g There lies
my glove' And, if they should reply that
my glove is not the only thing about me
that lies-why, that is their affair, not
mine.
Perhaps this, too, will be called incred-
ible.
Once upon time, a certain philosopher
of Gotham wishing, one sunshiny morning,
to know what o'clock it was, took his
lantern, lighted it, and paid visit to the
.hat stood in the market-place of
that ancient and famous Town. Now, the
fact of his taking lantern for such pur-
pose was not in itself remarkable, for his
fellow-townsmen had been in the habit of
doing so at night 2ud in cloudy weather
for generations-which vas the reason why
no two of them were ever known to agree
about the time of day. But to use LIANT
ern in full sunshine.-that was too much
even for their philosophy. And SO it was
70 matter for wonder that even the least
wise in that city OF wise ineu were impolite
enough to call our philosopher fool for
his pains.
Gotham is, of course, no more. Its site
has, of course, been swept away by that
flood of modern progress which sweeps
away all things, and reduces all mankind
to one terrible dead level Of perfect wis
dom. But, even as when the Cornish had
long become a dead language, there yet
survived one old woman who spoke it still,
so, when Gotham was no more, there were
left at least three Of its townsmen, who
survived even to our own day. There
names were Peter erode, Nathan Levi, and
Arthur Cranstoun.
CHAPTER I.-tELICIA.
There stood, and still stands, certain
house in broad and essentially respect
able street leading out of Russell Square,
in which all the houses were, and are, of SO
precisely the same comfortable and solid
pattern that there is no external reason
whatever why one of the half hundred
should call for notice more than any other,
except in so far that a little more or little
less attention to outside painting might
give it 2 little more individual character
than was possessed by its neighbors. That
of the house in question was gained from
the less care that had been bestowed upou
the whitening Of the sepulcher: III fact,
the time at which its tenant was bound by
the terms of his lease to give it at least two
coats of paint must either have been on
the very eve Of arriving, or else must have
Just elasped without the covenant having
been fulfilled. Otherwise, there was abso-
lutely nothing remarkable about it one way
or another, except that its number, painted
in dirty white letters upon the dirtiel
green door, was 30, and that at a proper
distance below the number was a dingy
brass plate, bearing the name of Mr.. erode,
In spite, however, Of this symptom OF
surgery, the absence of colorcd lantern and
nisht-bell saved Mr. erode, whoever he
might be- from being aroused by impatient
patients at unreasonable hours.
But there is nothing gained by standing
outside door. Where. in that case
would be any story, from the days of the
Bachelor of Salamanca to our OWN With
out, all looked dull and uncomfortable
but within, all was sufficiently comfortable
though still sufficiently dull. 1t is tru,
that the remembrance oil November fog:
never quite vanished from the hall ant
staircase-both rather handsome in theil
way-even iii the spring; but otherwise nj
one could deny that the neighborhood hat
been turned from open fields into streets il
days when people built houses to be livct
in-not merely to let. The most satisfac
tory room in the house, at all events in thu
morning, was the dning-room at the back
locking intG ? small gravel ward that wa.
called Il galden, noC So much because i
was furnished for absolute comfort, rs be.
cause it showed most signs of being real,
used-because convenient, and not an exi
gent eye for symmetrical arrangement, hat
.iistGteI the nosition of the chairs. and be
cause the articles that lay upon the tablt
were there for use, and not for show-be
cause the work box was open, and lying il
n ncst OF nq..4ssariDt needle work that hat
but just been laid down. II is true that o.
damp and raw December day there Nigh
with advantage have been a better fire il
the stove: but then Goals are not things It
Pc waeted, ana ths day, though in lieGem
her, wa3 not exactly cold. On the whole
the room-in spite of lis shabby greer
leather chairs, dingy S"rratG md its fade,
window curtains-might pass, supposini
its occupants to have sufficient ANNA