The
occurrence was canvassed at night with full house in the democratic
dormitory. When the jests incidental were hushed, and one after
another had retired to bed, Judge Dooly, then on the Bench, went
slowly to the only unappropriated bed, and undressing, folded down the
bed-clothes. Suddenly, as if he had forgotten something, he slipped to
the landing of the stairway and called anxiously for the landlord.
"Come up, if you please," he said to the answering host. Springer
commenced the ascent with slow and heavy tread; at length, after a
most exhausting effort, and breathing like a wounded bellows, he
lifted his mighty burden of flesh into the room.
"What is your will, Judge Dooly?" he asked, with a painful effort at
speech.
Dooly, standing in his shirt by the bedside and pointing to it, asked,
with much apparent solicitude, if that "was Major Walker's bed."
Springer felt the sarcasm keenly, and, amid the boisterous outburst of
laughter from every bed, turned and went down.
A thousand anecdotes might be related of the peculiar wit, sarcasm,
and drollery of this remarkable man.
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