Chapter IV

But when he came, the proprietor of the Pelatiah Hopkins place incontinently vamosed.

“Rogers,” said Mr. Smith, “Lumpkin is come.”

“High time,” replied Rogers.

“Please announce the fact.”

“There will be a tempest; hadn’t we better have the smelling salts handy?”

“Ay, cod-liver oil would do as well; there is a smell of codfish in this vicinity.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Squire Rogers to the little knot of uppercrusts that occupied the head of the hall, “I have the honor of informing you that the Hon. Mr. Lumpkin has come.”

This announcement produced a very decided sensation. Miss Araminta Pipkin heaved a deep sigh, and almost fainted in anticipation of the presentation.

“Where is he?” asked Mr. Adolphus Pipkin, glancing eagerly around the room.

“The illustrious gentleman is close at hand.”

“Band, play the grand march.”

The band struck up “Hail Columbia.”

Mr. Smith, exhibiting a most wonderful command of himself, while every body else was excited by the event about to transpire, stood by the side of Lizzie Lee, engaged in a familiar conversation. Joe Maple, in view of the very marked attentions of Mr. Smith to his intended, had begun to grow a little jealous, and half regretted that he had been so polite to the owner of the Hopkins place.

“Mr. Lumpkin,” said Rogers, breaking in upon the pleasant conference, “the company wait your presence.”

“Hey, squire! this is Mr. Smith,” said Maple.

“The Hon. Mr. Lumpkin,” continued Rogers.

“You will pardon the little trick I have played upon you,” said Mr. Smith; “my name is Lumpkin, M. C.”

“You don’t say so!” exclaimed Joe Maple.

“Just so.”

“And I’ve been talking to you just as though you was a common man.”

“So I am.”

“Ain’t you one of them ’ere Congress fellers?”

“Certainly, but one of the people; and, between you and I and the barn, as we say out west, I am no friend of such folks as these over here;” and Mr. Lumpkin pointed significantly to the élite of Tiptop.

“You are a brick, squire!” and Joe hawhawed with right good will; “but I suppose we shan’t see you again to-night, if you are going over there?”

“Yes; Miss Lee, I claim your hand for the next dance, according to your promise.”

“I shall be almost afraid to dance with you now,” simpered Lizzie.

“Hush, Liz! talk up to him,” whispered Joe; “a Congress chap ain’t any better than any body else.”

“Mr. Lumpkin, your admirers will become impatient,” suggested Squire Rogers, with an ironical smile.

“Excuse me for a few moments, Miss Lee;” and Mr. Lumpkin, taking the arm of the squire, walked towards the head of the hall.

Joe Maple, whose keen relish for “some sport” did not permit him to remain in the background, followed in their wake.

“Miss Pipkin, the Hon. Mr. Lumpkin,” said Squire Rogers.

The amiable lady raised her eyes, which had been fixed in maidenly coyness upon the floor, and beheld the abominable Mr. Smith, the abhorred owner of the Pelatiah Hopkins place!

“Why—I—yes—I declare—I have met—you before, this evening,” stammered the leader of the female ton.

“Should rather think you had!” roared Joe Maple, who has since declared that he thought “he should ha’ died a larfin’.”

“We have; I had the honor of being refused the pleasure of your hand at the first dance,” said Mr. Lumpkin, with a full display of congressional dignity.

“Mr. Pipkin, the Hon. Mr. Lumpkin, M. C., from the west,” continued Squire Rogers, who, notwithstanding he felt a little nervous on account of the seat in the legislature, was in very tolerable spirits, and heartily enjoyed the discomfiture of the “codfish” party.

“Happy to know you, Mr. Pipkin. You demanded satisfaction of me in the early part of the evening; should be happy to afford it.”

“You will pardon me, sir; there was some mistake; I would not of course have spoken in that manner to a member of Congress.”

Mr. Lumpkin, not being above the infirmities of human nature, sneered rather rudely at the Tiptop exquisite, as much as to say, “You ought to treat every body well, whether they are public or private individuals.”

The master of ceremonies discharged the duties of his office with punctilious formality. It seemed to the sufferers that he was unnecessarily minute in his presentation ceremonial, permitting the distinguished gentleman to make a home thrust at each one of the persons who had been so rude to Mr. Smith.

The introductions were happily concluded, and a more chopfallen set than the élite of Tiptop never gathered together in the same hall.

Miss Pipkin was in an agony. She had actually turned up her nose to a member of Congress. Of course she could no longer hope to make a conquest of his heart; the vision of being a distinguished lady melted quite away.

But then “it is an ill wind that blows no one any good.” If Miss Pipkin could not have a member of Congress, she at least had the consolation of saying that she had refused the hand of the Hon. Mr. Lumpkin, which, to a lady of her peculiar turn of mind, was an immense satisfaction.

Mr. Lumpkin returned to the side of Lizzie Lee, who, maugre her coyness, was tolerably sociable. Joe Maple, from the abundance of his good nature, vowed he might dance with her just as many times as he pleased.

About eleven o’clock, Miss Pipkin suggested to her brother that the delicate state of her health would not permit her to endure the excitement of the dance any longer, and when the leader of the ton left, the followers went after her.

But the common folks “staid it out,” and Mr. Lumpkin confessed that he enjoyed the ball very much indeed; for, true to his duty as a public man, it had enabled him to administer a suitable reproof to the pretensions of the Tiptopites.

Joe Maple and Lizzie Lee—since Mrs. Maple—have not yet forgotten the part they acted, and perhaps they may be pardoned for a slight display of vanity, as they relate the particulars of The Grand Reception Ball.