- end_line
- 1947
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1897
- text
- his cheek, may it last long as the bloom in his heart!" And they, the
sweet ladies and gentlemen there, they drank that toast so gayly and
frankly off; and Jimmy, such a kind, proud, grateful tear stood in his
honest eye, angelically glancing round at the sparkling faces, and
equally sparkling, and equally feeling, decanters.
Ah! poor, poor Jimmy--God guard us all--poor Jimmy Rose!
Well, it was but four or five days after this that I heard a clap of
thunder--no, a clap of bad news. I was crossing the Bowling Green in
a snow-storm not far from Jimmy's house on the Battery, when I saw a
gentleman come sauntering along, whom I remembered at Jimmy's table as
having been the first to spring to his feet in eager response to the
lady's toast. Not more brimming the wine in his lifted glass than the
moisture in his eye on that happy occasion.
Well, this good gentleman came sailing across the Bowling Green,
swinging a silver-headed rattan; seeing me, he paused: "Ah, lad, that
was rare wine Jimmy gave us the other night. Sha'n't get any more,
though. Heard the news? Jimmy's burst. Clean smash, I assure you. Come
along down to the Coffeehouse and I'll tell you more. And if you say
so, we'll arrange over a bottle of claret for a sleighing party to
Cato's to-night. Come along."
"Thank you," said I, "I--I--I am engaged."
Straight as an arrow I went to Jimmy's. Upon inquiring for him, the man
at the door told me that his master was not in; nor did he know where
he was; nor had his master been in the house for forty-eight hours.
Walking up Broadway again, I questioned passing acquaintances; but
though each man verified the report, no man could tell where Jimmy was,
and no one seemed to care, until I encountered a merchant, who hinted
that probably Jimmy, having scraped up from the wreck a snug lump of
coin, had prudently betaken himself off to parts unknown. The next man
I saw, a great nabob he was too, foamed at the mouth when I mentioned
Jimmy's name. "Rascal; regular scamp, Sir, is Jimmy Rose! But there
are keen fellows after him." I afterward heard that this indignant
gentleman had lost the sum of seventy-five dollars and seventy-five
cents indirectly through Jimmy's failure. And yet I dare say the share
of the dinners he had eaten at Jimmy's might more than have balanced
that sum, considering that he was something of a wine-bibber, and such
wines as Jimmy imported cost a plum or two. Indeed, now that I bethink
me, I recall how I had more than once observed this same middle-aged
gentleman, and how that toward the close of one of Jimmy's dinners
he would sit at the table pretending to be earnestly talking with
beaming Jimmy, but all the while, with a half furtive sort of tremulous
eagerness and hastiness, pour down glass after glass of noble wine, as
if now, while Jimmy's bounteous sun was at meridian, was the time to
make his selfish hay.
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- Chunk 17