The Man Without a Country, and Other Tales

iled. He owed us all six months' wages, and we were all very poor and very blue. Jonathan Whittemore-a real good fellow, who used to cover the hammers with leather-came to me the day the

could, with Voightlander or Von Hammer till he could enter the Conservatory. By w

hing,-it is one of Burrham's tickets,-which I bought in a f

e would use it twenty times as much as I should. As [pg 214] for the ticket, he had better kee

nd so "cheap excursions" came into being. They are one of the gifts the Public gives its children. Rising from step to step, Burrham had, just before the great financial crisis, conceived the idea of a great cheap combination, in which everybody was to receive a magazine for a year and a cyclop?dia, both at half-price; and not only so, but the money that was gained in the combination was to be given by lot to two ticket-holders, one a man and one a woman, for

y oar. But my hand was out at teaching, and in a time when all the world's veneers of different kinds were ripping off, nobody wanted me to put on more of my kind,-so that my cash ran low. I would not go in de

the city, which I had never seen, and get my cyclop?dia and magazine. It was the least offer the Public ever made to me; but just then the Public was in a collapse, and the least was better than nothing. The plan of so long a journey was Quixotic enough, and I hesitated about it a good deal. Finally I came to this resolve: I would start in the morning to walk to the lock-station at Brockpor

le drew, as in the trades a sailor feels of every rope and sail. And so I was not tired, not thirsty, till the brook appeared where I was to drink; nor hungry till twelve o'clock came, when I was to dine. I called myself as I walked "The Child of Good Fortune," because the sun was on my right quarter, as the sun should be when you walk, because the rain of yesterday had laid the dust for me, and the frost of yesterday had painted the hills for me, and the northwest wind cooled the air for me. I came to Wilk

orses were just put on, and a reckless boy gave them their first blow after two hours of rest and corn. As the heavy boat started off under the new motion, I saw, and her skipper saw at the same instant, that a long new tow-rope of his, which had lain coiled on deck, was suddenly flying out to its full length. The outer end of it had been carried upon the lock-side by some chance or blunder, and there [pg 218] some idle loafer had thrown the looped bight of it over a hawser-post. The loafers on the lock saw, as I did, that the rope was running out, and at the call of the skipper one of them condescended to throw the loop overboard, but he did it so carelessly that the lazy rope rolled over into the lock, and the loop caught on one o

by my hands, to catch with my right foot the bight of the rope and lift it off the treacherous iron, to kick the whole into the water, and then to scramble up the wet lock-

ut I knew she was there. And that was the first time I ever saw her. It is many years since, and I have seen her every day from that evening to this evening. But I had then no business with her. My affair was with him whom I have called the skipper, by way of adapting this fresh-wat

to be done, and Zekiel and I calc'late to do mo

ople, who are improving their habits, cure themselves of a stro

come to Albany, you can have your vittles, poor enough they are too; and ef you are willing to ride sometimes, you [pg 220] can ride. I guess w

ty as we travelled farther, that but for the timely assistance

en Mrs. Grills, who always voyaged with her husband, brought in the flapjacks from the kitchen. "Miss Jones," said Grills, as I came into the meal, leaving Zekiel at the tiller,-"Miss Jones, this is a young man who is going to Albany. I don'

s shut, you do not know you move. The route is [pg 221] so direct, that when you are once shielded from the sun, you are safe for hours. You draw, you read, you write, or you sew, crochet, or knit. You play on your flute or your guitar, without one hint of in

d in those lovely autumn days, and for the eight days that we glided along,-there is one blessed level which is seventy miles long,-I spent most of my time with Fausta. We walked together on the tow-path to get our appetites for dinner and for supper. At sunrise I always made a cruise inland, and collected the gentians and black alder-berries and colored leaves, with which she d

unciation at St. Catherine's, among the boatmen there, and he would say shwo for "horses," where the book said chev

ory, that I was going to seek my fortune in New York. She, of course, kn

was very glad,-I have seldom in my life been so glad,-when I found that she also was going to New York immediately. She accepted,

nger t

hand,-"nor l

ttle things! I can remember each touch of the toilet, as, in that corner of a dark cuddy where I had shared "Zekiel's" bunk with him. I dressed myself with one of my two white shirts, and with the change of raiment which had been tight squeezed in my portmanteau. The old overcoat wa

er my arm, led her to the gangway of the Newton, took her passage and mine, and afterwar

ll. I had no reason for haste, as the reader knows. The distribution of the cyclop?dias was not to take place till the next day, and that absurd trifle was the only distinct excuse I had to myself for being in New York at all. [pg 224] I asked Miss Jones, therefore, if I might not be her es

by Philadelphia trains and other exigencies, the Newton made her dock, I rejoiced that breakfast was not till seven o'clock,

the waiting trunk, left almost alone, while the baggage-master's back was turned, and that, to a certainty, it was lost. I did not return to Fausta with this story till the breakfast-bell had long passed and the breakfast was very cold. I did not then tell it to her till I had seen her eat her breakfast with an appetite much better than mine. I

y asked if "my lady" would give some description of any books or other articles within, I readily promised that I would call with such a description at the police station. Somewhat encouraged, I returned to Miss Jones, and, when I led her from the break

trunk contained the letter of the aunt whom she came to visit, giving her [pg 226] her address in the city. To this address she had no other clew but that her aunt was Mrs. Mary Mason, had married a few years before a merchant named Mason, whom Miss Jones had never seen, and of whose name and business this was all she knew. T

lived. The genie of course suggested the Directory, and I ran for it to the clerk's office. But as we were toiling down the pages of "Masons," and had written off thirteen or fourteen who lived in numbered streets, Fausta started, looked back at the preface and its date, flung down her

d not explain wholly. But she did not say that she had no friends who knew this address. She had but few relations in the world, and her aunt had communicated with her alone since she came from Europe. As for the boarding-house, "I had rather look for work," she said bravely. "I have never promised to

, I was certain of the cyclop?dia the next day. That should go to old Gowan's,-in Fulton Street it was then,-"the moral centre of the intellectual world," in the hour I got it. And at this moment, for the first time, the thought crossed me, "If mine could only be the name drawn, [pg 228] so tha

never borrow. Please God, I never will. It must be," she added, "that in a Christian city like this there is some respectable and fit arrangement

pathy, there was a delicious throb of self-respect united, when I heard her lay down so simply, as principles of her life, two principles on which I had always mys

not let me help her,-joined with my certainty that she was in the right in re

this, that I have a right to help you in your quest as to the way in which the public will help you. Thus f

adies' saloon, as if it were the last

skylight, lam

ne'er migh

d been one mean thought in me at that minute, she

you, though people would say

lined the invitations of the noisy ha

nothing at the shops; a soldier's medal, such as were given as target prizes by the Montgomery regiment; and a little silver canteen, marked with the device of the same regiment, seemed to him [pg 230] better worthy of note. Her portfolio was wrought with a cipher, and she expl

e send to you then

For myself, I thought that one slip of pretence in my dress or bearing, a scrap of gold or of pinchbeck, would have ruined both of us in our ap

e will be. Mr. Carter will call

had been a "Child of the Public," she could not more fitly have spoken to one of her father's officers. I begged he

on any of the enterprises of which she talked so coolly, as of offering herself as a nursery-girl, or as a milliner, to whoever would employ her, if only she could thus secure an honest home till mo

derful sights to see, and good walking to our feet, as a bette

g a new city, staring into windows as only strangers can, revelling in print-shops as only they do, really seeing the fine buildings as re

or French, Miss Jones." "Ah oui" said she, "mais où?" and I had calculated my distances, and led her at once into Lafay

provides for his children

you say, here?" Then she saw that our entrance excited no surprise a

and another, and yet another, and between us we kept the attendant well in motion. A pleasant thing to me to be finding out her thoroughbred tastes and lines of work, and I was happy enough to interest her in some of my pet reading

al who was supposed to have it would certainly stop either at Piermont or at Newburg. They had telegraphed to both places, and were in time for both. "The day boat, sir, will bring your [pg 233] lady's trunk, and wil

ay-and I, to her, "will you let me remind you, then, that at one we dine, that Mrs. Grills is now placing the salt-pork upon the cabin table, and Mr. Grills asking the

in you,"-little thinking how she started my blood with the words; but this time, as if

ob of that sort. I show my colors. I led her into a little cross-street which I had noticed in our erratic morning pilgrimage. We stopped at a German baker's. I bade her sit down at the neat marble table, and I bo

to dinner. Nor did I come only to see the lions or to read French. I insist on your going to your affairs, and leaving me to mine. If you will m

low my own plans. I stopped at one or two cabinet-makers, and talked with the "jours" about work, that I might tell her with truth that I had been in sear

. Maso

my nam

ess of Mr. Mason who retu

such pers

emerged and met me. Her plan for the afternoon had been the same with mine. We laughed as we detected each other; then I told her she had had quite enough of this, that it was time she should rest, and took her, nolens volens, into the ladies' parlor of the St. Nicholas, and bade her

with intelligence-houses and advertisements. For the night, I was determined that she should spend it in my ideal "respectable boarding-house." On my way down town, I stopped in at one or two shops to make inquiries, and satisfied myself where I would take her. Still I thought it wisest that [pg 236] we should go after tea; and another cross-street baker, and anoth

vice had begun. A hundred or more people had straggled in then, and the preacher, good soul, he took for his text, "Doth not God care for the ravens?" I cannot describe the ineffable feeling of home that came over me in that dark pew of that old church. I had never been in so large a church before. I had never heard so heavy an organ before. Perhaps I had hear

nded, and I ventured to ask her whether she also had this sense of home and rest, she assented so eagerl

any possible harm that could

that very same thing, but I d

eeper! But I only said, "At the 'respectable bo

to me here. I know that

e down-stairs worshippers. He passed along the aisles below, with his long poker which screwed down the gas. I saw at once that he had no intent of exploring the galleries. But I loitered outside till I saw him lock the doors and depart; an

ectable boar

he captain that I was green in the city; had got no work and no money. In truth, I had left my purse in Miss Jones's charge, and a five-cent piece, which I showed the chief, was all I

lic did for me that n

old his wife I had left my gloves in church the night before,-as was the truth,-and easily obtained from her the keys. In a moment I was in the vestibule-locked in-was in the gallery, and there found Fausta, just awake, as she declared, from a comfortable night, reading her morning lesson in the Bible, and sure, she said, that [pg 239] I

dersleeves neatly, and her collar, before she slept, and put them between the cushi

d a home. And I must do the same. Only when I pressed her to let me know of her success, she said she would meet me at the Astor Library just before it closed. No, she would not take my money. Enough, that for twenty-four hours she had been my guest. When she had found her aunt and told her the story, they should insist on rep

had not yet seized it for their own. I spent the morning in asking vainly for Masons fresh from Europe, and for work in cabinet-shops. I found ne

seat No. 3,671 with a good deal of parade, and when I came there I found I was very much of a prisoner. I was late, or rather on the stroke of two. Immediately, almost, Mr. Burrham arose in the front and made a long speech about his liberality, and the public's [pg 241] liberality, and everybody's liberality in general, and the method of the distribution in particular. The mayor and four or five other well-known and respectable gentlemen were kind enough to be present to guarantee the fairness of the arrangements. At the suggestion of the mayor and the police, the doors would now be closed, that no persons might int

might I see her again. An hour before this certainty was my own, now it was only mine by my liberating myself from this prison. Still I was encouraged by [pg 242] seeing that everything was conducted like clock-work. From literally a hundred stations they were distributing the books. We formed ourselves into queues as we pleased, drew our numbers, and then

heatre witnessing the greatest folly of the age. And if I did not meet her to-day, when should I meet her? If she found her aunt, how should I find her? If she did not find her,-good God? that was worse,-where might she not be before twelve hours were over? Then the fatal trunk! I had told the [pg 243] police agent he might send it to the St. Nicholas, because I had to give him some address. But Fausta did not know this, and the St. Nicholas people knew nothing of us. I grew more and more excited, and when at last my next neighbor told me that it was half past four, I rose and insisted on leaving my seat. Two ushers with blue sashes al

the palladium. "If you are not more civil, sir, I will call the police, of w

ncing that they would not go on until there was perfect quiet; and

nd reproachful looks and sneers of my more respectable neighbors, who had sat where they were told to do. We must be through in a moment, and

in, "No. 2,973!" By this time we all knew where the "two thousands" sat. Then "nine hundreds" were not far from the front, so that it was not far that that frightened girl, dressed all in black, and heavily veiled, had to walk, wh

d, with a good deal of ostentation, he opened a check-book, filled a check and passed it to [pg 245] her, she signing a receipt as she took it, and transferring to him her ticket. So far, in dumb show, all was well. Wha

counter-cry never takes as its prototype does, either. At first, on the stage, they affected not to hear or understand; then there was a courtly whisper between Mr. Burrham and the lady; but Mr. A--, the mayor, and the respectable gent

some vested right, hooted and shrieked, "Back! back! Face! face!" Mr. A-- returned, m

he. "The young lady is unwilling to unv

r five minutes as I hope I may never see or hear again. People kept their places fortunately, under a vague impression that they should forfeit some magic rights if they left those nu

the red ticket to her father. He read it as before, "No. 3,671!" I heard the words as if he did not speak them. All excited by the delay and the row, by the injustice to the stranger and the personal injustice of everybody to me, I did not know, for a dozen seconds, that every one was looking towards our side of the house, nor was it till

turned to bow to the mob,-for mob I must call it now. But the cheers died away. A few people tried to go out perhaps, but there was nothing now to retain any in their seats as before, and the generality rose, pressed down the passages, and howl

t sunset. The passages were very obscure. All around me rang this horrid yell of the mob, in which all that I could discern was the cry, "Face, face!" At last, as I groped round, I came to a practicable door. I

u?-you are indee

gfleet. My first thought was, "O, if that beggarly usher had let me g

rror; that I had feared I had lost her, and lost her forever; that to have lost that interview would have been worse to me than de

may think me wild; but I must say

my arms; she was trembling so that she could not have sat upright alone,-

nd I kissed her, and I said, "Never,

out on the sunset and the bay. We had but just time to rearrange ourselves [pg 249

ust hide you somewhere. I believe, before God, they wil

g back two or three bullies who were already upon it. I sprang upon the table, kicking down the red box as I did so, so that the red tickets fell on the floor and on the people below. One stuck in an old man's spectacles in a way wh

he has no brother nor sister. She is alone in the wo

nd we should have come off in triumph, when some

are you?"

lost, of course. Fortunately I had no t

the Public, and her

time successfully,-I believe with "See the Conquering Hero." The doors, of course, had been open long before. Well-disposed people saw they need stay no longer; ill-disposed people dared not s

ns. All these I received as well as I could,-somehow I did not feel at all surprised,-everything was as it should be.

ed into her room to find her. A group of gentlemen was around her. Her veil was [pg 251] back now. She was very pale, but very lovely. Have I said that she was beautiful a

te enough to guess that I was here. How he did it," sh

it was I who had shared with her

nd we rode to the St. Nicholas. I fairly laughed as I gave the hackman at the hotel door what would have been my last do

's trunk which ca

ed it, having seen, perhaps, a detective when he reached Piermont. The trunk had

supper after her. One kiss and "Good n

aid she, "you shall

, for the first time in my life, men whose books I had read, and whose speeches I had by heart, and women whom I have since known to honor; a

the disgrace into which I fell among the three thousand six hundreds. I had never been at any such party before. But I found it

roke up, Mrs.

re a stranger here. Let me send round for your trunk to the St. Nicholas, and

ented. In half an hour more I was

er," said I to myself,

lic did for me that n

g