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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: Men, Women, and Boats + +Author: Stephen Crane + +Editor: Vincent Starrett + +Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7239] +First Posted: March 30, 2003 +Last Updated: June 2, 2019 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEN, WOMEN, AND BOATS *** + + + + +Etext Produced by John Bilderback, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + MEN, WOMEN, AND BOATS + </h1> + <h2> + By Stephen Crane + </h2> + <h3> + Edited With an Introduction by Vincent Starrett + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> NOTE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> STEPHEN CRANE: <i>AN ESTIMATE</i> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE OPEN BOAT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE RELUCTANT VOYAGERS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER + I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER + II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER + III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER + IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER + V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER + VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE END OF THE BATTLE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> UPTURNED FACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> AN EPISODE OF WAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> AN EXPERIMENT IN MISERY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE DUEL THAT WAS NOT FOUGHT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> A DESERTION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> A DARK-BROWN DOG </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THE PACE OF YOUTH </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> A TENT IN AGONY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> FOUR MEN IN A CAVE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> THE MESMERIC MOUNTAIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> THE SNAKE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> LONDON IMPRESSIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER + I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER + II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER + III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER + IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER + V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER + VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER + VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER + VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> THE SCOTCH EXPRESS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + NOTE + </h2> + <p> + A Number of the tales and sketches here brought together appear now for + the first time between covers; others for the first time between covers in + this country. All have been gathered from out-of-print volumes and old + magazine files. + </p> + <p> + "The Open Boat," one of Stephen Crane's finest stories, is used with the + courteous permission of Doubleday, Page & Co., holders of the + copyright. Its companion masterpiece, "The Blue Hotel," because of + copyright complications, has had to be omitted, greatly to the regret of + the editor. + </p> + <p> + After the death of Stephen Crane, a haphazard and undiscriminating + gathering of his earlier tales and sketches appeared in London under the + misleading title, "Last Words." From this volume, now rarely met with, a + number of characteristic minor works have been selected, and these will be + new to Crane's American admirers; as follows: "The Reluctant Voyagers," + "The End of the Battle," "The Upturned Face," "An Episode of War," "A + Desertion," "Four Men in a Cave," "The Mesmeric Mountain," "London + Impressions," "The Snake." + </p> + <p> + Three of our present collection, printed by arrangement, appeared in the + London (1898) edition of "The Open Boat and Other Stories," published by + William Heinemann, but did not occur in the American volume of that title. + They are "An Experiment in Misery," "The Duel that was not Fought," and + "The Pace of Youth." + </p> + <p> + For the rest, "A Dark Brown Dog," "A Tent in Agony," and "The Scotch + Express," are here printed for the first time in a book. + </p> + <p> + For the general title of the present collection, the editor alone is + responsible. + </p> + <h3> + V. S. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + STEPHEN CRANE: <i>AN ESTIMATE</i> + </h2> + <p> + It hardly profits us to conjecture what Stephen Crane might have written + about the World War had he lived. Certainly, he would have been in it, in + one capacity or another. No man had a greater talent for war and personal + adventure, nor a finer art in describing it. Few writers of recent times + could so well describe the poetry of motion as manifested in the surge and + flow of battle, or so well depict the isolated deed of heroism in its + stark simplicity and terror. + </p> + <p> + To such an undertaking as Henri Barbusse's "Under Fire," that powerful, + brutal book, Crane would have brought an analytical genius almost + clairvoyant. He possessed an uncanny vision; a descriptive ability + photographic in its clarity and its care for minutiae—yet + unphotographic in that the big central thing often is omitted, to be felt + rather than seen in the occult suggestion of detail. Crane would have seen + and depicted the grisly horror of it all, as did Barbusse, but also he + would have seen the glory and the ecstasy and the wonder of it, and over + that his poetry would have been spread. + </p> + <p> + While Stephen Crane was an excellent psychologist, he was also a true + poet. Frequently his prose was finer poetry than his deliberate essays in + poesy. His most famous book, "The Red Badge of Courage," is essentially a + psychological study, a delicate clinical dissection of the soul of a + recruit, but it is also a <i>tour de force</i> of the imagination. When he + wrote the book he had never seen a battle: he had to place himself in the + situation of another. Years later, when he came out of the Greco-Turkish + <i>fracas</i>, he remarked to a friend: "'The Red Badge' is all right." + </p> + <p> + Written by a youth who had scarcely passed his majority, this book has + been compared with Tolstoy's "Sebastopol" and Zola's "La Débâcle," and + with some of the short stories of Ambrose Bierce. The comparison with + Bierce's work is legitimate; with the other books, I think, less so. + Tolstoy and Zola see none of the traditional beauty of battle; they apply + themselves to a devoted—almost obscene—study of corpses and + carnage generally; and they lack the American's instinct for the rowdy + commonplace, the natural, the irreverent, which so materially aids his + realism. In "The Red Badge of Courage" invariably the tone is kept down + where one expects a height: the most heroic deeds are accomplished with + studied awkwardness. + </p> + <p> + Crane was an obscure free-lance when he wrote this book. The effort, he + says, somewhere, "was born of pain—despair, almost." It was a better + piece of work, however, for that very reason, as Crane knew. It is far + from flawless. It has been remarked that it bristles with as many + grammatical errors as with bayonets; but it is a big canvas, and I am + certain that many of Crane's deviations from the rules of polite rhetoric + were deliberate experiments, looking to effect—effect which, + frequently, he gained. + </p> + <p> + Stephen Crane "arrived" with this book. There are, of course, many who + never have heard of him, to this day, but there was a time when he was + very much talked of. That was in the middle nineties, following + publication of "The Red Badge of Courage," although even before that he + had occasioned a brief flurry with his weird collection of poems called + "The Black Riders and Other Lines." He was highly praised, and highly + abused and laughed at; but he seemed to be "made." We have largely + forgotten since. It is a way we have. + </p> + <p> + Personally, I prefer his short stories to his novels and his poems; those, + for instance, contained in "The Open Boat," in "Wounds in the Rain," and + in "The Monster." The title-story in that first collection is perhaps his + finest piece of work. Yet what is it? A truthful record of an adventure of + his own in the filibustering days that preceded our war with Spain; the + faithful narrative of the voyage of an open boat, manned by a handful of + shipwrecked men. But Captain Bligh's account of <i>his</i> small boat + journey, after he had been sent adrift by the mutineers of the <i>Bounty</i>, + seems tame in comparison, although of the two the English sailor's voyage + was the more perilous. + </p> + <p> + In "The Open Boat" Crane again gains his effects by keeping down the tone + where another writer might have attempted "fine writing" and have been + lost. In it perhaps is most strikingly evident the poetic cadences of his + prose: its rhythmic, monotonous flow is the flow of the gray water that + laps at the sides of the boat, that rises and recedes in cruel waves, + "like little pointed rocks." It is a desolate picture, and the tale is one + of our greatest short stories. In the other tales that go to make up the + volume are wild, exotic glimpses of Latin-America. I doubt whether the + color and spirit of that region have been better rendered than in Stephen + Crane's curious, distorted, staccato sentences. + </p> + <p> + "War Stories" is the laconic sub-title of "Wounds in the Rain." It was not + war on a grand scale that Crane saw in the Spanish-American complication, + in which he participated as a war correspondent; no such war as the recent + horror. But the occasions for personal heroism were no fewer than always, + and the opportunities for the exercise of such powers of trained and + appreciative understanding and sympathy as Crane possessed, were abundant. + For the most part, these tales are episodic, reports of isolated instances—the + profanely humorous experiences of correspondents, the magnificent courage + of signalmen under fire, the forgotten adventure of a converted yacht—but + all are instinct with the red fever of war, and are backgrounded with the + choking smoke of battle. Never again did Crane attempt the large canvas of + "The Red Badge of Courage." Before he had seen war, he imagined its + immensity and painted it with the fury and fidelity of a Verestchagin; + when he was its familiar, he singled out its minor, crimson passages for + briefer but no less careful delineation. + </p> + <p> + In this book, again, his sense of the poetry of motion is vividly evident. + We see men going into action, wave on wave, or in scattering charges; we + hear the clink of their accoutrements and their breath whistling through + their teeth. They are not men going into action at all, but men going + about their business, which at the moment happens to be the capture of a + trench. They are neither heroes nor cowards. Their faces reflect no + particular emotion save, perhaps, a desire to get somewhere. They are a + line of men running for a train, or following a fire engine, or charging a + trench. It is a relentless picture, ever changing, ever the same. But it + contains poetry, too, in rich, memorable passages. + </p> + <p> + In "The Monster and Other Stories," there is a tale called "The Blue + Hotel". A Swede, its central figure, toward the end manages to get himself + murdered. Crane's description of it is just as casual as that. The story + fills a dozen pages of the book; but the social injustice of the whole + world is hinted in that space; the upside-downness of creation, right + prostrate, wrong triumphant,—a mad, crazy world. The incident of the + murdered Swede is just part of the backwash of it all, but it is an + illuminating fragment. The Swede was slain, not by the gambler whose knife + pierced his thick hide: he was the victim of a condition for which he was + no more to blame than the man who stabbed him. Stephen Crane thus speaks + through the lips of one of the characters:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "We are all in it! This poor gambler isn't even + a noun. He is a kind of an adverb. Every sin is + the result of a collaboration. We, five of us, have + collaborated in the murder of this Swede. Usually + there are from a dozen to forty women really involved + in every murder, but in this case it seems + to be only five men—you, I, Johnnie, Old Scully, + and that fool of an unfortunate gambler came + merely as a culmination, the apex of a human movement, + and gets all the punishment." +</pre> + <p> + And then this typical and arresting piece of irony:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "The corpse of the Swede, alone in the saloon, + had its eyes fixed upon a dreadful legend that + dwelt atop of the cash-machine: 'This registers the + amount of your purchase.'" +</pre> + <p> + In "The Monster," the ignorance, prejudice and cruelty of an entire + community are sharply focussed. The realism is painful; one blushes for + mankind. But while this story really belongs in the volume called + "Whilomville Stories," it is properly left out of that series. The + Whilomville stories are pure comedy, and "The Monster" is a hideous + tragedy. + </p> + <p> + Whilomville is any obscure little village one may happen to think of. To + write of it with such sympathy and understanding, Crane must have done + some remarkable listening in Boyville. The truth is, of course, he was a + boy himself—"a wonderful boy," somebody called him—and was + possessed of the boy mind. These tales are chiefly funny because they are + so true—boy stories written for adults; a child, I suppose, would + find them dull. In none of his tales is his curious understanding of human + moods and emotions better shown. + </p> + <p> + A stupid critic once pointed out that Crane, in his search for striking + effects, had been led into "frequent neglect of the time-hallowed rights + of certain words," and that in his pursuit of color he "falls occasionally + into almost ludicrous mishap." The smug pedantry of the quoted lines is + sufficient answer to the charges, but in support of these assertions the + critic quoted certain passages and phrases. He objected to cheeks + "scarred" by tears, to "dauntless" statues, and to "terror-stricken" + wagons. The very touches of poetic impressionism that largely make for + Crane's greatness, are cited to prove him an ignoramus. There is the + finest of poetic imagery in the suggestions subtly conveyed by Crane's + tricky adjectives, the use of which was as deliberate with him as his + choice of a subject. But Crane was an imagist before our modern imagists + were known. + </p> + <p> + This unconventional use of adjectives is marked in the Whilomville tales. + In one of them Crane refers to the "solemn odor of burning turnips." It is + the most nearly perfect characterization of burning turnips conceivable: + can anyone improve upon that "solemn odor"? + </p> + <p> + Stephen Crane's first venture was "Maggie: A Girl of the Streets." It was, + I believe, the first hint of naturalism in American letters. It was not a + best-seller; it offers no solution of life; it is an episodic bit of slum + fiction, ending with the tragic finality of a Greek drama. It is a + skeleton of a novel rather than a novel, but it is a powerful outline, + written about a life Crane had learned to know as a newspaper reporter in + New York. It is a singularly fine piece of analysis, or a bit of + extraordinarily faithful reporting, as one may prefer; but not a few + French and Russian writers have failed to accomplish in two volumes what + Crane achieved in two hundred pages. In the same category is "George's + Mother," a triumph of inconsequential detail piling up with a cumulative + effect quite overwhelming. + </p> + <p> + Crane published two volumes of poetry—"The Black Riders" and "War is + Kind." Their appearance in print was jeeringly hailed; yet Crane was only + pioneering in the free verse that is today, if not definitely accepted, at + least more than tolerated. I like the following love poem as well as any + rhymed and conventionally metrical ballad that I know:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Should the wide world roll away, + Leaving black terror, + Limitless night, + Nor God, nor man, nor place to stand + Would be to me essential, + If thou and thy white arms were there + And the fall to doom a long way." +</pre> + <p> + "If war be kind," wrote a clever reviewer, when the second volume + appeared, "then Crane's verse may be poetry, Beardsley's black and white + creations may be art, and this may be called a book";—a smart + summing up that is cherished by cataloguers to this day, in describing the + volume for collectors. Beardsley needs no defenders, and it is fairly + certain that the clever reviewer had not read the book, for certainly + Crane had no illusions about the kindness of war. The title-poem of the + volume is an amazingly beautiful satire which answers all criticism. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind. + Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky + And the affrighted steed ran on alone, + Do not weep. + War is kind. + + "Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment, + Little souls who thirst for fight, + These men were born to drill and die. + The unexplained glory flies above them, + Great is the battle-god, and his kingdom— + A field where a thousand corpses lie. + +</pre> + <hr /> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Mother whose heart hung humble as a button + On the bright splendid shroud of your son, + Do not weep. + War is kind." +</pre> + <p> + Poor Stephen Crane! Like most geniuses, he had his weaknesses and his + failings; like many, if not most, geniuses, he was ill. He died of + tuberculosis, tragically young. But what a comrade he must have been, with + his extraordinary vision, his keen, sardonic comment, his fearlessness and + his failings! + </p> + <p> + Just a glimpse of Crane's last days is afforded by a letter written from + England by Robert Barr, his friend—Robert Barr, who collaborated + with Crane in "The 0' Ruddy," a rollicking tale of old Ireland, or, + rather, who completed it at Crane's death, to satisfy his friend's earnest + request. The letter is dated from Hillhead, Woldingham, Surrey, June 8, + 1900, and runs as follows:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "My Dear —— + + "I was delighted to hear from you, and was much + interested to see the article on Stephen Crane you + sent me. It seems to me the harsh judgment of an + unappreciative, commonplace person on a man of + genius. Stephen had many qualities which lent + themselves to misapprehension, but at the core he + was the finest of men, generous to a fault, with + something of the old-time recklessness which used + to gather in the ancient literary taverns of London. + I always fancied that Edgar Allan Poe revisited the + earth as Stephen Crane, trying again, succeeding + again, failing again, and dying ten years sooner + than he did on the other occasion of his stay on + earth. + + "When your letter came I had just returned from + Dover, where I stayed four days to see Crane off + for the Black Forest. There was a thin thread of + hope that he might recover, but to me he looked like + a man already dead. When he spoke, or, rather, + whispered, there was all the accustomed humor in + his sayings. I said to him that I would go over to + the Schwarzwald in a few weeks, when he was getting + better, and that we would take some convalescent + rambles together. As his wife was listening + he said faintly: 'I'll look forward to that,' but he + smiled at me, and winked slowly, as much as to say: + 'You damned humbug, you know I'll take no more + rambles in this world.' Then, as if the train of + thought suggested what was looked on before as the + crisis of his illness, he murmured: 'Robert, when + you come to the hedge—that we must all go over— + it isn't bad. You feel sleepy—and—you don't + care. Just a little dreamy curiosity—which world + you're really in—that's all.' + + "To-morrow, Saturday, the 9th, I go again to + Dover to meet his body. He will rest for a little + while in England, a country that was always good + to him, then to America, and his journey will be + ended. + + "I've got the unfinished manuscript of his last + novel here beside me, a rollicking Irish tale, different + from anything he ever wrote before. Stephen + thought I was the only person who could finish it, + and he was too ill for me to refuse. I don't know + what to do about the matter, for I never could work + up another man's ideas. Even your vivid imagination + could hardly conjecture anything more ghastly + than the dying man, lying by an open window overlooking + the English channel, relating in a sepulchral + whisper the comic situations of his humorous hero + so that I might take up the thread of his story. + + "From the window beside which I write this I + can see down in the valley Ravensbrook House, + where Crane used to live and where Harold Frederic, + he and I spent many a merry night together. When + the Romans occupied Britain, some of their legions, + parched with thirst, were wandering about these dry + hills with the chance of finding water or perishing. + They watched the ravens, and so came to the stream + which rises under my place and flows past Stephen's + former home; hence the name, Ravensbrook. + + "It seems a strange coincidence that the greatest + modern writer on war should set himself down + where the greatest ancient warrior, Caesar, probably + stopped to quench his thirst. + + "Stephen died at three in the morning, the same + sinister hour which carried away our friend Frederic + nineteen months before. At midnight, in Crane's + fourteenth-century house in Sussex, we two tried + to lure back the ghost of Frederic into that house of + ghosts, and to our company, thinking that if reappearing + were ever possible so strenuous a man as + Harold would somehow shoulder his way past the + guards, but he made no sign. I wonder if the less + insistent Stephen will suggest some ingenious method + by which the two can pass the barrier. I can imagine + Harold cursing on the other side, and welcoming + the more subtle assistance of his finely fibred + friend. + + "I feel like the last of the Three Musketeers, the + other two gone down in their duel with Death. I + am wondering if, within the next two years, I also + shall get the challenge. If so, I shall go to the competing + ground the more cheerfully that two such + good fellows await the outcome on the other side. + + "Ever your friend, + + "ROBERT BARR." +</pre> + <p> + The last of the Three Musketeers is gone, now, although he outlived his + friends by some years. Robert Barr died in 1912. Perhaps they are still + debating a joint return. + </p> + <p> + There could be, perhaps, no better close for a paper on Stephen Crane than + the subjoined paragraph from a letter written by him to a Rochester + editor:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "The one thing that deeply pleases me is the + fact that men of sense invariably believe me to be + sincere. I know that my work does not amount to + a string of dried beans—I always calmly admit it—but + I also know that I do the best that is in me + without regard to praise or blame. When I was + the mark for every humorist in the country, I went + ahead; and now when I am the mark for only fifty + per cent of the humorists of the country, I go + ahead; for I understand that a man is born into the + world with his own pair of eyes, and he is not at all + responsible for his vision—he is merely responsible + for his quality of personal honesty. To keep + close to this personal honesty is my supreme ambition." +</pre> + <h3> + VINCENT STARRETT. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OPEN BOAT + </h2> + <p> + A Tale intended to be after the fact. Being the experience of four men + from the sunk steamer "Commodore" + </p> + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + None of them knew the color of the sky. Their eyes glanced level, and were + fastened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves were of the + hue of slate, save for the tops, which were of foaming white, and all of + the men knew the colors of the sea. The horizon narrowed and widened, and + dipped and rose, and at all times its edge was jagged with waves that + seemed thrust up in points like rocks. Many a man ought to have a bath-tub + larger than the boat which here rode upon the sea. These waves were most + wrongfully and barbarously abrupt and tall, and each froth-top was a + problem in small-boat navigation. + </p> + <p> + The cook squatted in the bottom and looked with both eyes at the six + inches of gunwale which separated him from the ocean. His sleeves were + rolled over his fat forearms, and the two flaps of his unbuttoned vest + dangled as he bent to bail out the boat. Often he said: "Gawd! That was a + narrow clip." As he remarked it he invariably gazed eastward over the + broken sea. + </p> + <p> + The oiler, steering with one of the two oars in the boat, sometimes raised + himself suddenly to keep clear of water that swirled in over the stern. It + was a thin little oar and it seemed often ready to snap. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent, pulling at the other oar, watched the waves and + wondered why he was there. + </p> + <p> + The injured captain, lying in the bow, was at this time buried in that + profound dejection and indifference which comes, temporarily at least, to + even the bravest and most enduring when, willy nilly, the firm fails, the + army loses, the ship goes down. The mind of the master of a vessel is + rooted deep in the timbers of her, though he commanded for a day or a + decade, and this captain had on him the stern impression of a scene in the + greys of dawn of seven turned faces, and later a stump of a top-mast with + a white ball on it that slashed to and fro at the waves, went low and + lower, and down. Thereafter there was something strange in his voice. + Although steady, it was, deep with mourning, and of a quality beyond + oration or tears. + </p> + <p> + "Keep 'er a little more south, Billie," said he. + </p> + <p> + "'A little more south,' sir," said the oiler in the stern. + </p> + <p> + A seat in this boat was not unlike a seat upon a bucking broncho, and by + the same token, a broncho is not much smaller. The craft pranced and + reared, and plunged like an animal. As each wave came, and she rose for + it, she seemed like a horse making at a fence outrageously high. The + manner of her scramble over these walls of water is a mystic thing, and, + moreover, at the top of them were ordinarily these problems in white + water, the foam racing down from the summit of each wave, requiring a new + leap, and a leap from the air. Then, after scornfully bumping a crest, she + would slide, and race, and splash down a long incline, and arrive bobbing + and nodding in front of the next menace. + </p> + <p> + A singular disadvantage of the sea lies in the fact that after + successfully surmounting one wave you discover that there is another + behind it just as important and just as nervously anxious to do something + effective in the way of swamping boats. In a ten-foot dingey one can get + an idea of the resources of the sea in the line of waves that is not + probable to the average experience which is never at sea in a dingey. As + each slatey wall of water approached, it shut all else from the view of + the men in the boat, and it was not difficult to imagine that this + particular wave was the final outburst of the ocean, the last effort of + the grim water. There was a terrible grace in the move of the waves, and + they came in silence, save for the snarling of the crests. + </p> + <p> + In the wan light, the faces of the men must have been grey. Their eyes + must have glinted in strange ways as they gazed steadily astern. Viewed + from a balcony, the whole thing would doubtless have been weirdly + picturesque. But the men in the boat had no time to see it, and if they + had had leisure there were other things to occupy their minds. The sun + swung steadily up the sky, and they knew it was broad day because the + color of the sea changed from slate to emerald-green, streaked with amber + lights, and the foam was like tumbling snow. The process of the breaking + day was unknown to them. They were aware only of this effect upon the + color of the waves that rolled toward them. + </p> + <p> + In disjointed sentences the cook and the correspondent argued as to the + difference between a life-saving station and a house of refuge. The cook + had said: "There's a house of refuge just north of the Mosquito Inlet + Light, and as soon as they see us, they'll come off in their boat and pick + us up." + </p> + <p> + "As soon as who see us?" said the correspondent. + </p> + <p> + "The crew," said the cook. + </p> + <p> + "Houses of refuge don't have crews," said the correspondent. "As I + understand them, they are only places where clothes and grub are stored + for the benefit of shipwrecked people. They don't carry crews." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes, they do," said the cook. + </p> + <p> + "No, they don't," said the correspondent. + </p> + <p> + "Well, we're not there yet, anyhow," said the oiler, in the stern. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said the cook, "perhaps it's not a house of refuge that I'm + thinking of as being near Mosquito Inlet Light. Perhaps it's a life-saving + station." + </p> + <p> + "We're not there yet," said the oiler, in the stern. + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + As the boat bounced from the top of each wave, the wind tore through the + hair of the hatless men, and as the craft plopped her stern down again the + spray splashed past them. The crest of each of these waves was a hill, + from the top of which the men surveyed, for a moment, a broad tumultuous + expanse, shining and wind-riven. It was probably splendid. It was probably + glorious, this play of the free sea, wild with lights of emerald and white + and amber. + </p> + <p> + "Bully good thing it's an on-shore wind," said the cook; "If not, where + would we be? Wouldn't have a show." + </p> + <p> + "That's right," said the correspondent. + </p> + <p> + The busy oiler nodded his assent. + </p> + <p> + Then the captain, in the bow, chuckled in a way that expressed humor, + contempt, tragedy, all in one. "Do you think We've got much of a show now, + boys?" said he. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the three were silent, save for a trifle of hemming and hawing. + To express any particular optimism at this time they felt to be childish + and stupid, but they all doubtless possessed this sense of the situation + in their mind. A young man thinks doggedly at such times. On the other + hand, the ethics of their condition was decidedly against any open + suggestion of hopelessness. So they were silent. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, well," said the captain, soothing his children, "We'll get ashore all + right." + </p> + <p> + But there was that in his tone which made them think, so the oiler quoth: + "Yes! If this wind holds!" + </p> + <p> + The cook was bailing: "Yes! If we don't catch hell in the surf." + </p> + <p> + Canton flannel gulls flew near and far. Sometimes they sat down on the + sea, near patches of brown seaweed that rolled on the waves with a + movement like carpets on a line in a gale. The birds sat comfortably in + groups, and they were envied by some in the dingey, for the wrath of the + sea was no more to them than it was to a covey of prairie chickens a + thousand miles inland. Often they came very close and stared at the men + with black bead-like eyes. At these times they were uncanny and sinister + in their unblinking scrutiny, and the men hooted angrily at them, telling + them to be gone. One came, and evidently decided to alight on the top of + the captain's head. The bird flew parallel to the boat and did not circle, + but made short sidelong jumps in the air in chicken-fashion. His black + eyes were wistfully fixed upon the captain's head. "Ugly brute," said the + oiler to the bird. "You look as if you were made with a jack-knife." The + cook and the correspondent swore darkly at the creature. The captain + naturally wished to knock it away with the end of the heavy painter; but + he did not dare do it, because anything resembling an emphatic gesture + would have capsized this freighted boat, and so with his open hand, the + captain gently and carefully waved the gull away. After it had been + discouraged from the pursuit the captain breathed easier on account of his + hair, and others breathed easier because the bird struck their minds at + this time as being somehow grewsome and ominous. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the oiler and the correspondent rowed And also they rowed. + </p> + <p> + They sat together in the same seat, and each rowed an oar. Then the oiler + took both oars; then the correspondent took both oars; then the oiler; + then the correspondent. They rowed and they rowed. The very ticklish part + of the business was when the time came for the reclining one in the stern + to take his turn at the oars. By the very last star of truth, it is easier + to steal eggs from under a hen than it was to change seats in the dingey. + First the man in the stern slid his hand along the thwart and moved with + care, as if he were of Sèvres. Then the man in the rowing seat slid his + hand along the other thwart. It was all done with most extraordinary care. + As the two sidled past each other, the whole party kept watchful eyes on + the coming wave, and the captain cried: "Look out now! Steady there!" + </p> + <p> + The brown mats of seaweed that appeared from time to time were like + islands, bits of earth. They were traveling, apparently, neither one way + nor the other. They were, to all intents, stationary. They informed the + men in the boat that it was making progress slowly toward the land. + </p> + <p> + The captain, rearing cautiously in the bow, after the dingey soared on a + great swell, said that he had seen the light-house at Mosquito Inlet. + Presently the cook remarked that he had seen it. The correspondent was at + the oars then, and for some reason he too wished to look at the + lighthouse, but his back was toward the far shore and the waves were + important, and for some time he could not seize an opportunity to turn his + head. But at last there came a wave more gentle than the others, and when + at the crest of it he swiftly scoured the western horizon. + </p> + <p> + "See it?" said the captain. + </p> + <p> + "No," said the correspondent slowly, "I didn't see anything." + </p> + <p> + "Look again," said the captain. He pointed. "It's exactly in that + direction." + </p> + <p> + At the top of another wave, the correspondent did as he was bid, and this + time his eyes chanced on a small still thing on the edge of the swaying + horizon. It was precisely like the point of a pin. It took an anxious eye + to find a light house so tiny. + </p> + <p> + "Think we'll make it, captain?" + </p> + <p> + "If this wind holds and the boat don't swamp, we can't do much else," said + the captain. + </p> + <p> + The little boat, lifted by each towering sea, and splashed viciously by + the crests, made progress that in the absence of seaweed was not apparent + to those in her. She seemed just a wee thing wallowing, miraculously + top-up, at the mercy of five oceans. Occasionally, a great spread of + water, like white flames, swarmed into her. + </p> + <p> + "Bail her, cook," said the captain serenely. + </p> + <p> + "All right, captain," said the cheerful cook. + </p> + <h3> + III + </h3> + <p> + It would be difficult to describe the subtle brotherhood of men that was + here established on the seas. No one said that it was so. No one mentioned + it. But it dwelt in the boat, and each man felt it warm him. They were a + captain, an oiler, a cook, and a correspondent, and they were friends, + friends in a more curiously iron-bound degree than may be common. The hurt + captain, lying against the water-jar in the bow, spoke always in a low + voice and calmly, but he could never command a more ready and swiftly + obedient crew than the motley three of the dingey. It was more than a mere + recognition of what was best for the common safety. There was surely in it + a quality that was personal and heartfelt. And after this devotion to the + commander of the boat there was this comradeship that the correspondent, + for instance, who had been taught to be cynical of men, knew even at the + time was the best experience of his life. But no one said that it was so. + No one mentioned it. + </p> + <p> + "I wish we had a sail," remarked the captain. "We might try my overcoat on + the end of an oar and give you two boys a chance to rest." So the cook and + the correspondent held the mast and spread wide the overcoat. The oiler + steered, and the little boat made good way with her new rig. Sometimes the + oiler had to scull sharply to keep a sea from breaking into the boat, but + otherwise sailing was a success. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the lighthouse had been growing slowly larger. It had now almost + assumed color, and appeared like a little grey shadow on the sky. The man + at the oars could not be prevented from turning his head rather often to + try for a glimpse of this little grey shadow. + </p> + <p> + At last, from the top of each wave the men in the tossing boat could see + land. Even as the lighthouse was an upright shadow on the sky, this land + seemed but a long black shadow on the sea. It certainly was thinner than + paper. "We must be about opposite New Smyrna," said the cook, who had + coasted this shore often in schooners. "Captain, by the way, I believe + they abandoned that life-saving station there about a year ago." + </p> + <p> + "Did they?" said the captain. + </p> + <p> + The wind slowly died away. The cook and the correspondent were not now + obliged to slave in order to hold high the oar. But the waves continued + their old impetuous swooping at the dingey, and the little craft, no + longer under way, struggled woundily over them. The oiler or the + correspondent took the oars again. + </p> + <p> + Shipwrecks are <i>à propos</i> of nothing. If men could only train for + them and have them occur when the men had reached pink condition, there + would be less drowning at sea. Of the four in the dingey none had slept + any time worth mentioning for two days and two nights previous to + embarking in the dingey, and in the excitement of clambering about the + deck of a foundering ship they had also forgotten to eat heartily. + </p> + <p> + For these reasons, and for others, neither the oiler nor the correspondent + was fond of rowing at this time. The correspondent wondered ingenuously + how in the name of all that was sane could there be people who thought it + amusing to row a boat. It was not an amusement; it was a diabolical + punishment, and even a genius of mental aberrations could never conclude + that it was anything but a horror to the muscles and a crime against the + back. He mentioned to the boat in general how the amusement of rowing + struck him, and the weary-faced oiler smiled in full sympathy. Previously + to the foundering, by the way, the oiler had worked double-watch in the + engine-room of the ship. + </p> + <p> + "Take her easy, now, boys," said the captain. "Don't spend yourselves. If + we have to run a surf you'll need all your strength, because we'll sure + have to swim for it. Take your time." + </p> + <p> + Slowly the land arose from the sea. From a black line it became a line of + black and a line of white, trees and sand. Finally, the captain said that + he could make out a house on the shore. "That's the house of refuge, + sure," said the cook. "They'll see us before long, and come out after us." + </p> + <p> + The distant lighthouse reared high. "The keeper ought to be able to make + us out now, if he's looking through a glass," said the captain. "He'll + notify the life-saving people." + </p> + <p> + "None of those other boats could have got ashore to give word of the + wreck," said the oiler, in a low voice. "Else the lifeboat would be out + hunting us." + </p> + <p> + Slowly and beautifully the land loomed out of the sea. The wind came + again. It had veered from the north-east to the south-east. Finally, a new + sound struck the ears of the men in the boat. It was the low thunder of + the surf on the shore. "We'll never be able to make the lighthouse now," + said the captain. "Swing her head a little more north, Billie," said he. + </p> + <p> + "'A little more north,' sir," said the oiler. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the little boat turned her nose once more down the wind, and all + but the oarsman watched the shore grow. Under the influence of this + expansion doubt and direful apprehension was leaving the minds of the men. + The management of the boat was still most absorbing, but it could not + prevent a quiet cheerfulness. In an hour, perhaps, they would be ashore. + </p> + <p> + Their backbones had become thoroughly used to balancing in the boat, and + they now rode this wild colt of a dingey like circus men. The + correspondent thought that he had been drenched to the skin, but happening + to feel in the top pocket of his coat, he found therein eight cigars. Four + of them were soaked with sea-water; four were perfectly scathless. After a + search, somebody produced three dry matches, and thereupon the four waifs + rode impudently in their little boat, and with an assurance of an + impending rescue shining in their eyes, puffed at the big cigars and + judged well and ill of all men. Everybody took a drink of water. + </p> + <h3> + IV + </h3> + <p> + "Cook," remarked the captain, "there don't seem to be any signs of life + about your house of refuge." + </p> + <p> + "No," replied the cook. "Funny they don't see us!" + </p> + <p> + A broad stretch of lowly coast lay before the eyes of the men. It was of + dunes topped with dark vegetation. The roar of the surf was plain, and + sometimes they could see the white lip of a wave as it spun up the beach. + A tiny house was blocked out black upon the sky. Southward, the slim + lighthouse lifted its little grey length. + </p> + <p> + Tide, wind, and waves were swinging the dingey northward. "Funny they + don't see us," said the men. + </p> + <p> + The surf's roar was here dulled, but its tone was, nevertheless, + thunderous and mighty. As the boat swam over the great rollers, the men + sat listening to this roar. "We'll swamp sure," said everybody. + </p> + <p> + It is fair to say here that there was not a life-saving station within + twenty miles in either direction, but the men did not know this fact, and + in consequence they made dark and opprobrious remarks concerning the + eyesight of the nation's life-savers. Four scowling men sat in the dingey + and surpassed records in the invention of epithets. + </p> + <p> + "Funny they don't see us." + </p> + <p> + The lightheartedness of a former time had completely faded. To their + sharpened minds it was easy to conjure pictures of all kinds of + incompetency and blindness and, indeed, cowardice. There was the shore of + the populous land, and it was bitter and bitter to them that from it came + no sign. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said the captain, ultimately, "I suppose we'll have to make a try + for ourselves. If we stay out here too long, we'll none of us have + strength left to swim after the boat swamps." + </p> + <p> + And so the oiler, who was at the oars, turned the boat straight for the + shore. There was a sudden tightening of muscle. There was some thinking. + </p> + <p> + "If we don't all get ashore—" said the captain. "If we don't all get + ashore, I suppose you fellows know where to send news of my finish?" + </p> + <p> + They then briefly exchanged some addresses and admonitions. As for the + reflections of the men, there was a great deal of rage in them. Perchance + they might be formulated thus: "If I am going to be drowned—if I am + going to be drowned—if I am going to be drowned, why, in the name of + the seven mad gods who rule the sea, was I allowed to come thus far and + contemplate sand and trees? Was I brought here merely to have my nose + dragged away as I was about to nibble the sacred cheese of life? It is + preposterous. If this old ninny-woman, Fate, cannot do better than this, + she should be deprived of the management of men's fortunes. She is an old + hen who knows not her intention. If she has decided to drown me, why did + she not do it in the beginning and save me all this trouble? The whole + affair is absurd.... But no, she cannot mean to drown me. She dare not + drown me. She cannot drown me. Not after all this work." Afterward the man + might have had an impulse to shake his fist at the clouds: "Just you drown + me, now, and then hear what I call you!" + </p> + <p> + The billows that came at this time were more formidable. They seemed + always just about to break and roll over the little boat in a turmoil of + foam. There was a preparatory and long growl in the speech of them. No + mind unused to the sea would have concluded that the dingey could ascend + these sheer heights in time. The shore was still afar. The oiler was a + wily surfman. "Boys," he said swiftly, "she won't live three minutes more, + and we're too far out to swim. Shall I take her to sea again, captain?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes! Go ahead!" said the captain. + </p> + <p> + This oiler, by a series of quick miracles, and fast and steady + oarsmanship, turned the boat in the middle of the surf and took her safely + to sea again. + </p> + <p> + There was a considerable silence as the boat bumped over the furrowed sea + to deeper water. Then somebody in gloom spoke. "Well, anyhow, they must + have seen us from the shore by now." + </p> + <p> + The gulls went in slanting flight up the wind toward the grey desolate + east. A squall, marked by dingy clouds, and clouds brick-red, like smoke + from a burning building, appeared from the south-east. + </p> + <p> + "What do you think of those life-saving people? Ain't they peaches?' + </p> + <p> + "Funny they haven't seen us." + </p> + <p> + "Maybe they think we're out here for sport! Maybe they think we're + fishin'. Maybe they think we're damned fools." + </p> + <p> + It was a long afternoon. A changed tide tried to force them southward, but + the wind and wave said northward. Far ahead, where coast-line, sea, and + sky formed their mighty angle, there were little dots which seemed to + indicate a city on the shore. + </p> + <p> + "St. Augustine?" + </p> + <p> + The captain shook his head. "Too near Mosquito Inlet." + </p> + <p> + And the oiler rowed, and then the correspondent rowed. Then the oiler + rowed. It was a weary business. The human back can become the seat of more + aches and pains than are registered in books for the composite anatomy of + a regiment. It is a limited area, but it can become the theatre of + innumerable muscular conflicts, tangles, wrenches, knots, and other + comforts. + </p> + <p> + "Did you ever like to row, Billie?" asked the correspondent. + </p> + <p> + "No," said the oiler. "Hang it!" + </p> + <p> + When one exchanged the rowing-seat for a place in the bottom of the boat, + he suffered a bodily depression that caused him to be careless of + everything save an obligation to wiggle one finger. There was cold + sea-water swashing to and fro in the boat, and he lay in it. His head, + pillowed on a thwart, was within an inch of the swirl of a wave crest, and + sometimes a particularly obstreperous sea came in-board and drenched him + once more. But these matters did not annoy him. It is almost certain that + if the boat had capsized he would have tumbled comfortably out upon the + ocean as if he felt sure that it was a great soft mattress. + </p> + <p> + "Look! There's a man on the shore!" + </p> + <p> + "Where?" + </p> + <p> + "There! See 'im? See 'im?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sure! He's walking along." + </p> + <p> + "Now he's stopped. Look! He's facing us!" + </p> + <p> + "He's waving at us!" + </p> + <p> + "So he is! By thunder!" + </p> + <p> + "Ah, now we're all right! Now we're all right! There'll be a boat out here + for us in half-an-hour." + </p> + <p> + "He's going on. He's running. He's going up to that house there." + </p> + <p> + The remote beach seemed lower than the sea, and it required a searching + glance to discern the little black figure. The captain saw a floating + stick and they rowed to it. A bath-towel was by some weird chance in the + boat, and, tying this on the stick, the captain waved it. The oarsman did + not dare turn his head, so he was obliged to ask questions. + </p> + <p> + "What's he doing now?" + </p> + <p> + "He's standing still again. He's looking, I think.... There he goes again. + Toward the house.... Now he's stopped again." + </p> + <p> + "Is he waving at us?" + </p> + <p> + "No, not now! he was, though." + </p> + <p> + "Look! There comes another man!" + </p> + <p> + "He's running." + </p> + <p> + "Look at him go, would you." + </p> + <p> + "Why, he's on a bicycle. Now he's met the other man. They're both waving + at us. Look!" + </p> + <p> + "There comes something up the beach." + </p> + <p> + "What the devil is that thing?" + </p> + <p> + "Why it looks like a boat." + </p> + <p> + "Why, certainly it's a boat." + </p> + <p> + "No, it's on wheels." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, so it is. Well, that must be the life-boat. They drag them along + shore on a wagon." + </p> + <p> + "That's the life-boat, sure." + </p> + <p> + "No, by ——, it's—it's an omnibus." + </p> + <p> + "I tell you it's a life-boat." + </p> + <p> + "It is not! It's an omnibus. I can see it plain. See? One of these big + hotel omnibuses." + </p> + <p> + "By thunder, you're right. It's an omnibus, sure as fate. What do you + suppose they are doing with an omnibus? Maybe they are going around + collecting the life-crew, hey?" + </p> + <p> + "That's it, likely. Look! There's a fellow waving a little black flag. + He's standing on the steps of the omnibus. There come those other two + fellows. Now they're all talking together. Look at the fellow with the + flag. Maybe he ain't waving it." + </p> + <p> + "That ain't a flag, is it? That's his coat. Why, certainly, that's his + coat." + </p> + <p> + "So it is. It's his coat. He's taken it off and is waving it around his + head. But would you look at him swing it." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, say, there isn't any life-saving station there. That's just a winter + resort hotel omnibus that has brought over some of the boarders to see us + drown." + </p> + <p> + "What's that idiot with the coat mean? What's he signaling, anyhow?" + </p> + <p> + "It looks as if he were trying to tell us to go north. There must be a + life-saving station up there." + </p> + <p> + "No! He thinks we're fishing. Just giving us a merry hand. See? Ah, there, + Willie!" + </p> + <p> + "Well, I wish I could make something out of those signals. What do you + suppose he means?" + </p> + <p> + "He don't mean anything. He's just playing." + </p> + <p> + "Well, if he'd just signal us to try the surf again, or to go to sea and + wait, or go north, or go south, or go to hell—there would be some + reason in it. But look at him. He just stands there and keeps his coat + revolving like a wheel. The ass!" + </p> + <p> + "There come more people." + </p> + <p> + "Now there's quite a mob. Look! Isn't that a boat?" + </p> + <p> + "Where? Oh, I see where you mean. No, that's no boat." + </p> + <p> + "That fellow is still waving his coat." + </p> + <p> + "He must think we like to see him do that. Why don't he quit it? It don't + mean anything." + </p> + <p> + "I don't know. I think he is trying to make us go north. It must be that + there's a life-saving station there somewhere." + </p> + <p> + "Say, he ain't tired yet. Look at 'im wave." + </p> + <p> + "Wonder how long he can keep that up. He's been revolving his coat ever + since he caught sight of us. He's an idiot. Why aren't they getting men to + bring a boat out? A fishing boat—one of those big yawls—could + come out here all right. Why don't he do something?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, it's all right, now." + </p> + <p> + "They'll have a boat out here for us in less than no time, now that + they've seen us." + </p> + <p> + A faint yellow tone came into the sky over the low land. The shadows on + the sea slowly deepened. The wind bore coldness with it, and the men began + to shiver. + </p> + <p> + "Holy smoke!" said one, allowing his voice to express his impious mood, + "if we keep on monkeying out here! If we've got to flounder out here all + night!" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, we'll never have to stay here all night! Don't you worry. They've + seen us now, and it won't be long before they'll come chasing out after + us." + </p> + <p> + The shore grew dusky. The man waving a coat blended gradually into this + gloom, and it swallowed in the same manner the omnibus and the group of + people. The spray, when it dashed uproariously over the side, made the + voyagers shrink and swear like men who were being branded. + </p> + <p> + "I'd like to catch the chump who waved the coat. I feel like soaking him + one, just for luck." + </p> + <p> + "Why? What did he do?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, nothing, but then he seemed so damned cheerful." + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the oiler rowed, and then the correspondent rowed, and + then the oiler rowed. Grey-faced and bowed forward, they mechanically, + turn by turn, plied the leaden oars. The form of the lighthouse had + vanished from the southern horizon, but finally a pale star appeared, just + lifting from the sea. The streaked saffron in the west passed before the + all-merging darkness, and the sea to the east was black. The land had + vanished, and was expressed only by the low and drear thunder of the surf. + </p> + <p> + "If I am going to be drowned—if I am going to be drowned—if I + am going to be drowned, why, in the name of the seven mad gods who rule + the sea, was I allowed to come thus far and contemplate sand and trees? + Was I brought here merely to have my nose dragged away as I was about to + nibble the sacred cheese of life?" + </p> + <p> + The patient captain, drooped over the water-jar, was sometimes obliged to + speak to the oarsman. + </p> + <p> + "Keep her head up! Keep her head up!" + </p> + <p> + "'Keep her head up,' sir." The voices were weary and low. + </p> + <p> + This was surely a quiet evening. All save the oarsman lay heavily and + listlessly in the boat's bottom. As for him, his eyes were just capable of + noting the tall black waves that swept forward in a most sinister silence, + save for an occasional subdued growl of a crest. + </p> + <p> + The cook's head was on a thwart, and he looked without interest at the + water under his nose. He was deep in other scenes. Finally he spoke. + "Billie," he murmured, dreamfully, "what kind of pie do you like best?" + </p> + <h3> + V + </h3> + <p> + "Pie," said the oiler and the correspondent, agitatedly. "Don't talk about + those things, blast you!" + </p> + <p> + "Well," said the cook, "I was just thinking about ham sandwiches, and—" + </p> + <p> + A night on the sea in an open boat is a long night. As darkness settled + finally, the shine of the light, lifting from the sea in the south, + changed to full gold. On the northern horizon a new light appeared, a + small bluish gleam on the edge of the waters. These two lights were the + furniture of the world. Otherwise there was nothing but waves. + </p> + <p> + Two men huddled in the stern, and distances were so magnificent in the + dingey that the rower was enabled to keep his feet partly warmed by + thrusting them under his companions. Their legs indeed extended far under + the rowing-seat until they touched the feet of the captain forward. + Sometimes, despite the efforts of the tired oarsman, a wave came piling + into the boat, an icy wave of the night, and the chilling water soaked + them anew. They would twist their bodies for a moment and groan, and sleep + the dead sleep once more, while the water in the boat gurgled about them + as the craft rocked. + </p> + <p> + The plan of the oiler and the correspondent was for one to row until he + lost the ability, and then arouse the other from his sea-water couch in + the bottom of the boat. + </p> + <p> + The oiler plied the oars until his head drooped forward, and the + overpowering sleep blinded him. And he rowed yet afterward. Then he + touched a man in the bottom of the boat, and called his name. "Will you + spell me for a little while?" he said, meekly. + </p> + <p> + "Sure, Billie," said the correspondent, awakening and dragging himself to + a sitting position. They exchanged places carefully, and the oiler, + cuddling down in the sea-water at the cook's side, seemed to go to sleep + instantly. + </p> + <p> + The particular violence of the sea had ceased. The waves came without + snarling. The obligation of the man at the oars was to keep the boat + headed so that the tilt of the rollers would not capsize her, and to + preserve her from filling when the crests rushed past. The black waves + were silent and hard to be seen in the darkness. Often one was almost upon + the boat before the oarsman was aware. + </p> + <p> + In a low voice the correspondent addressed the captain. He was not sure + that the captain was awake, although this iron man seemed to be always + awake. "Captain, shall I keep her making for that light north, sir?" + </p> + <p> + The same steady voice answered him. "Yes. Keep it about two points off the + port bow." + </p> + <p> + The cook had tied a life-belt around himself in order to get even the + warmth which this clumsy cork contrivance could donate, and he seemed + almost stove-like when a rower, whose teeth invariably chattered wildly as + soon as he ceased his labor, dropped down to sleep. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent, as he rowed, looked down at the two men sleeping + under-foot. The cook's arm was around the oiler's shoulders, and, with + their fragmentary clothing and haggard faces, they were the babes of the + sea, a grotesque rendering of the old babes in the wood. + </p> + <p> + Later he must have grown stupid at his work, for suddenly there was a + growling of water, and a crest came with a roar and a swash into the boat, + and it was a wonder that it did not set the cook afloat in his life-belt. + The cook continued to sleep, but the oiler sat up, blinking his eyes and + shaking with the new cold. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I'm awful sorry, Billie," said the correspondent contritely. + </p> + <p> + "That's all right, old boy," said the oiler, and lay down again and was + asleep. + </p> + <p> + Presently it seemed that even the captain dozed, and the correspondent + thought that he was the one man afloat on all the oceans. The wind had a + voice as it came over the waves, and it was sadder than the end. + </p> + <p> + There was a long, loud swishing astern of the boat, and a gleaming trail + of phosphorescence, like blue flame, was furrowed on the black waters. It + might have been made by a monstrous knife. + </p> + <p> + Then there came a stillness, while the correspondent breathed with the + open mouth and looked at the sea. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there was another swish and another long flash of bluish light, + and this time it was alongside the boat, and might almost have been + reached with an oar. The correspondent saw an enormous fin speed like a + shadow through the water, hurling the crystalline spray and leaving the + long glowing trail. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent looked over his shoulder at the captain. His face was + hidden, and he seemed to be asleep. He looked at the babes of the sea. + They certainly were asleep. So, being bereft of sympathy, he leaned a + little way to one side and swore softly into the sea. + </p> + <p> + But the thing did not then leave the vicinity of the boat. Ahead or + astern, on one side or the other, at intervals long or short, fled the + long sparkling streak, and there was to be heard the whirroo of the dark + fin. The speed and power of the thing was greatly to be admired. It cut + the water like a gigantic and keen projectile. + </p> + <p> + The presence of this biding thing did not affect the man with the same + horror that it would if he had been a picnicker. He simply looked at the + sea dully and swore in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, it is true that he did not wish to be alone. He wished one + of his companions to awaken by chance and keep him company with it. But + the captain hung motionless over the water-jar, and the oiler and the cook + in the bottom of the boat were plunged in slumber. + </p> + <h3> + VI + </h3> + <p> + "If I am going to be drowned—if I am going to be drowned—if I + am going to be drowned, why, in the name of the seven mad gods who rule + the sea, was I allowed to come thus far and contemplate sand and trees?" + </p> + <p> + During this dismal night, it may be remarked that a man would conclude + that it was really the intention of the seven mad gods to drown him, + despite the abominable injustice of it. For it was certainly an abominable + injustice to drown a man who had worked so hard, so hard. The man felt it + would be a crime most unnatural. Other people had drowned at sea since + galleys swarmed with painted sails, but still— + </p> + <p> + When it occurs to a man that nature does not regard him as important, and + that she feels she would not maim the universe by disposing of him, he at + first wishes to throw bricks at the temple, and he hates deeply the fact + that there are no brick and no temples. Any visible expression of nature + would surely be pelleted with his jeers. + </p> + <p> + Then, if there be no tangible thing to hoot he feels, perhaps, the desire + to confront a personification and indulge in pleas, bowed to one knee, and + with hands supplicant, saying: "Yes, but I love myself." + </p> + <p> + A high cold star on a winter's night is the word he feels that she says to + him. Thereafter he knows the pathos of his situation. + </p> + <p> + The men in the dingey had not discussed these matters, but each had, no + doubt, reflected upon them in silence and according to his mind. There was + seldom any expression upon their faces save the general one of complete + weariness. Speech was devoted to the business of the boat. + </p> + <p> + To chime the notes of his emotion, a verse mysteriously entered the + correspondent's head. He had even forgotten that he had forgotten this + verse, but it suddenly was in his mind. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, + There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of + woman's tears; + But a comrade stood beside him, and he took that comrade's hand, + And he said: 'I shall never see my own, my native land.'" +</pre> + <p> + In his childhood, the correspondent had been made acquainted with the fact + that a soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, but he had never + regarded the fact as important. Myriads of his school-fellows had informed + him of the soldier's plight, but the dinning had naturally ended by making + him perfectly indifferent. He had never considered it his affair that a + soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, nor had it appeared to him as + a matter for sorrow. It was less to him than the breaking of a pencil's + point. + </p> + <p> + Now, however, it quaintly came to him as a human, living thing. It was no + longer merely a picture of a few throes in the breast of a poet, meanwhile + drinking tea and warming his feet at the grate; it was an actuality—stern, + mournful, and fine. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent plainly saw the soldier. He lay on the sand with his + feet out straight and still. While his pale left hand was upon his chest + in an attempt to thwart the going of his life, the blood came between his + fingers. In the far Algerian distance, a city of low square forms was set + against a sky that was faint with the last sunset hues. The correspondent, + plying the oars and dreaming of the slow and slower movements of the lips + of the soldier, was moved by a profound and perfectly impersonal + comprehension. He was sorry for the soldier of the Legion who lay dying in + Algiers. + </p> + <p> + The thing which had followed the boat and waited, had evidently grown + bored at the delay. There was no longer to be heard the slash of the + cut-water, and there was no longer the flame of the long trail. The light + in the north still glimmered, but it was apparently no nearer to the boat. + Sometimes the boom of the surf rang in the correspondent's ears, and he + turned the craft seaward then and rowed harder. Southward, some one had + evidently built a watch-fire on the beach. It was too low and too far to + be seen, but it made a shimmering, roseate reflection upon the bluff back + of it, and this could be discerned from the boat. The wind came stronger, + and sometimes a wave suddenly raged out like a mountain-cat, and there was + to be seen the sheen and sparkle of a broken crest. + </p> + <p> + The captain, in the bow, moved on his water-jar and sat erect. "Pretty + long night," he observed to the correspondent. He looked at the shore. + "Those life-saving people take their time." + </p> + <p> + "Did you see that shark playing around?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I saw him. He was a big fellow, all right." + </p> + <p> + "Wish I had known you were awake." + </p> + <p> + Later the correspondent spoke into the bottom of the boat. + </p> + <p> + "Billie!" There was a slow and gradual disentanglement. "Billie, will you + spell me?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure," said the oiler. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the correspondent touched the cold comfortable sea-water in the + bottom of the boat, and had huddled close to the cook's life-belt he was + deep in sleep, despite the fact that his teeth played all the popular + airs. This sleep was so good to him that it was but a moment before he + heard a voice call his name in a tone that demonstrated the last stages of + exhaustion. "Will you spell me?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure, Billie." + </p> + <p> + The light in the north had mysteriously vanished, but the correspondent + took his course from the wide-awake captain. + </p> + <p> + Later in the night they took the boat farther out to sea, and the captain + directed the cook to take one oar at the stern and keep the boat facing + the seas. He was to call out if he should hear the thunder of the surf. + This plan enabled the oiler and the correspondent to get respite together. + "We'll give those boys a chance to get into shape again," said the + captain. They curled down and, after a few preliminary chatterings and + trembles, slept once more the dead sleep. Neither knew they had bequeathed + to the cook the company of another shark, or perhaps the same shark. + </p> + <p> + As the boat caroused on the waves, spray occasionally bumped over the side + and gave them a fresh soaking, but this had no power to break their + repose. The ominous slash of the wind and the water affected them as it + would have affected mummies. + </p> + <p> + "Boys," said the cook, with the notes of every reluctance in his voice, + "she's drifted in pretty close. I guess one of you had better take her to + sea again." The correspondent, aroused, heard the crash of the toppled + crests. + </p> + <p> + As he was rowing, the captain gave him some whisky-and-water, and this + steadied the chills out of him. "If I ever get ashore and anybody shows me + even a photograph of an oar—" + </p> + <p> + At last there was a short conversation. + </p> + <p> + "Billie.... Billie, will you spell me?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure," said the oiler. + </p> + <h3> + VII + </h3> + <p> + When the correspondent again opened his eyes, the sea and the sky were + each of the grey hue of the dawning. Later, carmine and gold was painted + upon the waters. The morning appeared finally, in its splendor, with a sky + of pure blue, and the sunlight flamed on the tips of the waves. + </p> + <p> + On the distant dunes were set many little black cottages, and a tall white + windmill reared above them. No man, nor dog, nor bicycle appeared on the + beach. The cottages might have formed a deserted village. + </p> + <p> + The voyagers scanned the shore. A conference was held in the boat. "Well," + said the captain, "if no help is coming we might better try a run through + the surf right away. If we stay out here much longer we will be too weak + to do anything for ourselves at all." The others silently acquiesced in + this reasoning. The boat was headed for the beach. The correspondent + wondered if none ever ascended the tall wind-tower, and if then they never + looked seaward. This tower was a giant, standing with its back to the + plight of the ants. It represented in a degree, to the correspondent, the + serenity of nature amid the struggles of the individual—nature in + the wind, and nature in the vision of men. She did not seem cruel to him + then, nor beneficent, nor treacherous, nor wise. But she was indifferent, + flatly indifferent. It is, perhaps, plausible that a man in this + situation, impressed with the unconcern of the universe, should see the + innumerable flaws of his life, and have them taste wickedly in his mind + and wish for another chance. A distinction between right and wrong seems + absurdly clear to him, then, in this new ignorance of the grave-edge, and + he understands that if he were given another opportunity he would mend his + conduct and his words, and be better and brighter during an introduction + or at a tea. + </p> + <p> + "Now, boys," said the captain, "she is going to swamp, sure. All we can do + is to work her in as far as possible, and then when she swamps, pile out + and scramble for the beach. Keep cool now, and don't jump until she swamps + sure." + </p> + <p> + The oiler took the oars. Over his shoulders he scanned the surf. + "Captain," he said, "I think I'd better bring her about, and keep her + head-on to the seas and back her in." + </p> + <p> + "All right, Billie," said the captain. "Back her in." The oiler swung the + boat then and, seated in the stern, the cook and the correspondent were + obliged to look over their shoulders to contemplate the lonely and + indifferent shore. + </p> + <p> + The monstrous in-shore rollers heaved the boat high until the men were + again enabled to see the white sheets of water scudding up the slanted + beach. "We won't get in very close," said the captain. Each time a man + could wrest his attention from the rollers, he turned his glance toward + the shore, and in the expression of the eyes during this contemplation + there was a singular quality. The correspondent, observing the others, + knew that they were not afraid, but the full meaning of their glances was + shrouded. + </p> + <p> + As for himself, he was too tired to grapple fundamentally with the fact. + He tried to coerce his mind into thinking of it, but the mind was + dominated at this time by the muscles, and the muscles said they did not + care. It merely occurred to him that if he should drown it would be a + shame. + </p> + <p> + There were no hurried words, no pallor, no plain agitation. The men simply + looked at the shore. "Now, remember to get well clear of the boat when you + jump," said the captain. + </p> + <p> + Seaward the crest of a roller suddenly fell with a thunderous crash, and + the long white comber came roaring down upon the boat. + </p> + <p> + "Steady now," said the captain. The men were silent. They turned their + eyes from the shore to the comber and waited. The boat slid up the + incline, leaped at the furious top, bounced over it, and swung down the + long back of the wave. Some water had been shipped and the cook bailed it + out. + </p> + <p> + But the next crest crashed also. The tumbling, boiling flood of white + water caught the boat and whirled it almost perpendicular. Water swarmed + in from all sides. The correspondent had his hands on the gunwale at this + time, and when the water entered at that place he swiftly withdrew his + fingers, as if he objected to wetting them. + </p> + <p> + The little boat, drunken with this weight of water, reeled and snuggled + deeper into the sea. + </p> + <p> + "Bail her out, cook! Bail her out," said the captain. + </p> + <p> + "All right, captain," said the cook. + </p> + <p> + "Now, boys, the next one will do for us, sure," said the oiler. "Mind to + jump clear of the boat." + </p> + <p> + The third wave moved forward, huge, furious, implacable. It fairly + swallowed the dingey, and almost simultaneously the men tumbled into the + sea. A piece of lifebelt had lain in the bottom of the boat, and as the + correspondent went overboard he held this to his chest with his left hand. + </p> + <p> + The January water was icy, and he reflected immediately that it was colder + than he had expected to find it on the coast of Florida. This appeared to + his dazed mind as a fact important enough to be noted at the time. The + coldness of the water was sad; it was tragic. This fact was somehow so + mixed and confused with his opinion of his own situation that it seemed + almost a proper reason for tears. The water was cold. + </p> + <p> + When he came to the surface he was conscious of little but the noisy + water. Afterward he saw his companions in the sea. The oiler was ahead in + the race. He was swimming strongly and rapidly. Off to the correspondent's + left, the cook's great white and corked back bulged out of the water, and + in the rear the captain was hanging with his one good hand to the keel of + the overturned dingey. + </p> + <p> + There is a certain immovable quality to a shore, and the correspondent + wondered at it amid the confusion of the sea. + </p> + <p> + It seemed also very attractive, but the correspondent knew that it was a + long journey, and he paddled leisurely. The piece of life-preserver lay + under him, and sometimes he whirled down the incline of a wave as if he + were on a handsled. + </p> + <p> + But finally he arrived at a place in the sea where travel was beset with + difficulty. He did not pause swimming to inquire what manner of current + had caught him, but there his progress ceased. The shore was set before + him like a bit of scenery on a stage, and he looked at it and understood + with his eyes each detail of it. + </p> + <p> + As the cook passed, much farther to the left, the captain was calling to + him, "Turn over on your back, cook! Turn over on your back and use the + oar." + </p> + <p> + "All right, sir." The cook turned on his back, and, paddling with an oar, + went ahead as if he were a canoe. + </p> + <p> + Presently the boat also passed to the left of the correspondent with the + captain clinging with one hand to the keel. He would have appeared like a + man raising himself to look over a board fence, if it were not for the + extraordinary gymnastics of the boat. The correspondent marvelled that the + captain could still hold to it. + </p> + <p> + They passed on, nearer to shore—the oiler, the cook, the captain—and + following them went the water-jar, bouncing gaily over the seas. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent remained in the grip of this strange new enemy—a + current. The shore, with its white slope of sand and its green bluff, + topped with little silent cottages, was spread like a picture before him. + It was very near to him then, but he was impressed as one who in a gallery + looks at a scene from Brittany or Holland. + </p> + <p> + He thought: "I am going to drown? Can it be possible Can it be possible? + Can it be possible?" Perhaps an individual must consider his own death to + be the final phenomenon of nature. + </p> + <p> + But later a wave perhaps whirled him out of this small, deadly current, + for he found suddenly that he could again make progress toward the shore. + Later still, he was aware that the captain, clinging with one hand to the + keel of the dingey, had his face turned away from the shore and toward + him, and was calling his name. "Come to the boat! Come to the boat!" + </p> + <p> + In his struggle to reach the captain and the boat, he reflected that when + one gets properly wearied, drowning must really be a comfortable + arrangement, a cessation of hostilities accompanied by a large degree of + relief, and he was glad of it, for the main thing in his mind for some + months had been horror of the temporary agony. He did not wish to be hurt. + </p> + <p> + Presently he saw a man running along the shore. He was undressing with + most remarkable speed. Coat, trousers, shirt, everything flew magically + off him. + </p> + <p> + "Come to the boat," called the captain. + </p> + <p> + "All right, captain." As the correspondent paddled, he saw the captain let + himself down to bottom and leave the boat. Then the correspondent + performed his one little marvel of the voyage. A large wave caught him and + flung him with ease and supreme speed completely over the boat and far + beyond it. It struck him even then as an event in gymnastics, and a true + miracle of the sea. An over-turned boat in the surf is not a plaything to + a swimming man. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent arrived in water that reached only to his waist, but his + condition did not enable him to stand for more than a moment. Each wave + knocked him into a heap, and the under-tow pulled at him. + </p> + <p> + Then he saw the man who had been running and undressing, and undressing + and running, come bounding into the water. He dragged ashore the cook, and + then waded towards the captain, but the captain waved him away, and sent + him to the correspondent. He was naked, naked as a tree in winter, but a + halo was about his head, and he shone like a saint. He gave a strong pull, + and a long drag, and a bully heave at the correspondent's hand. The + correspondent, schooled in the minor formulae, said: "Thanks, old man." + But suddenly the man cried: "What's that?" He pointed a swift finger. The + correspondent said: "Go." + </p> + <p> + In the shallows, face downward, lay the oiler. His forehead touched sand + that was periodically, between each wave, clear of the sea. + </p> + <p> + The correspondent did not know all that transpired afterward. When he + achieved safe ground he fell, striking the sand with each particular part + of his body. It was as if he had dropped from a roof, but the thud was + grateful to him. + </p> + <p> + It seems that instantly the beach was populated with men with blankets, + clothes, and flasks, and women with coffeepots and all the remedies sacred + to their minds. The welcome of the land to the men from the sea was warm + and generous, but a still and dripping shape was carried slowly up the + beach, and the land's welcome for it could only be the different and + sinister hospitality of the grave. + </p> + <p> + When it came night, the white waves paced to and fro in the moonlight, and + the wind brought the sound of the great sea's voice to the men on shore, + and they felt that they could then be interpreters. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE RELUCTANT VOYAGERS + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + Two men sat by the sea waves. + </h3> + <p> + "Well, I know I'm not handsome," said one gloomily. He was poking holes in + the sand with a discontented cane. + </p> + <p> + The companion was watching the waves play. He seemed overcome with + perspiring discomfort as a man who is resolved to set another man right. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly his mouth turned into a straight line. + </p> + <p> + "To be sure you are not," he cried vehemently. + </p> + <p> + "You look like thunder. I do not desire to be unpleasant, but I must + assure you that your freckled skin continually reminds spectators of white + wall paper with gilt roses on it. The top of your head looks like a little + wooden plate. And your figure—heavens!" + </p> + <p> + For a time they were silent. They stared at the waves that purred near + their feet like sleepy sea-kittens. + </p> + <p> + Finally the first man spoke. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said he, defiantly, "what of it?" + </p> + <p> + "What of it?" exploded the other. "Why, it means that you'd look like + blazes in a bathing-suit." + </p> + <p> + They were again silent. The freckled man seemed ashamed. His tall + companion glowered at the scenery. + </p> + <p> + "I am decided," said the freckled man suddenly. He got boldly up from the + sand and strode away. The tall man followed, walking sarcastically and + glaring down at the round, resolute figure before him. + </p> + <p> + A bath-clerk was looking at the world with superior eyes through a hole in + a board. To him the freckled man made application, waving his hands over + his person in illustration of a snug fit. The bath-clerk thought + profoundly. Eventually, he handed out a blue bundle with an air of having + phenomenally solved the freckled man's dimensions. + </p> + <p> + The latter resumed his resolute stride. + </p> + <p> + "See here," said the tall man, following him, "I bet you've got a regular + toga, you know. That fellow couldn't tell—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, he could," interrupted the freckled man, "I saw correct mathematics + in his eyes." + </p> + <p> + "Well, supposin' he has missed your size. Supposin'—" + </p> + <p> + "Tom," again interrupted the other, "produce your proud clothes and we'll + go in." + </p> + <p> + The tall man swore bitterly. He went to one of a row of little wooden + boxes and shut himself in it. His companion repaired to a similar box. + </p> + <p> + At first he felt like an opulent monk in a too-small cell, and he turned + round two or three times to see if he could. He arrived finally into his + bathing-dress. Immediately he dropped gasping upon a three-cornered bench. + The suit fell in folds about his reclining form. There was silence, save + for the caressing calls of the waves without. + </p> + <p> + Then he heard two shoes drop on the floor in one of the little coops. He + began to clamor at the boards like a penitent at an unforgiving door. + </p> + <p> + "Tom," called he, "Tom—" + </p> + <p> + A voice of wrath, muffled by cloth, came through the walls. "You go t' + blazes!" + </p> + <p> + The freckled man began to groan, taking the occupants of the entire row of + coops into his confidence. + </p> + <p> + "Stop your noise," angrily cried the tall man from his hidden den. "You + rented the bathing-suit, didn't you? Then—" + </p> + <p> + "It ain't a bathing-suit," shouted the freckled man at the boards. "It's + an auditorium, a ballroom, or something. It isn't a bathing-suit." + </p> + <p> + The tall man came out of his box. His suit looked like blue skin. He + walked with grandeur down the alley between the rows of coops. Stopping in + front of his friend's door, he rapped on it with passionate knuckles. + </p> + <p> + "Come out of there, y' ol' fool," said he, in an enraged whisper. "It's + only your accursed vanity. Wear it anyhow. What difference does it make? I + never saw such a vain ol' idiot!" + </p> + <p> + As he was storming the door opened, and his friend confronted him. The + tall man's legs gave way, and he fell against the opposite door. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man regarded him sternly. + </p> + <p> + "You're an ass," he said. + </p> + <p> + His back curved in scorn. He walked majestically down the alley. There was + pride in the way his chubby feet patted the boards. The tall man followed, + weakly, his eyes riveted upon the figure ahead. + </p> + <p> + As a disguise the freckled man had adopted the stomach of importance. He + moved with an air of some sort of procession, across a board walk, down + some steps, and out upon the sand. + </p> + <p> + There was a pug dog and three old women on a bench, a man and a maid with + a book and a parasol, a seagull drifting high in the wind, and a distant, + tremendous meeting of sea and sky. Down on the wet sand stood a girl being + wooed by the breakers. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man moved with stately tread along the beach. The tall man, + numb with amazement, came in the rear. They neared the girl. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the tall man was seized with convulsions. He laughed, and the + girl turned her head. + </p> + <p> + She perceived the freckled man in the bathing-suit. An expression of + wonderment overspread her charming face. It changed in a moment to a + pearly smile. + </p> + <p> + This smile seemed to smite the freckled man. He obviously tried to swell + and fit his suit. Then he turned a shrivelling glance upon his companion, + and fled up the beach. The tall man ran after him, pursuing with mocking + cries that tingled his flesh like stings of insects. He seemed to be + trying to lead the way out of the world. But at last he stopped and faced + about. + </p> + <p> + "Tom Sharp," said he, between his clenched teeth, "you are an unutterable + wretch! I could grind your bones under my heel." + </p> + <p> + The tall man was in a trance, with glazed eyes fixed on the bathing-dress. + He seemed to be murmuring: "Oh, good Lord! Oh, good Lord! I never saw such + a suit!" + </p> + <p> + The freckled man made the gesture of an assassin. + </p> + <p> + "Tom Sharp, you—" + </p> + <p> + The other was still murmuring: "Oh, good Lord! I never saw such a suit! I + never—" + </p> + <p> + The freckled man ran down into the sea. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The cool, swirling waters took his temper from him, and it became a thing + that is lost in the ocean. The tall man floundered in, and the two forgot + and rollicked in the waves. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man, in endeavoring to escape from mankind, had left all save + a solitary fisherman under a large hat, and three boys in bathing-dress, + laughing and splashing upon a raft made of old spars. + </p> + <p> + The two men swam softly over the ground swells. + </p> + <p> + The three boys dived from their raft, and turned their jolly faces + shorewards. It twisted slowly around and around, and began to move seaward + on some unknown voyage. The freckled man laid his face to the water and + swam toward the raft with a practised stroke. The tall man followed, his + bended arm appearing and disappearing with the precision of machinery. + </p> + <p> + The craft crept away, slowly and wearily, as if luring. The little wooden + plate on the freckled man's head looked at the shore like a round, brown + eye, but his gaze was fixed on the raft that slyly appeared to be waiting. + The tall man used the little wooden plate as a beacon. + </p> + <p> + At length the freckled man reached the raft and climbed aboard. He lay + down on his back and puffed. His bathing-dress spread about him like a + dead balloon. The tall man came, snorted, shook his tangled locks and lay + down by the side of his companion. + </p> + <p> + They were overcome with a delicious drowsiness. The planks of the raft + seemed to fit their tired limbs. They gazed dreamily up into the vast sky + of summer. + </p> + <p> + "This is great," said the tall man. His companion grunted blissfully. + </p> + <p> + Gentle hands from the sea rocked their craft and lulled them to peace. + Lapping waves sang little rippling sea-songs about them. The two men + issued contented groans. + </p> + <p> + "Tom," said the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "What?" said the other. + </p> + <p> + "This is great." + </p> + <p> + They lay and thought. + </p> + <p> + A fish-hawk, soaring, suddenly, turned and darted at the waves. The tall + man indolently twisted his head and watched the bird plunge its claws into + the water. It heavily arose with a silver gleaming fish. + </p> + <p> + "That bird has got his feet wet again. It's a shame," murmured the tall + man sleepily. "He must suffer from an endless cold in the head. He should + wear rubber boots. They'd look great, too. If I was him, I'd—Great + Scott!" + </p> + <p> + He had partly arisen, and was looking at the shore. + </p> + <p> + He began to scream. "Ted! Ted! Ted! Look!" + </p> + <p> + "What's matter?" dreamily spoke the freckled man. "You remind me of when I + put the bird-shot in your leg." He giggled softly. + </p> + <p> + The agitated tall man made a gesture of supreme eloquence. His companion + up-reared and turned a startled gaze shoreward. + </p> + <p> + "Lord!" he roared, as if stabbed. + </p> + <p> + The land was a long, brown streak with a rim of green, in which sparkled + the tin roofs of huge hotels. The hands from the sea had pushed them away. + The two men sprang erect, and did a little dance of perturbation. + </p> + <p> + "What shall we do? What shall we do?" moaned the freckled man, wriggling + fantastically in his dead balloon. + </p> + <p> + The changing shore seemed to fascinate the tall man, and for a time he did + not speak. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he concluded his minuet of horror. He wheeled about and faced the + freckled man. He elaborately folded his arms. + </p> + <p> + "So," he said, in slow, formidable tones. "So! This all comes from your + accursed vanity, your bathing-suit, your idiocy; you have murdered your + best friend." + </p> + <p> + He turned away. His companion reeled as if stricken by an unexpected arm. + </p> + <p> + He stretched out his hands. "Tom, Tom," wailed he, beseechingly, "don't be + such a fool." + </p> + <p> + The broad back of his friend was occupied by a contemptuous sneer. + </p> + <p> + Three ships fell off the horizon. Landward, the hues were blending. The + whistle of a locomotive sounded from an infinite distance as if tooting in + heaven. + </p> + <p> + "Tom! Tom! My dear boy," quavered the freckled man, "don't speak that way + to me." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, no, of course not," said the other, still facing away and throwing + the words over his shoulder. "You suppose I am going to accept all this + calmly, don't you? Not make the slightest objection? Make no protest at + all, hey?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, I—I——" began the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + The tall man's wrath suddenly exploded. "You've abducted me! That's the + whole amount of it! You've abducted me!" + </p> + <p> + "I ain't," protested the freckled man. "You must think I'm a fool." + </p> + <p> + The tall man swore, and sitting down, dangled his legs angrily in the + water. Natural law compelled his companion to occupy the other end of the + raft. + </p> + <p> + Over the waters little shoals of fish spluttered, raising tiny tempests. + Languid jelly-fish floated near, tremulously waving a thousand legs. A row + of porpoises trundled along like a procession of cog-wheels. The sky + became greyed save where over the land sunset colors were assembling. + </p> + <p> + The two voyagers, back to back and at either end of the raft, quarrelled + at length. + </p> + <p> + "What did you want to follow me for?" demanded the freckled man in a voice + of indignation. + </p> + <p> + "If your figure hadn't been so like a bottle, we wouldn't be here," + replied the tall man. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + The fires in the west blazed away, and solemnity spread over the sea. + Electric lights began to blink like eyes. Night menaced the voyagers with + a dangerous darkness, and fear came to bind their souls together. They + huddled fraternally in the middle of the raft. + </p> + <p> + "I feel like a molecule," said the freckled man in subdued tones. + </p> + <p> + "I'd give two dollars for a cigar," muttered the tall man. + </p> + <p> + A V-shaped flock of ducks flew towards Barnegat, between the voyagers and + a remnant of yellow sky. Shadows and winds came from the vanished eastern + horizon. + </p> + <p> + "I think I hear voices," said the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "That Dollie Ramsdell was an awfully nice girl," said the tall man. + </p> + <p> + When the coldness of the sea night came to them, the freckled man found he + could by a peculiar movement of his legs and arms encase himself in his + bathing-dress. The tall man was compelled to whistle and shiver. As night + settled finally over the sea, red and green lights began to dot the + blackness. There were mysterious shadows between the waves. + </p> + <p> + "I see things comin'," murmured the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "I wish I hadn't ordered that new dress-suit for the hop to-morrow night," + said the tall man reflectively. + </p> + <p> + The sea became uneasy and heaved painfully, like a lost bosom, when little + forgotten heart-bells try to chime with a pure sound. The voyagers cringed + at magnified foam on distant wave crests. A moon came and looked at them. + </p> + <p> + "Somebody's here," whispered the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "I wish I had an almanac," remarked the tall man, regarding the moon. + </p> + <p> + Presently they fell to staring at the red and green lights that twinkled + about them. + </p> + <p> + "Providence will not leave us," asserted the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, we'll be picked up shortly. I owe money," said the tall man. + </p> + <p> + He began to thrum on an imaginary banjo. + </p> + <p> + "I have heard," said he, suddenly, "that captains with healthy ships + beneath their feet will never turn back after having once started on a + voyage. In that case we will be rescued by some ship bound for the golden + seas of the south. Then, you'll be up to some of your confounded devilment + and we'll get put off. They'll maroon us! That's what they'll do! They'll + maroon us! On an island with palm trees and sun-kissed maidens and all + that. Sun-kissed maidens, eh? Great! They'd—" + </p> + <p> + He suddenly ceased and turned to stone. At a distance a great, green eye + was contemplating the sea wanderers. + </p> + <p> + They stood up and did another dance. As they watched the eye grew larger. + </p> + <p> + Directly the form of a phantom-like ship came into view. About the great, + green eye there bobbed small yellow dots. The wanderers could hear a + far-away creaking of unseen tackle and flapping of shadowy sails. There + came the melody of the waters as the ship's prow thrust its way. + </p> + <p> + The tall man delivered an oration. + </p> + <p> + "Ha!" he exclaimed, "here come our rescuers. The brave fellows! How I long + to take the manly captain by the hand! You will soon see a white boat with + a star on its bow drop from the side of yon ship. Kind sailors in blue and + white will help us into the boat and conduct our wasted frames to the + quarter-deck, where the handsome, bearded captain, with gold bands all + around, will welcome us. Then in the hard-oak cabin, while the wine + gurgles and the Havanas glow, we'll tell our tale of peril and privation." + </p> + <p> + The ship came on like a black hurrying animal with froth-filled maw. The + two wanderers stood up and clasped hands. Then they howled out a wild duet + that rang over the wastes of sea. + </p> + <p> + The cries seemed to strike the ship. + </p> + <p> + Men with boots on yelled and ran about the deck. They picked up heavy + articles and threw them down. They yelled more. After hideous creakings + and flappings, the vessel stood still. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the wanderers had been chanting their song for help. Out + in the blackness they beckoned to the ship and coaxed. + </p> + <p> + A voice came to them. + </p> + <p> + "Hello," it said. + </p> + <p> + They puffed out their cheeks and began to shout. "Hello! Hello! Hello!" + </p> + <p> + "Wot do yeh want?" said the voice. + </p> + <p> + The two wanderers gazed at each other, and sat suddenly down on the raft. + Some pall came sweeping over the sky and quenched their stars. + </p> + <p> + But almost the tall man got up and brawled miscellaneous information. He + stamped his foot, and frowning into the night, swore threateningly. + </p> + <p> + The vessel seemed fearful of these moaning voices that called from a + hidden cavern of the water. And now one voice was filled with a menace. A + number of men with enormous limbs that threw vast shadows over the sea as + the lanterns flickered, held a debate and made gestures. + </p> + <p> + Off in the darkness, the tall man began to clamor like a mob. The freckled + man sat in astounded silence, with his legs weak. + </p> + <p> + After a time one of the men of enormous limbs seized a rope that was + tugging at the stem and drew a small boat from the shadows. Three giants + clambered in and rowed cautiously toward the raft. Silver water flashed in + the gloom as the oars dipped. + </p> + <p> + About fifty feet from the raft the boat stopped. "Who er you?" asked a + voice. + </p> + <p> + The tall man braced himself and explained. He drew vivid pictures, his + twirling fingers illustrating like live brushes. + </p> + <p> + "Oh," said the three giants. + </p> + <p> + The voyagers deserted the raft. They looked back, feeling in their hearts + a mite of tenderness for the wet planks. Later, they wriggled up the side + of the vessel and climbed over the railing. + </p> + <p> + On deck they met a man. + </p> + <p> + He held a lantern to their faces. "Got any chewin' tewbacca?" he inquired. + </p> + <p> + "No," said the tall man, "we ain't." + </p> + <p> + The man had a bronze face and solitary whiskers. Peculiar lines about his + mouth were shaped into an eternal smile of derision. His feet were bare, + and clung handily to crevices. + </p> + <p> + Fearful trousers were supported by a piece of suspender that went up the + wrong side of his chest and came down the right side of his back, dividing + him into triangles. + </p> + <p> + "Ezekiel P. Sanford, capt'in, schooner 'Mary Jones,' of N'yack, N. Y., + genelmen," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" said the tall man, "delighted, I'm sure." + </p> + <p> + There were a few moments of silence. The giants were hovering in the gloom + and staring. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly astonishment exploded the captain. + </p> + <p> + "Wot th' devil——" he shouted. "Wot th' devil yeh got on?" + </p> + <p> + "Bathing-suits," said the tall man. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + The schooner went on. The two voyagers sat down and watched. After a time + they began to shiver. The soft blackness of the summer night passed away, + and grey mists writhed over the sea. Soon lights of early dawn went + changing across the sky, and the twin beacons on the highlands grew dim + and sparkling faintly, as if a monster were dying. The dawn penetrated the + marrow of the two men in bathing-dress. + </p> + <p> + The captain used to pause opposite them, hitch one hand in his suspender, + and laugh. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I be dog-hanged," he frequently said. + </p> + <p> + The tall man grew furious. He snarled in a mad undertone to his companion. + "This rescue ain't right. If I had known—" + </p> + <p> + He suddenly paused, transfixed by the captain's suspender. "It's goin' to + break," cried he, in an ecstatic whisper. His eyes grew large with + excitement as he watched the captain laugh. "It'll break in a minute, + sure." + </p> + <p> + But the commander of the schooner recovered, and invited them to drink and + eat. They followed him along the deck, and fell down a square black hole + into the cabin. + </p> + <p> + It was a little den, with walls of a vanished whiteness. A lamp shed an + orange light. In a sort of recess two little beds were hiding. A wooden + table, immovable, as if the craft had been builded around it, sat in the + middle of the floor. Overhead the square hole was studded with a dozen + stars. A foot-worn ladder led to the heavens. + </p> + <p> + The captain produced ponderous crackers and some cold broiled ham. Then he + vanished in the firmament like a fantastic comet. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man sat quite contentedly like a stout squaw in a blanket. + The tall man walked about the cabin and sniffed. He was angered at the + crudeness of the rescue, and his shrinking clothes made him feel too + large. He contemplated his unhappy state. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, he broke out. "I won't stand this, I tell you! Heavens and + earth, look at the—say, what in the blazes did you want to get me in + this thing for, anyhow? You're a fine old duffer, you are! Look at that + ham!" + </p> + <p> + The freckled man grunted. He seemed somewhat blissful. He was seated upon + a bench, comfortably enwrapped in his bathing-dress. + </p> + <p> + The tall man stormed about the cabin. + </p> + <p> + "This is an outrage! I'll see the captain! I'll tell him what I think of—" + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by a pair of legs that appeared among the stars. The + captain came down the ladder. He brought a coffee pot from the sky. + </p> + <p> + The tall man bristled forward. He was going to denounce everything. + </p> + <p> + The captain was intent upon the coffee pot, balancing it carefully, and + leaving his unguided feet to find the steps of the ladder. + </p> + <p> + But the wrath of the tall man faded. He twirled his fingers in excitement, + and renewed his ecstatic whisperings to the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "It's going to break! Look, quick, look! It'll break in a minute!" + </p> + <p> + He was transfixed with interest, forgetting his wrongs in staring at the + perilous passage. + </p> + <p> + But the captain arrived on the floor with triumphant suspenders. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said he, "after yeh have eat, maybe ye'd like t'sleep some! If so, + yeh can sleep on them beds." + </p> + <p> + The tall man made no reply, save in a strained undertone. "It'll break in + about a minute! Look, Ted, look quick!" + </p> + <p> + The freckled man glanced in a little bed on which were heaped boots and + oilskins. He made a courteous gesture. + </p> + <p> + "My dear sir, we could not think of depriving you of your beds. No, + indeed. Just a couple of blankets if you have them, and we'll sleep very + comfortable on these benches." + </p> + <p> + The captain protested, politely twisting his back and bobbing his head. + The suspenders tugged and creaked. The tall man partially suppressed a + cry, and took a step forward. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man was sleepily insistent, and shortly the captain gave over + his deprecatory contortions. He fetched a pink quilt with yellow dots on + it to the freckled man, and a black one with red roses on it to the tall + man. + </p> + <p> + Again he vanished in the firmament. The tall man gazed until the last + remnant of trousers disappeared from the sky. Then he wrapped himself up + in his quilt and lay down. The freckled man was puffing contentedly, + swathed like an infant. The yellow polka-dots rose and fell on the vast + pink of his chest. + </p> + <p> + The wanderers slept. In the quiet could be heard the groanings of timbers + as the sea seemed to crunch them together. The lapping of water along the + vessel's side sounded like gaspings. A hundred spirits of the wind had got + their wings entangled in the rigging, and, in soft voices, were pleading + to be loosened. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man was awakened by a foreign noise. He opened his eyes and + saw his companion standing by his couch. + </p> + <p> + His comrade's face was wan with suffering. His eyes glowed in the + darkness. He raised his arms, spreading them out like a clergyman at a + grave. He groaned deep in his chest. + </p> + <p> + "Good Lord!" yelled the freckled man, starting up. "Tom, Tom, what's th' + matter?" + </p> + <p> + The tall man spoke in a fearful voice. "To New York," he said, "to New + York in our bathing-suits." + </p> + <p> + The freckled man sank back. The shadows of the cabin threw mysteries about + the figure of the tall man, arrayed like some ancient and potent + astrologer in the black quilt with the red roses on it. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + Directly the tall man went and lay down and began to groan. + </h3> + <p> + The freckled man felt the miseries of the world upon him. He grew angry at + the tall man awakening him. They quarrelled. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said the tall man, finally, "we're in a fix." + </p> + <p> + "I know that," said the other, sharply. + </p> + <p> + They regarded the ceiling in silence. + </p> + <p> + "What in the thunder are we going to do?" demanded the tall man, after a + time. His companion was still silent. "Say," repeated he, angrily, "what + in the thunder are we going to do?" + </p> + <p> + "I'm sure I don't know," said the freckled man in a dismal voice. + </p> + <p> + "Well, think of something," roared the other. "Think of something, you old + fool. You don't want to make any more idiots of yourself, do you?" + </p> + <p> + "I ain't made an idiot of myself." + </p> + <p> + "Well, think. Know anybody in the city?" + </p> + <p> + "I know a fellow up in Harlem," said the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "You know a fellow up in Harlem," howled the tall man. "Up in Harlem! How + the dickens are we to—say, you're crazy!" + </p> + <p> + "We can take a cab," cried the other, waxing indignant. + </p> + <p> + The tall man grew suddenly calm. "Do you know any one else?" he asked, + measuredly. + </p> + <p> + "I know another fellow somewhere on Park Place." + </p> + <p> + "Somewhere on Park Place," repeated the tall man in an unnatural manner. + "Somewhere on Park Place." With an air of sublime resignation he turned + his face to the wall. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man sat erect and frowned in the direction of his companion. + "Well, now, I suppose you are going to sulk. You make me ill! It's the + best we can do, ain't it? Hire a cab and go look that fellow up on Park—What's + that? You can't afford it? What nonsense! You are getting—Oh! Well, + maybe we can beg some clothes of the captain. Eh? Did I see 'im? + Certainly, I saw 'im. Yes, it is improbable that a man who wears trousers + like that can have clothes to lend. No, I won't wear oilskins and a + sou'-wester. To Athens? Of course not! I don't know where it is. Do you? I + thought not. With all your grumbling about other people, you never know + anything important yourself. What? Broadway? I'll be hanged first. We can + get off at Harlem, man alive. There are no cabs in Harlem. I don't think + we can bribe a sailor to take us ashore and bring a cab to the dock, for + the very simple reason that we have nothing to bribe him with. What? No, + of course not. See here, Tom Sharp, don't you swear at me like that. I + won't have it. What's that? I ain't, either. I ain't. What? I am not. It's + no such thing. I ain't. I've got more than you have, anyway. Well, you + ain't doing anything so very brilliant yourself—just lying there and + cussin'." At length the tall man feigned prodigiously to snore. The + freckled man thought with such vigor that he fell asleep. + </p> + <p> + After a time he dreamed that he was in a forest where bass drums grew on + trees. There came a strong wind that banged the fruit about like empty + pods. A frightful din was in his ears. + </p> + <p> + He awoke to find the captain of the schooner standing over him. + </p> + <p> + "We're at New York now," said the captain, raising his voice above the + thumping and banging that was being done on deck, "an' I s'pose you + fellers wanta go ashore." He chuckled in an exasperating manner. "Jes' + sing out when yeh wanta go," he added, leering at the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + The tall man awoke, came over and grasped the captain by the throat. + </p> + <p> + "If you laugh again I'll kill you," he said. + </p> + <p> + The captain gurgled and waved his legs and arms. + </p> + <p> + "In the first place," the tall man continued, "you rescued us in a + deucedly shabby manner. It makes me ill to think of it. I've a mind to mop + you 'round just for that. In the second place, your vessel is bound for + Athens, N. Y., and there's no sense in it. Now, will you or will you not + turn this ship about and take us back where our clothes are, or to + Philadelphia, where we belong?" + </p> + <p> + He furiously shook the captain. Then he eased his grip and awaited a + reply. + </p> + <p> + "I can't," yelled the captain, "I can't. This vessel don't belong to me. + I've got to—" + </p> + <p> + "Well, then," interrupted the tall man, "can you lend us some clothes?" + </p> + <p> + "Hain't got none," replied the captain, promptly. His face was red, and + his eyes were glaring. + </p> + <p> + "Well, then," said the tall man, "can you lend us some money?" + </p> + <p> + "Hain't got none," replied the captain, promptly. Something overcame him + and he laughed. + </p> + <p> + "Thunderation," roared the tall man. He seized the captain, who began to + have wriggling contortions. The tall man kneaded him as if he were + biscuits. "You infernal scoundrel," he bellowed, "this whole affair is + some wretched plot, and you are in it. I am about to kill you." + </p> + <p> + The solitary whisker of the captain did acrobatic feats like a strange + demon upon his chin. His eyes stood perilously from his head. The + suspender wheezed and tugged like the tackle of a sail. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the tall man released his hold. Great expectancy sat upon his + features. "It's going to break!" he cried, rubbing his hands. + </p> + <p> + But the captain howled and vanished in the sky. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man then came forward. He appeared filled with sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + "So!" said he. "So, you've settled the matter. The captain is the only man + in the world who can help us, and I daresay he'll do anything he can now." + </p> + <p> + "That's all right," said the tall man. "If you don't like the way I run + things you shouldn't have come on this trip at all." + </p> + <p> + They had another quarrel. + </p> + <p> + At the end of it they went on deck. The captain stood at the stern + addressing the bow with opprobrious language. When he perceived the + voyagers he began to fling his fists about in the air. + </p> + <p> + "I'm goin' to put yeh off!" he yelled. The wanderers stared at each other. + </p> + <p> + "Hum," said the tall man. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man looked at his companion. "He's going to put us off, you + see," he said, complacently. + </p> + <p> + The tall man began to walk about and move his shoulders. "I'd like to see + you do it," he said, defiantly. + </p> + <p> + The captain tugged at a rope. A boat came at his bidding. + </p> + <p> + "I'd like to see you do it," the tall man repeated, continually. An + imperturbable man in rubber boots climbed down in the boat and seized the + oars. The captain motioned downward. His whisker had a triumphant + appearance. + </p> + <p> + The two wanderers looked at the boat. "I guess we'll have to get in," + murmured the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + The tall man was standing like a granite column. "I won't," said he. "I + won't! I don't care what you do, but I won't!" + </p> + <p> + "Well, but—" expostulated the other. They held a furious debate. + </p> + <p> + In the meantime the captain was darting about making sinister gestures, + but the back of the tall man held him at bay. The crew, much depleted by + the departure of the imperturbable man into the boat, looked on from the + bow. + </p> + <p> + "You're a fool," the freckled man concluded his argument. + </p> + <p> + "So?" inquired the tall man, highly exasperated. + </p> + <p> + "So! Well, if you think you're so bright, we'll go in the boat, and then + you'll see." + </p> + <p> + He climbed down into the craft and seated himself in an ominous manner at + the stern. + </p> + <p> + "You'll see," he said to his companion, as the latter floundered heavily + down. "You'll see!" + </p> + <p> + The man in rubber boots calmly rowed the boat toward the shore. As they + went, the captain leaned over the railing and laughed. The freckled man + was seated very victoriously. + </p> + <p> + "Well, wasn't this the right thing after all?" he inquired in a pleasant + voice. The tall man made no reply. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + As they neared the dock something seemed suddenly to occur to the freckled + man. + </p> + <p> + "Great heavens!" he murmured. He stared at the approaching shore. + </p> + <p> + "My, what a plight, Tommy!" he quavered. + </p> + <p> + "Do you think so?" spoke up the tall man. "Why, I really thought you liked + it." He laughed in a hard voice. "Lord, what a figure you'll cut." + </p> + <p> + This laugh jarred the freckled man's soul. He became mad. + </p> + <p> + "Thunderation, turn the boat around!" he roared. "Turn 'er round, quick! + Man alive, we can't—turn 'er round, d'ye hear!" + </p> + <p> + The tall man in the stern gazed at his companion with glowing eyes. + </p> + <p> + "Certainly not," he said. "We're going on. You insisted Upon it." He began + to prod his companion with words. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man stood up and waved his arms. + </p> + <p> + "Sit down," said the tall man. "You'll tip the boat over." + </p> + <p> + The other man began to shout. + </p> + <p> + "Sit down!" said the tall man again. + </p> + <p> + Words bubbled from the freckled man's mouth. There was a little torrent of + sentences that almost choked him. And he protested passionately with his + hands. + </p> + <p> + But the boat went on to the shadow of the docks. The tall man was intent + upon balancing it as it rocked dangerously during his comrade's oration. + </p> + <p> + "Sit down," he continually repeated. + </p> + <p> + "I won't," raged the freckled man. "I won't do anything." The boat wobbled + with these words. + </p> + <p> + "Say," he continued, addressing the oarsman, "just turn this boat round, + will you? Where in the thunder are you taking us to, anyhow?" + </p> + <p> + The oarsman looked at the sky and thought. Finally he spoke. "I'm doin' + what the cap'n sed." + </p> + <p> + "Well, what in th' blazes do I care what the cap'n sed?" demanded the + freckled man. He took a violent step. "You just turn this round or—" + </p> + <p> + The small craft reeled. Over one side water came flashing in. The freckled + man cried out in fear, and gave a jump to the other side. The tall man + roared orders, and the oarsman made efforts. The boat acted for a moment + like an animal on a slackened wire. Then it upset. + </p> + <p> + "Sit down!" said the tall man, in a final roar as he was plunged into the + water. The oarsman dropped his oars to grapple with the gunwale. He went + down saying unknown words. The freckled man's explanation or apology was + strangled by the water. + </p> + <p> + Two or three tugs let off whistles of astonishment, and continued on their + paths. A man dozing on a dock aroused and began to caper. + </p> + <p> + The passengers on a ferry-boat all ran to the near railing. A miraculous + person in a small boat was bobbing on the waves near the piers. He sculled + hastily toward the scene. It was a swirl of waters in the midst of which + the dark bottom of the boat appeared, whale-like. + </p> + <p> + Two heads suddenly came up. + </p> + <p> + "839," said the freckled man, chokingly. "That's it! 839!" + </p> + <p> + "What is?" said the tall man. + </p> + <p> + "That's the number of that feller on Park Place. I just remembered." + </p> + <p> + "You're the bloomingest—" the tall man said. + </p> + <p> + "It wasn't my fault," interrupted his companion. "If you hadn't—" He + tried to gesticulate, but one hand held to the keel of the boat, and the + other was supporting the form of the oarsman. The latter had fought a + battle with his immense rubber boots and had been conquered. + </p> + <p> + The rescuer in the other small boat came fiercely. As his craft glided up, + he reached out and grasped the tall man by the collar and dragged him into + the boat, interrupting what was, under the circumstances, a very brilliant + flow of rhetoric directed at the freckled man. The oarsman of the wrecked + craft was taken tenderly over the gunwale and laid in the bottom of the + boat. Puffing and blowing, the freckled man climbed in. + </p> + <p> + "You'll upset this one before we can get ashore," the other voyager + remarked. + </p> + <p> + As they turned toward the land they saw that the nearest dock was lined + with people. The freckled man gave a little moan. + </p> + <p> + But the staring eyes of the crowd were fixed on the limp form of the man + in rubber boots. A hundred hands reached down to help lift the body up. On + the dock some men grabbed it and began to beat it and roll it. A policeman + tossed the spectators about. Each individual in the heaving crowd sought + to fasten his eyes on the blue-tinted face of the man in the rubber boots. + They surged to and fro, while the policeman beat them indiscriminately. + </p> + <p> + The wanderers came modestly up the dock and gazed shrinkingly at the + throng. They stood for a moment, holding their breath to see the first + finger of amazement levelled at them. + </p> + <p> + But the crowd bended and surged in absorbing anxiety to view the man in + rubber boots, whose face fascinated them. The sea-wanderers were as though + they were not there. + </p> + <p> + They stood without the jam and whispered hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + "839," said the freckled man. + </p> + <p> + "All right," said the tall man. + </p> + <p> + Under the pommeling hands the oarsman showed signs of life. The voyagers + watched him make a protesting kick at the leg of the crowd, the while + uttering angry groans. + </p> + <p> + "He's better," said the tall man, softly; "let's make off." + </p> + <p> + Together they stole noiselessly up the dock. Directly in front of it they + found a row of six cabs. + </p> + <p> + The drivers on top were filled with a mighty curiosity. They had driven + hurriedly from the adjacent ferry-house when they had seen the first + running sign of an accident. They were straining on their toes and gazing + at the tossing backs of the men in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + The wanderers made a little detour, and then went rapidly towards a cab. + They stopped in front of it and looked up. + </p> + <p> + "Driver," called the tall man, softly. + </p> + <p> + The man was intent. + </p> + <p> + "Driver," breathed the freckled man. They stood for a moment and gazed + imploringly. + </p> + <p> + The cabman suddenly moved his feet. "By Jimmy, I bet he's a gonner," he + said, in an ecstacy, and he again relapsed into a statue. + </p> + <p> + The freckled man groaned and wrung his hands. The tall man climbed into + the cab. + </p> + <p> + "Come in here," he said to his companion. The freckled man climbed in, and + the tall man reached over and pulled the door shut. Then he put his head + out the window. + </p> + <p> + "Driver," he roared, sternly, "839 Park Place—and quick." + </p> + <p> + The driver looked down and met the eye of the tall man. "Eh?—Oh—839? + Park Place? Yessir." He reluctantly gave his horse a clump on the back. As + the conveyance rattled off the wanderers huddled back among the dingy + cushions and heaved great breaths of relief. + </p> + <p> + "Well, it's all over," said the freckled man, finally. "We're about out of + it. And quicker than I expected. Much quicker. It looked to me sometimes + that we were doomed. I am thankful to find it not so. I am rejoiced. And I + hope and trust that you—well, I don't wish to—perhaps it is + not the proper time to—that is, I don't wish to intrude a moral at + an inopportune moment, but, my dear, dear fellow, I think the time is ripe + to point out to you that your obstinacy, your selfishness, your villainous + temper, and your various other faults can make it just as unpleasant for + your ownself, my dear boy, as they frequently do for other people. You can + see what you brought us to, and I most sincerely hope, my dear, dear + fellow, that I shall soon see those signs in you which shall lead me to + believe that you have become a wiser man." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE END OF THE BATTLE + </h2> + <p> + A sergeant, a corporal, and fourteen men of the Twelfth Regiment of the + Line had been sent out to occupy a house on the main highway. They would + be at least a half of a mile in advance of any other picket of their own + people. Sergeant Morton was deeply angry at being sent on this duty. He + said that he was over-worked. There were at least two sergeants, he + claimed furiously, whose turn it should have been to go on this arduous + mission. He was treated unfairly; he was abused by his superiors; why did + any damned fool ever join the army? As for him he would get out of it as + soon as possible; he was sick of it; the life of a dog. All this he said + to the corporal, who listened attentively, giving grunts of respectful + assent. On the way to this post two privates took occasion to drop to the + rear and pilfer in the orchard of a deserted plantation. When the sergeant + discovered this absence, he grew black with a rage which was an + accumulation of all his irritations. "Run, you!" he howled. "Bring them + here! I'll show them—" A private ran swiftly to the rear. The + remainder of the squad began to shout nervously at the two delinquents, + whose figures they could see in the deep shade of the orchard, hurriedly + picking fruit from the ground and cramming it within their shirts, next to + their skins. The beseeching cries of their comrades stirred the criminals + more than did the barking of the sergeant. They ran to rejoin the squad, + while holding their loaded bosoms and with their mouths open with + aggrieved explanations. + </p> + <p> + Jones faced the sergeant with a horrible cancer marked in bumps on his + left side. The disease of Patterson showed quite around the front of his + waist in many protuberances. "A nice pair!" said the sergeant, with sudden + frigidity. "You're the kind of soldiers a man wants to choose for a + dangerous outpost duty, ain't you?" + </p> + <p> + The two privates stood at attention, still looking much aggrieved. "We + only—" began Jones huskily. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, you 'only!'" cried the sergeant. "Yes, you 'only.' I know all about + that. But if you think you are going to trifle with me—" + </p> + <p> + A moment later the squad moved on towards its station. Behind the + sergeant's back Jones and Patterson were slyly passing apples and pears to + their friends while the sergeant expounded eloquently to the corporal. + "You see what kind of men are in the army now. Why, when I joined the + regiment it was a very different thing, I can tell you. Then a sergeant + had some authority, and if a man disobeyed orders, he had a very small + chance of escaping something extremely serious. But now! Good God! If I + report these men, the captain will look over a lot of beastly orderly + sheets and say—'Haw, eh, well, Sergeant Morton, these men seem to + have very good records; very good records, indeed. I can't be too hard on + them; no, not too hard.'" Continued the sergeant: "I tell you, Flagler, + the army is no place for a decent man." + </p> + <p> + Flagler, the corporal, answered with a sincerity of appreciation which + with him had become a science. "I think you are right, sergeant," he + answered. + </p> + <p> + Behind them the privates mumbled discreetly. "Damn this sergeant of ours. + He thinks we are made of wood. I don't see any reason for all this + strictness when we are on active service. It isn't like being at home in + barracks! There is no great harm in a couple of men dropping out to raid + an orchard of the enemy when all the world knows that we haven't had a + decent meal in twenty days." + </p> + <p> + The reddened face of Sergeant Morton suddenly showed to the rear. "A + little more marching and less talking," he said. + </p> + <p> + When he came to the house he had been ordered to occupy the sergeant + sniffed with disdain. "These people must have lived like cattle," he said + angrily. To be sure, the place was not alluring. The ground floor had been + used for the housing of cattle, and it was dark and terrible. A flight of + steps led to the lofty first floor, which was denuded but respectable. The + sergeant's visage lightened when he saw the strong walls of stone and + cement. "Unless they turn guns on us, they will never get us out of here," + he said cheerfully to the squad. The men, anxious to keep him in an + amiable mood, all hurriedly grinned and seemed very appreciative and + pleased. "I'll make this into a fortress," he announced. He sent Jones and + Patterson, the two orchard thieves, out on sentry-duty. He worked the + others, then, until he could think of no more things to tell them to do. + Afterwards he went forth, with a major-general's serious scowl, and + examined the ground in front of his position. In returning he came upon a + sentry, Jones, munching an apple. He sternly commanded him to throw it + away. + </p> + <p> + The men spread their blankets on the floors of the bare rooms, and putting + their packs under their heads and lighting their pipes, they lived an easy + peace. Bees hummed in the garden, and a scent of flowers came through the + open window. A great fan-shaped bit of sunshine smote the face of one man, + and he indolently cursed as he moved his primitive bed to a shadier place. + </p> + <p> + Another private explained to a comrade: "This is all nonsense anyhow. No + sense in occupying this post. They—" + </p> + <p> + "But, of course," said the corporal, "when she told me herself that she + cared more for me than she did for him, I wasn't going to stand any of his + talk—" The corporal's listener was so sleepy that he could only + grunt his sympathy. + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden little spatter of shooting. A cry from Jones rang out. + With no intermediate scrambling, the sergeant leaped straight to his feet. + "Now," he cried, "let us see what you are made of! If," he added bitterly, + "you are made of anything!" + </p> + <p> + A man yelled: "Good God, can't you see you're all tangled up in my + cartridge belt?" + </p> + <p> + Another man yelled: "Keep off my legs! Can't you walk on the floor?" + </p> + <p> + To the windows there was a blind rush of slumberous men, who brushed hair + from their eyes even as they made ready their rifles. Jones and Patterson + came stumbling up the steps, crying dreadful information. Already the + enemy's bullets were spitting and singing over the house. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant suddenly was stiff and cold with a sense of the importance of + the thing. "Wait until you see one," he drawled loudly and calmly, "then + shoot." + </p> + <p> + For some moments the enemy's bullets swung swifter than lightning over the + house without anybody being able to discover a target. In this interval a + man was shot in the throat. He gurgled, and then lay down on the floor. + The blood slowly waved down the brown skin of his neck while he looked + meekly at his comrades. + </p> + <p> + There was a howl. "There they are! There they come!" The rifles crackled. + A light smoke drifted idly through the rooms. There was a strong odor as + if from burnt paper and the powder of firecrackers. The men were silent. + Through the windows and about the house the bullets of an entirely + invisible enemy moaned, hummed, spat, burst, and sang. + </p> + <p> + The men began to curse. "Why can't we see them?" they muttered through + their teeth. The sergeant was still frigid. He answered soothingly as if + he were directly reprehensible for this behavior of the enemy. "Wait a + moment. You will soon be able to see them. There! Give it to them!" A + little skirt of black figures had appeared in a field. It was really like + shooting at an upright needle from the full length of a ballroom. But the + men's spirits improved as soon as the enemy—this mysterious enemy—became + a tangible thing, and far off. They had believed the foe to be shooting at + them from the adjacent garden. + </p> + <p> + "Now," said the sergeant ambitiously, "we can beat them off easily if you + men are good enough." + </p> + <p> + A man called out in a tone of quick, great interest. "See that fellow on + horseback, Bill? Isn't he on horseback? I thought he was on horseback." + </p> + <p> + There was a fusilade against another side of the house. The sergeant + dashed into the room which commanded the situation. He found a dead + soldier on the floor. He rushed out howling: "When was Knowles killed? + When was Knowles killed? When was Knowles killed? Damn it, when was + Knowles killed?" It was absolutely essential to find out the exact moment + this man died. A blackened private turned upon his sergeant and demanded: + "How in hell do I know?" Sergeant Morton had a sense of anger so brief + that in the next second he cried: "Patterson!" He had even forgotten his + vital interest in the time of Knowles' death. + </p> + <p> + "Yes?" said Patterson, his face set with some deep-rooted quality of + determination. Still, he was a mere farm boy. + </p> + <p> + "Go in to Knowles' window and shoot at those people," said the sergeant + hoarsely. Afterwards he coughed. Some of the fumes of the fight had made + way to his lungs. + </p> + <p> + Patterson looked at the door into this other room. He looked at it as if + he suspected it was to be his death-chamber. Then he entered and stood + across the body of Knowles and fired vigorously into a group of plum + trees. + </p> + <p> + "They can't take this house," declared the sergeant in a contemptuous and + argumentative tone. He was apparently replying to somebody. The man who + had been shot in the throat looked up at him. Eight men were firing from + the windows. The sergeant detected in a corner three wounded men talking + together feebly. "Don't you think there is anything to do?" he bawled. "Go + and get Knowles' cartridges and give them to somebody who can use them! + Take Simpson's too." The man who had been shot in the throat looked at + him. Of the three wounded men who had been talking, one said: "My leg is + all doubled up under me, sergeant." He spoke apologetically. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the sergeant was re-loading his rifle. His foot slipped in the + blood of the man who had been shot in the throat, and the military boot + made a greasy red streak on the floor. + </p> + <p> + "Why, we can hold this place!" shouted the sergeant jubilantly. "Who says + we can't?" + </p> + <p> + Corporal Flagler suddenly spun away from his window and fell in a heap. + </p> + <p> + "Sergeant," murmured a man as he dropped to a seat on the floor out of + danger, "I can't stand this. I swear I can't. I think we should run away." + </p> + <p> + Morton, with the kindly eyes of a good shepherd, looked at the man. "You + are afraid, Johnston, you are afraid," he said softly. The man struggled + to his feet, cast upon the sergeant a gaze full of admiration, reproach, + and despair, and returned to his post. A moment later he pitched forward, + and thereafter his body hung out of the window, his arms straight and the + fists clenched. Incidentally this corpse was pierced afterwards by chance + three times by bullets of the enemy. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant laid his rifle against the stonework of the window-frame and + shot with care until his magazine was empty. Behind him a man, simply + grazed on the elbow, was wildly sobbing like a girl. "Damn it, shut up!" + said Morton, without turning his head. Before him was a vista of a garden, + fields, clumps of trees, woods, populated at the time with little fleeting + figures. + </p> + <p> + He grew furious. "Why didn't he send me orders?" he cried aloud. The + emphasis on the word "he" was impressive. A mile back on the road a + galloper of the Hussars lay dead beside his dead horse. + </p> + <p> + The man who had been grazed on the elbow still set up his bleat. Morton's + fury veered to this soldier. "Can't you shut up? Can't you shut up? Can't + you shut up? Fight! That's the thing to do. Fight!" + </p> + <p> + A bullet struck Morton, and he fell upon the man who had been shot in the + throat. There was a sickening moment. Then the sergeant rolled off to a + position upon the bloody floor. He turned himself with a last effort until + he could look at the wounded who were able to look at him. + </p> + <p> + "Kim up, the Kickers," he said thickly. His arms weakened and he dropped + on his face. + </p> + <p> + After an interval a young subaltern of the enemy's infantry, followed by + his eager men, burst into this reeking interior. But just over the + threshold he halted before the scene of blood and death. He turned with a + shrug to his sergeant. "God, I should have estimated them at least one + hundred strong." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + UPTURNED FACE + </h2> + <p> + "What will we do now?" said the adjutant, troubled and excited. + </p> + <p> + "Bury him," said Timothy Lean. + </p> + <p> + The two officers looked down close to their toes where lay the body of + their comrade. The face was chalk-blue; gleaming eyes stared at the sky. + Over the two upright figures was a windy sound of bullets, and on the top + of the hill Lean's prostrate company of Spitzbergen infantry was firing + measured volleys. + </p> + <p> + "Don't you think it would be better—" began the adjutant. "We might + leave him until tomorrow." + </p> + <p> + "No," said Lean. "I can't hold that post an hour longer. I've got to fall + back, and we've got to bury old Bill." + </p> + <p> + "Of course," said the adjutant, at once. "Your men got intrenching tools?" + </p> + <p> + Lean shouted back to his little line, and two men came slowly, one with a + pick, one with a shovel. They started in the direction of the Rostina + sharp-shooters. Bullets cracked near their ears. "Dig here," said Lean + gruffly. The men, thus caused to lower their glances to the turf, became + hurried and frightened merely because they could not look to see whence + the bullets came. The dull beat of the pick striking the earth sounded + amid the swift snap of close bullets. Presently the other private began to + shovel. + </p> + <p> + "I suppose," said the adjutant, slowly, "we'd better search his clothes + for—things." + </p> + <p> + Lean nodded. Together in curious abstraction they looked at the body. Then + Lean stirred his shoulders suddenly, arousing himself. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," he said, "we'd better see what he's got." He dropped to his knees, + and his hands approached the body of the dead officer. But his hands + wavered over the buttons of the tunic. The first button was brick-red with + drying blood, and he did not seem to dare touch it. + </p> + <p> + "Go on," said the adjutant, hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + Lean stretched his wooden hand, and his fingers fumbled the blood-stained + buttons. At last he rose with ghastly face. He had gathered a watch, a + whistle, a pipe, a tobacco pouch, a handkerchief, a little case of cards + and papers. He looked at the adjutant. There was a silence. The adjutant + was feeling that he had been a coward to make Lean do all the grisly + business. + </p> + <p> + "Well," said Lean, "that's all, I think. You have his sword and revolver?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said the adjutant, his face working, and then he burst out in a + sudden strange fury at the two privates. "Why don't you hurry up with that + grave? What are you doing, anyhow? Hurry, do you hear? I never saw such + stupid—" + </p> + <p> + Even as he cried out in his passion the two men were laboring for their + lives. Ever overhead the bullets were spitting. + </p> + <p> + The grave was finished, It was not a masterpiece—a poor little + shallow thing. Lean and the adjutant again looked at each other in a + curious silent communication. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the adjutant croaked out a weird laugh. It was a terrible laugh, + which had its origin in that part of the mind which is first moved by the + singing of the nerves. "Well," he said, humorously to Lean, "I suppose we + had best tumble him in." + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said Lean. The two privates stood waiting, bent over their + implements. "I suppose," said Lean, "it would be better if we laid him in + ourselves." + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said the adjutant. Then apparently remembering that he had made + Lean search the body, he stooped with great fortitude and took hold of the + dead officer's clothing. Lean joined him. Both were particular that their + fingers should not feel the corpse. They tugged away; the corpse lifted, + heaved, toppled, flopped into the grave, and the two officers, + straightening, looked again at each other—they were always looking + at each other. They sighed with relief. + </p> + <p> + The adjutant said, "I suppose we should—we should say something. Do + you know the service, Tim?" + </p> + <p> + "They don't read the service until the grave is filled in," said Lean, + pressing his lips to an academic expression. + </p> + <p> + "Don't they?" said the adjutant, shocked that he had made the mistake. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, well," he cried, suddenly, "let us—let us say something—while + he can hear us." + </p> + <p> + "All right," said Lean. "Do you know the service?" + </p> + <p> + "I can't remember a line of it," said the adjutant. + </p> + <p> + Lean was extremely dubious. "I can repeat two lines, but—" + </p> + <p> + "Well, do it," said the adjutant. "Go as far as you can. That's better + than nothing. And the beasts have got our range exactly." + </p> + <p> + Lean looked at his two men. "Attention," he barked. The privates came to + attention with a click, looking much aggrieved. The adjutant lowered his + helmet to his knee. Lean, bareheaded, he stood over the grave. The Rostina + sharpshooters fired briskly. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Father, our friend has sunk in the deep waters of death, but his + spirit has leaped toward Thee as the bubble arises from the lips of the + drowning. Perceive, we beseech, O Father, the little flying bubble, and—". + </p> + <p> + Lean, although husky and ashamed, had suffered no hesitation up to this + point, but he stopped with a hopeless feeling and looked at the corpse. + </p> + <p> + The adjutant moved uneasily. "And from Thy superb heights—" he + began, and then he too came to an end. + </p> + <p> + "And from Thy superb heights," said Lean. + </p> + <p> + The adjutant suddenly remembered a phrase in the back part of the + Spitzbergen burial service, and he exploited it with the triumphant manner + of a man who has recalled everything, and can go on. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, God, have mercy—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, God, have mercy—" said Lean. + </p> + <p> + "Mercy," repeated the adjutant, in quick failure. + </p> + <p> + "Mercy," said Lean. And then he was moved by some violence of feeling, for + he turned suddenly upon his two men and tigerishly said, "Throw the dirt + in." + </p> + <p> + The fire of the Rostina sharpshooters was accurate and continuous. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + One of the aggrieved privates came forward with his shovel. He lifted his + first shovel-load of earth, and for a moment of inexplicable hesitation it + was held poised above this corpse, which from its chalk-blue face looked + keenly out from the grave. Then the soldier emptied his shovel on—on + the feet. + </p> + <p> + Timothy Lean felt as if tons had been swiftly lifted from off his + forehead. He had felt that perhaps the private might empty the shovel on—on + the face. It had been emptied on the feet. There was a great point gained + there—ha, ha!—the first shovelful had been emptied on the + feet. How satisfactory! + </p> + <p> + The adjutant began to babble. "Well, of course—a man we've messed + with all these years—impossible—you can't, you know, leave + your intimate friends rotting on the field. Go on, for God's sake, and + shovel, you!" + </p> + <p> + The man with the shovel suddenly ducked, grabbed his left arm with his + right hand, and looked at his officer for orders. Lean picked the shovel + from the ground. "Go to the rear," he said to the wounded man. He also + addressed the other private. "You get under cover, too; I'll finish this + business." + </p> + <p> + The wounded man scrambled hard still for the top of the ridge without + devoting any glances to the direction whence the bullets came, and the + other man followed at an equal pace; but he was different, in that he + looked back anxiously three times. + </p> + <p> + This is merely the way—often—of the hit and unhit. + </p> + <p> + Timothy Lean filled the shovel, hesitated, and then in a movement which + was like a gesture of abhorrence he flung the dirt into the grave, and as + it landed it made a sound—plop! Lean suddenly stopped and mopped his + brow—a tired laborer. + </p> + <p> + "Perhaps we have been wrong," said the adjutant. His glance wavered + stupidly. "It might have been better if we hadn't buried him just at this + time. Of course, if we advance to-morrow the body would have been—" + </p> + <p> + "Damn you," said Lean, "shut your mouth!" He was not the senior officer. + </p> + <p> + He again filled the shovel and flung the earth. Always the earth made that + sound—plop! For a space Lean worked frantically, like a man digging + himself out of danger. + </p> + <p> + Soon there was nothing to be seen but the chalk-blue face. Lean filled the + shovel. "Good God," he cried to the adjutant. "Why didn't you turn him + somehow when you put him in? This—" Then Lean began to stutter. + </p> + <p> + The adjutant understood. He was pale to the lips. "Go on, man," he cried, + beseechingly, almost in a shout. Lean swung back the shovel. It went + forward in a pendulum curve. When the earth landed it made a sound—plop! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN EPISODE OF WAR + </h2> + <p> + The lieutenant's rubber blanket lay on the ground, and upon it he had + poured the company's supply of coffee. Corporals and other representatives + of the grimy and hot-throated men who lined the breastwork had come for + each squad's portion. + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant was frowning and serious at this task of division. His lips + pursed as he drew with his sword various crevices in the heap until brown + squares of coffee, astoundingly equal in size, appeared on the blanket. He + was on the verge of a great triumph in mathematics, and the corporals were + thronging forward, each to reap a little square, when suddenly the + lieutenant cried out and looked quickly at a man near him as if he + suspected it was a case of personal assault. The others cried out also + when they saw blood upon the lieutenant's sleeve. + </p> + <p> + He had winced like a man stung, swayed dangerously, and then straightened. + The sound of his hoarse breathing was plainly audible. He looked sadly, + mystically, over the breastwork at the green face of a wood, where now + were many little puffs of white smoke. During this moment the men about + him gazed statue-like and silent, astonished and awed by this catastrophe + which happened when catastrophes were not expected—when they had + leisure to observe it. + </p> + <p> + As the lieutenant stared at the wood, they too swung their heads, so that + for another instant all hands, still silent, contemplated the distant + forest as if their minds were fixed upon the mystery of a bullet's + journey. + </p> + <p> + The officer had, of course, been compelled to take his sword into his left + hand. He did not hold it by the hilt. He gripped it at the middle of the + blade, awkwardly. Turning his eyes from the hostile wood, he looked at the + sword as he held it there, and seemed puzzled as to what to do with it, + where to put it. In short, this weapon had of a sudden become a strange + thing to him. He looked at it in a kind of stupefaction, as if he had been + endowed with a trident, a sceptre, or a spade. + </p> + <p> + Finally he tried to sheath it. To sheath a sword held by the left hand, at + the middle of the blade, in a scabbard hung at the left hip, is a feat + worthy of a sawdust ring. This wounded officer engaged in a desperate + struggle with the sword and the wobbling scabbard, and during the time of + it he breathed like a wrestler. + </p> + <p> + But at this instant the men, the spectators, awoke from their stone-like + poses and crowded forward sympathetically. The orderly-sergeant took the + sword and tenderly placed it in the scabbard. At the time, he leaned + nervously backward, and did not allow even his finger to brush the body of + the lieutenant. A wound gives strange dignity to him who bears it. Well + men shy from this new and terrible majesty. It is as if the wounded man's + hand is upon the curtain which hangs before the revelations of all + existence—the meaning of ants, potentates, wars, cities, sunshine, + snow, a feather dropped from a bird's wing; and the power of it sheds + radiance upon a bloody form, and makes the other men understand sometimes + that they are little. His comrades look at him with large eyes + thoughtfully. Moreover, they fear vaguely that the weight of a finger upon + him might send him headlong, precipitate the tragedy, hurl him at once + into the dim, grey unknown. And so the orderly-sergeant, while sheathing + the sword, leaned nervously backward. + </p> + <p> + There were others who proffered assistance. One timidly presented his + shoulder and asked the lieutenant if he cared to lean upon it, but the + latter waved him away mournfully. He wore the look of one who knows he is + the victim of a terrible disease and understands his helplessness. He + again stared over the breastwork at the forest, and then turning went + slowly rearward. He held his right wrist tenderly in his left hand as if + the wounded arm was made of very brittle glass. + </p> + <p> + And the men in silence stared at the wood, then at the departing + lieutenant—then at the wood, then at the lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + As the wounded officer passed from the line of battle, he was enabled to + see many things which as a participant in the fight were unknown to him. + He saw a general on a black horse gazing over the lines of blue infantry + at the green woods which veiled his problems. An aide galloped furiously, + dragged his horse suddenly to a halt, saluted, and presented a paper. It + was, for a wonder, precisely like an historical painting. + </p> + <p> + To the rear of the general and his staff a group, composed of a bugler, + two or three orderlies, and the bearer of the corps standard, all upon + maniacal horses, were working like slaves to hold their ground, preserve, + their respectful interval, while the shells boomed in the air about them, + and caused their chargers to make furious quivering leaps. + </p> + <p> + A battery, a tumultuous and shining mass, was swirling toward the right. + The wild thud of hoofs, the cries of the riders shouting blame and praise, + menace and encouragement, and, last the roar of the wheels, the slant of + the glistening guns, brought the lieutenant to an intent pause. The + battery swept in curves that stirred the heart; it made halts as dramatic + as the crash of a wave on the rocks, and when it fled onward, this + aggregation of wheels, levers, motors, had a beautiful unity, as if it + were a missile. The sound of it was a war-chorus that reached into the + depths of man's emotion. + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant, still holding his arm as if it were of glass, stood + watching this battery until all detail of it was lost, save the figures of + the riders, which rose and fell and waved lashes over the black mass. + </p> + <p> + Later, he turned his eyes toward the battle where the shooting sometimes + crackled like bush-fires, sometimes sputtered with exasperating + irregularity, and sometimes reverberated like the thunder. He saw the + smoke rolling upward and saw crowds of men who ran and cheered, or stood + and blazed away at the inscrutable distance. + </p> + <p> + He came upon some stragglers, and they told him how to find the field + hospital. They described its exact location. In fact, these men, no longer + having part in the battle, knew more of it than others. They told the + performance of every corps, every division, the opinion of every general. + The lieutenant, carrying his wounded arm rearward, looked upon them with + wonder. + </p> + <p> + At the roadside a brigade was making coffee and buzzing with talk like a + girls' boarding-school. Several officers came out to him and inquired + concerning things of which he knew nothing. One, seeing his arm, began to + scold. "Why, man, that's no way to do. You want to fix that thing." He + appropriated the lieutenant and the lieutenant's wound. He cut the sleeve + and laid bare the arm, every nerve of which softly fluttered under his + touch. He bound his handkerchief over the wound, scolding away in the + meantime. His tone allowed one to think that he was in the habit of being + wounded every day. The lieutenant hung his head, feeling, in this + presence, that he did not know how to be correctly wounded. + </p> + <p> + The low white tents of the hospital were grouped around an old + school-house. There was here a singular commotion. In the foreground two + ambulances interlocked wheels in the deep mud. The drivers were tossing + the blame of it back and forth, gesticulating and berating, while from the + ambulances, both crammed with wounded, there came an occasional groan. An + interminable crowd of bandaged men were coming and going. Great numbers + sat under the trees nursing heads or arms or legs. There was a dispute of + some kind raging on the steps of the school-house. Sitting with his back + against a tree a man with a face as grey as a new army blanket was + serenely smoking a corn-cob pipe. The lieutenant wished to rush forward + and inform him that he was dying. + </p> + <p> + A busy surgeon was passing near the lieutenant. "Good-morning," he said, + with a friendly smile. Then he caught sight of the lieutenant's arm and + his face at once changed. "Well, let's have a look at it." He seemed + possessed suddenly of a great contempt for the lieutenant. This wound + evidently placed the latter on a very low social plane. The doctor cried + out impatiently, "What mutton-head had tied it up that way anyhow?" The + lieutenant answered, "Oh, a man." + </p> + <p> + When the wound was disclosed the doctor fingered it disdainfully. "Humph," + he said. "You come along with me and I'll 'tend to you." His voice + contained the same scorn as if he were saying, "You will have to go to + jail." + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant had been very meek, but now his face flushed, and he looked + into the doctor's eyes. "I guess I won't have it amputated," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Nonsense, man! Nonsense! Nonsense!" cried the doctor. "Come along, now. I + won't amputate it. Come along. Don't be a baby." + </p> + <p> + "Let go of me," said the lieutenant, holding back wrathfully, his glance + fixed upon the door of the old school-house, as sinister to him as the + portals of death. + </p> + <p> + And this is the story of how the lieutenant lost his arm. When he reached + home, his sisters, his mother, his wife sobbed for a long time at the + sight of the flat sleeve. "Oh, well," he said, standing shamefaced amid + these tears, "I don't suppose it matters so much as all that." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN EXPERIMENT IN MISERY + </h2> + <p> + It was late at night, and a fine rain was swirling softly down, causing + the pavements to glisten with hue of steel and blue and yellow in the rays + of the innumerable lights. A youth was trudging slowly, without + enthusiasm, with his hands buried deep in his trousers' pockets, toward + the downtown places where beds can be hired for coppers. He was clothed in + an aged and tattered suit, and his derby was a marvel of dust-covered + crown and torn rim. He was going forth to eat as the wanderer may eat, and + sleep as the homeless sleep. By the time he had reached City Hall Park he + was so completely plastered with yells of "bum" and "hobo," and with + various unholy epithets that small boys had applied to him at intervals, + that he was in a state of the most profound dejection. The sifting rain + saturated the old velvet collar of his overcoat, and as the wet cloth + pressed against his neck, he felt that there no longer could be pleasure + in life. He looked about him searching for an outcast of highest degree + that they too might share miseries, but the lights threw a quivering glare + over rows and circles of deserted benches that glistened damply, showing + patches of wet sod behind them. It seemed that their usual freights had + fled on this night to better things. There were only squads of + well-dressed Brooklyn people who swarmed towards the bridge. + </p> + <p> + The young man loitered about for a time and then went shuffling off down + Park Row. In the sudden descent in style of the dress of the crowd he felt + relief, and as if he were at last in his own country. He began to see + tatters that matched his tatters. In Chatham Square there were aimless men + strewn in front of saloons and lodging-houses, standing sadly, patiently, + reminding one vaguely of the attitudes of chickens in a storm. He aligned + himself with these men, and turned slowly to occupy himself with the + flowing life of the great street. + </p> + <p> + Through the mists of the cold and storming night, the cable cars went in + silent procession, great affairs shining with red and brass, moving with + formidable power, calm and irresistible, dangerful and gloomy, breaking + silence only by the loud fierce cry of the gong. Two rivers of people + swarmed along the sidewalks, spattered with black mud, which made each + shoe leave a scarlike impression. Overhead elevated trains with a shrill + grinding of the wheels stopped at the station, which upon its leglike + pillars seemed to resemble some monstrous kind of crab squatting over the + street. The quick fat puffings of the engines could be heard. Down an + alley there were somber curtains of purple and black, on which street + lamps dully glittered like embroidered flowers. + </p> + <p> + A saloon stood with a voracious air on a corner. A sign leaning against + the front of the door-post announced "Free hot soup to-night!" The swing + doors, snapping to and fro like ravenous lips, made gratified smacks as + the saloon gorged itself with plump men, eating with astounding and + endless appetite, smiling in some indescribable manner as the men came + from all directions like sacrifices to a heathenish superstition. + </p> + <p> + Caught by the delectable sign the young man allowed himself to be + swallowed. A bartender placed a schooner of dark and portentous beer on + the bar. Its monumental form upreared until the froth a-top was above the + crown of the young man's brown derby. + </p> + <p> + "Soup over there, gents," said the bartender affably. A little yellow man + in rags and the youth grasped their schooners and went with speed toward a + lunch counter, where a man with oily but imposing whiskers ladled genially + from a kettle until he had furnished his two mendicants with a soup that + was steaming hot, and in which there were little floating suggestions of + chicken. The young man, sipping his broth, felt the cordiality expressed + by the warmth of the mixture, and he beamed at the man with oily but + imposing whiskers, who was presiding like a priest behind an altar. "Have + some more, gents?" he inquired of the two sorry figures before him. The + little yellow man accepted with a swift gesture, but the youth shook his + head and went out, following a man whose wondrous seediness promised that + he would have a knowledge of cheap lodging-houses. + </p> + <p> + On the sidewalk he accosted the seedy man. "Say, do you know a cheap place + to sleep?" + </p> + <p> + The other hesitated for a time, gazing sideways. Finally he nodded in the + direction of the street, "I sleep up there," he said, "when I've got the + price." + </p> + <p> + "How much?" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +"Ten cents." + The young man shook his head dolefully. "That's too rich for me." +</pre> + <p> + At that moment there approached the two a reeling man in strange garments. + His head was a fuddle of bushy hair and whiskers, from which his eyes + peered with a guilty slant. In a close scrutiny it was possible to + distinguish the cruel lines of a mouth which looked as if its lips had + just closed with satisfaction over some tender and piteous morsel. He + appeared like an assassin steeped in crimes performed awkwardly. + </p> + <p> + But at this time his voice was tuned to the coaxing key of an affectionate + puppy. He looked at the men with wheedling eyes, and began to sing a + little melody for charity. + </p> + <p> + "Say, gents, can't yeh give a poor feller a couple of cents t' git a bed? + I got five, and I gits anudder two I gits me a bed. Now, on th' square, + gents, can't yeh jest gimme two cents t' git a bed? Now, yeh know how a + respecter'ble gentlem'n feels when he's down on his luck, an' I—" + </p> + <p> + The seedy man, staring with imperturbable countenance at a train which + clattered overhead, interrupted in an expressionless voice—"Ah, go + t' h——!" + </p> + <p> + But the youth spoke to the prayerful assassin in tones of astonishment and + inquiry. "Say, you must be crazy! Why don't yeh strike somebody that looks + as if they had money?" + </p> + <p> + The assassin, tottering about on his uncertain legs, and at intervals + brushing imaginary obstacles from before his nose, entered into a long + explanation of the psychology of the situation. It was so profound that it + was unintelligible. + </p> + <p> + When he had exhausted the subject, the young man said to him: + </p> + <p> + "Let's see th' five cents." + </p> + <p> + The assassin wore an expression of drunken woe at this sentence, filled + with suspicion of him. With a deeply pained air he began to fumble in his + clothing, his red hands trembling. Presently he announced in a voice of + bitter grief, as if he had been betrayed—"There's on'y four." + </p> + <p> + "Four," said the young man thoughtfully. "Well, look here, I'm a stranger + here, an' if ye'll steer me to your cheap joint I'll find the other + three." + </p> + <p> + The assassin's countenance became instantly radiant with joy. His whiskers + quivered with the wealth of his alleged emotions. He seized the young + man's hand in a transport of delight and friendliness. + </p> + <p> + "B' Gawd," he cried, "if ye'll do that, b' Gawd, I'd say yeh was a damned + good fellow, I would, an' I'd remember yeh all m' life, I would, b' Gawd, + an' if I ever got a chance I'd return the compliment"—he spoke with + drunken dignity—"b' Gawd, I'd treat yeh white, I would, an' I'd + allus remember yeh." + </p> + <p> + The young man drew back, looking at the assassin coldly. "Oh, that's all + right," he said. "You show me th' joint—that's all you've got t' + do." + </p> + <p> + The assassin, gesticulating gratitude, led the young man along a dark + street. Finally he stopped before a little dusty door. He raised his hand + impressively. "Look-a-here," he said, and there was a thrill of deep and + ancient wisdom upon his face, "I've brought yeh here, an' that's my part, + ain't it? If th' place don't suit yeh, yeh needn't git mad at me, need + yeh? There won't be no bad feelin', will there?" + </p> + <p> + "No," said the young man. + </p> + <p> + The assassin waved his arm tragically, and led the march up the steep + stairway. On the way the young man furnished the assassin with three + pennies. At the top a man with benevolent spectacles looked at them + through a hole in a board. He collected their money, wrote some names on a + register, and speedily was leading the two men along a gloom-shrouded + corridor. + </p> + <p> + Shortly after the beginning of this journey the young man felt his liver + turn white, for from the dark and secret places of the building there + suddenly came to his nostrils strange and unspeakable odors, that assailed + him like malignant diseases with wings. They seemed to be from human + bodies closely packed in dens; the exhalations from a hundred pairs of + reeking lips; the fumes from a thousand bygone debauches; the expression + of a thousand present miseries. + </p> + <p> + A man, naked save for a little snuff-colored undershirt, was parading + sleepily along the corridor. He rubbed his eyes, and, giving vent to a + prodigious yawn, demanded to be told the time. + </p> + <p> + "Half-past one." + </p> + <p> + The man yawned again. He opened a door, and for a moment his form was + outlined against a black, opaque interior. To this door came the three + men, and as it was again opened the unholy odors rushed out like fiends, + so that the young man was obliged to struggle as against an overpowering + wind. + </p> + <p> + It was some time before the youth's eyes were good in the intense gloom + within, but the man with benevolent spectacles led him skilfully, pausing + but a moment to deposit the limp assassin upon a cot. He took the youth to + a cot that lay tranquilly by the window, and showing him a tall locker for + clothes that stood near the head with the ominous air of a tombstone, left + him. + </p> + <p> + The youth sat on his cot and peered about him. There was a gas-jet in a + distant part of the room, that burned a small flickering orange-hued + flame. It caused vast masses of tumbled shadows in all parts of the place, + save where, immediately about it, there was a little grey haze. As the + young man's eyes became used to the darkness, he could see upon the cots + that thickly littered the floor the forms of men sprawled out, lying in + deathlike silence, or heaving and snoring with tremendous effort, like + stabbed fish. + </p> + <p> + The youth locked his derby and his shoes in the mummy case near him, and + then lay down with an old and familiar coat around his shoulders. A + blanket he handed gingerly, drawing it over part of the coat. The cot was + covered with leather, and as cold as melting snow. The youth was obliged + to shiver for some time on this affair, which was like a slab. Presently, + however, his chill gave him peace, and during this period of leisure from + it he turned his head to stare at his friend the assassin, whom he could + dimly discern where he lay sprawled on a cot in the abandon of a man + filled with drink. He was snoring with incredible vigor. His wet hair and + beard dimly glistened, and his inflamed nose shone with subdued lustre + like a red light in a fog. + </p> + <p> + Within reach of the youth's hand was one who lay with yellow breast and + shoulders bare to the cold drafts. One arm hung over the side of the cot, + and the fingers lay full length upon the wet cement floor of the room. + Beneath the inky brows could be seen the eyes of the man exposed by the + partly opened lids. To the youth it seemed that he and this corpse-like + being were exchanging a prolonged stare, and that the other threatened + with his eyes. He drew back, watching his neighbor from the shadows of his + blanket edge. The man did not move once through the night, but lay in this + stillness as of death like a body stretched out expectant of the surgeon's + knife. + </p> + <p> + And all through the room could be seen the tawny hues of naked flesh, + limbs thrust into the darkness, projecting beyond the cots; upreared + knees, arms hanging long and thin over the cot edges. For the most part + they were statuesque, carven, dead. With the curious lockers standing all + about like tombstones, there was a strange effect of a graveyard where + bodies were merely flung. + </p> + <p> + Yet occasionally could be seen limbs wildly tossing in fantastic nightmare + gestures, accompanied by guttural cries, grunts, oaths. And there was one + fellow off in a gloomy corner, who in his dreams was oppressed by some + frightful calamity, for of a sudden he began to utter long wails that went + almost like yells from a hound, echoing wailfully and weird through this + chill place of tombstones where men lay like the dead. + </p> + <p> + The sound in its high piercing beginnings, that dwindled to final + melancholy moans, expressed a red and grim tragedy of the unfathomable + possibilities of the man's dreams. But to the youth these were not merely + the shrieks of a vision-pierced man: they were an utterance of the meaning + of the room and its occupants. It was to him the protest of the wretch who + feels the touch of the imperturbable granite wheels, and who then cries + with an impersonal eloquence, with a strength not from him, giving voice + to the wail of a whole section, a class, a people. This, weaving into the + young man's brain, and mingling with his views of the vast and sombre + shadows that, like mighty black fingers, curled around the naked bodies, + made the young man so that he did not sleep, but lay carving the + biographies for these men from his meagre experience. At times the fellow + in the corner howled in a writhing agony of his imaginations. + </p> + <p> + Finally a long lance-point of grey light shot through the dusty panes of + the window. Without, the young man could see roofs drearily white in the + dawning. The point of light yellowed and grew brighter, until the golden + rays of the morning sun came in bravely and strong. They touched with + radiant color the form of a small fat man, who snored in stuttering + fashion. His round and shiny bald head glowed suddenly with the valor of a + decoration. He sat up, blinked at the sun, swore fretfully, and pulled his + blanket over the ornamental splendors of his head. + </p> + <p> + The youth contentedly watched this rout of the shadows before the bright + spears of the sun, and presently he slumbered. When he awoke he heard the + voice of the assassin raised in valiant curses. Putting up his head, he + perceived his comrade seated on the side of the cot engaged in scratching + his neck with long finger-nails that rasped like files. + </p> + <p> + "Hully Jee, dis is a new breed. They've got can-openers on their feet." He + continued in a violent tirade. + </p> + <p> + The young man hastily unlocked his closet and took out his shoes and hat. + As he sat on the side of the cot lacing his shoes, he glanced about and + saw that daylight had made the room comparatively commonplace and + uninteresting. The men, whose faces seemed stolid, serene or absent, were + engaged in dressing, while a great crackle of bantering conversation + arose. + </p> + <p> + A few were parading in unconcerned nakedness. Here and there were men of + brawn, whose skins shone clear and ruddy. They took splendid poses, + standing massively like chiefs. When they had dressed in their ungainly + garments there was an extraordinary change. They then showed bumps and + deficiencies of all kinds. + </p> + <p> + There were others who exhibited many deformities. Shoulders were slanting, + humped, pulled this way and pulled that way. And notable among these + latter men was the little fat man who had refused to allow his head to be + glorified. His pudgy form, builded like a pear, bustled to and fro, while + he swore in fishwife fashion. It appeared that some article of his apparel + had vanished. + </p> + <p> + The young man attired speedily, and went to his friend the assassin. At + first the latter looked dazed at the sight of the youth. This face seemed + to be appealing to him through the cloud wastes of his memory. He + scratched his neck and reflected. At last he grinned, a broad smile + gradually spreading until his countenance was a round illumination. + "Hello, Willie," he cried cheerily. + </p> + <p> + "Hello," said the young man. "Are yeh ready t' fly?" + </p> + <p> + "Sure." The assassin tied his shoe carefully with some twine and came + ambling. + </p> + <p> + When he reached the street the young man experienced no sudden relief from + unholy atmospheres. He had forgotten all about them, and had been + breathing naturally, and with no sensation of discomfort or distress. + </p> + <p> + He was thinking of these things as he walked along the street, when he was + suddenly startled by feeling the assassin's hand, trembling with + excitement, clutching his arm, and when the assassin spoke, his voice went + into quavers from a supreme agitation. + </p> + <p> + "I'll be hully, bloomin' blowed if there wasn't a feller with a nightshirt + on up there in that joint." + </p> + <p> + The youth was bewildered for a moment, but presently he turned to smile + indulgently at the assassin's humor. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, you're a d—d liar," he merely said. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the assassin began to gesture extravagantly, and take oath by + strange gods. He frantically placed himself at the mercy of remarkable + fates if his tale were not true. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, he did! I cross m' heart thousan' times!" he protested, and at the + moment his eyes were large with amazement, his mouth wrinkled in unnatural + glee. + </p> + <p> + "Yessir! A nightshirt! A hully white nightshirt!" + </p> + <p> + "You lie!" + </p> + <p> + "No, sir! I hope ter die b'fore I kin git anudder ball if there wasn't a + jay wid a hully, bloomin' white nightshirt!" + </p> + <p> + His face was filled with the infinite wonder of it. "A hully white + nightshirt," he continually repeated. + </p> + <p> + The young man saw the dark entrance to a basement restaurant. There was a + sign which read "No mystery about our hash"! and there were other + age-stained and world-battered legends which told him that the place was + within his means. He stopped before it and spoke to the assassin. "I guess + I'll git somethin' t' eat." + </p> + <p> + At this the assassin, for some reason, appeared to be quite embarrassed. + He gazed at the seductive front of the eating place for a moment. Then he + started slowly up the street. "Well, good-bye, Willie," he said bravely. + </p> + <p> + For an instant the youth studied the departing figure. Then he called out, + "Hol' on a minnet." As they came together he spoke in a certain fierce + way, as if he feared that the other would think him to be charitable. + "Look-a-here, if yeh wanta git some breakfas' I'll lend yeh three cents t' + do it with. But say, look-a-here, you've gota git out an' hustle. I ain't + goin' t' support yeh, or I'll go broke b'fore night. I ain't no + millionaire." + </p> + <p> + "I take me oath, Willie," said the assassin earnestly, "th' on'y thing I + really needs is a ball. Me t'roat feels like a fryin'-pan. But as I can't + get a ball, why, th' next bes' thing is breakfast, an' if yeh do that for + me, b'Gawd, I say yeh was th' whitest lad I ever see." + </p> + <p> + They spent a few moments in dexterous exchanges of phrases, in which they + each protested that the other was, as the assassin had originally said, "a + respecter'ble gentlem'n." And they concluded with mutual assurances that + they were the souls of intelligence and virtue. Then they went into the + restaurant. + </p> + <p> + There was a long counter, dimly lighted from hidden sources. Two or three + men in soiled white aprons rushed here and there. + </p> + <p> + The youth bought a bowl of coffee for two cents and a roll for one cent. + The assassin purchased the same. The bowls were webbed with brown seams, + and the tin spoons wore an air of having emerged from the first pyramid. + Upon them were black mosslike encrustations of age, and they were bent and + scarred from the attacks of long-forgotten teeth. But over their repast + the wanderers waxed warm and mellow. The assassin grew affable as the hot + mixture went soothingly down his parched throat, and the young man felt + courage flow in his veins. + </p> + <p> + Memories began to throng in on the assassin, and he brought forth long + tales, intricate, incoherent, delivered with a chattering swiftness as + from an old woman. "—great job out'n Orange. Boss keep yeh hustlin' + though all time. I was there three days, and then I went an' ask 'im t' + lend me a dollar. 'G-g-go ter the devil,' he ses, an' I lose me job." + </p> + <p> + "South no good. Damn niggers work for twenty-five an' thirty cents a day. + Run white man out. Good grub, though. Easy livin'." + </p> + <p> + "Yas; useter work little in Toledo, raftin' logs. Make two or three + dollars er day in the spring. Lived high. Cold as ice, though, in the + winter." + </p> + <p> + "I was raised in northern N'York. O-a-ah, yeh jest oughto live there. No + beer ner whisky, though, way off in the woods. But all th' good hot grub + yeh can eat. B'Gawd, I hung around there long as I could till th' ol' man + fired me. 'Git t' hell outa here, yeh wuthless skunk, git t' hell outa + here, an' go die,' he ses. 'You're a hell of a father,' I ses, 'you are,' + an' I quit 'im." + </p> + <p> + As they were passing from the dim eating place, they encountered an old + man who was trying to steal forth with a tiny package of food, but a tall + man with an indomitable moustache stood dragon fashion, barring the way of + escape. They heard the old man raise a plaintive protest. "Ah, you always + want to know what I take out, and you never see that I usually bring a + package in here from my place of business." + </p> + <p> + As the wanderers trudged slowly along Park Row, the assassin began to + expand and grow blithe. "B'Gawd, we've been livin' like kings," he said, + smacking appreciative lips. + </p> + <p> + "Look out, or we'll have t' pay fer it t'night," said the youth with + gloomy warning. + </p> + <p> + But the assassin refused to turn his gaze toward the future. He went with + a limping step, into which he injected a suggestion of lamblike gambols. + His mouth was wreathed in a red grin. + </p> + <p> + In the City Hall Park the two wanderers sat down in the little circle of + benches sanctified by traditions of their class. They huddled in their old + garments, slumbrously conscious of the march of the hours which for them + had no meaning. + </p> + <p> + The people of the street hurrying hither and thither made a blend of black + figures changing yet frieze-like. They walked in their good clothes as + upon important missions, giving no gaze to the two wanderers seated upon + the benches. They expressed to the young man his infinite distance from + all that he valued. Social position, comfort, the pleasures of living, + were unconquerable kingdoms. He felt a sudden awe. + </p> + <p> + And in the background a multitude of buildings, of pitiless hues and + sternly high, were to him emblematic of a nation forcing its regal head + into the clouds, throwing no downward glances; in the sublimity of its + aspirations ignoring the wretches who may flounder at its feet. The roar + of the city in his ear was to him the confusion of strange tongues, + babbling heedlessly; it was the clink of coin, the voice if the city's + hopes which were to him no hopes. + </p> + <p> + He confessed himself an outcast, and his eyes from under the lowered rim + of his hat began to glance guiltily, wearing the criminal expression that + comes with certain convictions. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DUEL THAT WAS NOT FOUGHT + </h2> + <p> + Patsy Tulligan was not as wise as seven owls, but his courage could throw + a shadow as long as the steeple of a cathedral. There were men on Cherry + Street who had whipped him five times, but they all knew that Patsy would + be as ready for the sixth time as if nothing had happened. + </p> + <p> + Once he and two friends had been away up on Eighth Avenue, far out of + their country, and upon their return journey that evening they stopped + frequently in saloons until they were as independent of their surroundings + as eagles, and cared much less about thirty days on Blackwell's. + </p> + <p> + On Lower Sixth Avenue they paused in a saloon where there was a good deal + of lamp-glare and polished wood to be seen from the outside, and within, + the mellow light shone on much furbished brass and more polished wood. It + was a better saloon than they were in the habit of seeing, but they did + not mind it. They sat down at one of the little tables that were in a row + parallel to the bar and ordered beer. They blinked stolidly at the + decorations, the bartender, and the other customers. When anything + transpired they discussed it with dazzling frankness, and what they said + of it was as free as air to the other people in the place. + </p> + <p> + At midnight there were few people in the saloon. Patsy and his friends + still sat drinking. Two well-dressed men were at another table, smoking + cigars slowly and swinging back in their chairs. They occupied themselves + with themselves in the usual manner, never betraying by a wink of an + eyelid that they knew that other folk existed. At another table directly + behind Patsy and his companions was a slim little Cuban, with miraculously + small feet and hands, and with a youthful touch of down upon his lip. As + he lifted his cigarette from time to time his little finger was bended in + dainty fashion, and there was a green flash when a huge emerald ring + caught the light. The bartender came often with his little brass tray. + Occasionally Patsy and his two friends quarrelled. + </p> + <p> + Once this little Cuban happened to make some slight noise and Patsy turned + his head to observe him. Then Patsy made a careless and rather loud + comment to his two friends. He used a word which is no more than passing + the time of day down in Cherry Street, but to the Cuban it was a + dagger-point. There was a harsh scraping sound as a chair was pushed + swiftly back. + </p> + <p> + The little Cuban was upon his feet. His eyes were shining with a rage that + flashed there like sparks as he glared at Patsy. His olive face had turned + a shade of grey from his anger. Withal his chest was thrust out in + portentous dignity, and his hand, still grasping his wine-glass, was cool + and steady, the little finger still bended, the great emerald gleaming + upon it. The others, motionless, stared at him. + </p> + <p> + "Sir," he began ceremoniously. He spoke gravely and in a slow way, his + tone coming in a marvel of self-possessed cadences from between those lips + which quivered with wrath. "You have insult me. You are a dog, a hound, a + cur. I spit upon you. I must have some of your blood." + </p> + <p> + Patsy looked at him over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + "What's th' matter wi' che?" he demanded. He did not quite understand the + words of this little man who glared at him steadily, but he knew that it + was something about fighting. He snarled with the readiness of his class + and heaved his shoulders contemptuously. "Ah, what's eatin' yeh? Take a + walk! You hain't got nothin' t' do with me, have yeh? Well, den, go sit on + yerself." + </p> + <p> + And his companions leaned back valorously in their chairs, and scrutinized + this slim young fellow who was addressing Patsy. + </p> + <p> + "What's de little Dago chewin' about?" + </p> + <p> + "He wants t' scrap!" + </p> + <p> + "What!" + </p> + <p> + The Cuban listened with apparent composure. It was only when they laughed + that his body cringed as if he was receiving lashes. Presently he put down + his glass and walked over to their table. He proceeded always with the + most impressive deliberation. + </p> + <p> + "Sir," he began again. "You have insult me. I must have + s-s-satisfac-shone. I must have your body upon the point of my sword. In + my country you would already be dead. I must have s-s-satisfac-shone." + </p> + <p> + Patsy had looked at the Cuban with a trifle of bewilderment. But at last + his face began to grow dark with belligerency, his mouth curved in that + wide sneer with which he would confront an angel of darkness. He arose + suddenly in his seat and came towards the little Cuban. He was going to be + impressive too. + </p> + <p> + "Say, young feller, if yeh go shootin' off yer face at me, I'll wipe d' + joint wid yeh. What'cher gaffin' about, hey? Are yeh givin' me er jolly? + Say, if yeh pick me up fer a cinch, I'll fool yeh. Dat's what! Don't take + me fer no dead easy mug." And as he glowered at the little Cuban, he ended + his oration with one eloquent word, "Nit!" + </p> + <p> + The bartender nervously polished his bar with a towel, and kept his eyes + fastened upon the men. Occasionally he became transfixed with interest, + leaning forward with one hand upon the edge of the bar and the other + holding the towel grabbed in a lump, as if he had been turned into bronze + when in the very act of polishing. + </p> + <p> + The Cuban did not move when Patsy came toward him and delivered his + oration. At its conclusion he turned his livid face toward where, above + him, Patsy was swaggering and heaving his shoulders in a consummate + display of bravery and readiness. The Cuban, in his clear, tense tones, + spoke one word. It was the bitter insult. It seemed fairly to spin from + his lips and crackle in the air like breaking glass. + </p> + <p> + Every man save the little Cuban made an electric movement. Patsy roared a + black oath and thrust himself forward until he towered almost directly + above the other man. His fists were doubled into knots of bone and hard + flesh. The Cuban had raised a steady finger. + </p> + <p> + "If you touch me wis your hand, I will keel you." + </p> + <p> + The two well-dressed men had come swiftly, uttering protesting cries. They + suddenly intervened in this second of time in which Patsy had sprung + forward and the Cuban had uttered his threat. The four men were now a + tossing, arguing; violent group, one well-dressed man lecturing the Cuban, + and the other holding off Patsy, who was now wild with rage, loudly + repeating the Cuban's threat, and maneuvering and struggling to get at him + for revenge's sake. + </p> + <p> + The bartender, feverishly scouring away with his towel, and at times + pacing to and fro with nervous and excited tread, shouted out— + </p> + <p> + "Say, for heaven's sake, don't fight in here. If yeh wanta fight, go out + in the street and fight all yeh please. But don't fight in here." + </p> + <p> + Patsy knew one only thing, and this he kept repeating: + </p> + <p> + "Well, he wants t' scrap! I didn't begin dis! He wants t' scrap." + </p> + <p> + The well-dressed man confronting him continually replied— + </p> + <p> + "Oh, well, now, look here, he's only a lad. He don't know what he's doing. + He's crazy mad. You wouldn't slug a kid like that." + </p> + <p> + Patsy and his aroused companions, who cursed and growled, were persistent + with their argument. "Well, he wants t' scrap!" The whole affair was as + plain as daylight when one saw this great fact. The interference and + intolerable discussion brought the three of them forward, battleful and + fierce. + </p> + <p> + "What's eatin' you, anyhow?" they demanded. "Dis ain't your business, is + it? What business you got shootin' off your face?" + </p> + <p> + The other peacemaker was trying to restrain the little Cuban, who had + grown shrill and violent. + </p> + <p> + "If he touch me wis his hand I will keel him. We must fight like gentlemen + or else I keel him when he touch me wis his hand." + </p> + <p> + The man who was fending off Patsy comprehended these sentences that were + screamed behind his back, and he explained to Patsy. + </p> + <p> + "But he wants to fight you with swords. With swords, you know." + </p> + <p> + The Cuban, dodging around the peacemakers, yelled in Patsy's face— + </p> + <p> + "Ah, if I could get you before me wis my sword! Ah! Ah! A-a-ah!" Patsy + made a furious blow with a swift fist, but the peacemakers bucked against + his body suddenly like football players. + </p> + <p> + Patsy was greatly puzzled. He continued doggedly to try to get near enough + to the Cuban to punch him. To these attempts the Cuban replied savagely— + </p> + <p> + "If you touch me wis your hand, I will cut your heart in two piece." + </p> + <p> + At last Patsy said—"Well, if he's so dead stuck on fightin' wid + swords, I'll fight 'im. Soitenly! I'll fight 'im." All this palaver had + evidently tired him, and he now puffed out his lips with the air of a man + who is willing to submit to any conditions if he can only bring on the row + soon enough. He swaggered, "I'll fight 'im wid swords. Let 'im bring on + his swords, an' I'll fight 'im 'til he's ready t' quit." + </p> + <p> + The two well-dressed men grinned. "Why, look here," they said to Patsy, + "he'd punch you full of holes. Why he's a fencer. You can't fight him with + swords. He'd kill you in 'bout a minute." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I'll giv' 'im a go at it, anyhow," said Patsy, stouthearted and + resolute. "I'll giv' 'im a go at it, anyhow, an' I'll stay wid 'im as long + as I kin." + </p> + <p> + As for the Cuban, his lithe body was quivering in an ecstasy of the + muscles. His face radiant with a savage joy, he fastened his glance upon + Patsy, his eyes gleaming with a gloating, murderous light. A most + unspeakable, animal-like rage was in his expression. + </p> + <p> + "Ah! ah! He will fight me! Ah!" He bended unconsciously in the posture of + a fencer. He had all the quick, springy movements of a skilful swordsman. + "Ah, the b-r-r-rute! The b-r-r-rute! I will stick him like a pig!" + </p> + <p> + The two peacemakers, still grinning broadly, were having a great time with + Patsy. + </p> + <p> + "Why, you infernal idiot, this man would slice you all up. You better jump + off the bridge if you want to commit suicide. You wouldn't stand a ghost + of a chance to live ten seconds." + </p> + <p> + Patsy was as unshaken as granite. "Well, if he wants t' fight wid swords, + he'll get it. I'll giv' 'im a go at it, anyhow." + </p> + <p> + One man said—"Well, have you got a sword? Do you know what a sword + is? Have you got a sword?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I ain't got none," said Patsy honestly, "but I kin git one." Then he + added valiantly—"An' quick, too." + </p> + <p> + The two men laughed. "Why, can't you understand it would be sure death to + fight a sword duel with this fellow?" + </p> + <p> + "Dat's all right! See? I know me own business. If he wants t' fight one of + dees d—n duels, I'm in it, understan'" + </p> + <p> + "Have you ever fought one, you fool?" + </p> + <p> + "No, I ain't. But I will fight one, dough! I ain't no muff. If he wants t' + fight a duel, by Gawd, I'm wid 'im! D'yeh understan' dat!" Patsy cocked + his hat and swaggered. He was getting very serious. + </p> + <p> + The little Cuban burst out—"Ah, come on, sirs: come on! We can take + cab. Ah, you big cow, I will stick you, I will stick you. Ah, you will + look very beautiful, very beautiful. Ah, come on, sirs. We will stop at + hotel—my hotel. I there have weapons." + </p> + <p> + "Yeh will, will yeh? Yeh bloomin' little black Dago!" cried Patsy in + hoarse and maddened reply to the personal part of the Cuban's speech. He + stepped forward. "Git yer d—n swords," he commanded. "Git yer + swords. Git 'em quick! I'll fight wi' che! I'll fight wid anyt'ing, too! + See? I'll fight yeh wid a knife an' fork if yeh say so! I'll fight yer + standin' up er sittin' down!" Patsy delivered this intense oration with + sweeping, intensely emphatic gestures, his hands stretched out eloquently, + his jaw thrust forward, his eyes glaring. + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" cried the little Cuban joyously. "Ah, you are in very pretty temper. + Ah, how I will cut your heart in two piece, my dear, d-e-a-r friend." His + eyes, too, shone like carbuncles, with a swift, changing glitter, always + fastened upon Patsy's face. + </p> + <p> + The two peacemakers were perspiring and in despair. One of them blurted + out— + </p> + <p> + "Well, I'll be blamed if this ain't the most ridiculous thing I ever saw." + </p> + <p> + The other said—"For ten dollars I'd be tempted to let these two + infernal blockheads have their duel." + </p> + <p> + Patsy was strutting to and fro, and conferring grandly with his friends. + </p> + <p> + "He took me for a muff. He t'ought he was goin' t' bluff me out, talkin' + 'bout swords. He'll get fooled." He addressed the Cuban—"You're a + fine little dirty picter of a scrapper, ain't che? I'll chew yez up, dat's + what I will!" + </p> + <p> + There began then some rapid action. The patience of well-dressed men is + not an eternal thing. It began to look as if it would at last be a fight + with six corners to it. The faces of the men were shining red with anger. + They jostled each other defiantly, and almost every one blazed out at + three or four of the others. The bartender had given up protesting. He + swore for a time and banged his glasses. Then he jumped the bar and ran + out of the saloon, cursing sullenly. + </p> + <p> + When he came back with a policeman, Patsy and the Cuban were preparing to + depart together. Patsy was delivering his last oration— + </p> + <p> + "I'll fight yer wid swords! Sure I will! Come ahead, Dago! I'll fight yeh + anywheres wid anyt'ing! We'll have a large, juicy scrap, an' don't yeh + forgit dat! I'm right wid yez. I ain't no muff! I scrap with a man jest as + soon as he ses scrap, an' if yeh wanta scrap, I'm yer kitten. Understan' + dat?" + </p> + <p> + The policeman said sharply—"Come, now; what's all this?" He had a + distinctly business air. + </p> + <p> + The little Cuban stepped forward calmly. "It is none of your business." + </p> + <p> + The policeman flushed to his ears. "What?" + </p> + <p> + One well-dressed man touched the other on the sleeve. "Here's the time to + skip," he whispered. They halted a block away from the saloon and watched + the policeman pull the Cuban through the door. There was a minute of + scuffle on the sidewalk, and into this deserted street at midnight fifty + people appeared at once as if from the sky to watch it. + </p> + <p> + At last the three Cherry Hill men came from the saloon, and swaggered with + all their old valor toward the peacemakers. + </p> + <p> + "Ah," said Patsy to them, "he was so hot talkin' about this duel business, + but I would a-given 'im a great scrap, an' don't yeh forgit it." + </p> + <p> + For Patsy was not as wise as seven owls, but his courage could throw a + shadow as long as the steeple of a cathedral. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A DESERTION + </h2> + <p> + The yellow gaslight that came with an effect of difficulty through the + dust-stained windows on either side of the door gave strange hues to the + faces and forms of the three women who stood gabbling in the hallway of + the tenement. They made rapid gestures, and in the background their + enormous shadows mingled in terrific conflict. + </p> + <p> + "Aye, she ain't so good as he thinks she is, I'll bet. He can watch over + 'er an' take care of 'er all he pleases, but when she wants t' fool 'im, + she'll fool 'im. An' how does he know she ain't foolin' im' now?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, he thinks he's keepin' 'er from goin' t' th' bad, he does. Oh, yes. + He ses she's too purty t' let run round alone. Too purty! Huh! My Sadie—" + </p> + <p> + "Well, he keeps a clost watch on 'er, you bet. On'y las' week, she met my + boy Tim on th' stairs, an' Tim hadn't said two words to 'er b'fore th' ol' + man begin to holler. 'Dorter, dorter, come here, come here!'" + </p> + <p> + At this moment a young girl entered from the street, and it was evident + from the injured expression suddenly assumed by the three gossipers that + she had been the object of their discussion. She passed them with a slight + nod, and they swung about into a row to stare after her. + </p> + <p> + On her way up the long flights the girl unfastened her veil. One could + then clearly see the beauty of her eyes, but there was in them a certain + furtiveness that came near to marring the effects. It was a peculiar + fixture of gaze, brought from the street, as of one who there saw a + succession of passing dangers with menaces aligned at every corner. + </p> + <p> + On the top floor, she pushed open a door and then paused on the threshold, + confronting an interior that appeared black and flat like a curtain. + Perhaps some girlish idea of hobgoblins assailed her then, for she called + in a little breathless voice, "Daddie!" + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. The fire in the cooking-stove in the room crackled at + spasmodic intervals. One lid was misplaced, and the girl could now see + that this fact created a little flushed crescent upon the ceiling. Also, a + series of tiny windows in the stove caused patches of red upon the floor. + Otherwise, the room was heavily draped with shadows. + </p> + <p> + The girl called again, "Daddie!" + </p> + <p> + Yet there was no reply. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Daddie!" + </p> + <p> + Presently she laughed as one familiar with the humors of an old man. "Oh, + I guess yer cussin' mad about yer supper, Dad," she said, and she almost + entered the room, but suddenly faltered, overcome by a feminine instinct + to fly from this black interior, peopled with imagined dangers. + </p> + <p> + Again she called, "Daddie!" Her voice had an accent of appeal. It was as + if she knew she was foolish but yet felt obliged to insist upon being + reassured. "Oh, Daddie!" + </p> + <p> + Of a sudden a cry of relief, a feminine announcement that the stars still + hung, burst from her. For, according to some mystic process, the + smoldering coals of the fire went aflame with sudden, fierce brilliance, + splashing parts of the walls, the floor, the crude furniture, with a hue + of blood-red. And in the light of this dramatic outburst of light, the + girl saw her father seated at a table with his back turned toward her. + </p> + <p> + She entered the room, then, with an aggrieved air, her logic evidently + concluding that somebody was to blame for her nervous fright. "Oh, yer + on'y sulkin' 'bout yer supper. I thought mebbe ye'd gone somewheres." + </p> + <p> + Her father made no reply. She went over to a shelf in the corner, and, + taking a little lamp, she lit it and put it where it would give her light + as she took off her hat and jacket in front of the tiny mirror. Presently + she began to bustle among the cooking utensils that were crowded into the + sink, and as she worked she rattled talk at her father, apparently + disdaining his mood. + </p> + <p> + "I'd 'a' come home earlier t'night, Dad, on'y that fly foreman, he kep' me + in th' shop 'til half-past six. What a fool! He came t' me, yeh know, an' + he ses, 'Nell, I wanta give yeh some brotherly advice.' Oh, I know him an' + his brotherly advice. 'I wanta give yeh some brotherly advice. Yer too + purty, Nell,' he ses, 't' be workin' in this shop an' paradin' through the + streets alone, without somebody t' give yeh good brotherly advice, an' I + wanta warn yeh, Nell. I'm a bad man, but I ain't as bad as some, an' I + wanta warn yeh.' 'Oh, g'long 'bout yer business,' I ses. I know 'im. He's + like all of 'em, on'y he's a little slyer. I know 'im. 'You g'long 'bout + yer business,' I ses. Well, he ses after a while that he guessed some + evenin' he'd come up an' see me. 'Oh, yeh will,' I ses, 'yeh will? Well, + you jest let my ol' man ketch yeh comin' foolin' 'round our place. Yeh'll + wish yeh went t' some other girl t' give brotherly advice.' 'What th' 'ell + do I care fer yer father?' he ses. 'What's he t' me?' 'If he throws yeh + downstairs, yeh'll care for 'im,' I ses. 'Well,' he ses, 'I'll come when + 'e ain't in, b' Gawd, I'll come when 'e ain't in.' 'Oh, he's allus in when + it means takin' care 'o me,' I ses. 'Don't yeh fergit it, either. When it + comes t' takin' care o' his dorter, he's right on deck every single + possible time.'" + </p> + <p> + After a time, she turned and addressed cheery words to the old man. "Hurry + up th' fire, Daddie! We'll have supper pretty soon." + </p> + <p> + But still her father was silent, and his form in its sullen posture was + motionless. + </p> + <p> + At this, the girl seemed to see the need of the inauguration of a feminine + war against a man out of temper. She approached him breathing soft, + coaxing syllables. + </p> + <p> + "Daddie! Oh, Daddie! O—o—oh, Daddie!" + </p> + <p> + It was apparent from a subtle quality of valor in her tones that this + manner of onslaught upon his moods had usually been successful, but + to-night it had no quick effect. The words, coming from her lips, were + like the refrain of an old ballad, but the man remained stolid. + </p> + <p> + "Daddie! My Daddie! Oh, Daddie, are yeh mad at me, really—truly mad + at me!" + </p> + <p> + She touched him lightly upon the arm. Should he have turned then he would + have seen the fresh, laughing face, with dew-sparkling eyes, close to his + own. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Daddie! My Daddie! Pretty Daddie!" + </p> + <p> + She stole her arm about his neck, and then slowly bended her face toward + his. It was the action of a queen who knows that she reigns + notwithstanding irritations, trials, tempests. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly, from this position, she leaped backward with the mad energy + of a frightened colt. Her face was in this instant turned to a grey, + featureless thing of horror. A yell, wild and hoarse as a brute-cry, burst + from her. "Daddie!" She flung herself to a place near the door, where she + remained, crouching, her eyes staring at the motionless figure, spattered + by the quivering flashes from the fire. Her arms extended, and her frantic + fingers at once besought and repelled. There was in them an expression of + eagerness to caress and an expression of the most intense loathing. And + the girl's hair that had been a splendor, was in these moments changed to + a disordered mass that hung and swayed in witchlike fashion. + </p> + <p> + Again, a terrible cry burst from her. It was more than the shriek of agony—it + was directed, personal, addressed to him in the chair, the first word of a + tragic conversation with the dead. + </p> + <p> + It seemed that when she had put her arm about its neck, she had jostled + the corpse in such a way that now she and it were face to face. The + attitude expressed an intention of arising from the table. The eyes, fixed + upon hers, were filled with an unspeakable hatred. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The cries of the girl aroused thunders in the tenement. There was a loud + slamming of doors, and presently there was a roar of feet upon the boards + of the stairway. Voices rang out sharply. + </p> + <p> + "What is it?" + </p> + <p> + "What's th' matter?" + </p> + <p> + "He's killin' her!" + </p> + <p> + "Slug 'im with anythin' yeh kin lay hold of, Jack!" + </p> + <p> + But over all this came the shrill, shrewish tones of a woman. "Ah, th' + damned ol' fool, he's drivin' 'er inteh th' street—that's what he's + doin'. He's drivin' 'er inteh th' street." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A DARK-BROWN DOG + </h2> + <p> + A child was standing on a street-corner. He leaned with one shoulder + against a high board fence and swayed the other to and fro, the while + kicking carelessly at the gravel. + </p> + <p> + Sunshine beat upon the cobbles, and a lazy summer wind raised yellow dust + which trailed in clouds down the avenue. Clattering trucks moved with + indistinctness through it. The child stood dreamily gazing. + </p> + <p> + After a time, a little dark-brown dog came trotting with an intent air + down the sidewalk. A short rope was dragging from his neck. Occasionally + he trod upon the end of it and stumbled. + </p> + <p> + He stopped opposite the child, and the two regarded each other. The dog + hesitated for a moment, but presently he made some little advances with + his tail. The child put out his hand and called him. In an apologetic + manner the dog came close, and the two had an interchange of friendly + pattings and waggles. The dog became more enthusiastic with each moment of + the interview, until with his gleeful caperings he threatened to overturn + the child. Whereupon the child lifted his hand and struck the dog a blow + upon the head. + </p> + <p> + This thing seemed to overpower and astonish the little dark-brown dog, and + wounded him to the heart. He sank down in despair at the child's feet. + When the blow was repeated, together with an admonition in childish + sentences, he turned over upon his back, and held his paws in a peculiar + manner. At the same time with his ears and his eyes he offered a small + prayer to the child. + </p> + <p> + He looked so comical on his back, and holding his paws peculiarly, that + the child was greatly amused and gave him little taps repeatedly, to keep + him so. But the little dark-brown dog took this chastisement in the most + serious way and no doubt considered that he had committed some grave + crime, for he wriggled contritely and showed his repentance in every way + that was in his power. He pleaded with the child and petitioned him, and + offered more prayers. + </p> + <p> + At last the child grew weary of this amusement and turned toward home. The + dog was praying at the time. He lay on his back and turned his eyes upon + the retreating form. + </p> + <p> + Presently he struggled to his feet and started after the child. The latter + wandered in a perfunctory way toward his home, stopping at times to + investigate various matters. During one of these pauses he discovered the + little dark-brown dog who was following him with the air of a footpad. + </p> + <p> + The child beat his pursuer with a small stick he had found. The dog lay + down and prayed until the child had finished, and resumed his journey. + Then he scrambled erect and took up the pursuit again. + </p> + <p> + On the way to his home the child turned many times and beat the dog, + proclaiming with childish gestures that he held him in contempt as an + unimportant dog, with no value save for a moment. For being this quality + of animal the dog apologized and eloquently expressed regret, but he + continued stealthily to follow the child. His manner grew so very guilty + that he slunk like an assassin. + </p> + <p> + When the child reached his doorstep, the dog was industriously ambling a + few yards in the rear. He became so agitated with shame when he again + confronted the child that he forgot the dragging rope. He tripped upon it + and fell forward. + </p> + <p> + The child sat down on the step and the two had another interview. During + it the dog greatly exerted himself to please the child. He performed a few + gambols with such abandon that the child suddenly saw him to be a valuable + thing. He made a swift, avaricious charge and seized the rope. + </p> + <p> + He dragged his captive into a hall and up many long stairways in a dark + tenement. The dog made willing efforts, but he could not hobble very + skilfully up the stairs because he was very small and soft, and at last + the pace of the engrossed child grew so energetic that the dog became + panic-stricken. In his mind he was being dragged toward a grim unknown. + His eyes grew wild with the terror of it. He began to wiggle his head + frantically and to brace his legs. + </p> + <p> + The child redoubled his exertions. They had a battle on the stairs. The + child was victorious because he was completely absorbed in his purpose, + and because the dog was very small. He dragged his acquirement to the door + of his home, and finally with triumph across the threshold. + </p> + <p> + No one was in. The child sat down on the floor and made overtures to the + dog. These the dog instantly accepted. He beamed with affection upon his + new friend. In a short time they were firm and abiding comrades. + </p> + <p> + When the child's family appeared, they made a great row. The dog was + examined and commented upon and called names. Scorn was leveled at him + from all eyes, so that he became much embarrassed and drooped like a + scorched plant. But the child went sturdily to the center of the floor, + and, at the top of his voice, championed the dog. It happened that he was + roaring protestations, with his arms clasped about the dog's neck, when + the father of the family came in from work. + </p> + <p> + The parent demanded to know what the blazes they were making the kid howl + for. It was explained in many words that the infernal kid wanted to + introduce a disreputable dog into the family. + </p> + <p> + A family council was held. On this depended the dog's fate, but he in no + way heeded, being busily engaged in chewing the end of the child's dress. + </p> + <p> + The affair was quickly ended. The father of the family, it appears, was in + a particularly savage temper that evening, and when he perceived that it + would amaze and anger everybody if such a dog were allowed to remain, he + decided that it should be so. The child, crying softly, took his friend + off to a retired part of the room to hobnob with him, while the father + quelled a fierce rebellion of his wife. So it came to pass that the dog + was a member of the household. + </p> + <p> + He and the child were associated together at all times save when the child + slept. The child became a guardian and a friend. If the large folk kicked + the dog and threw things at him, the child made loud and violent + objections. Once when the child had run, protesting loudly, with tears + raining down his face and his arms outstretched, to protect his friend, he + had been struck in the head with a very large saucepan from the hand of + his father, enraged at some seeming lack of courtesy in the dog. Ever + after, the family were careful how they threw things at the dog. Moreover, + the latter grew very skilful in avoiding missiles and feet. In a small + room containing a stove, a table, a bureau and some chairs, he would + display strategic ability of a high order, dodging, feinting and scuttling + about among the furniture. He could force three or four people armed with + brooms, sticks and handfuls of coal, to use all their ingenuity to get in + a blow. And even when they did, it was seldom that they could do him a + serious injury or leave any imprint. + </p> + <p> + But when the child was present these scenes did not occur. It came to be + recognized that if the dog was molested, the child would burst into sobs, + and as the child, when started, was very riotous and practically + unquenchable, the dog had therein a safeguard. + </p> + <p> + However, the child could not always be near. At night, when he was asleep, + his dark-brown friend would raise from some black corner a wild, wailful + cry, a song of infinite loneliness and despair, that would go shuddering + and sobbing among the buildings of the block and cause people to swear. At + these times the singer would often be chased all over the kitchen and hit + with a great variety of articles. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, too, the child himself used to beat the dog, although it is not + known that he ever had what truly could be called a just cause. The dog + always accepted these thrashings with an air of admitted guilt. He was too + much of a dog to try to look to be a martyr or to plot revenge. He + received the blows with deep humility, and furthermore he forgave his + friend the moment the child had finished, and was ready to caress the + child's hand with his little red tongue. + </p> + <p> + When misfortune came upon the child, and his troubles overwhelmed him, he + would often crawl under the table and lay his small distressed head on the + dog's back. The dog was ever sympathetic. It is not to be supposed that at + such times he took occasion to refer to the unjust beatings his friend, + when provoked, had administered to him. + </p> + <p> + He did not achieve any notable degree of intimacy with the other members + of the family. He had no confidence in them, and the fear that he would + express at their casual approach often exasperated them exceedingly. They + used to gain a certain satisfaction in underfeeding him, but finally his + friend the child grew to watch the matter with some care, and when he + forgot it, the dog was often successful in secret for himself. + </p> + <p> + So the dog prospered. He developed a large bark, which came wondrously + from such a small rug of a dog. He ceased to howl persistently at night. + Sometimes, indeed, in his sleep, he would utter little yells, as from + pain, but that occurred, no doubt, when in his dreams he encountered huge + flaming dogs who threatened him direfully. + </p> + <p> + His devotion to the child grew until it was a sublime thing. He wagged at + his approach; he sank down in despair at his departure. He could detect + the sound of the child's step among all the noises of the neighborhood. It + was like a calling voice to him. + </p> + <p> + The scene of their companionship was a kingdom governed by this terrible + potentate, the child; but neither criticism nor rebellion ever lived for + an instant in the heart of the one subject. Down in the mystic, hidden + fields of his little dog-soul bloomed flowers of love and fidelity and + perfect faith. + </p> + <p> + The child was in the habit of going on many expeditions to observe strange + things in the vicinity. On these occasions his friend usually jogged + aimfully along behind. Perhaps, though, he went ahead. This necessitated + his turning around every quarter-minute to make sure the child was coming. + He was filled with a large idea of the importance of these journeys. He + would carry himself with such an air! He was proud to be the retainer of + so great a monarch. + </p> + <p> + One day, however, the father of the family got quite exceptionally drunk. + He came home and held carnival with the cooking utensils, the furniture + and his wife. He was in the midst of this recreation when the child, + followed by the dark-brown dog, entered the room. They were returning from + their voyages. + </p> + <p> + The child's practised eye instantly noted his father's state. He dived + under the table, where experience had taught him was a rather safe place. + The dog, lacking skill in such matters, was, of course, unaware of the + true condition of affairs. He looked with interested eyes at his friend's + sudden dive. He interpreted it to mean: Joyous gambol. He started to + patter across the floor to join him. He was the picture of a little + dark-brown dog en route to a friend. + </p> + <p> + The head of the family saw him at this moment. He gave a huge howl of joy, + and knocked the dog down with a heavy coffee-pot. The dog, yelling in + supreme astonishment and fear, writhed to his feet and ran for cover. The + man kicked out with a ponderous foot. It caused the dog to swerve as if + caught in a tide. A second blow of the coffee-pot laid him upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + Here the child, uttering loud cries, came valiantly forth like a knight. + The father of the family paid no attention to these calls of the child, + but advanced with glee upon the dog. Upon being knocked down twice in + swift succession, the latter apparently gave up all hope of escape. He + rolled over on his back and held his paws in a peculiar manner. At the + same time with his eyes and his ears he offered up a small prayer. + </p> + <p> + But the father was in a mood for having fun, and it occurred to him that + it would be a fine thing to throw the dog out of the window. So he reached + down and, grabbing the animal by a leg, lifted him, squirming, up. He + swung him two or three times hilariously about his head, and then flung + him with great accuracy through the window. + </p> + <p> + The soaring dog created a surprise in the block. A woman watering plants + in an opposite window gave an involuntary shout and dropped a flower-pot. + A man in another window leaned perilously out to watch the flight of the + dog. A woman who had been hanging out clothes in a yard began to caper + wildly. Her mouth was filled with clothes-pins, but her arms gave vent to + a sort of exclamation. In appearance she was like a gagged prisoner. + Children ran whooping. + </p> + <p> + The dark-brown body crashed in a heap on the roof of a shed five stories + below. From thence it rolled to the pavement of an alleyway. + </p> + <p> + The child in the room far above burst into a long, dirge-like cry, and + toddled hastily out of the room. It took him a long time to reach the + alley, because his size compelled him to go downstairs backward, one step + at a time, and holding with both hands to the step above. + </p> + <p> + When they came for him later, they found him seated by the body of his + dark-brown friend. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PACE OF YOUTH + </h2> + <h3> + I + </h3> + <p> + Stimson stood in a corner and glowered. He was a fierce man and had + indomitable whiskers, albeit he was very small. + </p> + <p> + "That young tarrier," he whispered to himself. "He wants to quit makin' + eyes at Lizzie. This is too much of a good thing. First thing you know, + he'll get fired." + </p> + <p> + His brow creased in a frown, he strode over to the huge open doors and + looked at a sign. "Stimson's Mammoth Merry-Go-Round," it read, and the + glory of it was great. Stimson stood and contemplated the sign. It was an + enormous affair; the letters were as large as men. The glow of it, the + grandeur of it was very apparent to Stimson. At the end of his + contemplation, he shook his head thoughtfully, determinedly. "No, no," he + muttered. "This is too much of a good thing. First thing you know, he'll + get fired." + </p> + <p> + A soft booming sound of surf, mingled with the cries of bathers, came from + the beach. There was a vista of sand and sky and sea that drew to a mystic + point far away in the northward. In the mighty angle, a girl in a red + dress was crawling slowly like some kind of a spider on the fabric of + nature. A few flags hung lazily above where the bathhouses were marshalled + in compact squares. Upon the edge of the sea stood a ship with its shadowy + sails painted dimly upon the sky, and high overhead in the still, sun-shot + air a great hawk swung and drifted slowly. + </p> + <p> + Within the Merry-Go-Round there was a whirling circle of ornamental lions, + giraffes, camels, ponies, goats, glittering with varnish and metal that + caught swift reflections from windows high above them. With stiff wooden + legs, they swept on in a never-ending race, while a great orchestrion + clamored in wild speed. The summer sunlight sprinkled its gold upon the + garnet canopies carried by the tireless racers and upon all the devices of + decoration that made Stimson's machine magnificent and famous. A host of + laughing children bestrode the animals, bending forward like charging + cavalrymen, and shaking reins and whooping in glee. At intervals they + leaned out perilously to clutch at iron rings that were tendered to them + by a long wooden arm. At the intense moment before the swift grab for the + rings one could see their little nervous bodies quiver with eagerness; the + laughter rang shrill and excited. Down in the long rows of benches, crowds + of people sat watching the game, while occasionally a father might arise + and go near to shout encouragement, cautionary commands, or applause at + his flying offspring. Frequently mothers called out: "Be careful, + Georgie!" The orchestrion bellowed and thundered on its platform, filling + the ears with its long monotonous song. Over in a corner, a man in a white + apron and behind a counter roared above the tumult: "Popcorn! Popcorn!" + </p> + <p> + A young man stood upon a small, raised platform, erected in a manner of a + pulpit, and just without the line of the circling figures. It was his duty + to manipulate the wooden arm and affix the rings. When all were gone into + the hands of the triumphant children, he held forth a basket, into which + they returned all save the coveted brass one, which meant another ride + free and made the holder very illustrious. The young man stood all day + upon his narrow platform, affixing rings or holding forth the basket. He + was a sort of general squire in these lists of childhood. He was very + busy. + </p> + <p> + And yet Stimson, the astute, had noticed that the young man frequently + found time to twist about on his platform and smile at a girl who shyly + sold tickets behind a silvered netting. This, indeed, was the great reason + of Stimson's glowering. The young man upon the raised platform had no + manner of license to smile at the girl behind the silvered netting. It was + a most gigantic insolence. Stimson was amazed at it. "By Jiminy," he said + to himself again, "that fellow is smiling at my daughter." Even in this + tone of great wrath it could be discerned that Stimson was filled with + wonder that any youth should dare smile at the daughter in the presence of + the august father. + </p> + <p> + Often the dark-eyed girl peered between the shining wires, and, upon being + detected by the young man, she usually turned her head quickly to prove to + him that she was not interested. At other times, however, her eyes seemed + filled with a tender fear lest he should fall from that exceedingly + dangerous platform. As for the young man, it was plain that these glances + filled him with valor, and he stood carelessly upon his perch, as if he + deemed it of no consequence that he might fall from it. In all the + complexities of his daily life and duties he found opportunity to gaze + ardently at the vision behind the netting. + </p> + <p> + This silent courtship was conducted over the heads of the crowd who + thronged about the bright machine. The swift eloquent glances of the young + man went noiselessly and unseen with their message. There had finally + become established between the two in this manner a subtle understanding + and companionship. They communicated accurately all that they felt. The + boy told his love, his reverence, his hope in the changes of the future. + The girl told him that she loved him, and she did not love him, that she + did not know if she loved him. Sometimes a little sign, saying "cashier" + in gold letters, and hanging upon the silvered netting, got directly in + range and interfered with the tender message. + </p> + <p> + The love affair had not continued without anger, unhappiness, despair. The + girl had once smiled brightly upon a youth who came to buy some tickets + for his little sister, and the young man upon the platform, observing this + smile, had been filled with gloomy rage. He stood like a dark statue of + vengeance upon his pedestal and thrust out the basket to the children with + a gesture that was full of scorn for their hollow happiness, for their + insecure and temporary joy. For five hours he did not once look at the + girl when she was looking at him. He was going to crush her with his + indifference; he was going to demonstrate that he had never been serious. + However, when he narrowly observed her in secret he discovered that she + seemed more blythe than was usual with her. When he found that his + apparent indifference had not crushed her he suffered greatly. She did not + love him, he concluded. If she had loved him she would have been crushed. + For two days he lived a miserable existence upon his high perch. He + consoled himself by thinking of how unhappy he was, and by swift, furtive + glances at the loved face. At any rate he was in her presence, and he + could get a good view from his perch when there was no interference by the + little sign: "Cashier." + </p> + <p> + But suddenly, swiftly, these clouds vanished, and under the imperial blue + sky of the restored confidence they dwelt in peace, a peace that was + satisfaction, a peace that, like a babe, put its trust in the treachery of + the future. This confidence endured until the next day, when she, for an + unknown cause, suddenly refused to look at him. Mechanically he continued + his task, his brain dazed, a tortured victim of doubt, fear, suspicion. + With his eyes he supplicated her to telegraph an explanation. She replied + with a stony glance that froze his blood. There was a great difference in + their respective reasons for becoming angry. His were always foolish, but + apparent, plain as the moon. Hers were subtle, feminine, as + incomprehensible as the stars, as mysterious as the shadows at night. + </p> + <p> + They fell and soared and soared and fell in this manner until they knew + that to live without each other would be a wandering in deserts. They had + grown so intent upon the uncertainties, the variations, the guessings of + their affair that the world had become but a huge immaterial background. + In time of peace their smiles were soft and prayerful, caresses confided + to the air. In time of war, their youthful hearts, capable of profound + agony, were wrung by the intricate emotions of doubt. They were the + victims of the dread angel of affectionate speculation that forces the + brain endlessly on roads that lead nowhere. + </p> + <p> + At night, the problem of whether she loved him confronted the young man + like a spectre, looming as high as a hill and telling him not to delude + himself. Upon the following day, this battle of the night displayed itself + in the renewed fervor of his glances and in their increased number. + Whenever he thought he could detect that she too was suffering, he felt a + thrill of joy. + </p> + <p> + But there came a time when the young man looked back upon these + contortions with contempt. He believed then that he had imagined his pain. + This came about when the redoubtable Stimson marched forward to + participate. + </p> + <p> + "This has got to stop," Stimson had said to himself, as he stood and + watched them. They had grown careless of the light world that clattered + about them; they were become so engrossed in their personal drama that the + language of their eyes was almost as obvious as gestures. And Stimson, + through his keenness, his wonderful, infallible penetration, suddenly came + into possession of these obvious facts. "Well, of all the nerves," he + said, regarding with a new interest the young man upon the perch. + </p> + <p> + He was a resolute man. He never hesitated to grapple with a crisis. He + decided to overturn everything at once, for, although small, he was very + fierce and impetuous. He resolved to crush this dreaming. + </p> + <p> + He strode over to the silvered netting. "Say, you want to quit your + everlasting grinning at that idiot," he said, grimly. + </p> + <p> + The girl cast down her eyes and made a little heap of quarters into a + stack. She was unable to withstand the terrible scrutiny of her small and + fierce father. + </p> + <p> + Stimson turned from his daughter and went to a spot beneath the platform. + He fixed his eyes upon the young man and said— + </p> + <p> + "I've been speakin' to Lizzie. You better attend strictly to your own + business or there'll be a new man here next week." It was as if he had + blazed away with a shotgun. The young man reeled upon his perch. At last + he in a measure regained his composure and managed to stammer: "A—all + right, sir." He knew that denials would be futile with the terrible + Stimson. He agitatedly began to rattle the rings in the basket, and + pretend that he was obliged to count them or inspect them in some way. He, + too, was unable to face the great Stimson. + </p> + <p> + For a moment, Stimson stood in fine satisfaction and gloated over the + effect of his threat. + </p> + <p> + "I've fixed them," he said complacently, and went out to smoke a cigar and + revel in himself. Through his mind went the proud reflection that people + who came in contact with his granite will usually ended in quick and + abject submission. + </p> + <h3> + II + </h3> + <p> + One evening, a week after Stimson had indulged in the proud reflection + that people who came in contact with his granite will usually ended in + quick and abject submission, a young feminine friend of the girl behind + the silvered netting came to her there and asked her to walk on the beach + after "Stimson's Mammoth Merry-Go-Round" was closed for the night. The + girl assented with a nod. + </p> + <p> + The young man upon the perch holding the rings saw this nod and judged its + meaning. Into his mind came an idea of defeating the watchfulness of the + redoubtable Stimson. When the Merry-Go-Round was closed and the two girls + started for the beach, he wandered off aimlessly in another direction, but + he kept them in view, and as soon as he was assured that he had escaped + the vigilance of Stimson, he followed them. + </p> + <p> + The electric lights on the beach made a broad band of tremoring light, + extending parallel to the sea, and upon the wide walk there slowly paraded + a great crowd, intermingling, intertwining, sometimes colliding. In the + darkness stretched the vast purple expanse of the ocean, and the deep + indigo sky above was peopled with yellow stars. Occasionally out upon the + water a whirling mass of froth suddenly flashed into view, like a great + ghostly robe appearing, and then vanished, leaving the sea in its + darkness, whence came those bass tones of the water's unknown emotion. A + wind, cool, reminiscent of the wave wastes, made the women hold their + wraps about their throats, and caused the men to grip the rims of their + straw hats. It carried the noise of the band in the pavilion in gusts. + Sometimes people unable to hear the music glanced up at the pavilion and + were reassured upon beholding the distant leader still gesticulating and + bobbing, and the other members of the band with their lips glued to their + instruments. High in the sky soared an unassuming moon, faintly silver. + </p> + <p> + For a time the young man was afraid to approach the two girls; he followed + them at a distance and called himself a coward. At last, however, he saw + them stop on the outer edge of the crowd and stand silently listening to + the voices of the sea. When he came to where they stood, he was trembling + in his agitation. They had not seen him. + </p> + <p> + "Lizzie," he began. "I——" + </p> + <p> + The girl wheeled instantly and put her hand to her throat. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Frank, how you frightened me," she said—inevitably. + </p> + <p> + "Well, you know, I—I——" he stuttered. + </p> + <p> + But the other girl was one of those beings who are born to attend at + tragedies. She had for love a reverence, an admiration that was greater + the more that she contemplated the fact that she knew nothing of it. This + couple, with their emotions, awed her and made her humbly wish that she + might be destined to be of some service to them. She was very homely. + </p> + <p> + When the young man faltered before them, she, in her sympathy, actually + over-estimated the crisis, and felt that he might fall dying at their + feet. Shyly, but with courage, she marched to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + "Won't you come and walk on the beach with us?" she said. + </p> + <p> + The young man gave her a glance of deep gratitude which was not without + the patronage which a man in his condition naturally feels for one who + pities it. The three walked on. + </p> + <p> + Finally, the being who was born to attend at this tragedy said that she + wished to sit down and gaze at the sea, alone. + </p> + <p> + They politely urged her to walk on with them, but she was obstinate. She + wished to gaze at the sea, alone. The young man swore to himself that he + would be her friend until he died. + </p> + <p> + And so the two young lovers went on without her. They turned once to look + at her. + </p> + <p> + "Jennie's awful nice," said the girl. + </p> + <p> + "You bet she is," replied the young man, ardently. + </p> + <p> + They were silent for a little time. + </p> + <p> + At last the girl said— + </p> + <p> + "You were angry at me yesterday." + </p> + <p> + "No, I wasn't." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, you were, too. You wouldn't look at me once all day." + </p> + <p> + "No, I wasn't angry. I was only putting on." + </p> + <p> + Though she had, of course, known it, this confession seemed to make her + very indignant. She flashed a resentful glance at him. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, you were, indeed?" she said with a great air. + </p> + <p> + For a few minutes she was so haughty with him that he loved her to + madness. And directly this poem, which stuck at his lips, came forth + lamely in fragments. + </p> + <p> + When they walked back toward the other girl and saw the patience of her + attitude, their hearts swelled in a patronizing and secondary tenderness + for her. + </p> + <p> + They were very happy. If they had been miserable they would have charged + this fairy scene of the night with a criminal heartlessness; but as they + were joyous, they vaguely wondered how the purple sea, the yellow stars, + the changing crowds under the electric lights could be so phlegmatic and + stolid. + </p> + <p> + They walked home by the lakeside way, and out upon the water those gay + paper lanterns, flashing, fleeting, and careering, sang to them, sang a + chorus of red and violet, and green and gold; a song of mystic bands of + the future. + </p> + <p> + One day, when business paused during a dull sultry afternoon, Stimson went + up town. Upon his return, he found that the popcorn man, from his stand + over in a corner, was keeping an eye upon the cashier's cage, and that + nobody at all was attending to the wooden arm and the iron rings. He + strode forward like a sergeant of grenadiers. + </p> + <p> + "Where in thunder is Lizzie?" he demanded, a cloud of rage in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + The popcorn man, although associated long with Stimson, had never got over + being dazed. + </p> + <p> + "They've—they've—gone round to th'—th'—house," he + said with difficulty, as if he had just been stunned. + </p> + <p> + "Whose house?" snapped Stimson. + </p> + <p> + "Your—your house, I s'pose," said the popcorn man. + </p> + <p> + Stimson marched round to his home. Kingly denunciations surged, already + formulated, to the tip of his tongue, and he bided the moment when his + anger could fall upon the heads of that pair of children. He found his + wife convulsive and in tears. + </p> + <p> + "Where's Lizzie?" + </p> + <p> + And then she burst forth—"Oh—John—John—they've run + away, I know they have. They drove by here not three minutes ago. They + must have done it on purpose to bid me good-bye, for Lizzie waved her hand + sadlike; and then, before I could get out to ask where they were going or + what, Frank whipped up the horse." + </p> + <p> + Stimson gave vent to a dreadful roar. + </p> + <p> + "Get my revolver—get a hack—get my revolver, do you hear—what + the devil—" His voice became incoherent. + </p> + <p> + He had always ordered his wife about as if she were a battalion of + infantry, and despite her misery, the training of years forced her to + spring mechanically to obey; but suddenly she turned to him with a shrill + appeal. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, John—not—the—revolver." + </p> + <p> + "Confound it, let go of me!" he roared again, and shook her from him. + </p> + <p> + He ran hatless upon the street. There were a multitude of hacks at the + summer resort, but it was ages to him before he could find one. Then he + charged it like a bull. + </p> + <p> + "Uptown!" he yelled, as he tumbled into the rear seat. + </p> + <p> + The hackman thought of severed arteries. His galloping horse distanced a + large number of citizens who had been running to find what caused such + contortions by the little hatless man. + </p> + <p> + It chanced as the bouncing hack went along near the lake, Stimson gazed + across the calm grey expanse and recognized a color in a bonnet and a pose + of a head. A buggy was traveling along a highway that led to Sorington. + Stimson bellowed—"There—there—there they are—in + that buggy." + </p> + <p> + The hackman became inspired with the full knowledge of the situation. He + struck a delirious blow with the whip. His mouth expanded in a grin of + excitement and joy. It came to pass that this old vehicle, with its drowsy + horse and its dusty-eyed and tranquil driver, seemed suddenly to awaken, + to become animated and fleet. The horse ceased to ruminate on his state, + his air of reflection vanished. He became intent upon his aged legs and + spread them in quaint and ridiculous devices for speed. The driver, his + eyes shining, sat critically in his seat. He watched each motion of this + rattling machine down before him. He resembled an engineer. He used the + whip with judgment and deliberation as the engineer would have used coal + or oil. The horse clacked swiftly upon the macadam, the wheels hummed, the + body of the vehicle wheezed and groaned. + </p> + <p> + Stimson, in the rear seat, was erect in that impassive attitude that comes + sometimes to the furious man when he is obliged to leave the battle to + others. Frequently, however, the tempest in his breast came to his face + and he howled— + </p> + <p> + "Go it—go it—you're gaining; pound 'im! Thump the life out of + 'im; hit 'im hard, you fool!" His hand grasped the rod that supported the + carriage top, and it was clenched so that the nails were faintly blue. + </p> + <p> + Ahead, that other carriage had been flying with speed, as from realization + of the menace in the rear. It bowled away rapidly, drawn by the eager + spirit of a young and modern horse. Stimson could see the buggy-top + bobbing, bobbing. That little pane, like an eye, was a derision to him. + Once he leaned forward and bawled angry sentences. He began to feel + impotent; his whole expedition was a tottering of an old man upon a trail + of birds. A sense of age made him choke again with wrath. That other + vehicle, that was youth, with youth's pace; it was swift-flying with the + hope of dreams. He began to comprehend those two children ahead of him, + and he knew a sudden and strange awe, because he understood the power of + their young blood, the power to fly strongly into the future and feel and + hope again, even at that time when his bones must be laid in the earth. + The dust rose easily from the hot road and stifled the nostrils of + Stimson. + </p> + <p> + The highway vanished far away in a point with a suggestion of intolerable + length. The other vehicle was becoming so small that Stimson could no + longer see the derisive eye. + </p> + <p> + At last the hackman drew rein to his horse and turned to look at Stimson. + </p> + <p> + "No use, I guess," he said. + </p> + <p> + Stimson made a gesture of acquiescence, rage, despair. As the hackman + turned his dripping horse about, Stimson sank back with the astonishment + and grief of a man who has been defied by the universe. He had been in a + great perspiration, and now his bald head felt cool and uncomfortable. He + put up his hand with a sudden recollection that he had forgotten his hat. + </p> + <p> + At last he made a gesture. It meant that at any rate he was not + responsible. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A TENT IN AGONY + </h2> + <h3> + A SULLIVAN COUNTY TALE + </h3> + <p> + Four men once came to a wet place in the roadless forest to fish. They + pitched their tent fair upon the brow of a pine-clothed ridge of riven + rocks whence a bowlder could be made to crash through the brush and whirl + past the trees to the lake below. On fragrant hemlock boughs they slept + the sleep of unsuccessful fishermen, for upon the lake alternately the sun + made them lazy and the rain made them wet. Finally they ate the last bit + of bacon and smoked and burned the last fearful and wonderful hoecake. + </p> + <p> + Immediately a little man volunteered to stay and hold the camp while the + remaining three should go the Sullivan county miles to a farmhouse for + supplies. They gazed at him dismally. "There's only one of you—the + devil make a twin," they said in parting malediction, and disappeared down + the hill in the known direction of a distant cabin. When it came night and + the hemlocks began to sob they had not returned. The little man sat close + to his companion, the campfire, and encouraged it with logs. He puffed + fiercely at a heavy built brier, and regarded a thousand shadows which + were about to assault him. Suddenly he heard the approach of the unknown, + crackling the twigs and rustling the dead leaves. The little man arose + slowly to his feet, his clothes refused to fit his back, his pipe dropped + from his mouth, his knees smote each other. "Hah!" he bellowed hoarsely in + menace. A growl replied and a bear paced into the light of the fire. The + little man supported himself upon a sapling and regarded his visitor. + </p> + <p> + The bear was evidently a veteran and a fighter, for the black of his coat + had become tawny with age. There was confidence in his gait and arrogance + in his small, twinkling eye. He rolled back his lips and disclosed his + white teeth. The fire magnified the red of his mouth. The little man had + never before confronted the terrible and he could not wrest it from his + breast. "Hah!" he roared. The bear interpreted this as the challenge of a + gladiator. He approached warily. As he came near, the boots of fear were + suddenly upon the little man's feet. He cried out and then darted around + the campfire. "Ho!" said the bear to himself, "this thing won't fight—it + runs. Well, suppose I catch it." So upon his features there fixed the + animal look of going—somewhere. He started intensely around the + campfire. The little man shrieked and ran furiously. Twice around they + went. + </p> + <p> + The hand of heaven sometimes falls heavily upon the righteous. The bear + gained. + </p> + <p> + In desperation the little man flew into the tent. The bear stopped and + sniffed at the entrance. He scented the scent of many men. Finally he + ventured in. + </p> + <p> + The little man crouched in a distant corner. The bear advanced, creeping, + his blood burning, his hair erect, his jowls dripping. The little man + yelled and rustled clumsily under the flap at the end of the tent. The + bear snarled awfully and made a jump and a grab at his disappearing game. + The little man, now without the tent, felt a tremendous paw grab his coat + tails. He squirmed and wriggled out of his coat like a schoolboy in the + hands of an avenger. The bear bowled triumphantly and jerked the coat into + the tent and took two bites, a punch and a hug before he, discovered his + man was not in it. Then he grew not very angry, for a bear on a spree is + not a black-haired pirate. He is merely a hoodlum. He lay down on his + back, took the coat on his four paws and began to play uproariously with + it. The most appalling, blood-curdling whoops and yells came to where the + little man was crying in a treetop and froze his blood. He moaned a little + speech meant for a prayer and clung convulsively to the bending branches. + He gazed with tearful wistfulness at where his comrade, the campfire, was + giving dying flickers and crackles. Finally, there was a roar from the + tent which eclipsed all roars; a snarl which it seemed would shake the + stolid silence of the mountain and cause it to shrug its granite + shoulders. The little man quaked and shrivelled to a grip and a pair of + eyes. In the glow of the embers he saw the white tent quiver and fall with + a crash. The bear's merry play had disturbed the center pole and brought a + chaos of canvas upon his head. + </p> + <p> + Now the little man became the witness of a mighty scene. The tent began to + flounder. It took flopping strides in the direction of the lake. + Marvellous sounds came from within—rips and tears, and great groans + and pants. The little man went into giggling hysterics. + </p> + <p> + The entangled monster failed to extricate himself before he had walloped + the tent frenziedly to the edge of the mountain. So it came to pass that + three men, clambering up the hill with bundles and baskets, saw their tent + approaching. It seemed to them like a white-robed phantom pursued by + hornets. Its moans riffled the hemlock twigs. + </p> + <p> + The three men dropped their bundles and scurried to one side, their eyes + gleaming with fear. The canvas avalanche swept past them. They leaned, + faint and dumb, against trees and listened, their blood stagnant. Below + them it struck the base of a great pine tree, where it writhed and + struggled. The three watched its convolutions a moment and then started + terrifically for the top of the hill. As they disappeared, the bear cut + loose with a mighty effort. He cast one dishevelled and agonized look at + the white thing, and then started wildly for the inner recesses of the + forest. + </p> + <p> + The three fear-stricken individuals ran to the rebuilt fire. The little + man reposed by it calmly smoking. They sprang at him and overwhelmed him + with interrogations. He contemplated darkness and took a long, pompous + puff. "There's only one of me—and the devil made a twin," he said. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + FOUR MEN IN A CAVE + </h2> + <h3> + LIKEWISE FOUR QUEENS, AND A SULLIVAN COUNTY HERMIT + </h3> + <p> + The moon rested for a moment on the top of a tall pine on a hill. + </p> + <p> + The little man was standing in front of the campfire making orations to + his companions. + </p> + <p> + "We can tell a great tale when we get back to the city if we investigate + this thing," said he, in conclusion. + </p> + <p> + They were won. + </p> + <p> + The little man was determined to explore a cave, because its black mouth + had gaped at him. The four men took a lighted pine-knot and clambered over + boulders down a hill. In a thicket on the mountainside lay a little tilted + hole. At its side they halted. + </p> + <p> + "Well?" said the little man. + </p> + <p> + They fought for last place and the little man was overwhelmed. He tried to + struggle from under by crying that if the fat, pudgy man came after, he + would be corked. But he finally administered a cursing over his shoulder + and crawled into the hole. His companions gingerly followed. + </p> + <p> + A passage, the floor of damp clay and pebbles, the walls slimy, + green-mossed, and dripping, sloped downward. In the cave atmosphere the + torches became studies in red blaze and black smoke. + </p> + <p> + "Ho!" cried the little man, stifled and bedraggled, "let's go back." His + companions were not brave. They were last. The next one to the little man + pushed him on, so the little man said sulphurous words and cautiously + continued his crawl. + </p> + <p> + Things that hung seemed to be on the wet, uneven ceiling, ready to drop + upon the men's bare necks. Under their hands the clammy floor seemed alive + and writhing. When the little man endeavored to stand erect the ceiling + forced him down. Knobs and points came out and punched him. His clothes + were wet and mud-covered, and his eyes, nearly blinded by smoke, tried to + pierce the darkness always before his torch. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I say, you fellows, let's go back," cried he. At that moment he + caught the gleam of trembling light in the blurred shadows before him. + </p> + <p> + "Ho!" he said, "here's another way out." + </p> + <p> + The passage turned abruptly. The little man put one hand around the + corner, but it touched nothing. He investigated and discovered that the + little corridor took a sudden dip down a hill. At the bottom shone a + yellow light. + </p> + <p> + The little man wriggled painfully about, and descended feet in advance. + The others followed his plan. All picked their way with anxious care. The + traitorous rocks rolled from beneath the little man's feet and roared + thunderously below him, lesser stone loosened by the men above him, hit + him on the back. He gained seemingly firm foothold, and, turning halfway + about, swore redly at his companions for dolts and careless fools. The + pudgy man sat, puffing and perspiring, high in the rear of the procession. + The fumes and smoke from four pine-knots were in his blood. Cinders and + sparks lay thick in his eyes and hair. The pause of the little man angered + him. + </p> + <p> + "Go on, you fool!" he shouted. "Poor, painted man, you are afraid." + </p> + <p> + "Ho!" said the little man. "Come down here and go on yourself, imbecile!" + </p> + <p> + The pudgy man vibrated with passion. He leaned downward. "Idiot—" + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by one of his feet which flew out and crashed into the + man in front of and below. It is not well to quarrel upon a slippery + incline, when the unknown is below. The fat man, having lost the support + of one pillar-like foot, lurched forward. His body smote the next man, who + hurtled into the next man. Then they all fell upon the cursing little man. + </p> + <p> + They slid in a body down over the slippery, slimy floor of the passage. + The stone avenue must have wibble-wobbled with the rush of this ball of + tangled men and strangled cries. The torches went out with the combined + assault upon the little man. The adventurers whirled to the unknown in + darkness. The little man felt that he was pitching to death, but even in + his convolutions he bit and scratched at his companions, for he was + satisfied that it was their fault. The swirling mass went some twenty + feet, and lit upon a level, dry place in a strong, yellow light of + candles. It dissolved and became eyes. + </p> + <p> + The four men lay in a heap upon the floor of a grey chamber. A small fire + smoldered in the corner, the smoke disappearing in a crack. In another + corner was a bed of faded hemlock boughs and two blankets. Cooking + utensils and clothes lay about, with boxes and a barrel. + </p> + <p> + Of these things the four men took small cognisance. The pudgy man did not + curse the little man, nor did the little man swear, in the abstract. Eight + widened eyes were fixed upon the center of the room of rocks. + </p> + <p> + A great, gray stone, cut squarely, like an altar, sat in the middle of the + floor. Over it burned three candles, in swaying tin cups hung from the + ceiling. Before it, with what seemed to be a small volume clasped in his + yellow fingers, stood a man. He was an infinitely sallow person in the + brown-checked shirt of the ploughs and cows. The rest of his apparel was + boots. A long grey beard dangled from his chin. He fixed glinting, fiery + eyes upon the heap of men, and remained motionless. Fascinated, their + tongues cleaving, their blood cold, they arose to their feet. The gleaming + glance of the recluse swept slowly over the group until it found the face + of the little man. There it stayed and burned. + </p> + <p> + The little man shrivelled and crumpled as the dried leaf under the glass. + </p> + <p> + Finally, the recluse slowly, deeply spoke. It was a true voice from a + cave, cold, solemn, and damp. + </p> + <p> + "It's your ante," he said. + </p> + <p> + "What?" said the little man. + </p> + <p> + The hermit tilted his beard and laughed a laugh that was either the + chatter of a banshee in a storm or the rattle of pebbles in a tin box. His + visitors' flesh seemed ready to drop from their bones. + </p> + <p> + They huddled together and cast fearful eyes over their shoulders. They + whispered. + </p> + <p> + "A vampire!" said one. + </p> + <p> + "A ghoul!" said another. + </p> + <p> + "A Druid before the sacrifice," murmured another. + </p> + <p> + "The shade of an Aztec witch doctor," said the little man. + </p> + <p> + As they looked, the inscrutable face underwent a change. It became a livid + background for his eyes, which blazed at the little man like impassioned + carbuncles. His voice arose to a howl of ferocity. "It's your ante!" With + a panther-like motion he drew a long, thin knife and advanced, stooping. + Two cadaverous hounds came from nowhere, and, scowling and growling, made + desperate feints at the little man's legs. His quaking companions pushed + him forward. + </p> + <p> + Tremblingly he put his hand to his pocket. + </p> + <p> + "How much?" he said, with a shivering look at the knife that glittered. + </p> + <p> + The carbuncles faded. + </p> + <p> + "Three dollars," said the hermit, in sepulchral tones which rang against + the walls and among the passages, awakening long-dead spirits with voices. + The shaking little man took a roll of bills from a pocket and placed + "three ones" upon the altar-like stone. The recluse looked at the little + volume with reverence in his eyes. It was a pack of playing cards. + </p> + <p> + Under the three swinging candles, upon the altar-like stone, the grey + beard and the agonized little man played at poker. The three other men + crouched in a corner, and stared with eyes that gleamed with terror. + Before them sat the cadaverous hounds licking their red lips. The candles + burned low, and began to flicker. The fire in the corner expired. + </p> + <p> + Finally, the game came to a point where the little man laid down his hand + and quavered: "I can't call you this time, sir. I'm dead broke." + </p> + <p> + "What?" shrieked the recluse. "Not call me! Villain Dastard! Cur! I have + four queens, miscreant." His voice grew so mighty that it could not fit + his throat. He choked wrestling with his lungs for a moment. Then the + power of his body was concentrated in a word: "Go!" + </p> + <p> + He pointed a quivering, yellow finger at a wide crack in the rock. The + little man threw himself at it with a howl. His erstwhile frozen + companions felt their blood throb again. With great bounds they plunged + after the little man. A minute of scrambling, falling, and pushing brought + them to open air. They climbed the distance to their camp in furious + springs. + </p> + <p> + The sky in the east was a lurid yellow. In the west the footprints of + departing night lay on the pine trees. In front of their replenished camp + fire sat John Willerkins, the guide. + </p> + <p> + "Hello!" he shouted at their approach. "Be you fellers ready to go deer + huntin'?" + </p> + <p> + Without replying, they stopped and debated among themselves in whispers. + </p> + <p> + Finally, the pudgy man came forward. + </p> + <p> + "John," he inquired, "do you know anything peculiar about this cave below + here?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said Willerkins at once; "Tom Gardner." + </p> + <p> + "What?" said the pudgy man. + </p> + <p> + "Tom Gardner." + </p> + <p> + "How's that?" + </p> + <p> + "Well, you see," said Willerkins slowly, as he took dignified pulls at his + pipe, "Tom Gardner was once a fambly man, who lived in these here parts on + a nice leetle farm. He uster go away to the city orften, and one time he + got a-gamblin' in one of them there dens. He went ter the dickens right + quick then. At last he kum home one time and tol' his folks he had up and + sold the farm and all he had in the worl'. His leetle wife she died then. + Tom he went crazy, and soon after—" + </p> + <p> + The narrative was interrupted by the little man, who became possessed of + devils. + </p> + <p> + "I wouldn't give a cuss if he had left me 'nough money to get home on the + doggoned, grey-haired red pirate," he shrilled, in a seething sentence. + The pudgy man gazed at the little man calmly and sneeringly. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, well," he said, "we can tell a great tale when we get back to the + city after having investigated this thing." + </p> + <p> + "Go to the devil," replied the little man. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MESMERIC MOUNTAIN + </h2> + <h3> + A TALE OF SULLIVAN COUNTY + </h3> + <p> + On the brow of a pine-plumed hillock there sat a little man with his back + against a tree. A venerable pipe hung from his mouth, and smoke-wreaths + curled slowly skyward, he was muttering to himself with his eyes fixed on + an irregular black opening in the green wall of forest at the foot of the + hill. Two vague wagon ruts led into the shadows. The little man took his + pipe in his hands and addressed the listening pines. + </p> + <p> + "I wonder what the devil it leads to," said he. + </p> + <p> + A grey, fat rabbit came lazily from a thicket and sat in the opening. + Softly stroking his stomach with his paw, he looked at the little man in a + thoughtful manner. The little man threw a stone, and the rabbit blinked + and ran through an opening. Green, shadowy portals seemed to close behind + him. + </p> + <p> + The little man started. "He's gone down that roadway," he said, with + ecstatic mystery to the pines. He sat a long time and contemplated the + door to the forest. Finally, he arose, and awakening his limbs, started + away. But he stopped and looked back. + </p> + <p> + "I can't imagine what it leads to," muttered he. He trudged over the brown + mats of pine needles, to where, in a fringe of laurel, a tent was pitched, + and merry flames caroused about some logs. A pudgy man was fuming over a + collection of tin dishes. He came forward and waved a plate furiously in + the little man's face. + </p> + <p> + "I've washed the dishes for three days. What do you think I am—" + </p> + <p> + He ended a red oration with a roar: "Damned if I do it any more." + </p> + <p> + The little man gazed dim-eyed away. "I've been wonderin' what it leads + to." + </p> + <p> + "What?" + </p> + <p> + "That road out yonder. I've been wonderin' what it leads to. Maybe, some + discovery or something," said the little man. + </p> + <p> + The pudgy man laughed. "You're an idiot. It leads to ol' Jim Boyd's over + on the Lumberland Pike." + </p> + <p> + "Ho!" said the little man, "I don't believe that." + </p> + <p> + The pudgy man swore. "Fool, what does it lead to, then?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't know just what, but I'm sure it leads to something great or + something. It looks like it." + </p> + <p> + While the pudgy man was cursing, two more men came from obscurity with + fish dangling from birch twigs. The pudgy man made an obviously herculean + struggle and a meal was prepared. As he was drinking his cup of coffee, he + suddenly spilled it and swore. The little man was wandering off. + </p> + <p> + "He's gone to look at that hole," cried the pudgy man. + </p> + <p> + The little man went to the edge of the pine-plumed hillock, and, sitting + down, began to make smoke and regard the door to the forest. There was + stillness for an hour. Compact clouds hung unstirred in the sky. The pines + stood motionless, and pondering. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the little man slapped his knees and bit his tongue. He stood up + and determinedly filled his pipe, rolling his eye over the bowl to the + doorway. Keeping his eyes fixed he slid dangerously to the foot of the + hillock and walked down the wagon ruts. A moment later he passed from the + noise of the sunshine to the gloom of the woods. + </p> + <p> + The green portals closed, shutting out live things. The little man trudged + on alone. + </p> + <p> + Tall tangled grass grew in the roadway, and the trees bended obstructing + branches. The little man followed on over pine-clothed ridges and down + through water-soaked swales. His shoes were cut by rocks of the mountains, + and he sank ankle-deep in mud and moss of swamps. A curve just ahead lured + him miles. + </p> + <p> + Finally, as he wended the side of a ridge, the road disappeared from + beneath his feet. He battled with hordes of ignorant bushes on his way to + knolls and solitary trees which invited him. Once he came to a tall, + bearded pine. He climbed it, and perceived in the distance a peak. He + uttered an ejaculation and fell out. + </p> + <p> + He scrambled to his feet, and said: "That's Jones's Mountain, I guess. + It's about six miles from our camp as the crow flies." + </p> + <p> + He changed his course away from the mountain, and attacked the bushes + again. He climbed over great logs, golden-brown in decay, and was opposed + by thickets of dark-green laurel. A brook slid through the ooze of a + swamp, cedars and hemlocks hung their spray to the edges of pools. + </p> + <p> + The little man began to stagger in his walk. After a time he stopped and + mopped his brow. + </p> + <p> + "My legs are about to shrivel up and drop off," he said.... "Still if I + keep on in this direction, I am safe to strike the Lumberland Pike before + sundown." + </p> + <p> + He dived at a clump of tag-alders, and emerging, confronted Jones's + Mountain. + </p> + <p> + The wanderer sat down in a clear space and fixed his eyes on the summit. + His mouth opened widely, and his body swayed at times. The little man and + the peak stared in silence. + </p> + <p> + A lazy lake lay asleep near the foot of the mountain. In its bed of + water-grass some frogs leered at the sky and crooned. The sun sank in red + silence, and the shadows of the pines grew formidable. The expectant hush + of evening, as if some thing were going to sing a hymn, fell upon the peak + and the little man. + </p> + <p> + A leaping pickerel off on the water created a silver circle that was lost + in black shadows. The little man shook himself and started to his feet, + crying: "For the love of Mike, there's eyes in this mountain! I feel 'em! + Eyes!" + </p> + <p> + He fell on his face. + </p> + <p> + When he looked again, he immediately sprang erect and ran. + </p> + <p> + "It's comin'!" + </p> + <p> + The mountain was approaching. + </p> + <p> + The little man scurried, sobbing through the thick growth. He felt his + brain turning to water. He vanquished brambles with mighty bounds. + </p> + <p> + But after a time he came again to the foot of the mountain. + </p> + <p> + "God!" he howled, "it's been follerin' me." He grovelled. + </p> + <p> + Casting his eyes upward made circles swirl in his blood. + </p> + <p> + "I'm shackled I guess," he moaned. As he felt the heel of the mountain + about to crush his head, he sprang again to his feet. He grasped a handful + of small stones and hurled them. + </p> + <p> + "Damn you," he shrieked loudly. The pebbles rang against the face of the + mountain. + </p> + <p> + The little man then made an attack. He climbed with hands and feet wildly. + Brambles forced him back and stones slid from beneath his feet. The peak + swayed and tottered, and was ever about to smite with a granite arm. The + summit was a blaze of red wrath. + </p> + <p> + But the little man at last reached the top. Immediately he swaggered with + valor to the edge of the cliff. His hands were scornfully in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + He gazed at the western horizon, edged sharply against a yellow sky. "Ho!" + he said. "There's Boyd's house and the Lumberland Pike." + </p> + <p> + The mountain under his feet was motionless. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SNAKE + </h2> + <p> + Where the path wended across the ridge, the bushes of huckleberry and + sweet fern swarmed at it in two curling waves until it was a mere winding + line traced through a tangle. There was no interference by clouds, and as + the rays of the sun fell full upon the ridge, they called into voice + innumerable insects which chanted the heat of the summer day in steady, + throbbing, unending chorus. + </p> + <p> + A man and a dog came from the laurel thickets of the valley where the + white brook brawled with the rocks. They followed the deep line of the + path across the ridges. The dog—a large lemon and white setter—walked, + tranquilly meditative, at his master's heels. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly from some unknown and yet near place in advance there came a dry, + shrill whistling rattle that smote motion instantly from the limbs of the + man and the dog. Like the fingers of a sudden death, this sound seemed to + touch the man at the nape of the neck, at the top of the spine, and change + him, as swift as thought, to a statue of listening horror, surprise, rage. + The dog, too—the same icy hand was laid upon him, and he stood + crouched and quivering, his jaw dropping, the froth of terror upon his + lips, the light of hatred in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + Slowly the man moved his hands toward the bushes, but his glance did not + turn from the place made sinister by the warning rattle. His fingers, + unguided, sought for a stick of weight and strength. Presently they closed + about one that seemed adequate, and holding this weapon poised before him + the man moved slowly forward, glaring. The dog with his nervous nostrils + fairly fluttering moved warily, one foot at a time, after his master. + </p> + <p> + But when the man came upon the snake, his body underwent a shock as if + from a revelation, as if after all he had been ambushed. With a blanched + face, he sprang forward and his breath came in strained gasps, his chest + heaving as if he were in the performance of an extraordinary muscular + trial. His arm with the stick made a spasmodic, defensive gesture. + </p> + <p> + The snake had apparently been crossing the path in some mystic travel when + to his sense there came the knowledge of the coming of his foes. The dull + vibration perhaps informed him, and he flung his body to face the danger. + He had no knowledge of paths; he had no wit to tell him to slink + noiselessly into the bushes. He knew that his implacable enemies were + approaching; no doubt they were seeking him, hunting him. And so he cried + his cry, an incredibly swift jangle of tiny bells, as burdened with pathos + as the hammering upon quaint cymbals by the Chinese at war—for, + indeed, it was usually his death-music. + </p> + <p> + "Beware! Beware! Beware!" + </p> + <p> + The man and the snake confronted each other. In the man's eyes were hatred + and fear. In the snake's eyes were hatred and fear. These enemies + maneuvered, each preparing to kill. It was to be a battle without mercy. + Neither knew of mercy for such a situation. In the man was all the wild + strength of the terror of his ancestors, of his race, of his kind. A + deadly repulsion had been handed from man to man through long dim + centuries. This was another detail of a war that had begun evidently when + first there were men and snakes. Individuals who do not participate in + this strife incur the investigations of scientists. Once there was a man + and a snake who were friends, and at the end, the man lay dead with the + marks of the snake's caress just over his East Indian heart. In the + formation of devices, hideous and horrible, Nature reached her supreme + point in the making of the snake, so that priests who really paint hell + well fill it with snakes instead of fire. The curving forms, these + scintillant coloring create at once, upon sight, more relentless + animosities than do shake barbaric tribes. To be born a snake is to be + thrust into a place a-swarm with formidable foes. To gain an appreciation + of it, view hell as pictured by priests who are really skilful. + </p> + <p> + As for this snake in the pathway, there was a double curve some inches + back of its head, which, merely by the potency of its lines, made the man + feel with tenfold eloquence the touch of the death-fingers at the nape of + his neck. The reptile's head was waving slowly from side to side and its + hot eyes flashed like little murder-lights. Always in the air was the dry, + shrill whistling of the rattles. + </p> + <p> + "Beware! Beware! Beware!" + </p> + <p> + The man made a preliminary feint with his stick. Instantly the snake's + heavy head and neck were bended back on the double curve and instantly the + snake's body shot forward in a low, strait, hard spring. The man jumped + with a convulsive chatter and swung his stick. The blind, sweeping blow + fell upon the snake's head and hurled him so that steel-colored plates + were for a moment uppermost. But he rallied swiftly, agilely, and again + the head and neck bended back to the double curve, and the steaming, + wide-open mouth made its desperate effort to reach its enemy. This attack, + it could be seen, was despairing, but it was nevertheless impetuous, + gallant, ferocious, of the same quality as the charge of the lone chief + when the walls of white faces close upon him in the mountains. The stick + swung unerringly again, and the snake, mutilated, torn, whirled himself + into the last coil. + </p> + <p> + And now the man went sheer raving mad from the emotions of his forefathers + and from his own. He came to close quarters. He gripped the stick with his + two hands and made it speed like a flail. The snake, tumbling in the + anguish of final despair, fought, bit, flung itself upon this stick which + was taking his life. + </p> + <p> + At the end, the man clutched his stick and stood watching in silence. The + dog came slowly and with infinite caution stretched his nose forward, + sniffing. The hair upon his neck and back moved and ruffled as if a sharp + wind was blowing, the last muscular quivers of the snake were causing the + rattles to still sound their treble cry, the shrill, ringing war chant and + hymn of the grave of the thing that faces foes at once countless, + implacable, and superior. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Rover," said the man, turning to the dog with a grin of victory, + "we'll carry Mr. Snake home to show the girls." + </p> + <p> + His hands still trembled from the strain of the encounter, but he pried + with his stick under the body of the snake and hoisted the limp thing upon + it. He resumed his march along the path, and the dog walked tranquilly + meditative, at his master's heels. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LONDON IMPRESSIONS + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + London at first consisted of a porter with the most charming manners in + the world, and a cabman with a supreme intelligence, both observing my + profound ignorance without contempt or humor of any kind observable in + their manners. It was in a great resounding vault of a place where there + were many people who had come home, and I was displeased because they knew + the detail of the business, whereas I was confronting the inscrutable. + This made them appear very stony-hearted to the sufferings of one of whose + existence, to be sure, they were entirely unaware, and I remember taking + great pleasure in disliking them heartily for it. I was in an agony of + mind over my baggage, or my luggage, or my—perhaps it is well to shy + around this terrible international question; but I remember that when I + was a lad I was told that there was a whole nation that said luggage + instead of baggage, and my boyish mind was filled at the time with + incredulity and scorn. In the present case it was a thing that I + understood to involve the most hideous confessions of imbecility on my + part, because I had evidently to go out to some obscure point and espy it + and claim it, and take trouble for it; and I would rather have had my + pockets filled with bread and cheese, and had no baggage at all. + </p> + <p> + Mind you, this was not at all a homage that I was paying to London. I was + paying homage to a new game. A man properly lazy does not like new + experiences until they become old ones. Moreover, I have been taught that + a man, any man, who has a thousand times more points of information on a + certain thing than I have will bully me because of it, and pour his + advantages upon my bowed head until I am drenched with his superiority. It + was in my education to concede some license of the kind in this case, but + the holy father of a porter and the saintly cabman occupied the middle + distance imperturbably, and did not come down from their hills to clout me + with knowledge. From this fact I experienced a criminal elation. I lost + view of the idea that if I had been brow-beaten by porters and cabmen from + one end of the United States to the other end I should warmly like it, + because in numbers they are superior to me, and collectively they can have + a great deal of fun out of a matter that would merely afford me the glee + of the latent butcher. + </p> + <p> + This London, composed of a porter and a cabman, stood to me subtly as a + benefactor. I had scanned the drama, and found that I did not believe that + the mood of the men emanated unduly from the feature that there was + probably more shillings to the square inch of me than there were shillings + to the square inch of them. Nor yet was it any manner of palpable + warm-heartedness or other natural virtue. But it was a perfect artificial + virtue; it was drill, plain, simple drill. And now was I glad of their + drilling, and vividly approved of it, because I saw that it was good for + me. Whether it was good or bad for the porter and the cabman I could not + know; but that point, mark you, came within the pale of my respectable + rumination. + </p> + <p> + I am sure that it would have been more correct for me to have alighted + upon St. Paul's and described no emotion until I was overcome by the + Thames Embankment and the Houses of Parliament. But as a matter of fact I + did not see them for some days, and at this time they did not concern me + at all. I was born in London at a railroad station, and my new vision + encompassed a porter and a cabman. They deeply absorbed me in new + phenomena, and I did not then care to see the Thames Embankment nor the + Houses of Parliament. I considered the porter and the cabman to be more + important. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The cab finally rolled out of the gas-lit vault into a vast expanse of + gloom. This changed to the shadowy lines of a street that was like a + passage in a monstrous cave. The lamps winking here and there resembled + the little gleams at the caps of the miners. They were not very competent + illuminations at best, merely being little pale flares of gas that at + their most heroic periods could only display one fact concerning this + tunnel—the fact of general direction. But at any rate I should have + liked to have observed the dejection of a search-light if it had been + called upon to attempt to bore through this atmosphere. In it each man sat + in his own little cylinder of vision, so to speak. It was not so small as + a sentry-box nor so large as a circus tent, but the walls were opaque, and + what was passing beyond the dimensions of his cylinder no man knew. + </p> + <p> + It was evident that the paving was very greasy, but all the cabs that + passed through my cylinder were going at a round trot, while the wheels, + shod in rubber, whirred merely like bicycles. The hoofs of the animals + themselves did not make that wild clatter which I knew so well. New York + in fact, roars always like ten thousand devils. We have ingenuous and + simple ways of making a din in New York that cause the stranger to + conclude that each citizen is obliged by statute to provide himself with a + pair of cymbals and a drum. If anything by chance can be turned into a + noise it is promptly turned. We are engaged in the development of a human + creature with very large, sturdy, and doubly, fortified ears. + </p> + <p> + It was not too late at night, but this London moved with the decorum and + caution of an undertaker. There was a silence, and yet there was no + silence. There was a low drone, perhaps a humming contributed inevitably + by closely-gathered thousands, and yet on second thoughts it was to me + silence. I had perched my ears for the note of London, the sound made + simply by the existence of five million people in one place. I had + imagined something deep, vastly deep, a bass from a mythical organ, but + found as far as I was concerned, only a silence. + </p> + <p> + New York in numbers is a mighty city, and all day and all night it cries + its loud, fierce, aspiring cry, a noise of men beating upon barrels, a + noise of men beating upon tin, a terrific racket that assails the abject + skies. No one of us seemed to question this row as a certain consequence + of three or four million people living together and scuffling for coin, + with more agility, perhaps, but otherwise in the usual way. However, after + this easy silence of London, which in numbers is a mightier city, I began + to feel that there was a seduction in this idea of necessity. Our noise in + New York was not a consequence of our rapidity at all. It was a + consequence of our bad pavements. + </p> + <p> + Any brigade of artillery in Europe that would love to assemble its + batteries, and then go on a gallop over the land, thundering and + thundering, would give up the idea of thunder at once if it could hear Tim + Mulligan drive a beer wagon along one of the side streets of cobbled New + York. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Finally a great thing came to pass. The cab horse, proceeding at a sharp + trot, found himself suddenly at the top of an incline, where through the + rain the pavement shone like an expanse of ice. It looked to me as if + there was going to be a tumble. In an accident of such a kind a hansom + becomes really a cannon in which a man finds that he has paid shillings + for the privilege of serving as a projectile. I was making a rapid + calculation of the arc that I would describe in my flight, when the horse + met his crisis with a masterly device that I could not have imagined. He + tranquilly braced his four feet like a bundle of stakes, and then, with a + gentle gaiety of demeanor, he slid swiftly and gracefully to the bottom of + the hill as if he had been a toboggan. When the incline ended he caught + his gait again with great dexterity, and went pattering off through + another tunnel. + </p> + <p> + I at once looked upon myself as being singularly blessed by this sight. + This horse had evidently originated this system of skating as a diversion, + or, more probably, as a precaution against the slippery pavement; and he + was, of course the inventor and sole proprietor—two terms that are + not always in conjunction. It surely was not to be supposed that there + could be two skaters like him in the world. He deserved to be known and + publicly praised for this accomplishment. It was worthy of many records + and exhibitions. But when the cab arrived at a place where some dipping + streets met, and the flaming front of a music-hall temporarily widened my + cylinder, behold there were many cabs, and as the moment of necessity came + the horses were all skaters. They were gliding in all directions. It might + have been a rink. A great omnibus was hailed by a hand under an umbrella + on the side walk, and the dignified horses bidden to halt from their trot + did not waste time in wild and unseemly spasms. They, too, braced their + legs and slid gravely to the end of their momentum. + </p> + <p> + It was not the feat, but it was the word which had at this time the power + to conjure memories of skating parties on moonlit lakes, with laughter + ringing over the ice, and a great red bonfire on the shore among the + hemlocks. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + A Terrible thing in nature is the fall of a horse in his harness. It is a + tragedy. Despite their skill in skating there was that about the pavement + on the rainy evening which filled me with expectations of horses going + headlong. Finally it happened just in front. There was a shout and a + tangle in the darkness, and presently a prostrate cab horse came within my + cylinder. The accident having been a complete success and altogether + concluded, a voice from the side walk said, "<i>Look</i> out, now! <i>Be</i> + more careful, can't you?" + </p> + <p> + I remember a constituent of a Congressman at Washington who had tried in + vain to bore this Congressman with a wild project of some kind. The + Congressman eluded him with skill, and his rage and despair ultimately + culminated in the supreme grievance that he could not even get near enough + to the Congressman to tell him to go to Hades. + </p> + <p> + This cabman should have felt the same desire to strangle this man who + spoke from the sidewalk. He was plainly impotent; he was deprived of the + power of looking out. There was nothing now for which to look out. The man + on the sidewalk had dragged a corpse from a pond and said to it, + </p> + <p> + "<i>Be</i> more careful, can't you, or you'll drown?" My cabman pulled up + and addressed a few words of reproach to the other. Three or four figures + loomed into my cylinder, and as they appeared spoke to the author or the + victim of the calamity in varied terms of displeasure. Each of these + reproaches was couched in terms that defined the situation as impending. + No blind man could have conceived that the precipitate phrase of the + incident was absolutely closed. + </p> + <p> + "<i>Look</i> out now, cawn't you?" And there was nothing in his mind which + approached these sentiments near enough to tell them to go to Hades. + </p> + <p> + However, it needed only an ear to know presently that these expressions + were formulae. It was merely the obligatory dance which the Indians had to + perform before they went to war. These men had come to help, but as a + regular and traditional preliminary they had first to display to this + cabman their idea of his ignominy. + </p> + <p> + The different thing in the affair was the silence of the victim. He + retorted never a word. This, too, to me seemed to be an obedience to a + recognized form. He was the visible criminal, if there was a criminal, and + there was born of it a privilege for them. + </p> + <p> + They unfastened the proper straps and hauled back the cab. They fetched a + mat from some obscure place of succor, and pushed it carefully under the + prostrate thing. From this panting, quivering mass they suddenly and + emphatically reconstructed a horse. As each man turned to go his way he + delivered some superior caution to the cabman while the latter buckled his + harness. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + There was to be noticed in this band of rescuers a young man in evening + clothes and top-hat. Now, in America a young man in evening clothes and a + top-hat may be a terrible object. He is not likely to do violence, but he + is likely to do impassivity and indifference to the point where they + become worse than violence. There are certain of the more idle phases of + civilization to which America has not yet awakened—and it is a + matter of no moment if she remains unaware. This matter of hats is one of + them. I recall a legend recited to me by an esteemed friend, ex-Sheriff of + Tin Can, Nevada. Jim Cortright, one of the best gun-fighters in town, went + on a journey to Chicago, and while there he procured a top-hat. He was + quite sure how Tin Can would accept this innovation, but he relied on the + celerity with which he could get a six-shooter in action. One Sunday Jim + examined his guns with his usual care, placed the top-hat on the back of + his head, and sauntered coolly out into the streets of Tin Can. + </p> + <p> + Now, while Jim was in Chicago some progressive citizen had decided that + Tin Can needed a bowling alley. The carpenters went to work the next + morning, and an order for the balls and pins was telegraphed to Denver. In + three days the whole population was concentrated at the new alley betting + their outfits and their lives. + </p> + <p> + It has since been accounted very unfortunate that Jim Cortright had not + learned of bowling alleys at his mother's knee or even later in the mines. + This portion of his mind was singularly belated. He might have been an + Apache for all he knew of bowling alleys. + </p> + <p> + In his careless stroll through the town, his hands not far from his belt + and his eyes going sideways in order to see who would shoot first at the + hat, he came upon this long, low shanty where Tin Can was betting itself + hoarse over a game between a team from the ranks of Excelsior Hose Company + No. 1 and a team composed from the <i>habitues</i> of the "Red Light" + saloon. + </p> + <p> + Jim, in blank ignorance of bowling phenomena, wandered casually through a + little door into what must always be termed the wrong end of a bowling + alley. Of course, he saw that the supreme moment had come. They were not + only shooting at the hat and at him, but the low-down cusses were using + the most extraordinary and hellish ammunition. Still, perfectly undaunted, + however, Jim retorted with his two Colts, and killed three of the best + bowlers in Tin Can. + </p> + <p> + The ex-Sheriff vouched for this story. He himself had gone headlong + through the door at the firing of the first shot with that simple courtesy + which leads Western men to donate the fighters plenty of room. He said + that afterwards the hat was the cause of a number of other fights, and + that finally a delegation of prominent citizens was obliged to wait upon + Cortright and ask him if he wouldn't take that thing away somewhere and + bury it. Jim pointed out to them that it was his hat, and that he would + regard it as a cowardly concession if he submitted to their dictation in + the matter of his headgear. He added that he purposed to continue to wear + his top-hat on every occasion when he happened to feel that the wearing of + a top-hat was a joy and a solace to him. + </p> + <p> + The delegation sadly retired, and announced to the town that Jim Cortright + had openly defied them, and had declared his purpose of forcing his + top-hat on the pained attention of Tin Can whenever he chose. Jim + Cortright's plug hat became a phrase with considerable meaning to it. + </p> + <p> + However, the whole affair ended in a great passionate outburst of popular + revolution. Spike Foster was a friend of Cortright, and one day, when the + latter was indisposed, Spike came to him and borrowed the hat. He had been + drinking heavily at the "Red Light," and was in a supremely reckless mood. + With the terrible gear hanging jauntily over his eye and his two guns + drawn, he walked straight out into the middle of the square in front of + the Palace Hotel, and drew the attention of all Tin Can by a + blood-curdling imitation of the yowl of a mountain lion. + </p> + <p> + This was when the long suffering populace arose as one man. The top-hat + had been flaunted once too often. When Spike Foster's friends came to + carry him away they found nearly a hundred and fifty men shooting busily + at a mark—and the mark was the hat. + </p> + <p> + My informant told me that he believed he owed his popularity in Tin Can, + and subsequently his election to the distinguished office of Sheriff, to + the active and prominent part he had taken in the proceedings. + </p> + <p> + The enmity to the top-hat expressed by the convincing anecdote exists in + the American West at present, I think, in the perfection of its strength; + but disapproval is not now displayed by volleys from the citizens, save in + the most aggravating cases. It is at present usually a matter of mere jibe + and general contempt. The East, however, despite a great deal of kicking + and gouging, is having the top-hat stuffed slowly and carefully down its + throat, and there now exist many young men who consider that they could + not successfully conduct their lives without this furniture. + </p> + <p> + To speak generally, I should say that the headgear then supplies them with + a kind of ferocity of indifference. There is fire, sword, and pestilence + in the way they heed only themselves. Philosophy should always know that + indifference is a militant thing. It batters down the walls of cities, and + murders the women and children amid flames and the purloining of altar + vessels. When it goes away it leaves smoking ruins, where lie citizens + bayoneted through the throat. It is not a children's pastime like mere + highway robbery. + </p> + <p> + Consequently in America we may be much afraid of these young men. We dive + down alleys so that we may not kowtow. It is a fearsome thing. + </p> + <p> + Taught thus a deep fear of the top-hat in its effect upon youth, I was not + prepared for the move of this particular young man when the cab-horse + fell. In fact, I grovelled in my corner that I might not see the cruel + stateliness of his passing. But in the meantime he had crossed the street, + and contributed the strength of his back and some advice, as well as the + formal address, to the cabman on the importance of looking out + immediately. + </p> + <p> + I felt that I was making a notable collection. I had a new kind of porter, + a cylinder of vision, horses that could skate, and now I added a young man + in a top-hat who would tacitly admit that the beings around him were + alive. He was not walking a churchyard filled with inferior headstones. He + was walking the world, where there were people, many people. + </p> + <p> + But later I took him out of the collection. I thought he had rebelled + against the manner of a class, but I soon discovered that the top-hat was + not the property of a class. It was the property of rogues, clerks, + theatrical agents, damned seducers, poor men, nobles, and others. In fact, + it was the universal rigging. It was the only hat; all other forms might + as well be named ham, or chops, or oysters. I retracted my admiration of + the young man because he may have been merely a rogue. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + There was a window whereat an enterprising man by dodging two placards and + a calendar was entitled to view a young woman. She was dejectedly writing + in a large book. She was ultimately induced to open the window a trifle. + "What nyme, please?" she said wearily. I was surprised to hear this + language from her. I had expected to be addressed on a submarine topic. I + have seen shell fishes sadly writing in large books at the bottom of a + gloomy acquarium who could not ask me what was my "nyme." + </p> + <p> + At the end of the hall there was a grim portal marked "lift." I pressed an + electric button and heard an answering tinkle in the heavens. There was an + upholstered settle near at hand, and I discovered the reason. A + deer-stalking peace drooped upon everything, and in it a man could invoke + the passing of a lazy pageant of twenty years of his life. The dignity of + a coffin being lowered into a grave surrounded the ultimate appearance of + the lift. The expert we in America call the elevator-boy stepped from the + car, took three paces forward, faced to attention and saluted. This + elevator boy could not have been less than sixty years of age; a great + white beard streamed towards his belt. I saw that the lift had been longer + on its voyage than I had suspected. + </p> + <p> + Later in our upward progress a natural event would have been an + establishment of social relations. Two enemies imprisoned together during + the still hours of a balloon journey would, I believe, suffer a mental + amalgamation. The overhang of a common fate, a great principal fact, can + make an equality and a truce between any pair. Yet, when I disembarked, a + final survey of the grey beard made me recall that I had failed even to + ask the boy whether he had not taken probably three trips on this lift. + </p> + <p> + My windows overlooked simply a great sea of night, in which were swimming + little gas fishes. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + I have of late been led to reflect wistfully that many of the illustrators + are very clever. In an impatience, which was donated by a certain economy + of apparel, I went to a window to look upon day-lit London. There were the + 'buses parading the streets with the miens of elephants There were the + police looking precisely as I had been informed by the prints. There were + the sandwich-men. There was almost everything. + </p> + <p> + But the artists had not told me the sound of London. Now, in New York the + artists are able to portray sound because in New York a dray is not a dray + at all; it is a great potent noise hauled by two or more horses. When a + magazine containing an illustration of a New York street is sent to me, I + always know it beforehand. I can hear it coming through the mails. As I + have said previously, this which I must call sound of London was to me + only a silence. + </p> + <p> + Later, in front of the hotel a cabman that I hailed said to me—"Are + you gowing far, sir? I've got a byby here, and want to giv'er a bit of a + blough." This impressed me as being probably a quotation from an early + Egyptian poet, but I learned soon enough that the word "byby" was the name + of some kind or condition of horse. The cabman's next remark was addressed + to a boy who took a perilous dive between the byby's nose and a cab in + front. "That's roight. Put your head in there and get it jammed—a + whackin good place for it, I should think." Although the tone was low and + circumspect, I have never heard a better off-handed declamation. Every + word was cut clear of disreputable alliances with its neighbors. The whole + thing was clean as a row of pewter mugs. The influence of indignation upon + the voice caused me to reflect that we might devise a mechanical means of + inflaming some in that constellation of mummers which is the heritage of + the Anglo-Saxon race. + </p> + <p> + Then I saw the drilling of vehicles by two policemen. There were four + torrents converging at a point, and when four torrents converge at one + point engineering experts buy tickets for another place. + </p> + <p> + But here, again, it was drill, plain, simple drill. I must not falter in + saying that I think the management of the traffic—as the phrase goes—to + be distinctly illuminating and wonderful. The police were not ruffled and + exasperated. They were as peaceful as two cows in a pasture. + </p> + <p> + I can remember once remarking that mankind, with all its boasted modern + progress, had not yet been able to invent a turnstile that will commute in + fractions. I have now learned that 756 rights-of-way cannot operate + simultaneously at one point. Right-of-way, like fighting women, requires + space. Even two rights-of-way can make a scene which is only suited to the + tastes of an ancient public. + </p> + <p> + This truth was very evidently recognized. There was only one right-of-way + at a time. The police did not look behind them to see if their orders were + to be obeyed; they knew they were to be obeyed. These four torrents were + drilling like four battalions. The two blue-cloth men maneuvered them in + solemn, abiding peace, the silence of London. + </p> + <p> + I thought at first that it was the intellect of the individual, but I + looked at one constable closely and his face was as afire with + intelligence as a flannel pin-cushion. It was not the police, and it was + not the crowd. It was the police and the crowd. Again, it was drill. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + I have never been in the habit of reading signs. I don't like to read + signs. I have never met a man that liked to read signs. I once invented a + creature who could play the piano with a hammer, and I mentioned him to a + professor in Harvard University whose peculiarity was Sanscrit. He had the + same interest in my invention that I have in a certain kind of mustard. + And yet this mustard has become a part of me. Or, I have become a part of + this mustard. Further, I know more of an ink, a brand of hams, a kind of + cigarette, and a novelist than any man living. I went by train to see a + friend in the country, and after passing through a patent mucilage, some + more hams, a South African Investment Company, a Parisian millinery firm, + and a comic journal, I alighted at a new and original kind of corset. On + my return journey the road almost continuously ran through soap. + </p> + <p> + I have accumulated superior information concerning these things, because I + am at their mercy. If I want to know where I am I must find the definitive + sign. This accounts for my glib use of the word mucilage, as well as the + titles of other staples. + </p> + <p> + I suppose even the Briton in mixing his life must sometimes consult the + labels on 'buses and streets and stations, even as the chemist consults + the labels on his bottles and boxes. A brave man would possibly affirm + that this was suggested by the existence of the labels. + </p> + <p> + The reason that I did not learn more about hams and mucilage in New York + seems to me to be partly due to the fact that the British advertiser is + allowed to exercise an unbridled strategy in his attack with his new + corset or whatever upon the defensive public. He knows that the vulnerable + point is the informatory sign which the citizen must, of course, use for + his guidance, and then, with horse, foot, guns, corsets, hams, mucilage, + investment companies, and all, he hurls himself at the point. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile I have discovered a way to make the Sanscrit scholar heed my + creature who plays the piano with a hammer. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE SCOTCH EXPRESS + </h2> + <p> + The entrance to Euston Station is of itself sufficiently imposing. It is a + high portico of brown stone, old and grim, in form a casual imitation, no + doubt, of the front of the temple of Nike Apteros, with a recollection of + the Egyptians proclaimed at the flanks. The frieze, where of old would + prance an exuberant processional of gods, is, in this case, bare of + decoration, but upon the epistyle is written in simple, stern letters the + word "EUSTON." The legend reared high by the gloomy Pelagic columns stares + down a wide avenue, In short, this entrance to a railway station does not + in any way resemble the entrance to a railway station. It is more the + front of some venerable bank. But it has another dignity, which is not + born of form. To a great degree, it is to the English and to those who are + in England the gate to Scotland. + </p> + <p> + The little hansoms are continually speeding through the gate, dashing + between the legs of the solemn temple; the four-wheelers, their tops + crowded with luggage, roll in and out constantly, and the footways beat + under the trampling of the people. Of course, there are the suburbs and a + hundred towns along the line, and Liverpool, the beginning of an important + sea-path to America, and the great manufacturing cities of the North; but + if one stands at this gate in August particularly, one must note the + number of men with gun-cases, the number of women who surely have + Tam-o'-Shanters and plaids concealed within their luggage, ready for the + moors. There is, during the latter part of that month, a wholesale flight + from London to Scotland which recalls the July throngs leaving New York + for the shore or the mountains. + </p> + <p> + The hansoms, after passing through this impressive portal of the station, + bowl smoothly across a courtyard which is in the center of the terminal + hotel, an institution dear to most railways in Europe. The traveler lands + amid a swarm of porters, and then proceeds cheerfully to take the + customary trouble for his luggage. America provides a contrivance in a + thousand situations where Europe provides a man or perhaps a number of + men, and the work of our brass check is here done by porters, directed by + the traveler himself. The men lack the memory of the check; the check + never forgets its identity. Moreover, the European railways generously + furnish the porters at the expense of the traveler. Nevertheless, if these + men have not the invincible business precision of the check, and if they + have to be tipped, it can be asserted for those who care that in Europe + one-half of the populace waits on the other half most diligently and well. + </p> + <p> + Against the masonry of a platform, under the vaulted arch of the + train-house, lay a long string of coaches. They were painted white on the + bulging part, which led halfway down from the top, and the bodies were a + deep bottle-green. There was a group of porters placing luggage in the + van, and a great many others were busy with the affairs of passengers, + tossing smaller bits of luggage into the racks over the seats, and + bustling here and there on short quests. The guard of the train, a tall + man who resembled one of the first Napoleon's veterans, was caring for the + distribution of passengers into the various bins. There were no + second-class compartments; they were all third and first-class. + </p> + <p> + The train was at this time engineless, but presently a railway "flier," + painted a glowing vermilion, slid modestly down and took its place at the + head. The guard walked along the platform, and decisively closed each + door. He wore a dark blue uniform thoroughly decorated with silver braid + in the guise of leaves. The way of him gave to this business the + importance of a ceremony. Meanwhile the fireman had climbed down from the + cab and raised his hand, ready to transfer a signal to the driver, who + stood looking at his watch. In the interval there had something progressed + in the large signal box that stands guard at Euston. This high house + contains many levers, standing in thick, shining ranks. It perfectly + resembles an organ in some great church, if it were not that these rows of + numbered and indexed handles typify something more acutely human than does + a keyboard. It requires four men to play this organ-like thing, and the + strains never cease. Night and day, day and night, these four men are + walking to and fro, from this lever to that lever, and under their hands + the great machine raises its endless hymn of a world at work, the fall and + rise of signals and the clicking swing of switches. + </p> + <p> + And so as the vermilion engine stood waiting and looking from the shadow + of the curve-roofed station, a man in the signal house had played the + notes that informed the engine of its freedom. The driver saw the fall of + those proper semaphores which gave him liberty to speak to his steel + friend. A certain combination in the economy of the London and + Northwestern Railway, a combination which had spread from the men who + sweep out the carriages through innumerable minds to the general manager + himself, had resulted in the law that the vermilion engine, with its long + string of white and bottle-green coaches, was to start forthwith toward + Scotland. + </p> + <p> + Presently the fireman, standing with his face toward the rear, let fall + his hand. "All right," he said. The driver turned a wheel, and as the + fireman slipped back, the train moved along the platform at the pace of a + mouse. To those in the tranquil carriages this starting was probably as + easy as the sliding of one's hand over a greased surface, but in the + engine there was more to it. The monster roared suddenly and loudly, and + sprang forward impetuously. A wrong-headed or maddened draft-horse will + plunge in its collar sometimes when going up a hill. But this load of + burdened carriages followed imperturbably at the gait of turtles. They + were not to be stirred from their way of dignified exit by the impatient + engine. The crowd of porters and transient people stood respectful. They + looked with the indefinite wonder of the railway-station sight-seer upon + the faces at the windows of the passing coaches. This train was off for + Scotland. It had started from the home of one accent to the home of + another accent. It was going from manner to manner, from habit to habit, + and in the minds of these London spectators there surely floated dim + images of the traditional kilts, the burring speech, the grouse, the + canniness, the oat-meal, all the elements of a romantic Scotland. + </p> + <p> + The train swung impressively around the signal-house, and headed up a + brick-walled cut. In starting this heavy string of coaches, the engine + breathed explosively. It gasped, and heaved, and bellowed; once, for a + moment, the wheels spun on the rails, and a convulsive tremor shook the + great steel frame. + </p> + <p> + The train itself, however, moved through this deep cut in the body of + London with coolness and precision, and the employees of the railway, + knowing the train's mission, tacitly presented arms at its passing. To the + travelers in the carriages, the suburbs of London must have been one long + monotony of carefully made walls of stone or brick. But after the hill was + climbed, the train fled through pictures of red habitations of men on a + green earth. + </p> + <p> + But the noise in the cab did not greatly change its measure. Even though + the speed was now high, the tremendous thumping to be heard in the cab was + as alive with strained effort and as slow in beat as the breathing of a + half-drowned man. At the side of the track, for instance, the sound + doubtless would strike the ear in the familiar succession of incredibly + rapid puffs; but in the cab itself, this land-racer breathes very like its + friend, the marine engine. Everybody who has spent time on shipboard has + forever in his head a reminiscence of the steady and methodical pounding + of the engines, and perhaps it is curious that this relative which can + whirl over the land at such a pace, breathes in the leisurely tones that a + man heeds when he lies awake at night in his berth. + </p> + <p> + There had been no fog in London, but here on the edge of the city a heavy + wind was blowing, and the driver leaned aside and yelled that it was a + very bad day for traveling on an engine. The engine-cabs of England, as of + all Europe, are seldom made for the comfort of the men. One finds very + often this apparent disregard for the man who does the work—this + indifference to the man who occupies a position which for the exercise of + temperance, of courage, of honesty, has no equal at the altitude of prime + ministers. The American engineer is the gilded occupant of a salon in + comparison with his brother in Europe. The man who was guiding this + five-hundred-ton bolt, aimed by the officials of the railway at Scotland, + could not have been as comfortable as a shrill gibbering boatman of the + Orient. The narrow and bare bench at his side of the cab was not directly + intended for his use, because it was so low that he would be prevented by + it from looking out of the ship's port-hole which served him as a window. + The fireman, on his side, had other difficulties. His legs would have had + to straggle over some pipes at the only spot where there was a prospect, + and the builders had also strategically placed a large steel bolt. Of + course it is plain that the companies consistently believe that the men + will do their work better if they are kept standing. The roof of the cab + was not altogether a roof. It was merely a projection of two feet of metal + from the bulkhead which formed the front of the cab. There were + practically no sides to it, and the large cinders from the soft coal + whirled around in sheets. From time to time the driver took a handkerchief + from his pocket and wiped his blinking eyes. + </p> + <p> + London was now well to the rear. The vermilion engine had been for some + time flying like the wind. This train averages, between London and + Carlisle forty-nine and nine-tenth miles an hour. It is a distance of 299 + miles. There is one stop. It occurs at Crewe, and endures five minutes. In + consequence, the block signals flashed by seemingly at the end of the + moment in which they were sighted. + </p> + <p> + There can be no question of the statement that the road-beds of English + railways are at present immeasurably superior to the American road-beds. + Of course there is a clear reason. It is known to every traveler that + peoples of the Continent of Europe have no right at all to own railways. + Those lines of travel are too childish and trivial for expression. A + correct fate would deprive the Continent of its railways, and give them to + somebody who knew about them. + </p> + <p> + The continental idea of a railway is to surround a mass of machinery with + forty rings of ultra-military law, and then they believe they have one + complete. The Americans and the English are the railway peoples. That our + road-beds are poorer than the English road-beds is because of the fact + that we were suddenly obliged to build thousands upon thousands of miles + of railway, and the English were obliged to build slowly tens upon tens of + miles. A road-bed from New York to San Francisco, with stations, bridges, + and crossings of the kind that the London and Northwestern owns from + London to Glasgow, would cost a sum large enough to support the German + army for a term of years. The whole way is constructed with the care that + inspired the creators of some of our now obsolete forts along the Atlantic + coast. + </p> + <p> + An American engineer, with his knowledge of the difficulties he had to + encounter—the wide rivers with variable banks, the mountain chains, + perhaps the long spaces of absolute desert; in fact, all the perplexities + of a vast and somewhat new country—would not dare spend a + respectable portion of his allowance on seventy feet of granite wall over + a gully, when he knew he could make an embankment with little cost by + heaving up the dirt and stones from here and there. But the English road + is all made in the pattern by which the Romans built their highways. After + England is dead, savants will find narrow streaks of masonry leading from + ruin to ruin. Of course this does not always seem convincingly admirable. + It sometimes resembles energy poured into a rat-hole. There is a vale + between expediency and the convenience of posterity, a mid-ground which + enables men surely to benefit the hereafter people by valiantly advancing + the present; and the point is that, if some laborers live in unhealthy + tenements in Cornwall, one is likely to view with incomplete satisfaction + the record of long and patient labor and thought displayed by an + eight-foot drain for a nonexistent, impossible rivulet in the North. This + sentence does not sound strictly fair, but the meaning one wishes to + convey is that if an English company spies in its dream the ghost of an + ancient valley that later becomes a hill, it would construct for it a + magnificent steel trestle, and consider that a duty had been performed in + proper accordance with the company's conscience. But after all is said of + it, the accidents and the miles of railway operated in England are not in + proportion to the accidents and the miles of railway operated in the + United States. The reason can be divided into three parts—older + conditions, superior caution, the road-bed. And of these, the greatest is + older conditions. + </p> + <p> + In this flight toward Scotland one seldom encountered a grade crossing. In + nine cases of ten there was either a bridge or a tunnel. The platforms of + even the remote country stations were all of ponderous masonry in contrast + to our constructions of planking. There was always to be seen, as we + thundered toward a station of this kind, a number of porters in uniform, + who requested the retreat of any one who had not the wit to give us plenty + of room. And then, as the shrill warning of the whistle pierced even the + uproar that was about us, came the wild joy of the rush past a station. It + was something in the nature of a triumphal procession conducted at + thrilling speed. Perhaps there was a curve of infinite grace, a sudden + hollow explosive effect made by the passing of a signal-box that was close + to the track, and then the deadly lunge to shave the edge of a long + platform. There were always a number of people standing afar, with their + eyes riveted upon this projectile, and to be on the engine was to feel + their interest and admiration in the terror and grandeur of this sweep. A + boy allowed to ride with the driver of the band-wagon as a circus parade + winds through one of our village streets could not exceed for egotism the + temper of a new man in the cab of a train like this one. This valkyric + journey on the back of the vermilion engine, with the shouting of the + wind, the deep, mighty panting of the steed, the gray blur at the + track-side, the flowing quicksilver ribbon of the other rails, the sudden + clash as a switch intersects, all the din and fury of this ride, was of a + splendor that caused one to look abroad at the quiet, green landscape and + believe that it was of a phlegm quiet beyond patience. It should have been + dark, rain-shot, and windy; thunder should have rolled across its sky. + </p> + <p> + It seemed, somehow, that if the driver should for a moment take his hands + from his engine, it might swerve from the track as a horse from the road. + Once, indeed, as he stood wiping his fingers on a bit of waste, there must + have been something ludicrous in the way the solitary passenger regarded + him. Without those finely firm hands on the bridle, the engine might rear + and bolt for the pleasant farms lying in the sunshine at either side. + </p> + <p> + This driver was worth contemplation. He was simply a quiet, middle-aged + man, bearded, and with the little wrinkles of habitual geniality and + kindliness spreading from the eyes toward the temple, who stood at his + post always gazing out, through his round window, while, from time to + time, his hands went from here to there over his levers. He seldom changed + either attitude or expression. There surely is no engine-driver who does + not feel the beauty of the business, but the emotion lies deep, and mainly + inarticulate, as it does in the mind of a man who has experienced a good + and beautiful wife for many years. This driver's face displayed nothing + but the cool sanity of a man whose thought was buried intelligently in his + business. If there was any fierce drama in it, there was no sign upon him. + He was so lost in dreams of speed and signals and steam, that one + speculated if the wonder of his tempestuous charge and its career over + England touched him, this impassive rider of a fiery thing. + </p> + <p> + It should be a well-known fact that, all over the world, the engine-driver + is the finest type of man that is grown. He is the pick of the earth. He + is altogether more worthy than the soldier, and better than the men who + move on the sea in ships. He is not paid too much; nor do his glories + weight his brow; but for outright performance, carried on constantly, + coolly, and without elation, by a temperate, honest, clear-minded man, he + is the further point. And so the lone human at his station in a cab, + guarding money, lives, and the honor of the road, is a beautiful sight. + The whole thing is aesthetic. The fireman presents the same charm, but in + a less degree, in that he is bound to appear as an apprentice to the + finished manhood of the driver. In his eyes, turned always in question and + confidence toward his superior, one finds this quality; but his + aspirations are so direct that one sees the same type in evolution. + </p> + <p> + There may be a popular idea that the fireman's principal function is to + hang his head out of the cab and sight interesting objects in the + landscape. As a matter of fact, he is always at work. The dragon is + insatiate. The fireman is continually swinging open the furnace-door, + whereat a red shine flows out upon the floor of the cab, and shoveling in + immense mouthfuls of coal to a fire that is almost diabolic in its + madness. The feeding, feeding, feeding goes on until it appears as if it + is the muscles of the fireman's arms that are speeding the long train. An + engine running over sixty-five miles an hour, with 500 tons to drag, has + an appetite in proportion to this task. + </p> + <p> + View of the clear-shining English scenery is often interrupted between + London and Crew by long and short tunnels. The first one was + disconcerting. Suddenly one knew that the train was shooting toward a + black mouth in the hills. It swiftly yawned wider, and then in a moment + the engine dived into a place inhabitated by every demon of wind and + noise. The speed had not been checked, and the uproar was so great that in + effect one was simply standing at the center of a vast, black-walled + sphere. The tubular construction which one's reason proclaimed had no + meaning at all. It was a black sphere, alive with shrieks. But then on the + surface of it there was to be seen a little needle-point of light, and + this widened to a detail of unreal landscape. It was the world; the train + was going to escape from this cauldron, this abyss of howling darkness. If + a man looks through the brilliant water of a tropical pool, he can + sometimes see coloring the marvels at the bottom the blue that was on the + sky and the green that was on the foliage of this detail. And the picture + shimmered in the heat-rays of a new and remarkable sun. It was when the + train bolted out into the open air that one knew that it was his own + earth. + </p> + <p> + Once train met train in a tunnel. Upon the painting in the perfectly + circular frame formed by the mouth there appeared a black square with + sparks bursting from it. This square expanded until it hid everything, and + a moment later came the crash of the passing. It was enough to make a man + lose his sense of balance. It was a momentary inferno when the fireman + opened the furnace door and was bathed in blood-red light as he fed the + fires. + </p> + <p> + The effect of a tunnel varied when there was a curve in it. One was merely + whirling then heels over head, apparently in the dark, echoing bowels of + the earth. There was no needle-point of light to which one's eyes clung as + to a star. + </p> + <p> + From London to Crew, the stern arm of the semaphore never made the train + pause even for an instant. There was always a clear track. It was great to + see, far in the distance, a goods train whooping smokily for the north of + England on one of the four tracks. The overtaking of such a train was a + thing of magnificent nothing for the long-strided engine, and as the + flying express passed its weaker brother, one heard one or two feeble and + immature puffs from the other engine, saw the fireman wave his hand to his + luckier fellow, saw a string of foolish, clanking flat-cars, their + freights covered with tarpaulins, and then the train was lost to the rear. + </p> + <p> + The driver twisted his wheel and worked some levers, and the rhythmical + chunking of the engine gradually ceased. Gliding at a speed that was still + high, the train curved to the left, and swung down a sharp incline, to + move with an imperial dignity through the railway yard at Rugby. There was + a maze of switches, innumerable engines noisily pushing cars here and + there, crowds of workmen who turned to look, a sinuous curve around the + long train-shed, whose high wall resounded with the rumble of the passing + express; and then, almost immediately, it seemed, came the open country + again. Rugby had been a dream which one could properly doubt. At last the + relaxed engine, with the same majesty of ease, swung into the high-roofed + station at Crewe, and stopped on a platform lined with porters and + citizens. There was instant bustle, and in the interest of the moment no + one seemed particularly to notice the tired vermilion engine being led + away. + </p> + <p> + There is a five-minute stop at Crewe. A tandem of engines slip up, and + buckled fast to the train for the journey to Carlisle. In the meantime, + all the regulation items of peace and comfort had happened on the train + itself. The dining-car was in the center of the train. It was divided into + two parts, the one being a dining-room for first-class passengers, and the + other a dining-room for the third-class passengers. They were separated by + the kitchens and the larder. The engine, with all its rioting and roaring, + had dragged to Crewe a car in which numbers of passengers were lunching in + a tranquility that was almost domestic, on an average menu of a chop and + potatoes, a salad, cheese, and a bottle of beer. Betimes they watched + through the windows the great chimney-marked towns of northern England. + They were waited upon by a young man of London, who was supported by a lad + who resembled an American bell-boy. The rather elaborate menu and service + of the Pullman dining-car is not known in England or on the Continent. + Warmed roast beef is the exact symbol of a European dinner, when one is + traveling on a railway. + </p> + <p> + This express is named, both by the public and the company, the "Corridor + Train," because a coach with a corridor is an unusual thing in England, + and so the title has a distinctive meaning. Of course, in America, where + there is no car which has not what we call an aisle, it would define + nothing. The corridors are all at one side of the car. Doors open thence + to little compartments made to seat four, or perhaps six, persons. The + first-class carriages are very comfortable indeed, being heavily + upholstered in dark, hard-wearing stuffs, with a bulging rest for the + head. The third-class accommodations on this train are almost as + comfortable as the first-class, and attract a kind of people that are not + usually seen traveling third-class in Europe. Many people sacrifice their + habit, in the matter of this train, to the fine conditions of the lower + fare. + </p> + <p> + One of the feats of the train is an electric button in each compartment. + Commonly an electric button is placed high on the side of the carriage as + an alarm signal, and it is unlawful to push it unless one is in serious + need of assistance from the guard. But these bells also rang in the + dining-car, and were supposed to open negotiations for tea or whatever. A + new function has been projected on an ancient custom. No genius has yet + appeared to separate these two meanings. Each bell rings an alarm and a + bid for tea or whatever. It is perfect in theory then that, if one rings + for tea, the guard comes to interrupt the murder, and that if one is being + murdered, the attendant appears with tea. At any rate, the guard was + forever being called from his reports and his comfortable seat in the + forward end of the luggage-van by thrilling alarms. He often prowled the + length of the train with hardihood and determination, merely to meet a + request for a sandwich. + </p> + <p> + The train entered Carlisle at the beginning of twilight. This is the + border town, and an engine of the Caledonian Railway, manned by two men of + broad speech, came to take the place of the tandem. The engine of these + men of the North was much smaller than the others, but her cab was much + larger, and would be a fair shelter on a stormy night. They had also built + seats with hooks by which they hang them to the rail, and thus are still + enabled to see through the round windows without dislocating their necks. + All the human parts of the cab were covered with oilcloth. The wind that + swirled from the dim twilight horizon made the warm glow from the furnace + to be a grateful thing. + </p> + <p> + As the train shot out of Carlisle, a glance backward could learn of the + faint, yellow blocks of light from the carriages marked on the dimmed + ground. The signals were now lamps, and shone palely against the sky. The + express was entering night as if night were Scotland. + </p> + <p> + There was a long toil to the summit of the hills, and then began the + booming ride down the slope. There were many curves. Sometimes could be + seen two or three signal lights at one time, twisting off in some new + direction. Minus the lights and some yards of glistening rails, Scotland + was only a blend of black and weird shapes. Forests which one could hardly + imagine as weltering in the dewy placidity of evening sank to the rear as + if the gods had bade them. The dark loom of a house quickly dissolved + before the eyes. A station with its lamps became a broad yellow band that, + to a deficient sense, was only a few yards in length. Below, in a deep + valley, a silver glare on the waters of a river made equal time with the + train. Signals appeared, grew, and vanished. In the wind and the mystery + of the night, it was like sailing in an enchanted gloom. The vague + profiles of hills ran like snakes across the somber sky. A strange shape + boldly and formidably confronted the train, and then melted to a long dash + of track as clean as sword-blades. + </p> + <p> + The vicinity of Glasgow is unmistakable. The flames of pauseless + industries are here and there marked on the distance. Vast factories stand + close to the track, and reaching chimneys emit roseate flames. At last one + may see upon a wall the strong reflection from furnaces, and against it + the impish and inky figures of workingmen. A long, prison-like row of + tenements, not at all resembling London, but in one way resembling New + York, appeared to the left, and then sank out of sight like a phantom. + </p> + <p> + At last the driver stopped the brave effort of his engine The 400 miles + were come to the edge. The average speed of forty-nine and one-third miles + each hour had been made, and it remained only to glide with the hauteur of + a great express through the yard and into the station at Glasgow. + </p> + <p> + A wide and splendid collection of signal lamps flowed toward the engine. + With delicacy and care the train clanked over some switches, passes the + signals, and then there shone a great blaze of arc-lamps, defining the + wide sweep of the station roof. Smoothly, proudly, with all that vast + dignity which had surrounded its exit from London, the express moved along + its platform. It was the entrance into a gorgeous drawing-room of a man + that was sure of everything. + </p> + <p> + The porters and the people crowded forward. In their minds there may have + floated dim images of the traditional music-halls, the bobbies, the + 'buses, the 'Arrys and 'Arriets, the swells of London. + </p> + <h3> + THE END + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Men, Women, and Boats, by Stephen Crane + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEN, WOMEN, AND BOATS *** + +***** This file should be named 7239-h.htm or 7239-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/2/3/7239/ + + +Etext Produced by John Bilderback, Eric Eldred, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + +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. 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