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diff --git a/2506.txt b/2506.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..352a040 --- /dev/null +++ b/2506.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1514 @@ +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*** + + + + + + +Transcribed from the 1883 James R. Osgood and Company edition by David +Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +THE SLEEPING CAR--A FARCE +by William D. Howells + + +I. + + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Do you always take down your back hair, aunty? + +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 _is_ yours; but if it isn't, your head's the +best place for it. Now, as I buy mine of Madame Pierrot-- + +MRS. ROBERTS. Don't you _wish_ she wouldn't advertise it as _human_ +hair? It sounds so pokerish--like human flesh, you know. + +AUNT MARY. Why, she couldn't call it _in_human hair, my dear. + +MRS. ROBERTS (thoughtfully). No--just _hair_. + +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. _Such_ 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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Why, aunty, how funny! How _could_ you suppose a serpent +could get on board a sleeping-car, of all places in the world! + +AUNT MARY. That was the perfect absurdity of it. + +THE PORTER. Berths ready now, ladies. + +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? + +AUNT MARY. Nervous? No. Why? + +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 _know_ 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_ 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, _no_! 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." + +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 _sure_ 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. + +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 _could_ I be away! and why _couldn't_ 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 _is_ 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 _break_ them to each other, don't you know? + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, do you _think_ they are, aunty? Oh, if I could _only_ +believe they were sitting down to a hot supper together now, I should be +_so_ 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, _thank_ +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 _hope_ they're sitting down to a hot supper. + +AN ANGRY VOICE from the next berth but one. I wish people in sleeping- +cars-- + +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. + +[Sensation, and smothered laughter from the other berths.] + +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 +_was_ 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-- + +AUNT MARY (whispering). No, no; I must take that, so that you can be +with the baby below. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, how good you are, Aunt Mary! It's too bad; it is +really. I can't let you. + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, _poor_ aunty, how will you ever manage it? I _must_ +help you up. + +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. + +[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.] + +MRS. ROBERTS. Had he better give you his hand to rest your foot in, +while you spring up as if you were mounting horseback? + +AUNT MARY (with disdain). _Spring_! 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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. I will, aunty dear; but-- + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. No, no, aunty. + +AUNT MARY. Now, porter, are you strong? + +PORTER. I used to be porter at a Saratoga hotel, and carried up de +ladies' trunks dere. + +AUNT MARY. Then you'll do, I think. Now, then, your knee; now your +back. There! And very handsomely done. Thanks. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Are you really in, Aunt Mary? + +AUNT MARY (dryly). Yes. Good-night. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Good-night, aunty. [After a pause of some minutes.] +Aunty! + +AUNT MARY. Well, what? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Do you think it's perfectly safe? + +[She rises in her berth, and looks up over the edge of the upper.] + +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? + +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-- + +AUNT MARY. Why, child, do you think I'm going to break through? I +couldn't. I'm one of the _lightest_ sleepers in the world. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Yes, I know you're a light sleeper; but--but it doesn't +seem quite the same thing, somehow. + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Yes; good-night, Aunty! + +AUNT MARY. Well? + +MRS. ROBERTS. You ought to just see him, how he's lying. He's a perfect +log. _Couldn't_ you just bend over, and peep down at him a moment? + +AUNT MARY. Bend over! It would be the death of me. Good-night. + +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? + +[A shaggy head and bearded face are thrust from the curtains of the next +berth.] + +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. + +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 _are_ speaking. +Did I understand you to say that you were from California? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am. + +MRS. ROBERTS. San Francisco? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am. + +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. + +THE CALIFORNIAN (patiently). Did what, ma'am? + +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. + +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? + +MRS. ROBERTS. I don't know. Do you mean short and stout? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am. + +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 _did_ happen to know him--He's a lawyer. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. It's quite likely I know him; and in the morning, +ma'am-- + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, excuse me. I'm very sorry to have kept you so long +awake with my silly questions. + +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_ 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. + +[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.] + +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? + +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. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. You never mind about my looks. The question is, Do you +want your head rapped up against the side of this car? + +THE UPPER BERTH. With all the frankness of your own Pacific slope, no. + +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! + +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? + +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-- + +[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.] + +THE CALIFORNIAN. For half a cent I _would_ 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. + +MRS. ROBERTS (from her shelter). Oh, please, _please_ 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, _do_ let him be! + +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 _you_ +say a word, or I'll settle with you in the morning. + +[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.] + +A VOICE. Oh, don't just bow. Speak! + +[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.] + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Gentlemen, you're too many for _me_. + +[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.] + + + + +II. + + +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. + +MR. EDWARD ROBERTS. This is the Governor Marcy, isn't it? + +THE PORTER. Yes, sah. + +MR. ROBERTS. Came on from Albany, and not from New York? + +THE PORTER. Yes, sah, it did. + +MR. ROBERTS. Ah! it must be all right. I-- + +THE PORTER. Was your wife expecting you to come on board here? + +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. + +THE PORTER (refusing to have any mercy). Oh! How did you expect to find +her? + +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 _how_ I expected to find +her. + +[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.] + +THE PORTER. Dey's so many ladies on board _I_ couldn't find her. + +MR. ROBERTS. Oh, no, no, of course not. I didn't expect that. + +THE PORTER. Don't like to go routing 'em all up, you know. I wouldn't +be allowed to. + +MR. ROBERTS. I don't ask it; that would be preposterous. + +THE PORTER. What sort of looking lady was she? + +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! + +THE PORTER (thoughtfully looking down the aisle). Dey was three ladies +had children. I didn't notice whether dey was boys or girls, or _what_ +dey was. Didn't have anybody with her? + +MR. ROBERTS. No, no. Only the child. + +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. + +[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.] + +THE CONDUCTOR (entering the car, and stopping before THE PORTER, and +looking at MR. ROBERTS). Gentleman want a berth? + +THE PORTER (grinning). Well, no, sah. He's lookin' for his wife. + +THE CONDUCTOR (with suspicion). Is she aboard this car? + +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! + +THE CONDUCTOR. At Boston. [Sternly.] Then what are you trying to find +her at Worcester in the middle of the night for? + +MR. ROBERTS. Why--I--that is-- + +THE PORTER (taking compassion on MR. ROBERTS'S inability to continue). +Says he wanted to surprise her. + +MR. ROBERTS. Ha--yes, exactly. A little caprice, you know. + +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_ 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. + +MR. ROBERTS. No, no; of course not. I never thought-- + +THE CONDUCTOR. My advice to _you_ 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. + +MR. ROBERTS (unable to resent the patronage of this suggestion). Well, I +don't know but I will. + +THE CONDUCTOR (going out). The porter will make up the berth for you. + +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. + +[He takes the vacant seat.] + +THE PORTER. All right, sah. + +[He goes to the end of the car and returns with a pillow.] + +MR. ROBERTS. Ah--porter! + +THE PORTER. Yes, sah. + +MR. ROBERTS. Of course you didn't notice; but you don't think you _did_ +notice who was in that berth yonder? + +[He indicates a certain berth.] + +THE PORTER. Dat's a gen'leman in dat berth, I think, sah. + +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. + +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. + +MR. ROBERTS. Ah! [After a pause.] Porter! + +THE PORTER. Yes, sah. + +MR. ROBERTS. You wouldn't feel justified in looking? + +THE PORTER. I couldn't, sah; I couldn't, indeed. + +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 _my_ looking if I feel perfectly sure of the bonnet? + +THE PORTER. N-no, sah. + +MR. ROBERTS. All right. + +[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.] + +THE CALIFORNIAN (savagely). What do you want? + +MR. ROBERTS (struggling and breathless). I--I--I want my wife. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Want your wife! Have _I_ got your wife? + +MR. ROBERTS. No--ah--that is--ah, excuse me--I thought you _were_ my +wife. + +THE CALIFORNIAN (getting out of the berth, but at the same time keeping +hold of MR. ROBERTS). Thought I was your _wife_! Do I look like your +wife? You can't play that on me, old man. Porter! conductor! + +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-- + +MRS. ROBERTS (suddenly parting the curtain of her berth, and springing +out into the aisle, with her hair wildly dishevelled). Edward! + +MR. ROBERTS. Oh, Agnes, explain to this gentleman! [Imploringly.] Don't +you know me? + +A VOICE. Make him show you the strawberry mark on his left arm. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Edward! Edward! [THE CALIFORNIAN mechanically looses his +grip, and they fly into each other's embrace.] Where did you come from? + +A VOICE. Centre door, left hand, one back. + +THE CONDUCTOR (returning with his lantern). Hallo! What's the matter +here? + +A VOICE. Train robbers! Throw up your hands! Tell the +express-messenger to bring his safe. + +[The passengers emerge from their berths in various deshabille and +bewilderment.] + +THE CONDUCTOR (to MR. ROBERTS). Have you been making all this row, +waking up my passengers? + +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? + +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've_ got nothing to say except +that I think you'd better all go back to bed again. + +[He goes out, and the passengers disappear one by one, leaving the +ROBERTSES and THE CALIFORNIAN alone.] + +THE CALIFORNIAN (to MR. ROBERTS). Stranger, I'm sorry I got you into +this scrape. + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, yes indeed. [THE CALIFORNIAN parts the curtains of +his berth to re-enter it.] Good-night, sir, and I assure you _we_ shall +do nothing more to disturb you--shall we, Edward? + +MR. ROBERTS. No. And now, dear, I think you'd better go back to your +berth. + +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 _he_ +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 _shall_ 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 _does_ kick so! And I just sprang up +and left him when I heard your voice, without putting anything to keep +him in. I _must_ 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. + +THE CALIFORNIAN (solemnly). I haven't got any baby, ma'am. + +MRS. ROBERTS. No--no--I thought you were my baby. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Perhaps I am, ma'am; I've lost so much sleep I could +cry, anyway. Do I _look_ like your baby? + +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! + +MR. ROBERTS (bustling aimlessly about). Yes, yes; certainly, my dear. +But don't be alarmed; we shall find him. + +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? + +MRS. ROBERTS (flying upon the infant thus exposed). Oh, _baby_, baby, +baby!! I thought I had lost you. Um! um! um! + +[She clasps him in her arms, and covers his face and neck with kisses.] + +THE CALIFORNIAN (as he gets back into his berth, sotto voce). I wish I +_had_ been her baby. + +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. + +A solemn Voice from one of the berths. I envy him. + +[A laugh follows, in which all the passengers join.] + +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! + +MR. ROBERTS (endeavoring to teach his wife by example to lower her voice, +which has risen again). What--what is it, my dear? + +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. + +MR. ROBERTS (mystified). What? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Willis. + +MR. ROBERTS. Who? + +MRS. ROBERTS. This Californian. + +MR. ROBERTS. Oh! + +MRS. ROBERTS. No _stranger_ 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 _course_ it's Willis. + +MR. ROBERTS (doubtfully). Do you think so, my dear? + +MRS. ROBERTS. I _know_ 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. + +MR. ROBERTS. I--I'd rather _not_, my dear. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Why, Edward, what can you mean? + +MR. ROBERTS. He's very violent. Suppose it _shouldn't_ be Willis? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Nonsense! It _is_ 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! + +THE CALIFORNIAN (with plaintive endurance). Well, ma'am? + +MRS. ROBERTS (triumphantly). There! I knew it was you all along. How +could you play such a joke on me? + +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-- + +MRS. ROBERTS. How funny you are! You _know_ you're Willis Campbell, my +only brother. Now _don't_ try to keep it up any longer, Willis. + +[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!"] + +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. + +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-- + +MR. ROBERTS (offering a belated and feeble moral support). Yes. + +MRS. ROBERTS (promptly turning upon him). And _you_ ought to have kept +me from making such a simpleton of myself, Edward. + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Why, yes, certainly; and I will try--oh, I will _try_ 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! + +[They bow themselves away, and return to their seat, while THE +CALIFORNIAN re-enters his berth.] + + + + +III. + + +The train stops at Framingham, and THE PORTER comes in with a passenger +whom he shows to the seat opposite MR. and MRS. ROBERTS. + +THE PORTER. You can sit here, sah. We'll be in in about an hour now. +Hang up your bag for you, sah? + +THE PASSENGER. No, leave it on the seat here. + +[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.] + +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. + +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_ will +speak. + +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 _could_ 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 _should_ 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 _be_ +Willis, he would think we were awfully stiff and cold. But I can't help +it; I _can't_ go attacking every stranger I see, and accusing him of +being my brother. No, no, I can't, and I _won't_, and that's all about +it. [She leans forward and addresses the stranger with sudden +sweetness.] Excuse me, sir, but I _am_ 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 _does_ seem a little queer, and I hope you won't think +me intrusive in speaking to you, because if you _should_ happen, by the +thousandth of a chance, to be the right one, I should be _so_ happy! + +CAMPBELL. The right what, madam? + +MRS. ROBERTS. The right Willis Campbell. + +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? + +MRS. ROBERTS (eagerly). He had a sister and a brother-in-law and a +nephew. + +CAMPBELL. Name of Roberts? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Every one. + +CAMPBELL. Then you're-- + +MRS. ROBERTS (ecstatically). Agnes! + +CAMPBELL. And he's-- + +MRS. ROBERTS. Mr. Roberts! + +CAMPBELL. And the baby's-- + +MRS. ROBERTS. Asleep! + +CAMPBELL. Then _I_ am the right one. + +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.] _How_ in the world did it happen? + +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. + +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. _What_ shall I do? + +CAMPBELL. What California gentleman? + +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. + +CAMPBELL. Did he look like any of us? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Like _us_? 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. + +CAMPBELL. Speaks in a sort of soft, slow grind? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Yes. + +CAMPBELL. Gentle and deferential to ladies? + +MRS. ROBERTS. As pie. + +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. _Which_ is his berth? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Don't ask me, Willis. But if you'd go for baby, you'll be +sure to find him. + +MR. ROBERTS (timidly indicating a berth). I think that's the one. + +CAMPBELL (plunging at it, and pulling the curtains open). You old Tom +Goodall! + +THE CALIFORNIAN (appearing). I ain't any Tom Goodall. My name's Abram +Sawyer. + +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. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. I ain't surprised at it. I'm only surprised I _ain't_ +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. + +CAMPBELL (laughing). Oh, they've found _him_. _I'm_ the long-lost +brother. + +THE CALIFORNIAN (sleepily). Has she found the other one? + +CAMPBELL. Yes; all right, I believe. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Has _he_ found what _he_ wanted? + +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. + +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. + +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 _certain_ of it. What +surprises me is that you shouldn't turn out to be anybody, after all. + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, it is kind of curious. But I couldn't help it. I +did my best. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, don't speak of it. _We_ 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? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am, it would have been funny. But I hope +you've enjoyed it as it is. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, very much, thanks to you. Only I can't seem to get +reconciled to your not being anybody, after all. You _must_ 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? + +CAMPBELL. Look here, Agnes, do you always shout at the top of your voice +in this way when you converse in a sleeping-car? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Was I talking loud again? Well, you can't help it if you +want to make people hear you. + +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. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Why, that's what they've _been_ doing--language, at +least--and I'm only surprised they're not doing it now. + +THE CALIFORNIAN (rising). They'd better not, ma'am. + +[He patrols the car from end to end, and quells some rising murmurs, +halting at the rebellious berths as he passes.] + +MRS. ROBERTS (enraptured by his companionship). Oh, he _must_ 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! + +MR. ROBERTS. Yes, my dear. Only we're not quite there yet. Hadn't we +better call your aunt Mary? + +MRS. ROBERTS. I'd forgotten her. + +CAMPBELL. Is Aunt Mary with you? + +MRS. ROBERTS. To be sure she is. Didn't I tell you? She came on +expressly to meet you. + +CAMPBELL (starting up impetuously). Which berth is she in? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Right over baby. + +CAMPBELL. And which berth is baby in? + +MRS. ROBERTS (distractedly). Why, that's just what I can't _tell_. 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. + +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 _ain't_ the one, I'll begin on that. + +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 _me_! +_I_ can't tell. [To CAMPBELL.] _Isn't_ he amusing? So like all those +Californians that one reads of--so chivalrous and _so_ humorous! + +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? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Aunt Mary. + +AUNT MARY. Go away. Aunt Mary, indeed! + +MRS. ROBERTS (running toward her, followed by CAMPBELL and MR. ROBERTS). +Why, Aunt Mary, it _is_ you! And here's Willis, and here's Edward. + +AUNT MARY. Nonsense! How did they get aboard? + +MRS. ROBERTS. Edward came on at Worcester and Willis at Framingham, to +surprise me. + +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 _this_ be? + +[She indicates THE CALIFORNIAN.] + +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. + +AUNT MARY. Another ridiculous surprise, I suppose. But he shall not +surprise _me_. Young man, isn't your name Sawyer? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Yes, ma'am. + +AUNT MARY. Abram? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. Abram Sawyer. You're right there, ma'am. + +MRS. ROBERTS. Oh! oh! I knew it! I knew that he must be somebody +belonging to us. Oh, thank you, aunty, for thinking-- + +AUNT MARY. Don't be absurd, Agnes. Then you're my-- + +A VOICE from one of the berths. Lost step-son. Found! found at last! + +[THE CALIFORNIAN looks vainly round in an endeavor to identify the +speaker, and then turns again to AUNT MARY.] + +AUNT MARY. Weren't your parents from Bath? + +THE CALIFORNIAN (eagerly). Both of 'em, ma'am--both of 'em. + +THE VOICE. O my prophetic soul, my uncle! + +AUNT MARY. Then you're my old friend Kate Harris's daughter? + +THE CALIFORNIAN. I might be her _son_, ma'am; but _my_ mother's name was +Susan Wakeman. + +AUNT MARY (in sharp disgust). Call the porter, please. + +[She withdraws her head and pulls her curtains together; the rest look +blankly at one another.] + +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. + +THE VOICE. Adopt him. + +CAMPBELL. That's a good idea. We will adopt you. You shall be our +adoptive-- + +THE VOICE. Baby boy. + +ANOTHER VOICE. Wife. + +A THIRD VOICE. Brother. + +A FOURTH VOICE. Early friend. + +A FIFTH VOICE. Kate Harris's daughter. + +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. + +VOICES. "Good for you, Willis!" "We'll all come!" "No ceremony!" +"Small and early!" + +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. + +[They gather up their several wraps and bags, and move with great dignity +toward the door.] + +AUNT MARY (putting out her head). Agnes! If you must forget your aunt, +at least remember your child. + +MRS. ROBERTS (running back in an agony of remorse). Oh, _baby_, did I +forget you? + +CAMPBELL. Oh, _aunty_, did she forget you? [He runs back, and extends +his arms to his aunt.] Let me help you down, Aunt Mary. + +AUNT MARY. Nonsense, Willis. Send the porter. + +CAMPBELL (turning round and confronting THE PORTER). He was here upon +instinct. Shall he fetch a step-ladder? + +AUNT MARY. _He_ 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. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SLEEPING CAR*** + + +******* This file should be named 2506.txt or 2506.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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