Elbow-Room | Page 6

should telegraph
for him."
"By that time," shrieked Mr. Fogg, "the baby'll be dead and Maria will
be insane! What, under Heaven, are we going to do about it?"
"Let's hunt up Brown; maybe he knows."
So they went around to Dr. Brown's office and revealed the secret to
him. Brown seemed to think that he might perhaps do something to rob
the situation of its horrors, and he accompanied Mr. Fogg and Dr. Gill
to the house. When they entered, Mrs. Fogg was rapidly becoming
hysterical. Dr. Brown placed the baby on the bed; he slapped its little
hands and rubbed its forehead and dashed cold water in its face. In a
few moments the baby opened its eyes, then it suddenly sat up and
began to cry. Mr. Fogg used to hate that noise, but now it seemed to
him sweeter than music. Mrs. Fogg was wild with joy. She took the
baby in her arms and kissed and hugged it, and then she said,
"What do you think was the matter with him, doctor?"
"Why, your husband says he mesmerized the child," replied the doctor,
incautiously letting the secret drop.
Then Mrs. Fogg looked at the culprit as if she wished to assassinate
him; but she merely ejaculated, "Monster!" and flew from the room;
and Mr. Fogg, as he went down with the physicians, put on an injured
look and said,
"If that baby wants to holloa now, I'm going to let him holloa, if he

holloas the top of his head off."
* * * * *
It was this offence, according to popular rumor, that brought things to a
crisis in Mr. Fogg's family and induced Mrs. Fogg to seek to remove
the heavy burden of woe imposed upon her by her husband. Only a few
days later Mr. and Mrs. Fogg knocked at the door of Colonel Coffin's
law office, and then filed in, Mrs. Fogg in advance. Mr. Fogg, the
reader may care to know, was a subdued, weak-eyed and timid person.
He had the air of a victim of perpetual tyranny--of a man who had been
ruthlessly and remorselessly sat upon until his spirit was wholly gone.
And Mrs. Fogg looked as if she might have been his despot. She
opened the conversation by addressing the lawyer:
"Colonel, I have called to engage you as my counsel in a divorce suit
against Mr. Fogg. I have resolved to separate from him--to sunder our
ties and henceforth to live apart."
"Indeed!" replied the colonel; "I'm sorry to hear that. What's the matter?
Has he been beating and ill-treating you?"
"Beating!" exclaimed Mrs. Fogg, disdainfully; "I should think not! I
should like him to try it."
"Maria, let me--" interposed Mr. Fogg, mildly.
"Now, Wilberforce," she exclaimed, interrupting him, "you remain
quiet; I will explain this matter to Colonel Coffin. You see, colonel, Mr.
Fogg is eccentric beyond endurance. He goes on continually in a
manner that will certainly drive me to distraction. I can stand it no
longer. We must be cut asunder. For years, colonel, Wilberforce has
been attempting to learn to play upon the flute. He has no more idea of
music than a crow, but he will try to learn. He has been practicing upon
the flute since 1862, and he has learned but a portion of but one
tune--'Nelly Bly.' He can play but four notes, 'Nelly Bly shuts--' and
there he stops. He has practiced these four notes for fourteen years. He
plays them upon the porch in the evening; he blows them out from the

garret; he stands out in the yard and puffs them; he has frequently risen
in the night and seized his flute and played 'Nel-ly Bly shuts' for hours,
until I had to scream to relieve my feelings."
"Now, Maria," said Mr. Fogg, "you know that I can play as far as 'shuts
her eye'--six notes in all. I learned them in the early part of June."
"Very well, now; it's of no consequence. Don't interrupt me. This is bad
enough. I submitted to it because I loved him. But on Tuesday, while I
was watching him through the crack of the parlor door, I saw him wink
twice at my chambermaid; I saw him distinctly."
"Maria," shrieked Fogg, "this is scandalous. You know very well that I
am suffering from a nervous affection of the eye-lids."
"Wilberforce, hush! In addition to this wickedness, colonel, Mr. Fogg is
becoming so absent-minded that he torments my life; he makes me
utterly wretched. Four times now has he brought his umbrella to bed
with him and scratched me by joggling it around with the sharp points
of the ribs toward me. What on earth he means I cannot imagine. He
said he thought somehow it was the