Blocque.
He was a charming little fellow, acquainted with everybody--an
"employee of government," but employed to do heaven knows what; and
while others were starving, Mr. Blocque was as plump as a partridge. He
wore the snowiest shirt bosoms, glittering with diamond studs; the
finest broadcloth coats; the most brilliant patent leather shoes; and
his fat little hands sparkled with costly rings. He was constantly
smiling in a manner that was delightful to behold; hopped about and
chirped like a sparrow or tomtit; and was the soul of good humor and
enjoyment. There was no resisting his charms; he conquered you in five
minutes. When he linked his arm in yours, and chirped, "My dear friend,
come and dine with me--at five o'clock precisely--I shall certainly
expect you!" it was impossible to refuse the small gentleman's
invitation. Perhaps you asked yourself, "Who is my dear friend, Mr.
Blocque--how does he live so well, and wear broadcloth and fine linen?"
But the next moment you smiled, shrugged your shoulders, elevated your
eye-brows, and--went to dine with him.
I was like all the world, and at five o'clock one evening was shown
into Mr. Blocque's elegant residence on Shockoe Hill, by a servant in
white gloves, who bowed low, as he ushered me in. Mr. Blocque hastened
to receive me, with his most charming smile; I was introduced to the
guests, who had all arrived; and ten minutes afterward the folding
doors opened, revealing a superb banquet--for the word "dinner" would
be too common-place.
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