340 



KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



The poor girl thought me unjust and 

 provoking, and retired to her kitchen. I felt 

 that I was, in fact, unjust and provoking — 

 both ; I therefore was very angry with her ; 

 and calling to mind a certain chicken she 

 had spoiled in roasting the month before, I 

 thought of dismissing her. I was (let me con- 

 fess it) at that time the complete dupe of 

 " the shabby fellow" hidden in the bosom of 

 every man. I was quite persuaded of my 

 vexation at not being able to send the money, 

 and did not perceive that it was (in reality) 

 only the ill-temper caused by the request to 

 borrow it, which led me to scold the servant ; 

 an ill-temper warmed up for her, much as 

 she might have warmed up yesterday's soup 

 for me. 



And then, I began to abuse servants in 

 general ; and to think of the poor fellow who 

 relied upon me, and had every right to do so. 



"Still," said I, "there is no help for it. 

 Without the address, it is impossible. Deuce 

 take the girl ! " She returned at that moment. 



11 Sir," said she, quite joyfully. " here it 

 is ! " 



"What?" 



" The address. I had put it under a stew- 

 pan." 



" A pretty place to put it !" said I, angrily. 

 This was a decent disguise for my ill-humor 

 at her having found the address. " It is too 

 late now" added 1. 



" I beg pardon, sir, it is not very far." 



u Not far ! what do you mean? " 



She maintained her opinion by circum- 

 stantial topographical details. I maintained 

 mine by others, and by disputing the correct- 

 ness of hers. This, too, for such a length of 

 time, that I ended by being in the right at 

 last, if not at first. That is, if there had been 

 time to send when I began to say there was 

 not, there certainly was none by the time I 

 had completed my demonstration. 



"Go and get dinner directly!" said I. 

 " I will run there myself, immediately after- 

 wards." 



She looked at me, and returned to the 

 kitchen without daring to tell me what she 

 thought of my plan of running in an hour 

 hence — when I contended it ivas too late to go 

 at once I 



I understood her look, and I felt the want 

 of an answer to an objection my conscience 

 hinted at. and which seemed to translate the 

 look. Either one thing or the other (said I 

 to myself, with the satisfaction of a man who 

 feels armed with a dilemma) — either my cor- 

 respondent has addressed himself elsewhere 

 (and having got what he wanted, does not 

 stand in need of my help), or he has not got 

 it. In that case, he will not be able to go 

 till to-morrow, and then it does not signify 

 whether he receives my answer in a quarter 

 of an hour or in an hour. 



Then, the " shabby fellow " I have spoken 

 of suggested to me : This gentleman takes 

 it quietly ; he might at least have returned, 

 or sent for the answer. 



The "honest man," who inhabits me 

 together with the " shabby one," whispered : 

 " You give yourself strange airs of superi- 

 ority, because you happen by chance, for 

 once, to possess five pounds more than 

 another person. How perfectly ridiculous ! 

 and how perfectly disgusting ! " 



And the " honest man " called the " shabby 

 fellow " by his real name, which obliged me 

 to see clearly and to decide between them. 

 During this time, dinner was ready. I 

 swallowed a mouthful in haste, took my hat 

 and cane, put in my pocket the required sum, 

 and rushed out. 



I walked quickly ; but it was dark, and I 

 soon lost myself. I inquired the way, and 

 then began to " think" as follows (decep- 

 tions all !) : — By the servant's fault, I could 

 not send the money directly. My corres- 

 pondent will interpret the delay into un- 

 willingness. I am quite unlucky ; perhaps 

 he has applied somewhere else, successfully. 

 I should be much vexed not to have been 

 able to do him this trifling service I must 

 write to my friend, and beg him to explain 

 how it has happened ; and make my excuses. 

 After all, it is not my fault, I have done all 

 I could. — The " shabby element " now 

 halted. 



The " honest man " listened to these 

 excuses, and was half persuaded by them. 

 He felt encouraged in his meanness, and tried 

 to push it a little further. Observe, it was 

 night. I had again lost my way. Recollect, 

 too, that at night one may kill people with 

 fear, by the same stories that by daylight 

 would kill them with laughter. Added to 

 which, with me (as with every one else), the 

 " shabby fellow " is more cunning than the 

 "honest man." Further, the " honest man" 

 is perhaps not quite so thoroughly honest as 

 the " shabby fellow " is thoroughly shabby. 



" After all," said he, " who knows whether 

 it really is my correspondent who has signed 

 this letter? I have never seen him. Nothing 

 would be easier than to deceive me. Any- 

 body may easily know of my intimacy with 



, and take the name of one of my 



friends. And when I say friends, even if 

 the name should be that of the writer ? who 



can say if he is a friend of 's ? I have 



heard talk of him with kindness, but 



then, he does so of everybody. W T ho knows 

 whether he himself would do what his friend 

 asks of me?" 



Meanwhile I had found the street, and was 

 looking for the number, Just at this 

 moment, two gens-d' amies passed. They 

 were walking quickly. "Perhaps," said the 

 1 shabby fellow,' " they are going to take up 



