But Sellers began to speak now, and the storm ceased.
He began to tell about an enormous speculation he
was thinking of embarking some capital in—a
speculation which some London bankers had been over
to consult with him about—and soon he was
building glittering pyramids of coin, and Washington
was presently growing opulent under the magic of his
eloquence. But at the same time Washington was
not able to ignore the cold entirely. He was
nearly as close to the stove as he could get, and
yet he could not persuade himself, that he felt the
slightest heat, notwithstanding the isinglass’
door was still gently and serenely glowing.
He tried to get a trifle closer to the stove, and the
consequence was, he tripped the supporting poker and
the stove-door tumbled to the floor. And then
there was a revelation—there was nothing
in the stove but a lighted tallow-candle! The
poor youth blushed and felt as if he must die with
shame. But the Colonel was only disconcerted
for a moment—he straightway found his voice
again:
“A little idea of my own, Washington—one
of the greatest things in the world! You must
write and tell your father about it—don’t
forget that, now. I have been reading up some
European Scientific reports—friend of mine,
Count Fugier, sent them to me—sends me all
sorts of things from Paris—he thinks the
world of me, Fugier does. Well, I saw that the
Academy of France had been testing the properties of
heat, and they came to the conclusion that it was
a nonconductor or something like that, and of course
its influence must necessarily be deadly in nervous
organizations with excitable temperaments, especially
where there is any tendency toward rheumatic affections.
Bless you I saw in a moment what was the matter with
us, and says I, out goes your fires!—no
more slow torture and certain death for me, sir.
What you want is the appearance of heat, not the
heat itself—that’s the idea.
Well how to do it was the next thing. I just
put my head, to work, pegged away, a couple of days,
and here you are! Rheumatism? Why a man
can’t any more start a case of rheumatism in
this house than he can shake an opinion out of a mummy!
Stove with a candle in it and a transparent door—that’s
it—it has been the salvation of this family.
Don’t you fail to write your father about it,
Washington. And tell him the idea is mine—I’m
no more conceited than most people, I reckon, but
you know it is human nature for a man to want credit
for a thing like that.”
Washington said with his blue lips that he would,
but he said in his secret heart that he would promote
no such iniquity. He tried to believe in the
healthfulness of the invention, and succeeded tolerably
well; but after all he could not feel that good health
in a frozen, body was any real improvement on the
rheumatism.
CHAPTER VIII.
—Whan pe horde
is thynne, as of seruyse,
Nought replenesshed with grete diuersite
Of mete & drinke, good chere may then suffise
With honest talkyng——
The Book of Curtesye.
Copyrights
The Gilded Age from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
