He was soon afterwards followed by a little old woman at a foot amble,
or sort of broken trot, such as distinguishes a Naraganset pacer. She
had a hat in her hand, which she hastily put on the man's head. But,
as she had to jump up to do it, she effected it with a force that made
it cover his eyes, and nearly extinguish his nose. It caused the man
to stop and adjust it, when he turned round to his flapper, and, by
the motion of his hand, and her retrogade movement, it appeared he did
not receive this delicate attention very graciously. Duty however was
pressing him, and he resumed his stately step towards the bars.
She attacked him again in the rear, as a goose does an intruder, and
now and then picked something from his coat, which I supposed to be a
vagrant thread, or a piece of lint or straw, and then retreated a step
or two to avoid closer contact. He was compelled at last to turn again
on his pursuer, and expostulate with her in no gentle terms. I heard
the words "mind your own business," or something of the kind, and the
female voice more distinctly (women always have the best of it), "You
look as if you had slept in it. You ain't fit to appear before
gentlemen." Ladies she had been unaccustomed of late to see, and
therefore omitted altogether. "What would Colonel Jones say if he saw
you that way?"
To which the impatient man replied: "Colonel Jones be hanged.
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