The cobbler would leave his last; the barber would
thrust out his frizzed head, with a comb sticking in it; a knot would
collect at the grocer's door; and the word would be buzzed from one
end of the street to the other, "The doctor's riding out to his
country-seat."
These were golden moments for Dolph. No sooner was the doctor out of
sight, than pestle and mortar were abandoned; the laboratory was left
to take care of itself, and the student was off on some madcap frolic.
Indeed, it must be confessed, the youngster, as he grew up, seemed in
a fair way to fulfil the prediction of the old claret-coloured
gentleman. He was the ringleader of all holiday sports, and midnight
gambols; ready for all kinds of mischievous pranks, and harebrained
adventures.
There is nothing so troublesome as a hero on a small scale, or,
rather, a hero in a small town. Dolph soon became the abhorrence of
all drowsy, housekeeping old citizens, who hated noise, and had no
relish for waggery. The good dames, too, considered him as little
better than a reprobate, gathered their daughters under their wings
whenever he approached, and pointed him out as a warning to their
sons. No one seemed to hold him in much regard, excepting the wild
striplings of the place, who were captivated by his open-hearted,
daring manners, and the negroes, who always look upon every idle,
do-nothing youngster as a kind of gentleman.
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