<p class="center"><SPAN name="Johnny_Cakes_first_Spree" id="Johnny_Cakes_first_Spree"></SPAN>
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<p style="margin-left: 18em;"><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</SPAN></span>
Whatever is, is.</p>
<p style="margin-left: 25em;">
<span class="smcap">Wright.</span><br/></p>
<p> <b>IN</b> the last chapter of this veritable history is related the
unexpected and unusually thorough inebriation of Mr. John I. Cake, from
<span class='floatl'><ANTIMG src="images/illus049.jpg" alt="Johnny" /> </span>the verdant prairies of Illinois. The alcoholically-saturated condition
of Johnny's corporosity, on the occasion herein-before-mentioned,
surprised the thirsty brotherhood far<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</SPAN></span> more than would a similar state
of facts in which any other one of the fraternity should have been
implicated, because as Johnny had always perched himself upon the
aqueous pinnacle of misanthropic teetotalism, it was not reasonable to
suppose that he should, by one single dive, precipitate himself at once
to the lowest depth of inebriation—for his profession's sake, he should
have come down easier.</p>
<p>As his new-made friends had taken his moral culture under their especial
guardianship, he was duly required, the next evening, to give, for the
instruction and edification of the club, a full account of his night's
experience.</p>
<p>Having first premised that he only complied with this desire in
obedience to that imperative rule of the club, to which he had solemnly,
affixed his name, which, in the most awful language, pledges every
member who takes that terrible obligation to do exactly as he pleases,
unless his own pleasure shall influence him otherwise, or unless, upon
mature consideration, he shall decide that he had rather do something
else, he proceeded to enlighten the anxious Elephantine expectants.</p>
<p>"When I left you yesterday," said he, "I had no more idea that I should
so far overstep the bounds of my customary propriety, and make my next<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</SPAN></span>
appearance before you in a state of alcoholic disguise, than I have at
this present moment that the setting sun will see me under arrest for
picking somebody's pocket of a steam saw-mill. Strolling about yesterday
for some time, I became tired of the monotonous hurry of Broadway, and
eventually strayed into that delightful rural locality which you call, I
think, the Bowery.</p>
<p>"On the corner of this avenue of the rustic cognomen and Broome street,
there is a place of refreshment for the weary. I entered its open doors,
and sat down in a little three-sided closet, determined to procure the
wherewithal to refresh the inner individual. Obedient to my upraised
finger, a person came. This person had on a small white apron; this
person also flourished in his dexter-digits a napkin of questionable
purity; this person wore slippers, and had a voice like an asthmatic
bull-frog; this person was a city waiter—a male waiter—a degeneration
of the genus homo, which I sincerely hope will, at no very distant day,
become utterly extinct. He procured for me the viands which my
capricious taste selected from the suggestive printed list of edibles
there to be obtained. While engaged in consigning to a living grave the
bivalves he had brought, I had a fair opportunity to observe some, to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</SPAN></span>
me, remarkable gymnastics then in course of accomplishment by an active
young man who presided at the bar, and held dominion over the bottles.
First pouring into a tumbler some liquid, to me unknown, diluting it
with water, adding ice, sugar, lemon, and other ingredients with which I
am unacquainted, he proceeded to throw the compound about in the most
unheard-of manner, from one tumbler to another, over his head, under his
leg, round his neck, over one arm and under the other, without ever
spilling a drop. First uplifting one hand high in air, he poured the
mixture in a sparkling cascade from the glass in the right hand, to that
in the left; then he threw it in a sparkling shower in the air, till the
lumps of ice rattled on the ceiling; then he dispersed it in a misty
spray about his head and recovered it all in his magic glass, by some
diabolic dexterity, without losing the fraction of a drop; then, in one
grand, final effort, he tossed it round the beer-pump, down one side,
and up the other, and over the chandelier, changing a two-dollar bill
while it was in the air, and giving his customer his drink with one
hand, and with the other his silver change, intermixed with twenty per
cent. of pewter dimes, which the thirsty buyer invariably pocketed
before he could recover from his astonishment.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I finished my dinner, and was anxious to see the little man perform
again. I approached the little man, and desired him to concoct me a
lemonade. He inquired if I wanted a 'fly' in it. As the flying part was
what I most desired, I answered yes. The little man went through the
motions. I sent the lemonade to its destination, noticing at the time
something remarkably nectarean in the taste. As I supposed the
evolutions which it had accomplished in mid-air had imparted to it an
unusual flavor, and as I wanted to see the performance again, I
immediately subscribed for one more of the same sort. Again the question
about the fly—again an affirmative, with a remark that the bigger the
fly, the better I should be pleased, supposing that thereby he would,
for my satisfaction, make it fly through some new motions. I am
satisfied that this time the fly <i>was</i> larger than on the former
occasion. I was still unsatisfied; another subscription, and another
lemonade, but this time the entomological interrogation was not
propounded—he took the fly for granted, and he was right. About this
time the person who came home with me last night made his appearance. I
shook hands with him at once, for I thought I recognized him. I imagined
that he was a man who, seven years ago, licked me with a rawhide for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</SPAN></span>
stealing his pippins and setting fire to his sugar-bush, and I was
anxious to shake hands for old acquaintance sake. I beg now, however, to
state that I am satisfied this impression was erroneous, for I have this
morning a distinct recollection that the individual of pomological
memory removed to Kansas, where he was first lynched for stealing a
horse, and afterward chosen county treasurer and inspector of election.
However, be that as it may, certain it is, that, at that particular
moment, thinking I had fallen in with an old friend, I invited him to
drink with me. He accepted, and presently he proposed punch, and made a
remark about cobbler. Punch I had heard mentioned as the prince of good
fellows, and I was anxious to make his acquaintance. Cobbler I had only
heard of as a man of lapstones and leather aprons, and I did not
particularly desire to know him. On receiving an introduction to Punch,
I was amazed to find that he was not an individual but a drink—a
luscious combination of fragrant ingredients. Although I was mistaken in
the identity, I was pleased with him, and it may not be superfluous to
remark that the more I saw of him, the more I wanted to see, and the
more I did see. About this time I had <i>two</i> friends; there were <i>two</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</SPAN></span>
active little men behind the bar, each throwing from double-barrelled
tumblers two streams of lemonade over his head, each with two flies in.
There were two beer-pumps, each with two dozen handles, and the number
of bottles and decanters was beyond computation. The floor rose up and
down in wooden billows, and knocked my hat off. I attempted to
remonstrate with floor, but at this juncture the floor clinched me; we
had a long wrestle, and finally went down—floor on top. By a convulsive
exertion I 'turned' the floor, got it under, and stood on it to keep it
down; had some compunctions about striking a fallen enemy, but passion
got the better of me, and I tried to kick the floor; floor kicked back,
and threw sand-dust in my eyes; got away; wanted to get out doors, but
the room had changed about so, that the door was over my head, and the
bar, with the active little men, was nearly under my feet; was afraid I
should walk over the little men, and break the bottles; stepped very
carefully so as to avoid any such accident, and put my foot in the
stove. Peter rescued me from the devouring element, and got me out of
doors.</p>
<p>"Peter said he would see me home, and asked me where I lived; told him I
was an elephant; made<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</SPAN></span> him understand that I could <i>show</i> him the place
where I hung out, even if I couldn't tell him—so we started.</p>
<p>"We must have come through Chatham street, for I can remember seeing
some one with a hammer, selling clothing. I know I wanted to go in and
make some purchases. The ruling idea in my mind, at that moment, was,
that the grey mare wanted a winter overcoat, the oxen a pair of striped
pantaloons apiece, that the sow, and each of her tender offspring, ought
to have a red jacket and a pair of spectacles, and that it was a matter
of necessity and charity to purchase seven dozen hickory shirts to keep
the blue jays away from the apple-trees. I went in, and commenced
bidding. I know I was not particular about prices, and that any
opposition provoked me exceedingly—so much so that I bid twenty-three
dollars for a second-hand pocket-handkerchief, because, when the
auctioneer started it at ten cents, and I offered fifteen, a hook-nosed
Jew bid three cents over me. Auction over at last; man with the hammer
wanted me to pay up—found that I had bought three quarters of his
stock, and hadn't money enough to settle the bill. I know I gave him all
I had, and also my coat and neckerchief to make up the balance. I also
have a distinct recollection of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</SPAN></span> calling him a Hebrew robber, upon which
he knocked me in the eye with his hammer, and followed up this
declaration of hostilities by splitting my nose with a yard-stick. We
got out of doors, and proceeded down town. On the corner of Chambers
street the Third Avenue Railroad squared off, and knocked me down. Peter
held me steady, while I rebuked the offender in proper terms. The Third
Avenue Railroad took off its hat and apologized. I forgave it.</p>
<p>"We went into a cellar; got in by a complicated dive. I sat down at
first on the piano, next on a pile of oyster-shells, and, finally, by
the aid of a huge pair of whiskers, with a little Dutchman behind them,
deposited myself in a chair—on top of Peter. Peter got out after a
prolonged struggle; place very hirsute; big beards on everybody; ten
parts of hair to one part Dutchman. My vision may have been slightly
deranged, but I am certain that one diminutive German had two pairs of
whiskers—a moustache just over his eyes, and a four-foot yellow beard
which sprung from his teeth. We drank lager bier.</p>
<p>"Peter quoted Shakspeare when the man said "pay up," and insisted on
singing an English chorus to a Dutch song; company indignant, Peter
very<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</SPAN></span> valiant, but too few in number. Peter fought, Peter kicked, Peter
swore, Peter was overpowered, Peter was elevated in the arms of four
stout Dutchmen above the heads of the company. Exit Peter, through the
window. In leaving the room myself, I, too, received some uncalled-for
aid, but finally rejoined Peter on the sidewalk above.</p>
<p>"I spied the mystic light which told me the Elephantine resort was close
at hand—couldn't fetch it—asked M.P.—he said if we'd tell him the
address he'd show us—tried to recollect it—couldn't exactly make it
out, but said at a venture, corner of Maiden Lane and Canal
street—officer indignant—we finally found the place, tried to come up
still so as to surprise you, but I am willing to admit that attempt to
be a partial failure; we reached the door at last; it wouldn't
open—Peter called it Sebastopol, and proposed that we should storm
it—we resolved ourselves into an attacking party of two, called to our
aid a twelve-feet plank as a battering-ram, and by hard blows persuaded
the door to yield—that broken panel is a forcible example of the power
of moral suasion.</p>
<p>"When I remark that, judging from my present sensations, I should
imagine a six-horse-power threshing-machine to be in the height of
successful<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</SPAN></span> operation in my head, immediately over my eyes, there are
perhaps some sympathizing persons in the room, who have experienced the
same delicious sensation, and can therefore 'phancy my pheelinks.'"</p>
<p>The members of the club expressed themselves eminently satisfied with
Mr. Cake's statement of his experience, and the Higholdboy requested
that Mr. Cake should inscribe in the records the said experience, in
order that it might not be lost to future generations. Mr. Cake promised
to do so.</p>
<p>Mr. Spout, being seized with a fit of liberality, ordered punches for
the company, and two of the same kind for Johnny Cake, which Johnny
indignantly refused, saying that, if before his recent experience in
wholesale dissipation, he had disliked alcoholic beverages, such were
his feelings now, that the dislike amounted to an abhorrence. Mr. Spout
said it was all right, as in such case he should drink them all himself.</p>
<p>Mr. Dropper remarked that some two or three years previously, when he
first arrived from Cincinnati, and before he had became fully posted up
in the various phases of unwhipped rascality in New York, he had, on one
occasion, owing to his ignorance, got into the station-house.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>A general sentiment as expressed was, that Mr. Dropper should state the
history of the circumstance, or be immediately expelled from the club,
and kicked down stairs, minus his coat, hat, and boots.</p>
<p>Mr. Dropper said that he found it impossible to resist the gentle
persuasions of his companions.</p>
<p>"Fellow quadrupeds," said he, "soon after my arrival in this mass
meeting of bricks and mortar, I read in a morning paper the announcement
of an extraordinary gift enterprise, which some benevolent and
philanthropic individual had set on foot, with the view of making
everybody, in general, and himself, in particular, rich. I thought of
the subject for several days. The idea of securing a farm of three
hundred acres in New Jersey, all in first-rate condition, with houses,
barns, and fences ready-made, at the moderate cost of a dollar, was
rather agreeable than otherwise, and the more I reflected upon the
matter, the more I became satisfied that such a bargain was a
consummation most devoutly to be wished for. One night I went to bed
thinking of the farm. Finally I fell asleep, and</p>
<p style="margin-left: 18em;">
'Sleeping I dreamed, love,<br/>
Dreamed love of'——<br/></p>
<p>seeing six cats, each with two tails, and each tail<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</SPAN></span>
eight feet long, and afterwards a seventh cat with a bob-tail. When I
<span class='floatl'><ANTIMG src="images/illus050.jpg" alt="cats" /> </span>awoke in the morning, I attempted to interpret my dream, and I readily
found a meaning. I put the figures together in the order above—that is
to say, six cats, two tails, eight feet long, one cat bob-tail, which
latter, I thought, was equivalent to a nought, and I had the following
result: 62810. I concluded that this was the lucky number which was to
get the farm. I posted off immediately to the office of the gift
enterprise, and called for number 62810, and laid down my dollar. The
dollar was accepted, and the ticket was handed me, done up in an
envelope. I was confident of having the title deeds to the premises
given me as soon as the drawing should take place, and as that event was
set down for the next week, and there was no time to be lost, I
contracted for thirty-two head of cattle, and all the necessary farming
utensils, in order to be ready to commence a life of ease and luxury, at
the earliest practicable moment,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</SPAN></span> after the said real estate should come
into my possession. I also advertised for two stout farm-hands, to
assist me in following the prospective agricultural pursuits. I had some
three hundred and sixty-eight answers. I finally engaged two athletic
Irishmen, who were recommended by their late employer as being excellent
farm-hands, and who, in addition, possessed this virtue, that, when
drunk, they were satisfied to abuse one another, and never their
employer.</p>
<p>"The day of the drawing at last came, and I went to the office to get my
deed, for I never doubted a single instant that I had drawn the big
prize. I entered the office, and told the clerk that I would take the
documents.</p>
<p>"'What documents?' said he.</p>
<p>"'Why, my deed of the magnificent country mansion and farm in New
Jersey, with three hundred acres of land, and a house with all the
modern improvements.'</p>
<p>"Gentlemen, I have been, in the course of my life, kicked by a horse,
knocked into a cocked hat by a threshing-machine, and had my hair singed
off by chain-lightning, but neither one of these occurrences so
astounded me as did that red-haired clerk, when he informed me that my
ticket had drawn a gold<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</SPAN></span> pen, with a silver holder, and a place in the
top to put pencil-leads in.</p>
<p>"Gentlemen, I was not furious, I was perfectly cool; but when I jumped
over that counter, and laid hands on that red-haired clerk, I will admit
that it was my calmly-settled intention to eat that red-haired clerk for
luncheon, notwithstanding his cock-eye. A hasty glance at the mud on his
boots, and the metal buttons on his coat-tails, caused me to alter my
original amiable intention, and I made up my mind to be gentle with him,
and merely whip him so his mother wouldn't be able to tell him from a
Little Neck clam on a large scale, and then leave him to live through it
if he could.</p>
<p>"I struck him once, and he laid down in a corner among some bottles,
with his head in the gas-meter, and in one minute from that time he was
one universal damage.</p>
<p>"The proprietor being done for, I proceeded to demolish the
establishment; I didn't leave, of the chairs, tables, and desks, a piece
big enough to make a bird-cage, and having turned on all the gas, I was
seriously debating whether I should not set the whole shop on fire, and
sue for the insurance, when the two Irishmen, whom I had engaged to work
my farm, made their appearance. I told them to clear<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</SPAN></span> out, to budge,
move on, leave, but they evidently took me for a swindler, and were
bound to pay me off. They pitched into me; our amiable struggle to put
each other's eyes out attracted a crowd; the muss became general;
everybody went in, and before the policemen came there was considerable
music. Nobody was bashful, and the result was four interesting cases of
black eye, a pathetic instance of demolished nose, two lovely examples
of swelled head, an agreeable specimen of peeled shin, seven
illustrations of the beautifying power of finger-nails, when forcibly
applied to the physiognomy, and three convincing exemplifications of the
power of the Irish fist in extracting opposing teeth, without the aid of
forceps or turnkey. The police came at last, and arrested the entire
multitude. That night we slept in the station-house. I don't want to say
anything against the bunks in that station-house, but this I <i>do</i> say,
that if there ever is a bed-bug convention, and that station-house is
not well represented, it won't be because any lack of population
deprives them of the right to a strong delegation; and if, at any
national mass meeting of fleas, they stand in need of ten or fifteen
thousand to make up a quorum, the station-house of that ward can supply
them, without any perceptible decrease of its entomological census.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"In the morning we were conducted before the Justice, but as there were
about forty cases to be heard before mine, I had ample leisure to look
about, and take a realizing sense of the beauties of my situation. The
case of myself and others was at length reached. The officers swore to
the muss, as if the numerous broken heads were not sufficient evidence
that there had been a difference of opinion. One of the Irishmen became
a volunteer liar in his own behalf, but the Justice recognized him as an
old customer, often brought up for drunkenness, and knowing him to be a
reliable liar, he placed his evidence all to my credit, and discharged
me without even a fine, but with the assurance that if I came there
again he would 'send me up.' Not wanting to make any such equivocal
ascension as a matter of experiment, I have kept away from him, and cut
up all my subsequent monkey-shines in another ward, which is out of his
jurisdiction."</p>
<p>After Mr. Dropper closed, there was a brief silence, in which each
member quietly smoked his pipe, apparently reflecting upon the morals of
lotteries. At last Wagstaff inquired who won the farm.</p>
<p>"I forgot that," resumed Dropper. "I learned from an advertisement which
appeared in the daily<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</SPAN></span> journals, that ticket number 6281 drew the farm.
This number, you will observe, corresponds with the one I supposed would
be the lucky one, except that in mine a nought was annexed to the four
figures, making it 62810, instead of 6281. My mistake grew out of a
misinterpretation of my dream, in respect to the bob-tailed cat, I
having assumed that the diminutive nether extremity, in this instance,
was equivalent to a nought expressed, whereas, if I had let it remain a
nought understood, and had acted accordingly, I should have been the
lucky man."</p>
<p>"Not so lucky as you imagine," remarked Quackenbush, "for the facts of
that matter I am somewhat familiar with. A country fiddler, living up in
Connecticut, held the ticket which entitled the holder to the real
estate aforesaid. He saw the advertisement, and I being the only
acquaintance he had in the city, he wrote to me to secure the deeds, as
he couldn't raise the money to come down. I called at the office of the
managers of the enterprise, and presented the ticket. They said it was
all right; congratulated me on the luck of my friend, and told me to
call a week from that time, and they would be prepared to execute the
deed. This I thought was very fair, and I left the office. On the
appointed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</SPAN></span> day I called, and found the office closed, as the managers
had sloped."</p>
<p>The conversation then turned upon Police Courts, and the facilities
which they afforded in aiding a person to get glimpses of the elephant.
It was conceded that the experience of Dropper, just related, opened
very fair, and, on the suggestion of Mr. Quackenbush, it was resolved:</p>
<p>1. That the members of the club do make it their business</p>
<p>2. To visit the Police Courts</p>
<p>3. Before the next meeting of the club.</p>
<p>The meeting was adjourned by the club, singing, "We're all jolly good
fellows."</p>
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