A Romance of Billy-Goat Hill

								

saloon sent a glow over that entire region of Billy-goat Hill. Everybody
had something to talk about, and everybody talked, except Chick.
Phineas Flathers appointed himself headquarters for information, and
devoted himself exclusively to arguing about the matter. Myrtella, his
twin sister, who for fifteen years had presided over innumerable cooking
ranges throughout the city, almost lost her new place through her
interest in the affair.
The one subject upon which Myrtella Flathers considered herself a
connoisseur was murder. In sundry third floors back, she had for years
followed the current casualties with burning interest. Realism, romance,
intrigue, adventure, she found them all, in these grim recitals of daily
crime.
Myrtella and Phineas Flathers had been cast into the sea of life at
an early age to sink or swim as they saw fit. Myrtella had survived by
combating the waves, while Phineas adopted the less arduous expedient of
floating.
To him work appeared a wholly artificial and abnormal action,
self-imposed and unnecessary. The stage of life presented so many
opportunities for him to exercise his histrionic ability, that the idea
of settling down to a routine of labor seemed a waste of talent. With
far-reaching discernment he had early perceived that a straight part was
not for him.
In casting about for a field that promised the widest opportunity
for his talent, he discovered the Immanuel Church in the city. Here
philanthropy burned with such zealous enthusiasm that the harvest was
not sufficient for the laborers. Phineas saw his chance and grasped it.
He became a Prodigal Son.
From that time on his sole vocation was attending church. Three times a
week, regardless of the inclemency of the weather, he unwound his long
legs from the chair rungs in the Cant-Pass-It, carefully smoothed his
red hair, and made his way to a front pew in the Immanuel Church.
At intervals, calculated to a nicety, he fell from grace, and was
reclaimed, passing from periods of grave backsliding into periods of
great religious fervor. Meanwhile he followed the Scriptures literally
and took no thought of the morrow. His reliance in Providence and the
Ladies' Aid became, in time, absolute.
Nor did Phineas Flathers' self-respect suffer in the least by this mode
of living. In no sense did he consider himself an incumbent. Did he not
three times a week give a masterly presentation of “our needy poor,”
“our brother-in-misfortune”? Did he not freely offer up his family for
each new church society to cut its wisdom teeth upon? Had Maria, his
wife, not labored wearily through unintelligible tracts, and Chick, his
adopted son, done penance in Sunday School, as often as three Sundays in
succession? Considering all things, Phineas felt that the church got a
great deal for its money.
Myrtella Flathers, following another method, had for fifteen years
fought every obstacle that crossed her path. She had left in her wake