F. Colburn (Francis Colburn) Adams
Chapter 22
with. Bless you, (here Madame Flamingo waxes warm,) why I knew Tom
Swiggs years ago, when he wasn't what he is now! He was as dashing a
young buck then as you'd meet in the city; used to come here a
perfect gentleman; and I liked him, and he liked me, and he got to
liking the house, so you couldn't, if you had wanted to, have kept
him away. And he always had no end of money, which he used to spend
so freely. Poor fellow! (she sighs and shakes her head,) I confess I
used to almost love Tom then. Then he got to courting a lady-she
(Madame corrects herself) wasn't a lady though, she was only the
daughter of a mechanic of small means--mechanic families have no
standing in society, you see-and this cut deep into his mother's
pride. And she, you see, was not quite sure where she stood in
society, you see, and wouldn't for the world have her pride
lessened; so she discarded poor Tom. And the girl has been got out
of the way, and Tom has become penniless, and such a wreck of
dissipation that no respectable house will admit him. It's a stiff
old family, that Swiggs family! His mother keeps him threading in
and out of jail, just to be rid of him. She is a curious mother; but
when I think how he looks and acts, how can I wonder she keeps him
in jail? I had to put him there twice--I had! (Madame Flamingo
becomes emphatic.) But remembering what a friend of the house he
used to be, I took pity on him, let him out, and lent him two
dollars. And there's honor--I've great faith in honor-in Tom, who, I
honestly believe, providing the devil do not get him in one of his
fits, will pay all damages, notwithstanding I placed the reputation
of my house in jeopardy with him a few nights since, was forced to
call three policemen to eject him, and resolved that he should not
again darken my door."
CHAPTER III.
IN WHICH THE READER IS PRESENTED WITH A VARIED PICTURE.
TOM has passed a restless night in jail. He has dreamed of bottled
snakes, with eyes wickedly glaring at him; of fiery-tailed serpents
coiling all over him; of devils in shapes he has no language to