Punchinello, Vol. 1, No. 24, September 10, 1870 - Various
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Vol. I. No. 24.
PUNCHINELLO
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1870.
PUBLISHED BY THE
PUNCHINELLO PUBLISHING COMPANY,
83 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK.
* * * * *
THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD,
By ORPHEUS C. KERR,
Continued in this Number.
See 15th Page for Extra Premiums.
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THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD.
AN ADAPTATION.
BY ORPHEUS C. KERR.
CHAPTER XVII.
INSURANCE AND ASSURANCE.
Six months had come and gone and done it; the weather was as
inordinately hot as it had before been intolerably cold; and the
Reverend OCTAVIUS SIMPSON stood waiting, in the gorgeous Office of the
Boreal Life Insurance Company, New York, for the appearance of Mr.
MELANCTHON SCHENCK.
Having been directed by a superb young clerk, who parted his hair in the
middle, to "just stand out of the passage-way and amuse yourself with
one of our Schedules for awhile," until the great life-Agent should come
in, the Gospeler read a few schedulistic pages, proving, that if a
person had his life Insured at the age of Thirty, and paid his premiums
regularly until he was Eighty-five, the cost to him and profit to the
Company would, probably, be much more than the amount he had insured
for. It must, then, be evident to him, that, upon his death, at Ninety,
the Company would have received, in all, sufficient funds from him to
pay the full amount of his Policy to the lady whom he had always
introduced as his wife, and still retain enough to declare a handsome
Dividend for itself. Such was the sound business-principle upon which
the Boreal was conducted; and the merest child must perceive, that only
the extremely unlikely coincidence of at least four insurers all dying
before Eighty-five could endanger the solvency of the beneficent
institution.--Having mastered this convincing argument, and become
greatly confused by its plausibility, Mr. SIMPSON next gave some
attention to what was going on around him in the Office, and allowed his
overwrought mind to relax cheerfully in contemplation thereof. One of
human nature's peculiarities was quite amusingly exemplified in the
different treatment accorded to callers who were "safe risks," and to
those who were not. Thus, the whisper of "Here comes old Tubercles,
again!" was prevalent amongst the clerks upon the entrance of a very
thin, narrow-chested old gentleman, whom they informed, with
considerable humor, that he was only wasting hours which should be spent
with a spiritual adviser, in his useless attempts to take out a Policy
in _that_ office. The Boreal couldn't insure men who ought to be upon
their dying beds instead of coughing around Insurance offices. Ha, ha,
ha! Another gentleman, florid of countenance and absolutely without
neck, was quickly checked in the act of giving his name at one of the
desks; one clerk desiring another clerk to look, under the head of "A.,"
in his book, for "_Apoplexy_," and let this man see that we can't take
such a risk as he is on any terms. A third caller, who really looked
quite healthy except around the eyes, was also assured that he need not
call again--"Because, you see," explained the clerkly wag, "it's no go
for you to try to play your BRIGHT'S Disease on _us!_" When, however,
the applicant was a robustious, long-necked, fresh individual, he was
almost lifted from his feet in the rush of obliging young Boreals to
show him into the room of the Medical Examiner; and when, now and then,
an agent, or an insurance-broker, came dragging in, by the collar, some
Safe Risk, just captured, there was an actual contest to see who should
be most polite to the panting but healthy stranger, and obtain his
private biography for the consideration of the Company.
The Reverend OCTAVIUS studied these sprightly little scenes with
unspeakable interest until the arrival of Mr. SCHENCK, and then followed
that popular benefactor into his private office with the air of a man
who had gained a heightened admiration for his species.
"So you have come to your senses at last!" said Mr. SCHENCK, hastily
drawing his visitor toward a window in the side-room to which they had
retired. "Let me look at your tongue, sir."
"What do you mean?" asked the Gospeler, endeavoring to draw back.
"I mean what I say. Let--me--see--your--tongue.--Or, stop!" said Mr.
SCHENCK, seized with a new thought, "I may as well examine your general
organization first." And, flying at the astounded Ritualistic clergyman,
he had sounded his lungs, caused a sharp pain in his liver, and felt his
pulse, before the latter could phrase an intelligent protest.
"You may die at any moment, and probably will," concluded Mr. SCHENCK,
thoughtfully; "but still, on the score of friendship, we'll give you a
Policy for a reasonable amount, and take the chance of being able to
compromise with your mother on a certain per centage after the funeral."
"I don't want any of your plagued policies!" exclaimed the irritated
Gospeler, pushing away the hand striving to feel his pulse again.
"As you have expressed a desire to resign the guardianship of your
wards, Mr. and Miss PENDRAGON, and I have agreed to accept it, my
purpose in calling here is to obtain such statement of your account with
those young people as you may be disposed to render."
"Ah!" returned the other, in sullen disappointment. "That is all, eh?
Allow me to inform you, then, that I have cancelled the Boreal policies
which have been granted to the Murderer and his sister; and allow me
also to remark, that a dying clergyman like yourself might employ his
last moments better than encouraging a Southern destroyer of human
life."
"I do not, cannot believe that MONTGOMERY PENDRAGON is guilty," said Mr.
SIMPSON, firmly. "Having his full confidence, and thoroughly knowing his
nature, I am sure of his innocence, let appearances be what they may.
Consequently, it is my determination to befriend him."
"And you will not have your life insured?"
"I will not, sir. Please stop bothering me."
"And you call yourself a clergyman!" cried Mr. SCHENCK, with intense
scorn. "You pretend to be a Ritualistic spiritual guide; you champion
people who slay the innocent and steal devout men's umbrellas; and yet
you do not scruple to leave your own high-church Mother entirely without
provision at your death.--In such a case," continued the speaker,
rising, while his manner grew ferocious with determination--"in such a
case, all other arguments having failed, my duty is plain. Yon shall not
leave this room, sir, until you have promised to take out a Boreal
Policy."
He started, as he spoke, for the door of the private-office, intending
to lock it and remove the key; but the unhappy Ritualist, fathoming his
design, was there before him, and tore open the door for his own speedy
egress.