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diff --git a/2506-h/2506-h.htm b/2506-h/2506-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7fa0e30 --- /dev/null +++ b/2506-h/2506-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1341 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>The Sleeping Car</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">The Sleeping Car, by William D. Howells</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Sleeping Car, by William D. Howells + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Sleeping Car + A Farce + + +Author: William D. Howells + +Release Date: May 13, 2005 [eBook #2506] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SLEEPING CAR*** +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1883 James R. Osgood and Company edition by +David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<h1>THE SLEEPING CAR—A FARCE<br /> +by William D. Howells</h1> +<h2>I.</h2> +<p>SCENE: One side of a sleeping-car on the Boston and Albany Road. +The curtains are drawn before most of the berths; from the hooks and +rods hang hats, bonnets, bags, bandboxes, umbrellas, and other travelling +gear; on the floor are boots of both sexes, set out for THE PORTER to +black. THE PORTER is making up the beds in the upper and lower +berths adjoining the seats on which a young mother, slender and pretty, +with a baby asleep on the seat beside her, and a stout old lady, sit +confronting each other—MRS. AGNES ROBERTS and her aunt MARY.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Do you always take down your back hair, aunty?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. No, never, child; at least not since I had such +a fright about it once, coming on from New York. It’s all +well enough to take down your back hair if it <i>is</i> yours; but if +it isn’t, your head’s the best place for it. Now, +as I buy mine of Madame Pierrot—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Don’t you <i>wish</i> she wouldn’t +advertise it as <i>human</i> hair? It sounds so pokerish—like +human flesh, you know.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Why, she couldn’t call it <i>in</i>human hair, +my dear.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (thoughtfully). No—just <i>hair</i>.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Then people might think it was for mattresses. +But, as I was saying, I took it off that night, and tucked it safely +away, as I supposed, in my pocket, and I slept sweetly till about midnight, +when I happened to open my eyes, and saw something long and black crawl +off my bed and slip under the berth. <i>Such</i> a shriek as I +gave, my dear! “A snake! a snake! oh, a snake!” And +everybody began talking at once, and some of the gentlemen swearing, +and the porter came running with the poker to kill it; and all the while +it was that ridiculous switch of mine, that had worked out of my pocket. +And glad enough I was to grab it up before anybody saw it, and say I +must have been dreaming.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Why, aunty, how funny! How <i>could</i> +you suppose a serpent could get on board a sleeping-car, of all places +in the world!</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. That was the perfect absurdity of it.</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Berths ready now, ladies.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (to THE PORTER, who walks away to the end of the car, +and sits down near the door). Oh, thank you. Aunty, do you +feel nervous the least bit?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Nervous? No. Why?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Well, I don’t know. I suppose I’ve +been worked up a little about meeting Willis, and wondering how he’ll +look, and all. We can’t <i>know</i> each other, of course. +It doesn’t stand to reason that if he’s been out there for +twelve years, ever since I was a child, though we’ve corresponded +regularly—at least <i>I</i> have—that he could recognize +me; not at the first glance, you know. He’ll have a full +beard; and then I’ve got married, and here’s the baby. +Oh, <i>no</i>! he’ll never guess who it is in the world. +Photographs really amount to nothing in such a case. I wish we +were at home, and it was all over. I wish he had written some +particulars, instead of telegraphing from Ogden, “Be with you +on the 7 A.M., Wednesday.”</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Californians always telegraph, my dear; they never +think of writing. It isn’t expensive enough, and it doesn’t +make your blood run cold enough to get a letter, and so they send you +one of those miserable yellow despatches whenever they can—those +printed in a long string, if possible, so that you’ll be <i>sure</i> +to die before you get to the end of it. I suppose your brother +has fallen into all those ways, and says “reckon” and “ornary” +and “which the same,” just like one of Mr. Bret Harte’s +characters.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. But it isn’t exactly our not knowing each +other, aunty, that’s worrying me; that’s something that +could be got over in time. What is simply driving me distracted +is Willis and Edward meeting there when I’m away from home. +Oh, how <i>could</i> I be away! and why <i>couldn’t</i> Willis +have given us fair warning? I would have hurried from the ends +of the earth to meet him. I don’t believe poor Edward ever +saw a Californian; and he’s so quiet and preoccupied, I’m +sure he’d never get on with Willis. And if Willis is the +least loud, he wouldn’t like Edward. Not that I suppose +he <i>is</i> loud; but I don’t believe he knows anything about +literary men. But you can see, aunty, can’t you, how very +anxious I must be? Don’t you see that I ought to have been +there when Willis and Edward met, so as to—to—well, to <i>break</i> +them to each other, don’t you know?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Oh, you needn’t be troubled about that, Agnes. +I dare say they’ve got on perfectly well together. Very +likely they’re sitting down to the unwholesomest hot supper this +instant that the ingenuity of man could invent.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, do you <i>think</i> they are, aunty? +Oh, if I could <i>only</i> believe they were sitting down to a hot supper +together now, I should be <i>so</i> happy! They’d be sure +to get on if they were. There’s nothing like eating to make +men friendly with each other. Don’t you know, at receptions, +how they never have anything to say to each other till the escalloped +oysters and the chicken salad appear; and then how sweet they are as +soon as they’ve helped the ladies to ice? Oh, thank you, +<i>thank</i> you, aunty, for thinking of the hot supper. It’s +such a relief to my mind! You can understand, can’t you, +aunty dear, how anxious I must have been to have my only brother and +my only—my husband—get on nicely together? My life +would be a wreck, simply a wreck, if they didn’t. And Willis +and I not having seen each other since I was a child makes it all the +worse. I do <i>hope</i> they’re sitting down to a hot supper.</p> +<p>AN ANGRY VOICE from the next berth but one. I wish people in +sleeping-cars—</p> +<p>A VOICE from the berth beyond that. You’re mistaken in +your premises, sir. This is a waking-car. Ladies, go on, +and oblige an eager listener.</p> +<p>[Sensation, and smothered laughter from the other berths.]</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (after a space of terrified silence, in a loud whisper +to her AUNT.) What horrid things! But now we really must +go to bed. It <i>was</i> too bad to keep talking. I’d +no idea my voice was getting so loud. Which berth will you have, +aunty? I’d better take the upper one, because—</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (whispering). No, no; I must take that, so that you +can be with the baby below.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, how good you are, Aunt Mary! It’s +too bad; it is really. I can’t let you.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Well, then, you must; that’s all. You +know how that child tosses and kicks about in the night. You never +can tell where his head’s going to be in the morning, but you’ll +probably find it at the foot of the bed. I couldn’t sleep +an instant, my dear, if I thought that boy was in the upper berth; for +I’d be sure of his tumbling out over you. Here, let me lay +him down. [She lays the baby in the lower berth.] There! +Now get in, Agnes—do, and leave me to my struggle with the attraction +of gravitation.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, <i>poor</i> aunty, how will you ever manage +it? I <i>must</i> help you up.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. No, my dear; don’t be foolish. But you +may go and call the porter, if you like. I dare say he’s +used to it.</p> +<p>[MRS. ROBERTS goes and speak timidly to THE PORTER, who fails at +first to understand, then smiles broadly, accepts a quarter with a duck +of his head, and comes forward to AUNT MARY’S side.]</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Had he better give you his hand to rest your +foot in, while you spring up as if you were mounting horseback?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (with disdain). <i>Spring</i>! My dear, I haven’t +sprung for a quarter of a century. I shall require every fibre +in the man’s body. His hand, indeed! You get in first, +Agnes.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I will, aunty dear; but—</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (sternly). Agnes, do as I say. [MRS. ROBERTS +crouches down on the lower berth.] I don’t choose that any +member of my family shall witness my contortions. Don’t +you look.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. No, no, aunty.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Now, porter, are you strong?</p> +<p>PORTER. I used to be porter at a Saratoga hotel, and carried +up de ladies’ trunks dere.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Then you’ll do, I think. Now, then, +your knee; now your back. There! And very handsomely done. +Thanks.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Are you really in, Aunt Mary?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (dryly). Yes. Good-night.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Good-night, aunty. [After a pause of some +minutes.] Aunty!</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Well, what?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Do you think it’s perfectly safe?</p> +<p>[She rises in her berth, and looks up over the edge of the upper.]</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. I suppose so. It’s a well-managed road. +They’ve got the air-brake, I’ve heard, and the Miller platform, +and all those horrid things. What makes you introduce such unpleasant +subjects?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, I don’t mean accidents. But, +you know, when you turn, it does creak so awfully. I shouldn’t +mind myself; but the baby—</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Why, child, do you think I’m going to break +through? I couldn’t. I’m one of the <i>lightest</i> +sleepers in the world.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Yes, I know you’re a light sleeper; but—but +it doesn’t seem quite the same thing, somehow.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. But it is; it’s quite the same thing, and +you can be perfectly easy in your mind, my dear. I should be quite +as loth to break through as you would to have me. Good-night.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Yes; good-night, Aunty!</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Well?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. You ought to just see him, how he’s lying. +He’s a perfect log. <i>Couldn’t</i> you just bend +over, and peep down at him a moment?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Bend over! It would be the death of me. +Good-night.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Good-night. Did you put the glass into +my bag or yours? I feel so very thirsty, and I want to go and +get some water. I’m sure I don’t know why I should +be thirsty. Are you, Aunt Mary? Ah! here it is. Don’t +disturb yourself, aunty; I’ve found it. It was in my bag, +just where I’d put it myself. But all this trouble about +Willis has made me so fidgety that I don’t know where anything +is. And now I don’t know how to manage about the baby while +I go after the water. He’s sleeping soundly enough now; +but if he should happen to get into one of his rolling moods, he might +tumble out on to the floor. Never mind, aunty, I’ve thought +of something. I’ll just barricade him with these bags and +shawls. Now, old fellow, roll as much as you like. If you +should happen to hear him stir, aunty, won’t you—aunty! +Oh, dear! she’s asleep already; and what shall I do? [While +MRS. ROBERTS continues talking, various notes of protest, profane and +otherwise, make themselves heard from different berths.] I know. +I’ll make a bold dash for the water, and be back in an instant, +baby. Now, don’t you move, you little rogue. [She +runs to the water-tank at the end of the car, and then back to her berth.] +Now, baby, here’s mamma again. Are you all right, mamma’s +own?</p> +<p>[A shaggy head and bearded face are thrust from the curtains of the +next berth.]</p> +<p>THE STRANGER. Look here, ma’am. I don’t want +to be disagreeable about this thing, and I hope you won’t take +any offence; but the fact is, I’m half dead for want of sleep, +and if you’ll only keep quiet now a little while, I’ll promise +not to speak above my breath if ever I find you on a sleeping-car after +you’ve come straight through from San Francisco, day and night, +and not been able to get more than about a quarter of your usual allowance +of rest—I will indeed.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I’m very sorry that I’ve disturbed +you, and I’ll try to be more quiet. I didn’t suppose +I was speaking so loud; but the cars keep up such a rattling that you +never can tell how loud you <i>are</i> speaking. Did I understand +you to say that you were from California?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma’am.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. San Francisco?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma’am.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Thanks. It’s a terribly long journey, +isn’t it? I know quite how to feel for you. I’ve +a brother myself coming on. In fact we expected him before this. +[She scans his face as sharply as the lamp-light will allow, and continues, +after a brief hesitation.] It’s always such a silly question +to ask a person, and I suppose San Francisco is a large place, with +a great many people always coming and going, so that it would be only +one chance in a thousand if you did.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (patiently). Did what, ma’am?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, I was just wondering if it was possible—but +of course it isn’t, and it’s very flat to ask—that +you’d ever happened to meet my brother there. His name is +Willis Campbell.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (with more interest). Campbell? Campbell? +Yes, I know a man of that name. But I disremember his first name. +Little low fellow—pretty chunky?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I don’t know. Do you mean short and +stout?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma’am.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I’m sure I can’t tell. It’s +a great many years since he went out there, and I’ve never seen +him in all that time. I thought if you <i>did</i> happen to know +him—He’s a lawyer.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. It’s quite likely I know him; and in +the morning, ma’am—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, excuse me. I’m very sorry to +have kept you so long awake with my silly questions.</p> +<p>THE MAN IN THE UPPER BERTH. Don’t apologize, madam. +I’m not a Californian myself, but I’m an orphan, and away +from home, and I thank you, on behalf of all our fellow-passengers, +for the mental refreshment that your conversation has afforded us. +<i>I</i> could lie here and listen to it all night; but there are invalids +in some of these berths, and perhaps on their account it will be as +well to defer everything till the morning, as our friend suggests. +Allow me to wish you pleasant dreams, madam.</p> +<p>[THE CALIFORNIAN, while MRS. ROBERTS shrinks back under the curtain +of her berth in dismay, and stammers some inaudible excuse, slowly emerges +full length from his berth.]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Don’t you mind me, ma’am; I’ve +got everything but my boots and coat on. Now, then [standing beside +the berth, and looking in upon the man in the upper tier], you, do you +know that this is a lady you’re talking to?</p> +<p>THE UPPER BERTH. By your voice and your shaggy personal appearance +I shouldn’t have taken you for a lady—no, sir. But +the light is very imperfect; you may be a bearded lady.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. You never mind about my looks. The question +is, Do you want your head rapped up against the side of this car?</p> +<p>THE UPPER BERTH. With all the frankness of your own Pacific +slope, no.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (hastily reappearing). Oh, no, no, don’t +hurt him. He’s not to blame. I was wrong to keep on +talking. Oh, please don’t hurt him!</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (to THE UPPER BERTH). You hear? Well, +now, don’t you speak another word to that lady tonight. +Just go on, ma’am, and free your mind on any little matter you +like. I don’t want any sleep. How long has your brother +been in California?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, don’t let’s talk about it now; +I don’t want to talk about it. I thought—I thought—Good-night. +Oh, dear! I didn’t suppose I was making so much trouble. +I didn’t mean to disturb anybody. I—</p> +<p>[MRS. ROBERTS gives way to the excess of her confusion and mortification +in a little sob, and then hides her grief behind the curtains of her +berth. THE CALIFORNIAN slowly emerges again from his couch, and +stands beside it, looking in upon the man in the berth above.]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. For half a cent I <i>would</i> rap your head +up against that wall. Making the lady cry, and getting me so mad +I can’t sleep! Now see here, you just apologize. You +beg that lady’s pardon, or I’ll have you out of there before +you know yourself. [Cries of “Good!” “That’s +right!” and “Make him show himself!” hail MRS. ROBERTS’S +champion, and heads, more or less dishevelled, are thrust from every +berth. MRS. ROBERTS remains invisible and silent, and the loud +and somewhat complicated respiration of her AUNT makes itself heard +in the general hush of expectancy. A remark to the effect that +“The old lady seems to enjoy her rest” achieves a facile +applause. THE CALIFORNIAN again addresses the culprit.] +Come, now, what do you say? I’ll give you just one-half +a minute.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (from her shelter). Oh, please, <i>please</i> +don’t make him say anything. It was very trying in me to +keep him awake, and I know he didn’t mean any offence. Oh, +<i>do</i> let him be!</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. You hear that? You stay quiet the rest +of the time; and if that lady choses to keep us all awake the whole +night, don’t <i>you</i> say a word, or I’ll settle with +you in the morning.</p> +<p>[Loud and continued applause, amidst which THE CALIFORNIAN turns +from the man in the berth before him, and restores order by marching +along the aisle of the car in his stocking feet. The heads vanish +behind the curtains. As the laughter subsides, he returns to his +berth, and after a stare up and down the tranquillized car, he is about +to retire.]</p> +<p>A VOICE. Oh, don’t just bow. Speak!</p> +<p>[A fresh burst of laughter greets this sally. THE CALIFORNIAN +erects himself again with an air of baited wrath, and then suddenly +breaks into a helpless laugh.]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Gentlemen, you’re too many for <i>me</i>.</p> +<p>[He gets into his berth, and after cries of “Good for California!” +“You’re all right, William Nye!” and “You’re +several ahead yet!” the occupants of the different berths gradually +relapse into silence, and at last, as the car lunges onward through +the darkness, nothing is heard but the rhythmical clank of the machinery, +with now and then a burst of audible slumber from MRS. ROBERTS’S +aunt MARY.]</p> +<h2>II.</h2> +<p>At Worcester, where the train has made the usual stop, THE PORTER, +with his lantern on his arm, enters the car, preceding a gentleman somewhat +anxiously smiling; his nervous speech contrasts painfully with the business-like +impassiveness of THE PORTER, who refuses, with an air of incredulity, +to enter into the confidences which the gentleman seems reluctant to +bestow.</p> +<p>MR. EDWARD ROBERTS. This is the Governor Marcy, isn’t +it?</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Yes, sah.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Came on from Albany, and not from New York?</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Yes, sah, it did.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Ah! it must be all right. I—</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Was your wife expecting you to come on board here?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Well, no, not exactly. She was expecting +me to meet her at Boston. But I—[struggling to give the +situation dignity, but failing, and throwing himself, with self-convicted +silliness, upon THE PORTER’S mercy.] The fact is, I thought +I would surprise her by joining her here.</p> +<p>THE PORTER (refusing to have any mercy). Oh! How did +you expect to find her?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Well—well—I don’t know. +I didn’t consider. [He looks down the aisle in despair at +the close-drawn curtains of the berths, and up at the dangling hats +and bags and bonnets, and down at the chaos of boots of both sexes on +the floor.] I don’t know <i>how</i> I expected to find her.</p> +<p>[MR. ROBERTS’S countenance falls, and he visibly sinks so low +in his own esteem and an imaginary public opinion that THE PORTER begins +to have a little compassion.]</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Dey’s so many ladies on board <i>I</i> couldn’t +find her.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Oh, no, no, of course not. I didn’t +expect that.</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Don’t like to go routing ’em all up, +you know. I wouldn’t be allowed to.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. I don’t ask it; that would be preposterous.</p> +<p>THE PORTER. What sort of looking lady was she?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Well, I don’t know, really. Not very +tall, rather slight, blue eyes. I—I don’t know what +you’d call her nose. And—stop! Oh yes, she had +a child with her, a little boy. Yes!</p> +<p>THE PORTER (thoughtfully looking down the aisle). Dey was three +ladies had children. I didn’t notice whether dey was boys +or girls, or <i>what</i> dey was. Didn’t have anybody with +her?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. No, no. Only the child.</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Well, I don’t know what you are going to +do, sah. It won’t be a great while now till morning, you +know. Here comes the conductor. Maybe he’ll know what +to do.</p> +<p>[MR. ROBERTS makes some futile, inarticulate attempts to prevent +The PORTER from laying the case before THE CONDUCTOR, and then stands +guiltily smiling, overwhelmed with the hopeless absurdity of his position.]</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR (entering the car, and stopping before THE PORTER, +and looking at MR. ROBERTS). Gentleman want a berth?</p> +<p>THE PORTER (grinning). Well, no, sah. He’s lookin’ +for his wife.</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR (with suspicion). Is she aboard this car?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (striving to propitiate THE CONDUCTOR by a dastardly +amiability). Oh, yes, yes. There’s no mistake about +the car—the Governor Marcy. She telegraphed the name just +before you left Albany, so that I could find her at Boston in the morning. +Ah!</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR. At Boston. [Sternly.] Then what +are you trying to find her at Worcester in the middle of the night for?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Why—I—that is—</p> +<p>THE PORTER (taking compassion on MR. ROBERTS’S inability to +continue). Says he wanted to surprise her.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Ha—yes, exactly. A little caprice, +you know.</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR. Well, that may all be so. [MR. ROBERTS +continues to smile in agonized helplessness against THE CONDUCTOR’S +injurious tone, which becomes more and more offensively patronizing.] +But <i>I</i> can’t do anything for you. Here are all these +people asleep in their berths, and I can’t go round waking them +up because you want to surprise your wife.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. No, no; of course not. I never thought—</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR. My advice to <i>you</i> is to have a berth made +up, and go to bed till we get to Boston, and surprise your wife by telling +her what you tried to do.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (unable to resent the patronage of this suggestion). +Well, I don’t know but I will.</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR (going out). The porter will make up the berth +for you.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (to THE PORTER, who is about to pull down the upper berth +over a vacant seat). Ah! Er—I—I don’t +think I’ll trouble you to make it up; it’s so near morning +now. Just bring me a pillow, and I’ll try to get a nap without +lying down.</p> +<p>[He takes the vacant seat.]</p> +<p>THE PORTER. All right, sah.</p> +<p>[He goes to the end of the car and returns with a pillow.]</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Ah—porter!</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Yes, sah.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Of course you didn’t notice; but you don’t +think you <i>did</i> notice who was in that berth yonder?</p> +<p>[He indicates a certain berth.]</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Dat’s a gen’leman in dat berth, I think, +sah.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (astutely). There’s a bonnet hanging from +the hook at the top. I’m not sure, but it looks like my +wife’s bonnet.</p> +<p>THE PORTER (evidently shaken by this reasoning, but recovering his +firmness). Yes, sah. But you can’t depend upon de +ladies to hang deir bonnets on de right hook. Jes’ likely +as not dat lady’s took de hook at de foot of her berth instead +o’ de head. Sometimes dey takes both.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Ah! [After a pause.] Porter!</p> +<p>THE PORTER. Yes, sah.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. You wouldn’t feel justified in looking?</p> +<p>THE PORTER. I couldn’t, sah; I couldn’t, indeed.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (reaching his left hand toward THE PORTER’S, and +pressing a half dollar into his instantly responsive palm). But +there’s nothing to prevent <i>my</i> looking if I feel perfectly +sure of the bonnet?</p> +<p>THE PORTER. N-no, sah.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. All right.</p> +<p>[THE PORTER retires to the end of the car, and resumes the work of +polishing the passengers’ boots. After an interval of quiet, +MR. ROBERTS rises, and, looking about him with what he feels to be melodramatic +stealth, approaches the suspected berth. He unloops the curtain +with a trembling hand, and peers ineffectually in; he advances his head +further and further into the darkened recess, and then suddenly dodges +back again, with THE CALIFORNIAN hanging to his neckcloth with one hand.]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (savagely). What do you want?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (struggling and breathless). I—I—I +want my wife.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Want your wife! Have <i>I</i> got your +wife?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. No—ah—that is—ah, excuse me—I +thought you <i>were</i> my wife.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (getting out of the berth, but at the same time keeping +hold of MR. ROBERTS). Thought I was your <i>wife</i>! Do +I look like your wife? You can’t play that on me, old man. +Porter! conductor!</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (agonized). Oh, I beseech you, my dear sir, don’t—don’t! +I can explain it—I can indeed. I know it has an ugly look; +but if you will allow me two words—only two words—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (suddenly parting the curtain of her berth, and springing +out into the aisle, with her hair wildly dishevelled). Edward!</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Oh, Agnes, explain to this gentleman! [Imploringly.] +Don’t you know me?</p> +<p>A VOICE. Make him show you the strawberry mark on his left +arm.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Edward! Edward! [THE CALIFORNIAN +mechanically looses his grip, and they fly into each other’s embrace.] +Where did you come from?</p> +<p>A VOICE. Centre door, left hand, one back.</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR (returning with his lantern). Hallo! What’s +the matter here?</p> +<p>A VOICE. Train robbers! Throw up your hands! Tell +the express-messenger to bring his safe.</p> +<p>[The passengers emerge from their berths in various deshabille and +bewilderment.]</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR (to MR. ROBERTS). Have you been making all this +row, waking up my passengers?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. No, sir, he hasn’t. I’ve +been making this row. This gentleman was peaceably looking for +his wife, and I misunderstood him. You want to say anything to +me?</p> +<p>THE CONDUCTOR (silently taking THE CALIFORNIAN’S measure with +his eye, as he stands six fret in his stockings). If I did, I’d +get the biggest brakeman I could find to do it for me. <i>I’ve</i> +got nothing to say except that I think you’d better all go back +to bed again.</p> +<p>[He goes out, and the passengers disappear one by one, leaving the +ROBERTSES and THE CALIFORNIAN alone.]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (to MR. ROBERTS). Stranger, I’m sorry +I got you into this scrape.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Oh, don’t speak of it, my dear sir. +I’m sure we owe you all sorts of apologies, which I shall be most +happy to offer you at my house in Boston, with every needful explanation. +[He takes out his card, and gives it to THE CALIFORNIAN, who looks at +it, and then looks at MR. ROBERTS curiously.] There’s my +address, and I’m sure we shall both be glad to have you call.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, yes indeed. [THE CALIFORNIAN parts +the curtains of his berth to re-enter it.] Good-night, sir, and +I assure you <i>we</i> shall do nothing more to disturb you—shall +we, Edward?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. No. And now, dear, I think you’d better +go back to your berth.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I couldn’t sleep, and I shall not go back. +Is this your place? I will just rest my head on your shoulder; +and we must both be perfectly quiet. You’ve no idea what +a nuisance I have been making of myself. The whole car was perfectly +furious at me one time, I kept talking so loud. I don’t +know how I came to do it, but I suppose it was thinking about you and +Willis meeting without knowing each other made me nervous, and I couldn’t +be still. I woke everybody up with my talking, and some of them +were quite outrageous in their remarks; but I didn’t blame them +the least bit, for I should have been just as bad. That California +gentleman was perfectly splendid, though. I can tell you <i>he</i> +made them stop. We struck up quite a friendship. I told +him I had a brother coming on from California, and he’s going +to try to think whether he knows Willis. [Groans and inarticulate +protests make themselves heard from different berths.] I declare, +I’ve got to talking again! There, now, I <i>shall</i> stop, +and they won’t hear another squeak from me the rest of the night. +[She lifts her head from her husband’s shoulder.] +I wonder if baby will roll out. He <i>does</i> kick so! +And I just sprang up and left him when I heard your voice, without putting +anything to keep him in. I <i>must</i> go and have a look at him, +or I never can settle down. No, no, don’t you go, Edward; +you’ll be prying into all the wrong berths in the car, you poor +thing! You stay here, and I’ll be back in half a second. +I wonder which is my berth. Ah! that’s it; I know the one +now. [She makes a sudden dash at a berth, and pulling open the +curtains is confronted by the bearded visage of THE CALIFORNIAN.] +Ah! Ow! ow! Edward! Ah! I—I beg your pardon, +sir; excuse me; I didn’t know it was you. I came for my +baby.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (solemnly). I haven’t got any baby, ma’am.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. No—no—I thought you were my baby.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Perhaps I am, ma’am; I’ve lost +so much sleep I could cry, anyway. Do I <i>look</i> like your +baby?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. No, no, you don’t. [In distress that +overcomes her mortification.] Oh, where is my baby? I left +him all uncovered, and he’ll take his death of cold, even if he +doesn’t roll out. Oh, Edward, Edward, help me to find baby!</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (bustling aimlessly about). Yes, yes; certainly, +my dear. But don’t be alarmed; we shall find him.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (getting out in his stocking feet). We shall +find him, ma’am, if we have to search every berth in this car. +Don’t you take on. That baby’s going to be found if +he’s aboard the train, now, you bet! [He looks about and +then tears open the curtains of a berth at random.] That your +baby, ma’am?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (flying upon the infant thus exposed). Oh, <i>baby</i>, +baby, baby!! I thought I had lost you. Um! um! um!</p> +<p>[She clasps him in her arms, and covers his face and neck with kisses.]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (as he gets back into his berth, sotto voce). +I wish I <i>had</i> been her baby.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (returning with her husband to his seat, and bringing +the baby with her). There! Did you ever see such a sleeper, +Edward? [In her ecstasy she abandons all control of her voice, +and joyfully exclaims.] He has slept all through this excitement, +without a wink.</p> +<p>A solemn Voice from one of the berths. I envy him.</p> +<p>[A laugh follows, in which all the passengers join.]</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (in a hoarse whisper, breaking a little with laughter). +Oh, my goodness! there I went again. But how funny! I assure +you, Edward, that if their remarks had not been about me, I could have +really quite enjoyed some of them. I wish there had been somebody +here to take them down. And I hope I shall see some of the speakers +in the morning before—Edward, I’ve got an idea!</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (endeavoring to teach his wife by example to lower her +voice, which has risen again). What—what is it, my dear?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Why, don’t you see? How perfectly +ridiculous it was of me not to think of it before! though I did think +of it once, and hadn’t the courage to insist upon it. But +of course it is; and it accounts for his being so polite and kind to +me through all, and it’s the only thing that can. Yes, yes, +it must be.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (mystified). What?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Willis.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Who?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. This Californian.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Oh!</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. No <i>stranger</i> could have been so patient +and—and—attentive; and I know that he recognized me from +the first, and he’s just kept it up for a joke, so as to surprise +us and have a good laugh at us when we get to Boston. Of <i>course</i> +it’s Willis.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (doubtfully). Do you think so, my dear?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I <i>know</i> it. Didn’t you notice +how he looked at your card? And I want you to go at once and speak +to him, and turn the tables on him.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. I—I’d rather <i>not</i>, my dear.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Why, Edward, what can you mean?</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. He’s very violent. Suppose it <i>shouldn’t</i> +be Willis?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Nonsense! It <i>is</i> Willis. Come, +let’s both go and just tax him with it. He can’t deny +it, after all he’s done for me. [She pulls her reluctant +husband toward THE CALIFORNIAN’S berth, and they each draw a curtain.] +Willis!</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (with plaintive endurance). Well, ma’am?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (triumphantly). There! I knew it was you +all along. How could you play such a joke on me?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. I didn’t know there’d been any +joke; but I suppose there must have been, if you say so. Who am +I now, ma’am—your husband, or your baby, or your husband’s +wife, or—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. How funny you are! You <i>know</i> you’re +Willis Campbell, my only brother. Now <i>don’t</i> try to +keep it up any longer, Willis.</p> +<p>[Voices from various berths. “Give us a rest, Willis!” +“Joke’s too thin, Willis!” “You’re +played out, Willis!” “Own up, old fellow—own +up!”]</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (issuing from his berth, and walking up and down +the aisle, as before, till quiet is restored). I haven’t +got any sister, and my name ain’t Willis, and it ain’t Campbell. +I’m very sorry, because I’d like to oblige you any way I +could.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (in deep mortification). It’s I who ought +to apologize, and I do most humbly. I don’t know what to +say; but when I got to thinking about it, and how kind you had been +to me, and how sweet you had been under all my—interruptions, +I felt perfectly sure that you couldn’t be a mere stranger, and +then the idea struck me that you must be my brother in disguise; and +I was so certain of it that I couldn’t help just letting you know +that we’d found you out, and—</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (offering a belated and feeble moral support). +Yes.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (promptly turning upon him). And <i>you</i> ought +to have kept me from making such a simpleton of myself, Edward.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (soothingly). Well, ma’am, that ain’t +always so easy. A man may mean well, and yet not be able to carry +out his intentions. But it’s all right. And I reckon +we’d better try to quiet down again, and get what rest we can.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Why, yes, certainly; and I will try—oh, +I will <i>try</i> not to disturb you again. And if there’s +anything we can do in reparation after we reach Boston, we shall be +so glad to do it!</p> +<p>[They bow themselves away, and return to their seat, while THE CALIFORNIAN +re-enters his berth.]</p> +<h2>III.</h2> +<p>The train stops at Framingham, and THE PORTER comes in with a passenger +whom he shows to the seat opposite MR. and MRS. ROBERTS.</p> +<p>THE PORTER. You can sit here, sah. We’ll be in +in about an hour now. Hang up your bag for you, sah?</p> +<p>THE PASSENGER. No, leave it on the seat here.</p> +<p>[THE PORTER goes out, and the ROBERTSES maintain a dejected silence. +The bottom of the bag, thrown carelessly on the seat, is toward the +ROBERTSES, who regard it listlessly.]</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (suddenly clutching her husband’s arm, and hissing +in his ear). See! [She points to the white lettering on +the bag, where the name “Willis Campbell, San Francisco,” +is distinctly legible.] But it can’t be; it must be some +other Campbell. I can’t risk it.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. But there’s the name. It would be +very strange if there were two people from San Francisco of exactly +the same name. <i>I</i> will speak.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (as wildly as one can in whisper). No, no, I can’t +let you. We’ve made ourselves the laughing-stock of the +whole car already with our mistakes, and I can’t go on. +I would rather perish than ask him. You don’t suppose it +<i>could</i> be? No, it couldn’t. There may be twenty +Willis Campbells in San Francisco, and there probably are. Do +you think he looks like me! He has a straight nose; but you can’t +tell anything about the lower part of his face, the beard covers it +so; and I can’t make out the color of his eyes by this light. +But of course it’s all nonsense. Still if it <i>should</i> +be! It would be very stupid of us to ride all the way from Framingham +to Boston with that name staring one in the eyes. I wish he would +turn it away. If it really turned out to <i>be</i> Willis, he +would think we were awfully stiff and cold. But I can’t +help it; I <i>can’t</i> go attacking every stranger I see, and +accusing him of being my brother. No, no, I can’t, and I +<i>won’t</i>, and that’s all about it. [She leans +forward and addresses the stranger with sudden sweetness.] Excuse +me, sir, but I <i>am</i> very much interested by the name on your bag. +Not that I think you are even acquainted with him, and there are probably +a great many of them there; but your coming from the same city and all +<i>does</i> seem a little queer, and I hope you won’t think me +intrusive in speaking to you, because if you <i>should</i> happen, by +the thousandth of a chance, to be the right one, I should be <i>so</i> +happy!</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. The right what, madam?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. The right Willis Campbell.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. I hope I’m not the wrong one; though after +a week’s pull on the railroad it’s pretty hard for a man +to tell which Willis Campbell he is. May I ask if your Willis +Campbell had friends in Boston?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (eagerly). He had a sister and a brother-in-law +and a nephew.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Name of Roberts?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Every one.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Then you’re—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (ecstatically). Agnes!</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. And he’s—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Mr. Roberts!</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. And the baby’s—</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Asleep!</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Then <i>I</i> am the right one.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, Willis! Willis! Willis! +To think of our meeting in this way! [She kisses and embraces +him, while MR. ROBERTS shakes one of his hands which he finds disengaged.] +<i>How</i> in the world did it happen?</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Ah, I found myself a little ahead of time, and I +stopped off with an old friend of mine at Framingham; I didn’t +want to disappoint you when you came to meet this train, or get you +up last night at midnight.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. And I was in Albany, and I’ve been moving +heaven and earth to get home before you arrived; and Edward came aboard +at Worcester to surprise me, and—Oh, you’ve never seen the +baby! I’ll run right and get him this instant, just as he +is, and bring him. Edward, you be explaining to Willis—Oh, +my goodness! [Looking wildly about.] I don’t remember +the berth, and I shall be sure to wake up that poor California gentleman +again. <i>What</i> shall I do?</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. What California gentleman?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, somebody we’ve been stirring up the +whole blessed night. First I took him for baby, and then Edward +took him for me, and then I took him for baby again, and then we both +took him for you.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Did he look like any of us?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Like <i>us</i>? He’s eight feet tall, +if he’s an inch, in his stockings—and he’s always +in them—and he has a long black beard and mustaches, and he’s +very lanky, and stoops over a good deal; but he’s just as lovely +as he can be and live, and he’s been as kind and patient as twenty +Jobs.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Speaks in a sort of soft, slow grind?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Yes.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Gentle and deferential to ladies?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. As pie.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. It’s Tom Goodall. I’ll have him +out of there in half a second. I want you to take him home with +you, Agnes. He’s the best fellow in the world. <i>Which</i> +is his berth?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Don’t ask me, Willis. But if you’d +go for baby, you’ll be sure to find him.</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS (timidly indicating a berth). I think that’s +the one.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (plunging at it, and pulling the curtains open). You +old Tom Goodall!</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (appearing). I ain’t any Tom Goodall. +My name’s Abram Sawyer.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (falling back). Well, sir, you’re right. +I’m awfully sorry to disturb you; but, from my sister’s +description here, I felt certain you must be my old friend Tom Goodall.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. I ain’t surprised at it. I’m +only surprised I <i>ain’t</i> Tom Goodall. I’ve been +a baby twice, and I’ve been a man’s wife once, and once +I’ve been a long-lost brother.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (laughing). Oh, they’ve found <i>him</i>. +<i>I’m</i> the long-lost brother.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (sleepily). Has she found the other one?</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Yes; all right, I believe.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Has <i>he</i> found what <i>he</i> wanted?</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Yes; we’re all together here. [THE CALIFORNIAN +makes a movement to get into bed again.] Oh, don’t! +You’d better make a night of it now. It’s almost morning +anyway. We want you to go home with us, and Mrs. Roberts will +give you a bed at her house, and let you sleep a week.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Well, I reckon you’re right, stranger. +I seem to be in the hands of Providence tonight anyhow. [He pulls +on his boots and coat, and takes his seat beside CAMPBELL.] I +reckon there ain’t any use in fighting against Providence.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (briskly, as if she had often tried it and failed). +Oh, not the least in the world. I’m sure it was all intended; +and if you had turned out to be Willis at last, I should be <i>certain</i> +of it. What surprises me is that you shouldn’t turn out +to be anybody, after all.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, it is kind of curious. But I couldn’t +help it. I did my best.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, don’t speak of it. <i>We</i> +are the ones who ought to apologize. But if you only had been +somebody, it would have been such a good joke! We could always +have had such a laugh over it, don’t you see?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma’am, it would have been funny. +But I hope you’ve enjoyed it as it is.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, very much, thanks to you. Only I can’t +seem to get reconciled to your not being anybody, after all. You +<i>must</i> at least be some one we’ve heard about, don’t +you think? It’s so strange that you and Willis never even +met. Don’t you think you have some acquaintances in common?</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Look here, Agnes, do you always shout at the top +of your voice in this way when you converse in a sleeping-car?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Was I talking loud again? Well, you can’t +help it if you want to make people hear you.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. But there must be a lot of them who don’t want +to hear you. I wonder that the passengers who are not blood-relations +don’t throw things at you—boots and hand-bags and language.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Why, that’s what they’ve <i>been</i> +doing—language, at least—and I’m only surprised they’re +not doing it now.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (rising). They’d better not, ma’am.</p> +<p>[He patrols the car from end to end, and quells some rising murmurs, +halting at the rebellious berths as he passes.]</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (enraptured by his companionship). Oh, he <i>must</i> +be some connection. [She glances through the window.] I +do believe that was Newton, or Newtonville, or West Newton, or Newton +Centre. I must run and wake up baby, and get him dressed. +I shan’t want to wait an instant after we get in. Why, we’re +slowing up! Why, I do believe we’re there! Edward, +we’re there! Only fancy being there already!</p> +<p>MR. ROBERTS. Yes, my dear. Only we’re not quite +there yet. Hadn’t we better call your aunt Mary?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I’d forgotten her.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Is Aunt Mary with you?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. To be sure she is. Didn’t I tell +you? She came on expressly to meet you.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (starting up impetuously). Which berth is she in?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Right over baby.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. And which berth is baby in?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (distractedly). Why, that’s just what I +can’t <i>tell</i>. It was bad enough when they were all +filled up, but now since the people have begun to come out of them, +and some of them are made into seats I can’t tell.</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. I’ll look for you, ma’am. +I should like to wake up all the wrong passengers on this car. +I’d take a pleasure in it. If you could make sure of any +berth that <i>ain’t</i> the one, I’ll begin on that.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. I can’t even be sure of the wrong one. +No, no; you mustn’t—[THE CALIFORNIAN moves away, and pauses +in front of one of the berths, looking back inquiringly at MRS. ROBERTS.] +Oh, don’t ask <i>me</i>! <i>I</i> can’t tell. +[To CAMPBELL.] <i>Isn’t</i> he amusing? So like all +those Californians that one reads of—so chivalrous and <i>so</i> +humorous!</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (thrusting her head from the curtains of the berth before +which THE CALIFORNIAN is standing). Go along with you! What +do you want?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Aunt Mary.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Go away. Aunt Mary, indeed!</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (running toward her, followed by CAMPBELL and MR. ROBERTS). +Why, Aunt Mary, it <i>is</i> you! And here’s Willis, and +here’s Edward.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Nonsense! How did they get aboard?</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Edward came on at Worcester and Willis at Framingham, +to surprise me.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. And a very silly performance. Let them wait +till I’m dressed, and then I’ll talk to them. Send +for the porter. [She withdraws her head behind the curtain, and +then thrusts it out again.] And who, pray, may <i>this</i> be?</p> +<p>[She indicates THE CALIFORNIAN.]</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, a friend of ours from California, who’s +been so kind to us all night, and who’s going home with us.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Another ridiculous surprise, I suppose. But +he shall not surprise <i>me</i>. Young man, isn’t your name +Sawyer?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma’am.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Abram?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. Abram Sawyer. You’re right there, +ma’am.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS. Oh! oh! I knew it! I knew that he +must be somebody belonging to us. Oh, thank you, aunty, for thinking—</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Don’t be absurd, Agnes. Then you’re +my—</p> +<p>A VOICE from one of the berths. Lost step-son. Found! +found at last!</p> +<p>[THE CALIFORNIAN looks vainly round in an endeavor to identify the +speaker, and then turns again to AUNT MARY.]</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Weren’t your parents from Bath?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN (eagerly). Both of ’em, ma’am—both +of ’em.</p> +<p>THE VOICE. O my prophetic soul, my uncle!</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Then you’re my old friend Kate Harris’s +daughter?</p> +<p>THE CALIFORNIAN. I might be her <i>son</i>, ma’am; but +<i>my</i> mother’s name was Susan Wakeman.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (in sharp disgust). Call the porter, please.</p> +<p>[She withdraws her head and pulls her curtains together; the rest +look blankly at one another.]</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Another failure, and just when we thought we were +sure of you. I don’t know what we shall do about you, Mr. +Sawyer.</p> +<p>THE VOICE. Adopt him.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. That’s a good idea. We will adopt you. +You shall be our adoptive—</p> +<p>THE VOICE. Baby boy.</p> +<p>ANOTHER VOICE. Wife.</p> +<p>A THIRD VOICE. Brother.</p> +<p>A FOURTH VOICE. Early friend.</p> +<p>A FIFTH VOICE. Kate Harris’s daughter.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (laying his hand on THE CALIFORNIAN’S shoulder, and +breaking into a laugh). Don’t mind them. They don’t +mean anything. It’s just their way. You come home +with my sister, and spend Christmas, and let us devote the rest of our +lives to making your declining years happy.</p> +<p>VOICES. “Good for you, Willis!” “We’ll +all come!” “No ceremony!” “Small +and early!”</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (looking round). We appear to have fallen in with +a party of dry-goods drummers. It makes a gentleman feel like +an intruder. [The train stops; he looks out of the window.] +We’ve arrived. Come, Agnes; come, Roberts; come, Mr. Sawyer—let’s +be going.</p> +<p>[They gather up their several wraps and bags, and move with great +dignity toward the door.]</p> +<p>AUNT MARY (putting out her head). Agnes! If you must +forget your aunt, at least remember your child.</p> +<p>MRS. ROBERTS (running back in an agony of remorse). Oh, <i>baby</i>, +did I forget you?</p> +<p>CAMPBELL. Oh, <i>aunty</i>, did she forget you? [He runs +back, and extends his arms to his aunt.] Let me help you down, +Aunt Mary.</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. Nonsense, Willis. Send the porter.</p> +<p>CAMPBELL (turning round and confronting THE PORTER). He was +here upon instinct. Shall he fetch a step-ladder?</p> +<p>AUNT MARY. <i>He</i> will know what to do. Go away, Willis; +go away with that child, Agnes. If I should happen to fall on +you—[They retreat; the curtain drops, and her voice is heard behind +it addressing THE PORTER.] Give me your hand; now your back; now +your knee. So! And very well done. Thanks.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SLEEPING CAR***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 2506-h.htm or 2506-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/0/2506 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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