University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.
The Author grows weary of his wife, and mistakes the Schuylkill
for the river Lethe.—The tragical adventure that befell a young
gentleman in that romantic tide, with its effects upon the destinies
of Sheppard Lee.

It may be supposed, since I was able to amuse
my mind with such observations, that they detracted
from the miseries of my condition, or at least assuaged
in some measure my pangs. But as well
might one believe that the condemned malefactor,
who looks out from his cart on the volunteer companies
escorting him to the gallows, and admires
the splendid incoherence of their trappings—their
infantry coats and horsemen's hats, their republican
faces and imperial colours—feels thereby less
dissatisfaction with his shroud and coffin, and the
rope coiled so inelegantly round his neck. My
observations were made only at intervals that were
both brief and rare. My wife was the most attentive
creature that ever set a husband distracted;
and under the plea of nursing me, gave me so much
of her company, that I was gradually driven to
desperation. In course of time I was happily able
to get into my barouche, and thus, for a short hour
or two, escape my tormentor. Had that period
been deferred a week later, I should certainly have
taken an ounce of arsenic that I found lying in a
closet, though I knew it was awful bad stuff to
swallow.

As soon as I found myself once more at liberty,
I began to con over a project I had formed of
deserting my dear Margaret altogether; and this I
resolved to put into execution the moment my foot
should be well enough for travelling. But, oh
horror! just as the doctor pronounced me cured,
I was seized with a second paroxysm, and beheld
nothing before me but eternal captivity and unmitigated
wife!

This attack was brought on by the mere triumph
of restoration. The afternoon before, I drove
out upon the Schuylkill, with Tim and another
friend; and several other jolly dogs meeting us,
we stopped together at a well-known house of
entertainment on the banks of that river, and resolved
to enjoy ourselves. I declare in all sincerity
that I was very moderate both in eating and
drinking; but having sat at the table until after
nightfall, and being well content to tarry longer,
I made a sudden and rash resolution not to return
that night at all, nor upon the following day either,
if I could avoid it. But as it was necessary to
account for my absence to my wife, I instructed
Tim to tell her I had contracted a sudden fit
of podagra, which made it proper I should not
expose myself to the night-air. With this fib in
his mouth, Tim, who considered the whole thing a
capital joke, as indeed he did every other of my
devising, returned to the city, whither he was followed
by the others before midnight.

Now whether it was that the immoderate satisfaction

I indulged in, at enjoying even a few hours
of quiet, was an excess capable of bringing on a
paroxysm of gout,—whether it was the unwholesome
night-air of the Schuylkill, so famous for its
agues and bilious fevers, or whether indeed it was
not the lie I had invented, which was punished
upon me in the reality of the affliction I had assumed,—it
is certain that I woke up the next morning
in quite a feverish condition, and with all the
symptoms of returning podagra, though I did not
immediately suspect it. It was not until towards
nightfall that I understood my situation.

In the meanwhile Tim had returned, and again
driven back to town without me, to assure my affectionate
spouse, that, being entirely recovered, I
thought it best to defer my return until the evening;
at which time I proposed to be sick again, so
as to excuse my remaining from home a second
night. In this way I designed to put off my return
from night till morning, and from morning till night,
as long as I could.

Feeling a little better about dinner-time, I indulged
in a hearty meal, and then lay down. But
I had not slept many hours before I dreamed the
devil was tugging at my foot with a pair of red-hot
tongs; and starting up in anguish, I perceived
clearly enough that my malady had returned.

“Miserable wretch that I am!” I cried; “why
was I not content to be Sheppard Lee? Was
poverty worse than the gout? was debt equal in
torment to a scolding wife? What a fool I was to

change my condition.—Would that I was now a
dog!”

I hobbled down to the porch of the inn, not without
pain, for my foot was awfully tender, and began
to picture to myself the misery that was inevitably
prepared for me. The thought of living a
month longer in the same house with my wife,
entirely at her mercy, drove me to despair; in the
midst of which, being roused by the sound of approaching
wheels, I looked up, and beheld my wife
herself, advancing as fast as my elegant bays could
bear her, to pay me a visit. I knew her by her
white feathers, and my brother Tim was sitting at
her side.

At this sight my philosophy forsook me altogether;
I fell into a phrensy, and disregarding the
condition of my foot, or rather sharpened and confirmed
in my purpose by the pangs it gave me, I
rushed down to the river-side towards a spot where
I knew there was deep water, resolved to throw
myself in without a moment's delay; and this without
considering that, as it was hot weather, I should
spoil the water drunk by my fellow-citizens. This
was an objection that partly occurred to me before,
when debating the subject of drowning; and I think
it so serious a one, that I would recommend to
the councils of Philadelphia to appoint a bailiff,
whose express duty should be to prevent people
drowning themselves in the basin; and the same
person might have an eye to the drowned cats,
dogs, pigs, calves, dead fish, and swimming boys,

that somewhat detract from the agreeableness of
the water.

I reached the place just as the barouche drew
up at the door, and hopping forward, I began to slip
off my coat and waistcoat, and draw out my watch
and pocketbook, though for what purpose, I am
sure I cannot say. But what was my surprise to
perceive myself forestalled in my intentions by another
person, who stood upon the very rock from
which I designed to throw myself, and was evidently
preparing to exercise justice upon himself in the
same summary way. He was a tall, lank personage,
of highly genteel figure and habit; but his
back being towards me, I could not see his face.

I had scarce laid eyes upon him before, with a
very violent motion of his arm, he cast his hat into
the stream, and immediately afterward his neck-cloth;
then slapping his hands together like one
who is about rushing into a fight, and rushing into
it with resolution, he exclaimed, “The devil take
all women and tailors!” and leaped into the river,
which instantly closed over his head.

I was so petrified at his rashness that I forgot
my own, and stood staring on the water, as it came
rushing in agitated ripples to the shore, lost in such
confusion and horror, that for a space of a minute
or more I neither moved hand nor foot. The
water, which, previous to the plunge, had been as
smooth as a mirror, was fast regaining its tranquillity,
when, on a sudden, a great bubbling began to
appear a few yards below the rock, and I saw the

top of a man's head come to the surface, and immediately
after sink again.

At that sight, my presence of mind was restored;
and being much concerned that a young fellow, as
he appeared to be, should perish so miserably, I
rushed into the river, and being a good diver, had
but little trouble to fish him up, and drag him to
the shore. But I pulled him out a moment too
late; he was as dead as a herring, or appeared to
be; for his countenance was distorted, and blue as
an in digo-bag, and his mouth full of foam; a circumstance
which I regretted the more, as I no
sooner looked him in the face than I recognised
the features of my friend, if I may so call him, Mr.
I. Dulmer Dawkins.

As I was dragging the body to the shore, a carriage
came rattling along the road, which is there
so near to the river that those who were in it could
easily perceive the act in which I was engaged,
and they stopped it to give me assistance. It was
at that very moment that I discovered who it was
I was carrying; and I was so much surprised at
the discovery, that I cried out in a loud voice, “I.
D. Dawkins, by the Lord!”

There was immediately a great screaming in the
carriage, and out rushed my aristocratical neighbour,
Mr. Periwinkle Smith, with two young ladies,
one of whom was his daughter; and such an uproar
and lamentation as they made about me, were perhaps
never before made by so small a number of
genteel people, on any occasion. I was particularly

affected by the expressions of the fair Miss
Smith, who seemed overcome by grief; and, as I
did not doubt she had an affection for the young
fellow, I wondered what folly could have driven
him into this act of suicide.

But my wonder was not very long-lived; the
cries of the two ladies had reached the inn, and
drawn every soul therein to the scene of disaster.
They came running towards us, and I saw that my
wife was among them.

I could maintain my equanimity no longer: in
the bitterness of my heart I muttered, almost aloud,
and as sincerely as I ever muttered any thing in
my life, “I would I were this addle-pate Dawkins,
were it only to be lying as much like a drowned
rat as he!”

I had not well grumbled the last word, before a
sudden fire flashed before my eyes, a loud noise
like the roar of falling water passed through my
head, and I lost all sensation and consciousness.