Mr. Quigg nodded, and said, “Of course,” as if he had often heard of such instances, and there was nothing surprising in them.  He then abruptly cut off the Captain’s political reminiscences, by unlocking the store and entering it.  After a few minutes’ absence, he returned with a half-gallon jug and a tin dipper.

“A nice, fat little feller,” rapturously exclaimed Captain Tonkins, taking the proffered jug.  Placing it in the bottom of the sleigh, where such of the public as were stirring in that vicinity could not see the operation, he half filled the tin dipper, and, raising it suddenly to his mouth, drank the contents with a double gulp.  “Prime stuff, that,” said the Captain, smacking his lips.  “A hogshead of it would make a school commissioner, an alderman, mebbe a major of you, Quigg.”

“I dare say,” said Quigg.  “But what would a dull, practical fellow like me be good for in public life?” This was Quigg’s habitual way of depreciating himself, and it always impressed the hearer with a sense of Quigg’s eminent ability.

Quigg then drew a pair of yellow gloves on his large, hairy hands, slightly ripping the two thumbs and most of the fingers in the operation, took a seat in the double sleigh, and proclaimed himself ready to start.

CHAPTER V.

Pleasure as business.

Captain Tonkins cracked his whip with professional sonority over the heads of his lively horses, and they started off at a slapping pace, which brought them to the house of the three friends before the bells had fairly begun to jingle in unison.  The door was instantly opened, and Overtop and Maltboy presented themselves, dressed in the most elaborate and captivating style.  Marcus Wilkeson appeared just behind them, in his dressing gown and slippers, calmly smoking his well-browned Meerschaum.

After the salutations of the day, both Overtop and Maltboy addressed a last appeal to Marcus to give up his ridiculous prejudices, and join the party; but he obstinately refused, saying that he should make only one call, and that was upon the old gentleman over the way.

The arrangements for the day had already been made.  The party were to call on a few dozen of Quigg’s customers (selected from a carefully prepared list of one hundred) within range of a mile or two; also on a few friends of Overtop and Maltboy, who could not well be slighted, and then come back to the block.

Quigg looked upon the day as one of business, and not of pleasure, and had methodized a system of callmaking, which was submitted to his companions, and highly approved by them.  The order of exercises was as follows:  First, a jerk at the doorbell; second, precipitate entrance, hat in hand; third, “Happy New Year,” remark on fine weather, and introduction of friends; fourth, a second remark on fine weather, or any other one remark which might occur to friends on inspiration of moment; fifth, acceptance of one sip of wine, and one bite of cake, if any offered, with compliments on excellence of both; sixth, reference to list in hand, observation on the necessity of retiring, and regret for the same; seventh, precipitate retreat.