- end_line
- 4847
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:45.581Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 4772
- text
- was now crowing and jubilating somewhere on the verdant banks of Long
Island Sound.
But next morning, again I heard the inspiring blast, again felt
my blood bound in me, again felt superior to all the ills of life,
again felt like turning my dun out of doors. But displeased with the
reception given him at his last visit, the dun stayed away, doubtless
being in a huff. Silly fellow that he was to take a harmless joke in
earnest.
Several days passed, during which I made sundry excursions in the
regions roundabout, but in vain sought the cock. Still, I heard him
from the hill, and sometimes from the house, and sometimes in the
stillness of the night. If at times I would relapse into my doleful
dumps straightway at the sound of the exultant and defiant crow, my
soul, too, would turn chanticleer, and clap her wings, and throw back
her throat, and breathe forth a cheerful challenge to all the world of
woes.
At last, after some weeks I was necessitated to clap another mortgage
on my estate, in order to pay certain debts, and among others the one
I owed the dun, who of late had commenced a civil-process against me.
The way the process was served was a most insulting one. In a private
room I had been enjoying myself in the village tavern over a bottle of
Philadelphia porter, and some Herkimer cheese, and a roll, and having
apprised the landlord, who was a friend of mine, that I would settle
with him when I received my next remittances, stepped to the peg where
I had hung my hat in the bar-room, to get a choice cigar I had left in
the hall, when lo! I found the civil-process enveloping the cigar. When
I unrolled the cigar, I unrolled the civil-process, and the constable
standing by rolled out, with a thick tongue, "Take notice!" and added,
in a whisper, "Put that in your pipe and smoke it!"
I turned short round upon the gentlemen then and there present in that
bar-room. Said I, "Gentlemen, is this an honorable--nay, is this a
lawful way of serving a civil-process? Behold!"
One and all they were of opinion, that it was a highly inelegant act
in the constable to take advantage of a gentleman's lunching on cheese
and porter, to be so uncivil as to slip a civil-process into his hat.
It was ungenerous; it was cruel; for the sudden shock of the thing
coming instanter upon the lunch, would impair the proper digestion
of the cheese, which is proverbially not so easy of digestion as
_blanc-mange_.
Arrived at home I read the process, and felt a twinge of melancholy.
Hard world! hard world! Here I am, as good a fellow as ever
lived--hospitable--open-hearted--generous to a fault; and the Fates
forbid that I should possess the fortune to bless the country with
my bounteousness. Nay, while many a stingy curmudgeon rolls in
idle gold, I, heart of nobleness as I am, I have civil-processes
served on me! I bowed my head, and felt forlorn--unjustly
used--abused--unappreciated--in short, miserable.
Hark! like a clarion! yea, like a bolt of thunder with bells to
it--came the all-glorious and defiant crow! Ye gods, how it set me up
again! Right on my pins! Yes, verily on stilts!
Oh, noble cock!
Plain as cock could speak, it said, "Let the world and all aboard of
it go to pot. Do you be jolly, and never say die! What's the world
compared to you? What is it, anyhow, but a lump of loam? Do you be
jolly!"
Oh, noble cock!
"But my dear and glorious cock," mused I, upon second thought, "one
can't so easily send this world to pot; one can't so easily be jolly
with civil-processes in his hat or hand."
Hark! the crow again. Plain as cock could speak, it said: "Hang the
process, and hang the fellow that sent it! If you have not land or
cash, go and thrash the fellow, and tell him you never mean to pay him.
Be jolly!"
- title
- Chunk 2