Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1874-04-08
A TWELFTH..NIG CHAR.
ACTER.

''Sixth of January-Twelfth-n night, il
it?" said Mr.. Robert Kennedy to hi
friend Mr.. Charles Crackshot, as they
were taking their ease in as snug littl,
country hostel as one would wish Il
find, after stiffish days campaign will
the snipe, in the pleasant County O
Hants. "Whiskey punch, ashen fagots
motley characters, fine old English Gus
toms, and all that sort of thing. Sup
pose we have some-I mean the punch.
The proposition was one which Mr.
Crackshot did not care to controvert
1t was, he said, thoroughly orthodox
and seasonable beverage; and the sooner
they had it the better, as he (Mr. Crack
shot was fatigued, and did not feel al
all like sitting up into the small hours
The landlord of the Kennedy Arms
(Mr. Kennedy's family had long beer
considerable proprietors in that part OF
Hampshire) formerly in the private ser.
vice of the late lamented Mr. Gridling,
Mr.. kennedy's uncle, was no mean
hand at q hot brew. Having manufac.
tured the punch to the best of his ability,
he brought in the china bowl, depo.
sited it on the table, and was about re-
spectfully to retire, when Mr.. Kennedy
suggested that he should taste a glass
of the compound that he had himself
so cunningly devised.
"My respects to you, SIR" said the
landlord of Kennedy Arms; and he
made an obeisancethe to both the gen.
tlemen before him.
"And good luck to you, Spriggs, and
Mrs. Spriggs, too; and many happy
years may you have in your house and
never again such a Twelfth-night as
that which you had-how long? Six
years, isn't it, ago."
''Six years exactly, sir. 1t was not
pleasant at the time, sir; but 1 owe
what i have now to it-that is, to your
kindness" Mr.. Robert"
"a good fellow that" said Mr.. Ken
nedy meditatively, as the discreet
Spriggs left the room; "a good fellow,
and devilish useful one, can tell you
And this is decent punch and, on the
whole, am as comfortable as wish to
be-"
"How about that mysterious Twelfth
night six years ago-A.D. 1867 it must
have been, Bob? What was it ?" asked
Mr.. Crackshot, who had pulled himself
together, and acquired sufficient energy
to charge his pipe once more-and his
glass.
"My dear Charlie" was the reply,
'.you will pardon me if tell you that
you are the most inquisitive man 1 ever
met. / don't say this in disparagement
of your many excellent qualities
simply mention it as fact. 1 will back
you to ask more questions in the course
of ten minutes than ever asked in my
life. However, don't mind answering
you on this occasion, and will tell you;
only shall have to bore you for about
twenty minutes.
Mr.. Crackshot settled himself con-
fortably down, and said, "Go ahead :"
and MIR. Kennedy commenced his mar
rative
'You see, six years ago matters did
not stand exactly with me as they stand
now. 1 was myself more or less depen-
dent-well, we will say on circumstances.
My uncle George had not vet abit ad
pi,res and, not to put too fine point
upon it, the principle of habeas corpus
was not observed so strictly in certain
class of lawsuits as it is in this era of
social and legislative reform. Candidly,
1 was down on my luck and unless GER
tain relatives exerted themselves, 1
clearly foresaw a disagreeable amount
of personal notoriety, not altogether
unconnected with the Insolvency Court,
awaiting me in the immediate future.
My uncle, Mr.. Gridling, had disap-
pointed me. He said had disappointed
him. Still 1 managed to preserve
fairish front, and cOnsoled myself with
the philosophical reflection that matters
might have been much worse. / might
have been residing by compulsion in
the neighborhood of Chancery lane, or
an exile across the sea might have had
to take up my quarters at Boulogne
The prospect which / had to face was
not lively one. L was down and was
dull. 1 had eaten my Christmas dinner
at the club. Ever dined at the club on
Christmas Day? No; take my advice,
then, and don't. You go there, we will
say, about half-past four, and find the
hall-porter, who has gorged and drunk
two hours previously to something
more than repletion, asleep in his box.
He wakes, more or less, at your inquiry
for letters, and resents your appearance
as an intrusion. As you cross the hall,
en- route for the morning-room, you see
two or three small page boys, with very
flushed faces, and couple of walters,
talking and laughing in manner which
argues neither sobriety nor intelligence.
OF course, beyond the domestics there
is not q soul in the club. 1t is Just
possible that as you sit down to your
dinner, Mr.. MacGrowler, who has quar-
relied with his wife, and who is not
tolerated by his family, takes the table
at the farthest end of the room. Tepid
soup, iced fish, lukewarm entree
fuddled servants shrieks of wild laugh
ter from the subterranean regions of the
still-room and kitchens; fires allowed
to go out; sulkiness discomfort gen.
eralIy-that is what dinner at the club
on Christmas Day means.
"However, I survived the ordeal. 1t
was two or three days after the new
wear had come in that [ had letter
from my respected uncle Gridling, dated
from what he was pleased to call his
country house in the Surrey hills, some
miles from Cheapside. Its
contents formed an agreeable oasis amid
the desert of, to speak euphemistically,
business communications, which lay
two or three feet deep on my table,
Why had 1 not come to him? Would
not come? Did forget that l was his
nearest relative? Surely this was not
the season at which uncle and nephew
should keep apart from each other. L
had been foolish, but then 1 had been
young. The errors of youth were par
donable, if they were not confirmed.
And he had heard with much satisfac-
ton of the manly efforts 1 had made to
put myself right. That was all he
wanted. Nothing could be better than
the accounts which had reached him
from Mr.. (his solicitor) of my ef-
forts at retrenchment and reform. For
each Christmas as it passed
l., .o,.,llx, 20 faa1 fbo fact that