Everybody
is expected to tell his friend, and his friend is expected to help
the generous man out with his generous scheme, and all are expected
to join in the "bender." Nobody must forget that the whole thing is
to come off at "Your House,"-an eating and drinking saloon, of great
capacity, kept by the very distinguished man, Mr. O'Brodereque.
Mr. O'Brodereque, who always pledges his word upon the honour of a
southern gentleman-frequently asserting his greatness in the
political world, and wondering who could account for his not finding
his way into Congress, where talent like his would be brought out
for the protection of our south-has made no end of money by selling
a monstrous deal of very bad liquor to customers of all
grades,--niggers excepted. And, although his hair is well mixed with
the grey of many years, he declares the guilt of selling liquor to
niggers is not on his shoulders. It is owing to this clean state of
his character, that he has been able to maintain his aristocratic
position. "Yes, indeed," said one of his patrons, who, having fallen
in arrears, found himself undergoing the very disagreeable process
of being politely kicked into the street, "money makes a man big in
the south: big in niggers, big in politics, big with everything but
the way I'm big,--with an empty pocket. I don't care, though; he's
going up by the process that I'm coming down. There's philosophy in
that." It could not be denied that Mr. O'Brodereque-commonly called
General O'Brodereque-was very much looked up to by great people and
Bacchanalians,--men who pay court to appease the wondrous discontent
of the belly, to the total neglect of the back.
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