the easy grace of a prince, he settled down to doing without one with
equal grace and nonchalance, in a manner more creditable to himself
than satisfying to his creditors. Did his hatter or tailor present an
untimely bill, the gay debonnaire Eugene would scribble on the back
thereof an impromptu rhyme expressive of his deep regret at not being
able to offer the cash instead, and return the same with an airy grace
that the renowned orator, J. Wilkins Micawber, himself might have
envied.

While the intellectual prominences upon the cranium of our friend and
fellow-citizen had been well looked to, Dame Nature totally neglected
to develop his bump of veneration; age possessed no qualities, wealth
and position no prerogatives, which this singularly constituted young
man felt bound to respect. When his father's executor, an able and
exceedingly dignified member of the St. Louis bar, would refuse to
respond to his frequent demands for moneyed advances, the young
reprobate would coolly elevate his heels to a point in dangerous
proximity to the old gentleman's nose, and threaten to go upon the
stage, taking his guardian's honored name as a stage pseudonym and
representing himself to be his son. This threat generally sufficed to
bring the elder gentleman to terms, as he knew his charge's ability to
execute as well as to threaten.

He was an inveterate joker, and his tendency to break out without
regard to fitness of time or place into some mad prank made him almost
a terror to his friends. On one occasion he informed a young lady
friend that he did not think he would be able to come to her wedding
because he had such a terrible toothache. "Then why not have your
tooth pulled out?" said the young lady. "I never thought of that,"
quoth Eugene gravely; "I guess I will." When the wedding day arrived,
among the other bridal gifts came a small box bearing Mr. Field's
card, and reposing on a velvet cushion inside was the identical tooth
which the bride had advised him to have extracted, and in the cavity
where had once throbbed the agonizing nerve was neatly stuffed a
fifty-dollar bill.

The recollection of the many amusing traits and freaks of this
versatile genius affords amusement to the innumerable friends of his
to this day. But time which sobers us all has doubtless taken some of
the foam and sparkle from this rare spirit, although it would be hard
to convince his friends that he will ever be anything but the gay and
debonnair