Complete Works of Ambrose Bierce (Delphi Classics)

by Ambrose Bierce

  Mrs. Suds will give a literary entertainment at her residence on Angel avenue next Thursday evening, when her beautiful and gifted niece, Miss Simpergiggle, will read Poe’s Raven. She is an élocutioniste of remarkable powers, having twice received the highest honors in Professor’s Drumlung’s class and once driven an audience mad. Her rendering of The Charge of the Light Brigade is said to be unlike anything ever heard, and on one occasion it so fired the heart of a young man who was engaged to her that he instantly broke off the match, resolved to dedicate himself to the sword in the next war.

  One of the most enjoyable parties of the season was given on Thursday evening last by the hoodlumni of the little university around the corner. The guests comprised nearly all the gentlemen who have graduated during the past two years.

  Miss Adiposa Brown wishes us to say that among those present at the Sucklebuster wedding we observed Miss Addie P. Brown, who looked enchanting in white silk and diamonds. We strive to please.

  Last Thursday’s post-mortem reception at the costly mansion of the Jonesmiths was a tasteful affair. The body of the hostess, in one of Grimdole & Grewsums popular caskets, wore a magnificent moire-antique Mother Hubbard and a look of serene peace adorned with pearls. The coiffure was a triumph of the hair-dresser’s art. Too great praise cannot be given to the skill and artistic taste of Miss Nobbie Chic, under whose supervision the gorgeous apartments had been decorated with all manner of griefery: a skull-and-cross-bones in black spatter-work on a scarlet ground being particularly pleasing. The vegetable tributes, including a skeleton in orange blossoms, were mostly from the floral emporium of Jickster & Gonkle. When the lid of the casket was screwed down there was noiser weeping than has ever been heard on any similar occasion in this city: the guests literally weltered in woe.

  Physicians declare that the apparently innocent habit of kissing lap dogs is a fruitful source of contagion. They point to the recent mortality among the dogs as confirmatory evidence.

  Last Wednesday evening’s reception at the Slumsprung residence was marred by the unexpected return of the old man. As it was understood that he was in Milpitas, and would not be invited anyhow, many of the guests had not taken the precaution to be armed, and for some time the festivities were one-sided. Luckily the tide, was turned by the opportune arrival of Col. Spotshot. Silas Edward Slum-sprung was born at Dawkinsville, Missouri, October 3, 1845. Educated as a blacksmith and fired with the spirit of adventure, he came to this state in 1870, since which time his fame is familiar to even the most lowly: no name has more prominently adorned the advertising columns of this journal than that of the distinguished remains. We mourn our loss.

  A successful party at Tarrytown — John D. Rockefeller.

  Among the most honored guests at the Hull-Caboodle reception last Thursday evening was Mr. Moriarty Monaghan, the distinguished inventor of the steam chaperon.

  At Mrs. Fastiddio’s musicale last Thursday evening the harmony of the occasion was somewhat marred by the sound of a desperate squabble in the entrance hall as Professor Schwackenheimer was singing his famous solo, Dere’s moosic eferyvheres. The fair hostess signified a wish that the festivities should not be suspended, but even beauty is unable to muzzle the press, and our reporter left the room to see what it was all about. The hall porter, whose hair and clothing were greatly deranged, explained with some excitement, between his gasps of fatigue, that he’d been “a firin’ out another one o’ them dam antecedents.”

  The Jacksprats are in Jebigue. They live there.

  The engagement is announced of Hunker Gowk to the widow Jonesmith, who will be remembered in connection with the road-house scandal of ten years ago. The engagement having revived public interest in that unfortunate episode in the life of the lady, it is related in full in another column.

  Our reporter was contumeliously treated at last Wednesday evening’s hoe-down at the Robinson mansion. This is the more surprising because the hostess is one of our oldest and most esteemed landmarks and is sincerely devoted to study of books on etiquette to make up for her early disadvantages. We forgive it as a mere reversio ad naturam.

  Miss Enameline Cartilagina Cmythe is visiting the mummy of Rameses II, in Cairo. They were schoolmates.

  They are telling (under the breath) of a clever thing which Mrs. Rooley said the other day. “My dear,” said an old schoolgirl friend whom she had not met since her marriage, “how could you venture to marry Mr. Rooley with that awful scandal hanging over you?”

  “The most natural thing in the world,” was the placid reply. “People were beginning to talk, and I married Mr. Rooley at once to keep him from hearing about it.”

  The Princess Bulli-Bulli is at the Golden Hotel. She will be remembered as the lady who kept the peanut parlors at 9276 Cobble street in the old days. Since she has got royal blood in her veins her Highness is, of course, somewhat haughty and cold in her manner, and has on two or three occasions inflicted severe injuries on the hotel servants; but she is at heart a true American lady and has six dogs.

  Mrs. Excrusia Blogg gave a party last Tuesday in celebration of her thirtieth birthday.

  Among the names of those not invited was that of the fair hostess’ daughter, Mrs. Rougeline Blogg-Dumperton, who with her five lovely children lives just over the way. The particulars of the estrangement are not known.

  In diamonds it is the fashion to have the breakfast sets entirely different from those worn at dinner. Nothing so conspicuously distinguishes the true lady as the jewelry she wears at breakfast. Mrs. Bluegore, the wife of the Hon. Asa Bluegore, M. C., is a model in this way; her diamonds always look as if she had slept in them, they are worn with so negligent a grace.

  At five-and-half o’clock teas it is en regie for the hostess to stir each cup of the beverage with her forefinger before administering it to the patient. This assures so low a temperature that the tea is retained in the system.

  Miss Exquisitia Multiboodle and father are registered at the Majestic hotel.

  The Tooquites, the Culcherfads and the Refinings are at the Divine.

  Old Mumchortle and his mahala are at the Squaremeal.

  There will be another musicale next Tuesday evening at the residence of Mrs. Jonas Goard. Professor Henrj Beerbellj will be present with his violin, and will play some choice selections from Schopenhauer, Mazzini, Gambetta and Murillo. Mrs. Goard says it is her intention to make her weekly musicales the most peerless that money will collar.

  The Hiflungs are at the Splurge House. Their health has not been good since their return from Europe, Colonel Hiflung, Miss Hiflung, Miss Phlebotomy Hiflung and Masters Thanatopsis and Epithalamium Hiflung all suffering more or less acutely from brain failure.

  Gargoyle Squutney has arrived from Paris, where he had the distinction of ascending the Eiffel Tower. The Emperor paid him a great deal of attention and he met the Tuilleries.

  Society is justly indignant at the threatened publication of an Élite Directory with an “Appendix of Antecedents.” Strenuous efforts at suppression have resulted in nothing, so far, but hopes are entertained of conciliating the author and publisher with an invitation to the Pursang luncheon next week. In the mean time that hardy and desperate man speaks of the ladies and gentlemen whom he weakly maligns in the columns of an infamous daily newspaper as “Our Sore Hundred.”

  The fashion of leaving the dog’s card with that of the mistress is obtaining favor again.

  The new spring-style coffins have oxidized silver trimmings.

  Our distinguished townsman, the Hon. Mr. Col. Samuel Jiggs, Esquire, is understood to deprecate Society’s attitude toward him. He has confided to a prominent society man the fact that he is tired of attending his wife’s entertainments and hearing himself addressed by her guests as “Sam” and “Jiggsy.” He purposes, he says, to make certain radical improvements in the next galoots as allows they kin prosper withouten good manners.

  At the funeral of Miss Nobbie Skihi, last Thursday, the corpse was attired in a Directoi
re costume from Worth’s, and wore a diamond and sapphire necklace valued, according to the tag, at $15,000. In removing this at the close of the entertainment, the mother of the deceased was overcome with emotion, which found audible expression. The lady’s voice is a clear soprano of remarkable power.

  The Lalligaggs have taken rooms at the Hotel Paradise for the winter and the Mollicoddles for the storm. The Von Doodles are reported as storming at Hohokus.

  At the Rodaigent-Cadje wedding reception a new and admirable feature was introduced. On one end of a table were displayed the wedding presents, with the donor’s names attached. On the other end was a large number of wooden naughts, gilt and variously decorated. These bore the names of friends and acquaintances who gave nothing. It is said that some of the persons blacklisted have applied to the police for protection.

  Mrs. Wollysnopple is in town again, where, being at present afflicted with smallpox, she has a wide circle of acquaintances.

  The beautiful and accomplished Miss Vaseline Upshoot damaged one of her toes last week in alighting from a street car. It was the sweetest little accident in the world, and the fair sufferer underwent a charming amputation.

  The Impycu family, who are at Gophertown, Hog Valley, wish us to state that they are traveling in Europe. So are we.

  Mrs. Breezy O’Blairney has offered the Academy of Sciences a magnificent oil portrait of her late husband, the Hon. Moriarty Fitz Flaherty O’Blairney. It is reported that the Academy is willing to compromise.

  A pleasing incident in high life occurred the other evening at a conversazione given by Mrs. Fastidiana Rushereeeee, nee Scroggins. The fair hands of the distinguished and wealthy hostess had worked in violets on a yellow ground the following chaste and elegant lines, which adorned one of the walls:

  Here mind meets mind on the occasion

  Of an intellectual conversazione.

  A gentleman of some literary pretensions from Boston enticed the hostess aside, and in the most cowardly manner intimated that she had erred in pronunciation, or else had a bad ear for rhyme. The insulted lady apprised the other gentlemen present of what had been said to her in her own house, and the fellow was energetically booted abroad, returning not any more to that place. And that is the pleasing incident above referred to.

  Mrs. Follyswaddle’s reception in honor of Lord’Arry Chortle of Wapping was enjoyable until his lordship was taken drunk; then the festivities were parted in the middle.

  The Tollipoodles are Octobering in Sprouleville — all except the old man, who is Tollipoodling here, in the regular way. In him there is neither change nor shadow of turning — such as creation’s dawn beheld he Tollipoodleth now.

  The wake of Malone Finucain last Thursday night was marred by but a single untoward incident — the corpse got up and kicked everybody out of the house. The widow desires us to say that the second wake of the series will take place at a date not now determined, and each guest will be supplied at the door with an attested copy of a physician’s certificate of death.

  One of the most interesting souvenirs of royalty that this country can boast is in the possession of Miss Celeritie Hifli of this city. It was given to Miss Hifli by his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, who greatly admired her beauty. The souvenir is a Bank of England ten-pound note, which Miss Hifli has had framed and exhibits with pardonable pride. After the first few shocks, it is quite charming to observe her ingenuous way of speaking of his Royal Highness as “Al.”

  Society is discussing a shocking scandal. It is difficult to get the particulars from an authentic source, but they are believed to be about as follows: Three weeks ago, on the death of Miss R — , the body was placed in the handsome tomb of Colonel H — , an old friend of the family, the fine mausoleum of the R — s being incomplete. The only occupant of the tomb when the body of Miss R — was placed there was the remains of Colonel H—’s brother, but for the sake of propriety Mrs. X — , a friend of both families, had the mortal part of her mother conveyed there from another place. But on Tuesday last Mrs. X — , without notifying the R — s, had her mother’s body removed and sent East. From that day until yesterday the remains of Miss R — were without a chaperon. Great indignation is felt against Mrs.

  X — , and it is thought that her action will seriously affect her social standing.

  RURAL

  The festivities last Wednesday evening at the Turveypool mansion scooped the ranch. It was the slickest outfit of the season, and will shine in the annals of society worse than a new tin pan. The genial hostess was as affable as a candidate for coroner, and pitchforked her smiles about without caring a cuss where they struck and stuck. She’s the whitest woman in this social camp, and don’t you forget it.

  Mrs. Flyorbust gave a reception on Friday evening, which in point of pure elegance knocked everything perfectly cold and was a regular round-up of beauty, rank and fashion. The fair hostess’ long residence in the social centers of Europe, where she experted some of the niftiest occasions, has taught her how to do such things white. Among those present we observed Mr. Flyorbust, Miss Flyorbust, Miss Georgiana Glorinda Flyorbust, and Master Tom Busted.

  The engagement is announced of Mr. Megacephaloid Polliglot Paupertas, the distinguished and popular scion of the Munniglut stock, to a lady of acceptable fortune but humble birth, who is not at present in society and is therefore nameless in these columns. The wedding is expected to take place as soon as this person can dispose of some property in Hangtown. If the sale is auspiciously consummated the nuptials will eventuate with unscrupulous grandiosity.

  Society is unaffected by Lent: Mrs. Vulgaria de Binks-Browne says that she means to give a dizzy party next Wednesday evening and put on as much dog as anybody or bust a-trying. Those near to Mrs. Binks-Browne hope that she will succeed.

  We were honored yesterday by a call from the eminent statesman, the Hon. Braygong Bumble, and his distinguished dog. They remained an hour and left, going in the direction of our loathsome contemporary, The Squeege. It is to be hoped they did not tarnish their respective escutcheons by calling on the presiding felon of that gang, and they probably did not, for the voice of fame has not pointed the finger of discovery at him.

  Old man Blivens wants the public to get onto the racket that his fat girl, Piggy Jane, is effectuating. As nearly as we could tumble to it from the elderly party’s prospectus, it is to be a lavender feed. The guests are not expected to eat that herb of the field, unless they want to, but its color will pervade the occasion like an undertone of garlic in a Dago Christmas. Ladies whose rinds don’t hitch well with lavender had better stay at home and go to the circus.

  Mrs. Colonel Pompinuppy’s Wednesday evenings will henceforth eventuate on Thursday afternoons. At the next one Signora Fahertini, a Dutch cantatreechy, will squawk up some classical music that will make the hair curl.

  Pimply Johnson is pinching out at his Burro street shack. The medicine man has tooted his doom, but says he may possibly pull through the week. Keep your northwest eye open for an enjoyable funeral if it is Christian weather. The remains will be cached in the natty mausoleum erected by them during life.

  The services last Sunday evening at the Church of the Holy Jones were enlivened by the presence of the beautiful Miss Marie Jeanne Hodj, who brandished the most paralyzing follyswaddles of any hen in the kaboodle. Her leading figleaf was of nun’s-unavailing, with a demi-train which responded rhythmically to every lateral impulse of her willowy figure. The rest of her outfit we didn’t slate. Miss Hodj looked sweet enough to eat!

  At the reception, last Tuesday evening, at the Loftinudle mansion, the many guests gracing the occasion with their presence were profoundly affected by the costliness and elegance of everything in the house and its appointments. No one thing knocked them silly, but there was a general allroundishness that laid ‘em out like dead! It is universally admitted that the Loftinudle shack is uncommonly tough to tackle, and it is not thought that any of the shanties now going up in Smith’s Addition will b
e able to hold a candle to it. There are some persons, however, who expect old Loftinudle will himself hold a candle to it, as the insurance is significantly heavy.

  The Squuljees are now established in their new Malaria county villa, Skunkmead. The house, which is of the Renuisance style, is fitted with all the ancient and modern conveniences, and the whole place has been happily described by a reporter of the Malarian as strongly resembling Mr. Elysian’s fields. Mrs. Squuljee, Miss Squuljee and Miss Carameline Squuljee were in the city yesterday and were seen at a distance by our reporter. Unluckily they had seen him first.

  The Bachelor’s Club is madder than a wet cat. It was first flung to the breeze to enable the unmarried roosters to return-match the old hens who entertain them at the henneries; but the chaps do it so white that now the o h.’s don’t put up at all. We plank down our in-’ardest sympathy in the business, but that’s all we can do; owing to the death of a heavy advertiser the o h. appertaining to our loathsome contemporary isn’t branching out into social gaieties much at the present writing.

  Mr. James O’Squander and Mrs. Jane McMillion are to be married next Hangman’s day — that day being selected in memory of the bridegroom’s sainted father. It was of this engagement that the Bard of Tar Flat, Ferd Anderson Snooks, penned his brutal couplet, published by a disgusting contemporary:

  Jim will tie to Jane in the holy bonds of wedlock, But ere a year is gone he’ll be scraping round on bedrock.

  A Leap Year party was given on Monday evening at the Coyote District school-house, Potato county. The Temple of Science was beautifully decorated, the words “Leep Yeer,” tastily executed in colored chalks on the black-board, being conspicuously pleasing. They were the work of the teacher.

  The McCorkle crowd is Novembering at Iron Springs. That summer place of last resort does not advertise in this journal, but we know enough about it from other sources to whack up our deepest dollar on the proposition that the essence of latch-key which Mother Earth spits out at that place will knock the McCorkle livers galley west.