The system did not work smoothly at first, in consequence of Overtop’s and Maltboy’s strained, excessive efforts to make themselves agreeable.  It happened that, at the first two or three houses visited, Maltboy discovered charming young ladies, and could not resist the temptation to linger beyond the prescribed minutes, and talk trifles to them.  It also fell out, that Overtop found a number of those sensible women for whom his heart ever longed, and whose starving souls, as he called them, were not to be satisfied with the dry crust of ordinary compliment.  To them, therefore, he addressed observations on the inner or spiritual significance of the New Year’s call; on the reminiscences of childhood suggested by sleigh bells; on the typical meaning of snow as the shroud of death, and, at the same time, the warming garment of coming life; on wine or lemonade (as the case might be), as an emblem of hospitality; and on many other little things as expressive of the loftiest truths.

It was only after earnest remonstrances from Quigg, that the discursive Overtop brought himself down to the rules of the day.  In deference to Quigg, Mr. Maltboy also steeled his too susceptible heart against the attractions which he was perpetually encountering, and kept strictly to the weather.  He, as well as Overtop, was surprised to find that the single stereotyped observation, “It’s a fine day,” was, after all, more acceptable than a longer and more strikingly original remark for it imposed no tax upon the conversational resources of the ladies, and left them unfatigued to succeeding scores of visitors.

About this time, it was observed of Captain Tonkins that he began to show signs of fatigue, rocking heavily in his seat with every oscillation of the sleigh, and talking thick like a jaded man.  These phenomena seeming to require some explanation, the Captain stated that he had been up late the past three nights, and could keep himself awake only by taking occasional draughts of Quigg’s brandy.  The Captain then proceeded to indulge in random recollections of his political career, and withering denunciations of one Larry Mulcahy, his successful rival for the office of School Inspector, whom the Captain did not hesitate to brand as a jailbird.

When the party returned to the block where the Overtop theory was to be tested, Mr. Quigg’s services were found invaluable.  He had not only been the principal grocer in the vicinity for five years, but he had served on Ward Committees for the relief of the poor at other people’s expense, and had participated largely in those admirable institutions for the promotion of matrimony known as Sociables.  Therefore, Quigg knew about everybody on the block worth knowing.  There were a few persons in that old house near the corner, who sent in for herrings, cheap butter, and pounds of flour, and whom, of course, he did not know.  There was a queer old Dutchman in that square, old-fashioned house in the middle of the block, whom neither he nor anybody else knew.