CHAPTER XVII.
HE ENJOYS HIMSELF AT A BALL.
Once more I was settled quietly down to my old life, clerking in my father's store.

You would naturally suppose that my travels would have given me some confidence, and that I had worn out, as it were, the bashfulness of youth; but in my case this was an inborn quality which I could no more get rid of, than I could of my liver or my spleen.
I had never confessed to any one the episode of the giant-powder or the Chicago widow; but the story of the baby had crept out, through the conductor, who told it to the station-master.

If you want to know how _that_ ended, I'll just tell you that, maddened by the grins and giggles of the passengers, I started for the car door with that baby, but, in passing those three giggling young ladies, I suddenly slung the infant into their collective laps, and darted out upon the station platform.

That's the way I got out of that scrape.
As I was saying, after all those dreadful experiences, I was glad to settle down in the store, where I honestly strove to overcome my weakness; but it was still so troublesome that father always interfered when the girls came in to purchase dry-goods.

He said I almost destroyed the profits of the business, giving extra measure on ribbons and silks, and getting confused over the calicoes.