y observed, was a man of
few words; he was likewise a mortal enemy to multiplying writings--or
being disturbed at his breakfast. Having listened attentively to the
statement of Wandle Schoonhoven, giving an occasional grunt, as he
shoveled a spoonful of Indian pudding into his mouth,--either as a
sign that he relished the dish or comprehended the story,--he called
unto him his constable, and pulling out of his breeches pocket a huge
jack-knife, dispatched it after the defendant as a summons,
accompanied by his tobacco-box as a warrant."

When the account books were before him, "the sage Wouter took them one
after the other, and having poised them in his hands, and attentively
counted over the number of leaves, fell straightway into a great
doubt, and smoked for half an hour without saying a word; at length,
laying his finger beside his nose, and shutting his eyes for a moment,
with the air of a man who had just caught a subtle idea by the tail,
he slowly took his pipe from his mouth, puffed forth a column of
tobacco smoke, and with marvelous gravity and solemnity pronounced,
that, having carefully counted over the leaves and weighed the books,
it was found that one was just as thick and heavy as the other;
therefore, it was the final opinion of the court that the accounts
were equally balanced; therefore, Wandle should give Barent a receipt,
and Barent should give Wandle a receipt, and the constable should pay
the costs."

It is not wonderful that this was the first and last lawsuit during
his administration, and that no one was found who cared to hold the
office of constable.

This is only one of scores of droll stories to be found in this most
interesting "history."

CHAPTER VIII

FIVE UNEVENTFUL YEARS

It seems strange that the success of the "History of New York" did not
make Irving a professional man of letters at once. The profits on the
first edition were three thousand dollars, and several other editions
were to follow steadily. But though he wished to be a literary man,
and now knew that he might make a fair living by his writings, there
was still lacking the force to compel him to work. He had always lived
in easy circumstances, doing as he liked, enjoying society, and
amusing himself, and it was hard for him to devote his attention
strictly to any set task.

He applied for a clerkship at Albany, but failed to get it. Then his
brothers, with whom he must have been a great favorite, as he was