Once he offered to magnetize me in the manner of Monsieur
P------.
Wednesday, July 26th.--Dined at Barker's yesterday. Before dinner, sat
with several other persons in the stoop of the tavern. There were
B------, J. A. Chandler, Clerk of the Court, a man of middle age or
beyond, two or three stage people, and, near by, a negro, whom they call
"the Doctor," a crafty-looking fellow, one of whose occupations is
nameless. In presence of this goodly company, a man of a depressed,
neglected air, a soft, simple-looking fellow, with an anxious expression,
in a laborer's dress, approached and inquired for Mr. Barker. Mine host
being gone to Portland, the stranger was directed to the bar-keeper, who
stood at the door. The man asked where he should find one Mary Ann
Russell,--a question which excited general and hardly suppressed mirth;
for the said Mary Ann is one of a knot of women who were routed on Sunday
evening by Barker and a constable. The man was told that the black
fellow would give him all the information he wanted. The black fellow
asked,--
"Do you want to see her?"
Others of the by-standers or by-sitters put various questions as to the
nature of the man's business with Mary Ann.
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