t is a good thing I was not there at that time, for at the sight of
tears in the faces of those dear women I would have been driven to sheer
madness. I believe I would have taken a club to the hard-hearted or
stupid Tescheron and murdered him with mince-meat minuteness in the
presence of the gossipers lolling around the fireplace in the
living-room. At the time of the tearful scene between mother and
daughter, a dramatic passage that has its counterpart in many homes
invaded by a son-in-law, the cruel Tescheron, the obstacle in the path
of true love, was listening to mine host, August Stuffer, three hundred
and fifty-two pounds of Hoboken manhood seated in a Windsor chair built
of wood and steel to resemble the Williamsburg Bridge about the legs, so
stoutly was it trussed, braced and riveted to carry its enormous load.
This wheezy spinner of yarns, in a tone of apoplectic huskiness, was
telling his guests about the peculiar stuffed cat, which advertised the
hotel far and wide from its glass case near the main entrance.

It was my joke that introduced Mr. Tescheron to this cat. Mr. Stuffer's
eloquence and the fire's hypnotic rays must have worked the consequent
charm at which I have often marveled.

"Jersey Jerry was the name of that cat," said Stuffer, a gentle wheeze
playing about his upper rigging, as he spread out into the open sea of
truth. "And he was a most unfortunate cat, because he was born blind and
had to learn the town by feeling his way. He went everywhere and had
more friends than most cats with eyes--strange but true--and principally
among cats. He was sociable because he had to work his friends. He knew
us around here by our sounds" (it was an easy matter for him to sound
the tale-teller), "and he used to rub his whiskers against a stranger's
legs till he got to know the man. You'd 'a' thought he'd rub 'em all
off, but not so; it seemed to make 'em grow twice as long--biggest
whiskers for a cat of his size I ever see. Well, sir, I came down here
to the back door one night to lock up, heard him scratching and let him
in. He gave me an awful scare, for as he looked up two big blazing eyes
shone brighter than the lantern I was carrying. From his squeal I knew
it was Jerry, so I picked him up and brought him over here to get a good
look at him. I could see at once that it was the work of those Stevens
students. They had taken an ordinary pair of glass eyes such as are made
for stuffed cats, and in the back o