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diff --git a/old/slpcr10.txt b/old/slpcr10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a099c3c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/slpcr10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1437 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Sleeping-Car by William D. Howells +#6 in our series by William Dean Howells + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + + +The Sleeping-Car - A Farce + +by William D. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + +THE SLEEPING-CAR--A FARCE + + + + +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 INhuman 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 to-night 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 eText The Sleeping-Car diff --git a/old/slpcr10.zip b/old/slpcr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c57ee4 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/slpcr10.zip |