"Mr. Seddon," said the Professor, "has probably glided into a condition of trance, and now has before him a beautiful vision of a bowl of strawberries and cream. It would not be in accordance with the principles of genuine philanthropy to awaken him to the unsavory realities of ordinary existence. Shall we leave him to wander in the land of Nod, and take a walk through the town?"

"Agreed," said Toney. And, putting on their hats, they left Tom Seddon snoring on Toney's bed, and proceeded on a promenade.

CHAPTER XXIII.

"That man on the other side of the street looks like one of the belligerent doctors," said the Professor, as he and Toney stood on the pavement in front of the hotel.

"It is Doctor Bull, minus his spectacles, and with the addition of a very black eye," said Toney.

"His vision seems not to be very clear! There! he has stumbled over a dog, and is indignantly bestowing on the unlucky cur a couple of kicks,"

said the Professor.

"Bull is very near-sighted," said Toney. "He will get along badly without the aid of his spectacles."

"I wonder how he got out of jail?" said the Professor.

"Colonel Hazlewood bailed him out," said the landlord. "The colonel needs his services in attendance on his niece, Miss Carrington, who is still in a critical condition."

"Did the colonel also bail out the other physician?" asked the Professor.

"No, indeed!" said the landlord. "The colonel said he was afraid to let the other fellow out while the young lady was ill. The two doctors might get to fighting again, and their patient might die while they were settling their difficulties."

"I perceive that the colonel is an apt scholar in the school of experience," said the Professor. "It is not advisable to allow more than one doctor to run at large at a time in a small town like this."

"I am glad that Bull is out," said the landlord.

"Why so?" asked Toney.

"He has a patient in my house. The gentleman is quite sick. He is in the room next to the one occupied by you, Mr. Belton. I hope you have not been disturbed."

"Not at all," said Toney. "He has been very quiet. I was not aware that there was a sick person in the apartment. Come, Charley, let us walk to the post-office."

A letter was handed to Toney at the post-office, which he read, and then exclaimed,--

"Well, Charley, my holiday is over. I must go back to Mapleton by the next train."

"Indeed!" said the Professor. "What urgent business renders your presence necessary in Mapleton?"

"The great case of Simon Rump _vs._ the Salt-Water Ca.n.a.l Company is to be argued next week. I am counsel for the company, and my distinguished friend M. T. Pate is Rump's attorney. It is a claim for damages. The company are about to construct a portion of their ca.n.a.l through Rump's real estate, and a jury are to a.s.semble on the ground and a.s.sess the damages which should be paid to Simon Rump."

"Who is Simon Rump?"

"You have heard Tom Seddon and myself speak of Simon Dobbs?"

"The unfortunate individual who was baffled by the Mystic Order of Sweethearts in his efforts to obtain an angel and seven sweet little cherubs?"

"The same," said Toney. "Well, Simon Dobbs is now Simon Rump."

"Simon Dobbs is now Simon Rump? I don't comprehend."

"It is so. Simon Dobbs is now Simon Rump, and in his domicile dwell an angel and seven sweet little cherubs."

"I am glad that the poor fellow has at last obtained the companionship of angelic beings after so much tribulation. But how did it happen that his name was changed? Had the angel changed her name, when she came to dwell with Dobbs, it would have been more in accordance with established usage."

"The angel would not consent to change her name. I might as well tell the story at once, for I see that your curiosity is aroused."

"Indeed it is," said the Professor. "I am as curious as a maiden lady who has accompanied this terrestrial orb in fifty annual revolutions around the center of the solar system. How did Dobbs become Rump?"

"After the poor fellow met with so serious a mishap, when he wanted to purchase a wife and a couple of children, he lived in melancholy seclusion during several years. He has a fine farm in the neighborhood of Mapleton. On the east side of his farm, and nearer to the town, is the estate of the Widow Wild, and on the west was the land of Farmer Rump who was also named Simon. Rump had fine possessions, and a buxom wife, and seven children, and was prosperous and contented. But he was taken sick, and a doctor being sent for, in about a week Simon Dobbs followed the hea.r.s.e of his friend and neighbor Simon Rump to the cemetery. The widow wept and the seven children were in deep affliction.

Dobbs had a soft heart, and went frequently to the house to console the widow and orphans. The widow was buxom and blooming and the children were chubby. An idea entered the head of Dobbs. Here were an angel and seven sweet little cherubs. Could he not persuade them to come and dwell in his domicile? In the solitude of his home he again had visions of future felicity. In due time he presented the question of annexation for the consideration of the widow. It was decided in the negative. She said that she had been the wife of Simon Rump, and when she planted a rose on the grave of that good man she had solemnly vowed that she would never be the wife of anybody but Simon Rump. Dobbs went home and had a fit of the blues. He thought of his first love and of his subsequent misfortunes. He thought of Susan and the Seven Sweethearts. He thought of the dreadful beating he had received when he wanted to buy a wife and a couple of children. He thought of the refusal of the Widow Rump, and he was in despair. His home would never be the abode of an angel and seven sweet little cherubs."

"Poor fellow!" said the Professor. "His was, indeed, a sad fate! Excuse me, Toney, if I apply my handkerchief. A tear will ooze from the corner of my eye."

"There is no need for your handkerchief. Dobbs's prospects now began to brighten. Fortune smiled on him at last."

"The cruel jade!" said the Professor. "She sometimes becomes ashamed of her barbarity and makes amends. I trust it was so in the case of poor Dobbs."

"It was," said Toney. "A few days after the rejection of his suit by the widow, a splendid opportunity, which presented itself, for an amazing display of his gallantry, enabled him to win her heart. On a bright morning in July there was an unusually large congregation a.s.sembled in groups in front of the village church, which stands in a grove of fine old trees, affording a delightful shade. While the people were thus awaiting the arrival of their pastor, the widow rode up, accompanied by her eldest son, a boy of twelve years of age. The lad dismounted and led the widow's steed to a big chestnut stump, then used as a horseblock.

She attempted to dismount, but just at that moment the horse suddenly started to one side, and she was caught on the pommel, and there hung suspended, like Mohammed's coffin, between heaven and earth. The gawky boy exclaimed, 'Great golly!' and stood holding the horse. The ladies shrieked and put down their veils, and the gentlemen, instead of going to the rescue, turned away as if seized with a sudden panic. In this emergency the remarkable presence of mind of Simon Dobbs was wonderfully demonstrated. Hearing the cries of the distressed lady, he coolly put his hand in his pocket and drew forth a large knife, which he was accustomed to use in his orchard for pruning purposes; then turning his back and opening the blade, he advanced backward until his shoulders almost touched her as she hung in a state of awful suspense; when with a skillful movement of the knife he cut off the end of the dress which clung to the pommel, and the lady fell unharmed to the ground. A shout of applause rewarded this n.o.ble achievement; and from that day the heart of the buxom widow was the property of Simon Dobbs."

"So it should have been," said the Professor. "In books of chivalry and romance a valorous knight, who rescues a fair one in distress, is always rewarded by the possession of that important organ."

"The pastor did not come," said Toney. "The reverend gentleman was sick; but the congregation found an efficient subst.i.tute in M. T. Pate, who mounted the pulpit and read the usual prayers, and then selected the ninth chapter of Genesis. When in his loud and solemn tones Pate read the twenty-third verse, every eye in the congregation was directed first towards the widow and then towards Simon Dobbs. The widow went home and read the chapter over and was deeply impressed. She was convinced that Simon Dobbs was a good man, and could be compared to the favorite sons of the patriarch. She knew that he would make a devoted husband. When Dobbs called on the following day to inquire after her health, she blushed until her face was as ruddy as the morning, and Dobbs saw in her blushes the beams of an Aurora which was the harbinger of his happiness."

"Too poetical, Toney," said the Professor. "But proceed. What did Dobbs do?"

"He drew his chair close up to the widow; and this time as he approached her he did not turn his back."

"Well, what did he do?"

"He took hold of her hand."

"Well."

"He squeezed it."

"Good!"

"He advanced his mouth in close proximity to her lips."

"Excellent!"

"He kissed her."