A KNIGHT OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY - Edward Payson Roe (best color ebook reader TXT) 📗

Goin' To Sleep, And If I Don'T Sleep Well My Cat And Dog Hear

From Me The Next Day. You Could Be Mighty Comfortable Tonight In your

Good Bed with This Young Chap Sittin' On A Curb-Stun In the Rain; But I

Be Hanged if You Shall Be. It'S Beginnin' To Rain Now--It'S Goin' To Be

A Mean Night--Mean As Yourself--A Cold, Oncomfortable Drizzle; Just Such

A Night As Makes These Poor Homeless Devils Feel That Since They Are

Half Under Water They Might As Well Go Down To The River And Get Under

Altogether. P'Raps They Do It Sometimes In the Hope Of Finding a Warm,

Dry Place Somewhere. Dreadful Suddint Change For 'Em, Though! And It'S

We Respectable, Comfortable People That'S To Blame For These Suddint

Changes Half The Time.

 

 

 

"You Know That Heady Young Chap Out There Will Go To The Bad If Somebody

Don'T Pull Him Up. You Know That It Would Be Mean As Dirt To Let Him Go

Wanderin' Off To-Night With Only Fifty Cents In his Pocket, Tryin' To

Find Some Place To Put His Head In out Of The Storm; And Yet You Want To

Git Out Of Doin' Anything More For Him. You'Re Thinkin' How Much More

Comfortable It Will Be To Sit Dozin' In your Chair, And Not Have Any

Stranger Botherin' Round. But I'Ll Head You Off Agin In spite Of Your

Cussed, Mean, Stingy, Selfish, Old, Shrivelled-Up Soul, That Would Like

To Take Its Ease Even Though The Hull World Was A-Groanin' Outside The

Door. A-A-H!"

 

 

 

Having Made It Clear To The Perverse Jeremiah Growther--Against Whom He

Seemed to Hold Such An Inveterate Spite--What He Must Do, He Arose And

Called to Haldane:

 

 

 

"What Are You Doin' Out There In the Rain?"

 

 

 

"I'Ll Be Through In a Few Minutes."

 

 

 

"I Don'T Want The Rest Done Till Mornin'."

 

 

 

"It Will Pay Neither Of Us For Me To Come Back Here To Do What'S Left."

 

 

 

"It May Pay You, And As To Its Payin' Me, That'S My Business."

 

 

 

"Not Altogether--I Wish To Do My Work On Business Principles; I Haven'T

Got Down To Charity Yet."

 

 

 

"Well, Have Your Own Way, Then; I S'Pose Other Folks Have A Right To

Have It As Well As Myself, Sometimes. Come In soon As You Are Through."

 

 

 

By The Time Haldaue Finished his Task The Clouds Had Settled heavily All

Around The Horizon, Hastening Forward An Early And Gloomy Twilight, And

The Rain Was Beginning To Fall Steadily. His Mood Comported with The

Aspect Of Sky And Earth, And Weariness, The Fast Ally Of Despondency,

Aided in giving a Leaden Hue To The Future And A Leaden Weight, To His

Thoughts. The Prospect Of Trudging a Mile Or More Through The Drenching

Rain To His Previous Squalid Resting-Place At No. 13, Whose Only

Attraction Consisted in the Fact That No Questions Were Asked, Was So

Depressing That He Decided to Ask Mr. Growther For Permission To Sleep

In The Corner Of His Woodshed.

 

 

 

"Come In," Shouted mr. Growther, In response To His Knock At The Door.

 

 

 

"I'M Through," Said Haldane Laconically.

 

 

 

"Well, I Ain'T," Replied mr. Growther; "You Wouldn'T Mind Taking That

Cheer Till I Am, Would You?"

 

 

 

Haldane Found The Cushioned armchair And The Genial Fire Exceedingly To

His Taste, And He Felt That In such Comfortable Quarters He Could Endure

Hearing The Old Man Berate Himself Or Any One Else For An Hour Or More.

 

 

 

"Where Are You Goin' To Sleep To-Night?" Asked his Quaint-Visaged host.

 

 

 

"That Is A Problem I Had Been Considering Myself," Answered haldane,

Dubiously. "I Had About Concluded that, Rather Than Walk Back Through

The Rain To The Wretched place At Which I Slept Last Night, I Would Ask

For The Privilege Of Sleeping In your Wood-Shed. It Wouldn'T Be Much

Worse Than The Other Place, Or Any Place In which I Could Find Lodging

If I Were Known. Since I Did Not Steal Your Silver I Suppose You Can

Trust Me With Your Wood."

 

 

 

"Yet They Say Your Folks Is Rich."

 

 

 

"Yes, I Can Go To As Elegant A House As There Is In this City."

 

 

 

"Why In thunder Don'T You Go There, Then?"

 

 

 

"Because I Would Rather Be In your Wood-Shed and Other Places Like It

For The Present."

 

 

 

"I Can'T Understand That."

 

 

 

"Perhaps Not, But There Are Worse Things Than Sleeping Hard And Cold.

There Are People Who Suffer More Through Their Minds Than Their Bodies.

I Am Not Going Back Among My Former Acquaintances Till I Can Go As A

Gentleman."

 

 

 

The Old Man Looked at Him Approvingly A Moment, And Then Said

Sententiously:

 

 

 

"Well, You May Be A Bad Cuss, But You Ain'T A Mean One."

 

 

 

Haldane Laughed outright. "Mr. Growther," Said He, "You Do Me Honor. I

Foresee You Will Trust Me With Your Wood-Pile To-Night."

 

 

 

"No I Won'T Nuther. You Might Not Take My Wood, But You Would Take Cold,

And Then I'D Have To Nuss You And Pay Doctor'S Bills, And Bother With

You A Week Or More. I Might Even Have Your Funeral On My Hands. You

Needn'T Think You'Re Goin' To Get Me Into All This Trouble, Fur I'M One

That Hates Trouble, Unless It'S Fur Myself; And, If I Do Say It, It'S

Askin' A Little Too Much Of Me, Almost A Stranger, To 'Tend To Your

Funeral. I Don'T Like Funerals--Never Did--And I Won'T Have Nothin' To

Do With Yours. There'S A Room Right Upstairs Here, Over The Kitchen,

Where You Can Sleep Without Wakin' Up The Hull Neighborhood A Coughin'

Before Mornin'. Now Don'T Say Nothin' More About It. I'M Thinkin' Of

Myself Plaguy Sight More'N I Am Of You. If I Could Let You Go To The

Dogs Without Worryin' About It, I'D Do It Quick Enough; But I'Ve Got A

Miserable, Sneakin' Old Conscience That Won'T Stand Right Up And Make Me

Do Right, Like A Man; But When I Want To Do Some Thin' Mean It Begins A

Gnawin' And A Gnawin' At Me Till I Have To Do What I Oughter For The

Sate Of A Little Peace And Comfort. A-A-H!"

 

 

 

"Your Uncomfortable Conscience Seems Bent On Making Me Very Comfortable;

And Yet I Pledge You My Word That I Will Stay Only On One Condition, And

That Is, That You Let Me Get Supper And Breakfast For You, And Also Read

The Paper Aloud This Evening. I Can See That You Are Tired and Lame From

Your Walk. Will You Agree?"

 

 

 

"Can'T Very Well Help Myself. These Easterly Storms Allers Brings The

Rheumatiz Into My Legs. About All They Are Good Fur Now Is To Have The

Rheumatiz In 'Em. So Set Plates For Two, And Fire Ahead."

 

 

 

Haldane Entered into His Tasks With Almost Boyish Zest. "I'Ve Camped out

In The Woods, And Am Considerable Of A Cook," Said He. "You Shall Have

Some Toast Browned to A Turn, To Soak In your Tea, And Then You Shall

Have Some More With Hot Cream Poured over It. I'Ll Shave The Smoked beef

So Thin That You Can See To Read Through It."

 

 

 

"Umph! I Can'T See After Dark Any More Than An Old Hen."

 

 

 

"How Did You Expect To Read The Paper Then?" Asked haldane, Without

Pausing In his Labors.

 

 

 

"I Only Read The Headin'S. I Might As Well Make Up The Rest As The

Editors, Fur Then I Can Make It Up To Suit Me. It'S All Made Up Half The

Time, You Know."

 

 

 

"Well, You Shall Hear The Editors' Yarns To-Night Then, By Way Of

Variety."

 

 

 

The Old Man Watched the Eager Young Fellow As He Bustled from The

Cupboard To The Table, And From The Store-Closet To The Fireplace, With

A Kindly Twinkle In his Small Eyes, From Which The Deep Wrinkles Ran In

All Directions And In strange Complexity. There Could Scarcely Be A

Greater Contrast Than That Between The Headstrong And Stalwart Youth And

The Withered and Eccentric Hermit; But It Would Seem That Mutual

Kindness Is A Common Ground On Which All The World Can Meet And Add

Somewhat To Each Other'S Welfare.

 

 

 

The Sound Hard Wood Which Haldane Had Just Sawn Into Billets Blazed

Cheerily On The Hearth, Filling The Quaint Old Kitchen With Weird And

Flickering Lights And Shades. Mr. Growther Was Projected against The

Opposite Wall In the Aspect Of A Benevolent Giant, And Perhaps The

Large, Kindly, But Unsubstantial Shadow Was A Truer Type Of The Man Than

The Shrivelled anatomy With Which The Town Was Familiar. The

Conservative Dog, No Longer Disquieted by Doubts And Fears, Sat Up And

Blinked approvingly At The Preparation For Supper. The Politic Cat, Now

Satisfied that Any Attentions To The Stranger Would Not Compromise Her,

And Might Lead To Another Delicate Morsel, Fawned against His Legs, And

Purred as Affectionately As If She Had Known Him All Her Life And Would

Not Scratch Him Instantly If He Did Anything Displeasing To Her.

 

 

 

Take It Altogether, It Was A Domestic Scene Which Would Have Done Mrs.

Arnot'S Heart Good To Have Witnessed; But Poor Mrs. Haldane Would Have

Sighed over It As So Utterly Unconventional As To Be Another Proof Of

Her Son'S Unnatural Tastes. In her Estimation He Should Spend Social

Evenings Only In aristocratic Parlors; And She Mourned over The Fact

That From Henceforth He Was Excluded from These Privileged places Of His

Birthright, With A Grief Only Less Poignant Than Her Sorrow Over What

Seemed to Her A Cognate Truth, That His Course And Character Also

Excluded him From Heaven.

Chapter XXIV (How Public Opinion Is Often Made)

"I Don'T S'Pose There'S Any Use Of Two Such Reprobates As Us Thinkin'

About Sayin' Grace," Said Mr. Growther, Taking His Place At The Head Of

The Table; "And Yet, As I Said, I Allers Have A Sneakin' Wish Jest To Go

Through The Form; So We'Ll All Begin In the Same Way--Cat And Dog And

God'S Rational Critters. Howsomever, They Don'T Know No Better, And So

Their Consciences Is Clear. I'Ll Own Up This Toast Is Good, If I Am

Eatin' It Like A Heathen. If You Can'T Find Anything Else To Do, You Can

Take To Cookin' For A Livin'."

 

 

 

"No One In town, Save Yourself, Would Trust Me In their Kitchen."

 

 

 

"Well, It Does Seem As If A Man Had Better Lose Everything Rather Than

His Character," Said Mr. Growther Thoughtfully.

 

 

 

"Then It Seems A Pity A Man Can Lose It So Cursed easily," Added haldane

Bitterly, "For, Having Lost It, All The Respectable And Well-To-Do Would

Rather One Should Go To The Devil A Thousand Times Than Give Him A

Chance To Win It Back Again."

 

 

 

"You Put It Rather Strong--Rather Strong," Said The Old Man, Shaking His

Head; "For Some Reason Or Other I Am Not As Mad At Myself And Everything

And Everybody To-Night As Usual, And I Can See Things Clearer. Be Honest

Now. A Month Ago You Belonged to The Rich, High-Flyin' Class. How Much

Then Would You Have Had To Do With A Young Fellow Of Whom You Knew Only

Four Things--That He Gambled, Got Drunk, 'Bezzled a Thousand Dollars,

And Had Been In jail? That'S All Most People In town Know About You."

 

 

 

Haldane Laid Down His Knife And Fork And Fairly Groaned.

 

 

 

"I Know The Plain Truth Is Tough To Hear And Think About, And I'M An Old

Brute To Spile Your Supper By Bringing It Up. I Hope You Won'T Think I'M

Trying To Save Some Victuals By Doin' It. And Yet It'S The Truth, And

You'Ve Got To Face It. But Face It To-Morrow--Face It To-Morrow; Have A

Comfortable Time To-Night."

 

 

 

"Your Statement Of The Case Is Perfectly Bald," Said Haldane, With A

Troubled brow; "There Are Explanatory And Excusing Circumstances."

 

 

 

"Yes, No Doubt; But The World Don'T Take Much Account Of Them. When One

Gits Into A Scrape, About The Only Question Asked is, What Did He _Do?_

And They All Jump To The Conclusion That If He Did It Once He'Ll Do It

Agin. Lookin' Into The Circumstances Takes Time And Trouble, And It

Isn'T Human Nature To Bother Much About Other People."

 

 

 

"What Chance Is There, Then, For Such As I Am?"

 

 

 

The Old Man Hitched uneasily On His Chair, But At Last, With His

Characteristic Bluntness Said,