

E-text prepared by Earle C. Beach
and revised by Joseph E. Loewenstein, M.D.



Editorial note:

      This volume is the only work of O. Henry which approaches
      being a novel. The stories are related and should be read
      in the sequence in which they occur in the text.


      Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
      file which includes the original illustration.
      See 2777-h.htm or 2777-h.zip:
      (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/7/2777/2777-h/24910-h.htm)
      or
      (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/2/7/7/2777/2777-h.zip)





CABBAGES AND KINGS

by

O. HENRY

Author of "The Four Million," "The Voice of the City,"
"The Trimmed Lamp," "Strictly Business," "Whirligigs," Etc.







[ILLUSTRATION: "A little saint with a color more lightful
than orange" (frontispiece)]




"The time has come," the Walrus said,
   "To talk of many things;
Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax,
   And cabbages and kings."

      THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER





CONTENTS

          THE PROEM: BY THE CARPENTER
       I. "FOX-IN-THE-MORNING"
      II. THE LOTUS AND THE BOTTLE
     III. SMITH
      IV. CAUGHT
       V. CUPID'S EXILE NUMBER TWO
      VI. THE PHONOGRAPH AND THE GRAFT
     VII. MONEY MAZE
    VIII. THE ADMIRAL
      IX. THE FLAG PARAMOUNT
       X. THE SHAMROCK AND THE PALM
      XI. THE REMNANTS OF THE CODE
     XII. SHOES
    XIII. SHIPS
     XIV. MASTERS OF ARTS
      XV. DICKY
     XVI. ROUGE ET NOIR
    XVII. TWO RECALLS
   XVIII. THE VITAGRAPHOSCOPE




THE PROEM

BY THE CARPENTER


They will tell you in Anchuria, that President Miraflores, of that
volatile republic, died by his own hand in the coast town of Coralio;
that he had reached thus far in flight from the inconveniences of
an imminent revolution; and that one hundred thousand dollars,
government funds, which he carried with him in an American leather
valise as a souvenir of his tempestuous administration, was never
afterward recovered.

For a _real_, a boy will show you his grave. It is back of the town
near a little bridge that spans a mangrove swamp. A plain slab of
wood stands at its head. Some one has burned upon the headstone with
a hot iron this inscription:


    RAMON ANGEL DE LAS CRUZES

          Y MIRAFLORES

   PRESIDENTE DE LA REPUBLICA

           DE ANCHURIA

      QUE SEA SU JUEZ DIOS


It is characteristic of this buoyant people that they pursue no man
beyond the grave. "Let God be his judge!"--Even with the hundred
thousand unfound, though greatly coveted, the hue and cry went no
further than that.

To the stranger or the guest the people of Coralio will relate the
story of the tragic end of their former president; how he strove to
escape from the country with the public funds and also with Dona
Isabel Guilbert, the young American opera singer; and how, being
apprehended by members of the opposing political party in Coralio,
he shot himself through the head rather than give up the funds, and,
in consequence, the Senorita Guilbert. They will relate further
that Dona Isabel, her adventurous bark of fortune shoaled by the
simultaneous loss of her distinguished admirer and the souvenir
hundred thousand, dropped anchor on this stagnant coast, awaiting a
rising tide.

They say, in Coralio, that she found a prompt and prosperous tide
in the form of Frank Goodwin, an American resident of the town, an
investor who had grown wealthy by dealing in the products of the
country--a banana king, a rubber prince, a sarsaparilla, indigo, and
mahogany baron. The Senorita Guilbert, you will be told, married
Senor Goodwin one month after the president's death, thus, in the
very moment when Fortune had ceased to smile, wresting from her a
gift greater than the prize withdrawn.

Of the American, Don Frank Goodwin, and of his wife the natives have
nothing but good to say. Don Frank has lived among them for years,
and has compelled their respect. His lady is easily queen of what
social life the sober coast affords. The wife of the governor of the
district, herself, who was of the proud Castilian family of Monteleon
y Dolorosa de los Santos y Mendez, feels honoured to unfold her
napkin with olive-hued, ringed hands at the table of Senora Goodwin.
Were you to refer (with your northern prejudices) to the vivacious
past of Mrs. Goodwin when her audacious and gleeful abandon in light
opera captured the mature president's fancy, or to her share in that
statesman's downfall and malfeasance, the Latin shrug of the shoulder
would be your only answer and rebuttal. What prejudices there were
in Coralio concerning Senora Goodwin seemed now to be in her favour,
whatever they had been in the past.

It would seem that the story is ended, instead of begun; that the
