Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 164 [03-28-1863]

              rat lives as heretofore in Cahill�s
attic, sleeping on the floor, in a cor-
ner, and having his meals brought
up to him, like a dog.      �I�ve quite for-
got Fluff�s breakfast,� said Cahill
to me, on the occasion of my return.
�Whose?� I asked.        �Fluff�s!� he
said, with his foolish laugh: �we
call him Norman de Fluff, now,
because he is so fluffy in appearance.�
I couldn�t help laughing, too, the thing
was ridiculous.   A dogmatic, conceited,
low-loved, atheistic, radically and
incurably dishonest little whelp is this
Watson, and there�s hardly a pin�s
difference in the moral worthlessness
of himself and Cahill.     The latter
has been employed as �agent� by
Bateman, father of the actress of
that name, even as O�Brien, George
Arnold and F. Wood were.      Cahill�s
duty lay in writing advertisements,
raving about Miss Bateman, acting               
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