Buffum’s Bustless Buffers”

"Buffum’s Bustless Buffers" by Charles Battell Loomis is a whimsical and satirical novel that explores the quirks of human behavior and societal norms through humorous storytelling. Set in a fictional town, the narrative follows the eccentric protagonist, Buffum, as he navigates various misadventures and absurd situations that highlight the peculiarities of life. Loomis's clever wit and playful prose invite readers to reflect on the absurdities of conformity and personal identity, making for an entertaining and thought-provoking read.

• Short story

								
I was looking at a rather startling picture in the morning paper
of a man who had fallen from a seventh-story window and had been
instantly killed. The man in the seat next to me--we were on the
elevated--said: “I’ll do away with all those accidents soon.”

I turned and looked at him. He was a lean-faced, hollow-eyed man,
full of nervous starts, and quick of speech.

“What do you mean?” asked I, somewhat puzzled.

“Oh, nothing; oh, nothing at all,” he replied, as if sorry he had
spoken. “I do not wish to be laughed at. I am no Keely motor man to
be laughed at. I spoke without thought.”

I fancied there was a story in him, and so I drew him out, and he
said in short, quick sentences, but in so low a tone that I had to
strain my ears to hear him:

“I am Burgess Buffum, the inventor of Buffum’s Bustless Buffers.”

He paused with rhetorical effect, and nodded and blinked his eyes;
and I, duly impressed, asked him what the buffers were supposed to
buff.

“Children at open windows. Painters on scaffolds. Panic-stricken
flyers from fires. Mountain-climbers. In fact, all persons whose
business or duty or pleasure carries them to unsafe heights. My
buffers are filled with air, and you can’t bust ’em. Child can fill
’em. Foot-pump, puff, puff, puff, and there you are. They are made of
rubber and weigh next to nothing. Painter at work on scaffold; hears
rope breaking; seizes one of my patent buffers; holds it carelessly
in his right hand until within five feet of the pavement; then
catches it with both hands, holds it in front of him as a shield,
and falls with it under him. Merely pleasant titillation. Up at once;
mends rope; resumes painting; undertaker foiled; no funeral; money
saved; put in bank, or invested in stock in my company--”

“But,” said I, interrupting him, “suppose the buffer isn’t handy?”

“Ah, that’s his lookout. It must be handy. No business to take
chances when safeguard is on scaffolding with him. Or child playing
on fire-escape; careful mother puts two of my buffers out there;
warns child not to fall without one; goes about her work care-free;
child feels that it is about to fall; clutches buffer; goes down like
painter; pleasant ride; child enjoys it; perfect confidence in my
buffer; holds it under him; arrives seated; no deleterious effect;
continues play in street. Object-lesson in favor of my invention.
Child takes orders for my buffers; gets commission from me. Sells
dozens--”

Just then the guard called out, “Forty-second Street!” and a man whom
I had not noticed before, but who wore an air of authority, and who
sat next to Buffum, rose and, touching him on the arm, said, “Come.”

And before I could get the inventor’s address he had left the train.

But I fancy that

  BURGESS BUFFUM, ESQ.,
                Bloomingdale,

will reach him.
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