 CHAPTER III. PART II. I wouldn't have had this happen for anything, said Cousin Egbert, indicating me. Lucky I got that knife away from him, said the other. To this I thought it best to remain silent, it being plain, that the men were both well along, so to say. The cab now approached an open square, from which issued discordant blasts of music. One glance showed it to be a street fair. I prayed that we might pass it, but my companions hailed it with the light, and at once halted the cabbie. Alley-Caffe on the corner directed the tuttle-person, and once more we were seated at an iron table with whiskey and soda ordered, before us was the street fair, in all its silly activity. There were many tinseled booths at which games of chants or marksmanship were played, or at which articles of ornament or household decoration were displayed for sale, and about these were throngs of low-class French idling away their afternoon, in that mad pursuit of pleasure which is so characteristic of this race. In the centre of the place was a carousel, from which came the blaire of a steam-orchestrion playing the Marseillais, one of their popular songs. From where I sat I could perceive the circle of godly painted beasts that revolved about this musical atrocity. A fashion of horses seemed to predominate, but there was also an ostrich, a bearded Frenchman being astride this bird for the moment, a zebra, a lion, and a godly emblazoned giraffe. I shuddered as I thought of the evil possibilities that might be suggested to my two companions by this affair. For the moment I was pleased to note that they had forgotten my supposed indisposition, yet another equally absurd complication ensued when the drink arrived. Say, don't your friend ever loosen up? Asked the tuttle-person of Cousin Egbert, Tireder than Dick's hat-band, replied the latter. And then some he ain't bought once. Say, Beau, he continued to me, as I was striving to divine the drift of these comments, Have I got my fingers crossed or not? Seeing that he held one hand behind him I thought to humour him by saying, I fancy so, sir. He means yes, said Cousin Egbert. The other held his hand before me with the first two fingers spread wide apart. You lost, he said. How's that, sourdough? We stuck him the first rattle out of the box. Good work, said Cousin Egbert. You're stuck for this round, he added to me. Three rousing cheers! I readily perceived that they meant me to pay the score, which I accordingly did, though I at once suspected the fairness of the game. I mean to say, if my opponent had been a trickster, he could easily have rearranged his fingers to defeat me before displaying them. I do not say it was done in this instance. I am merely pointing out that it left open a way to trickery. I mean to say, one would wish to be assured of his opponent's social standing before playing this game extensively. No sooner had we finished the drink than the total person said to me, I'll give you one chance to get even. I'll guess your fingers this time. Accordingly I put one hand behind me and firmly crossed the fingers, fancying that he would guess them to be uncrossed. Instead of which he called out, crossed. And I was obliged to show them in that wise, though, as before pointed out, I could easily have defeated him by uncrossing them before revealing my hand. I mean to say, it is not on the face of it a game one would care to play with casual acquaintances. And I questioned even then in my own mind its prevalence in the States. As a matter of fact I may say that in my later life in the States I could find no trace of it and now believe it to have been a pure invention on the part of the total person. I mean to say, I later became convinced that it was, properly speaking, not a game at all. Again they were hugely delighted at my loss and wrapped smartly on the table for more drink. And now, to my embarrassment, I discovered that I lacked the money to pay for this round, as they would call it. Beg pardon, sir, said I discreetly to cousin Egbert. But if you could let me have a bit of change, a half-crown or so, to my surprise he regarded me coldly and shook his head emphatically in the negative. Not me, he said. I've been had too often. You're a good smooth talker, and you may be all right, but I can't take a chance at my time of life. What's he want now? Asked the other. The old story, said cousin Egbert, come off and left his purse on the hat rack or out in the woodshed someplace. This was the height of absurdity, for I had said nothing of the sort. I was looking for something like that, said the other. I never make a mistake in faces. You've got to watch there, haven't you? Yes, sir, I said, and laid on the table my silver English half-hunter with Albert. They both fell to examining this with interest, and presently the tattle-person spoke up excitedly. Well darn my skin if he ain't got a genuine double gazettes. How did you come by this, my man? He demanded sharply. It came from my brother-in-law, sir. I explained, six years ago, as security for a trifling loan. He sounds honest enough, said the tattle-person to cousin Egbert. Yes, but maybe it ain't a regular double gazettes, said the latter. The market is flooded with imitations. No, sir, I can't be fooled on them boys, he insisted the other. Blindfold me, and I could pick a double gazettes out every time. I'm going to take a chance on it, anyway. Whereupon the fellow pocketed my watch, and from his wallet passed to be a note of the so-called French money, which I was astounded to observe was for the equivalent of four pounds, or one hundred francs, as the French will have it. I'll advance that much on it, he said. But don't ask for another cent until I've had it thoroughly gone over by a plumber. It may have moths in it. It seemed to me that the chap was quite off his head, for the watch was worth not more than ten shillings at the most. Though what a double gazettes might be I could not guess, however I saw it would be wise to appear to accept the loan, and tendered the note in payment of the score. When I had secured the change I sought to intimate that we should be leaving. I thought even the street fair would be better for us than this rapid consumption of stimulants. I bet he'd go without buying, said Cousin Egbert. No, he wouldn't, said the other. He knows what's customary in a case like this. He's just a little embarrassed. Wait and see if I ain't right. At which they both sat and stared at me in silence for some moments. Until at last I ordered more drink, as I saw this was expected of me. He wants the cab man to have one with him, said Cousin Egbert. We're at the other not only beckoned our cabbie to join us, but called to two laborers who were passing, and also induced the waiter who served us to join in the round. He seems to have a lot of tough friends, said Cousin Egbert, as we all drank, though he well knew I had extended none of these invitations. AXLAC, a drunken sailor, soon as he gets a little money, said the other. Three rousing cheers, replied Cousin Egbert, and to my great chagrin he leaped to his feet, seized one of the navies about the waist, and there, on the public pavement, made a crude dance with him to the strain of the Marseillais from the steam-orchestrion. Not only this, but when the music had ceased, he traded hats with the navies, securing a most shocking affair in place of the new one, and as they parted he presented the fellow with the gloves and stick I had purchased for him that very morning. As I stared aghast at this faux-paw, the navie, with his new hat at an angle and twirling the stick, proceeded down the street with mincing steps and exaggerated airs of gentility to the applause of the entire crowd, including Cousin Egbert. This ain't quite the hat I want, he said as he returned to us, but the day is young, I have other chances. And with the help of the public-house window as a mirror he adjusted the unmentionable thing with affectations of great nicety. He always was a dressy old scoundrel, remarked the tattle-person, and then as the music came to us once more he continued, Say, sourdough, let's go over to the rodeo. They got some likely-looking broncs over there. Some in arm, accordingly, they crossed the street and proceeded to the carousel, first warning the cabbie and myself to stay by them lest harm should come to us. What now ensued was perhaps their most remarkable behaviour at the day. At the time I could account for it only by the liquor they had consumed, but later experience in the States convinced me that they were at times consciously spoofing. I mean to say it was quite too absurd. They're seriously believing what they seemed to believe. The carousel being at rest when we approached, they gravely examined each one of the painted wooden effigies, looking into such of the mouths as were open, and cautiously feeling the forelegs of the different mounts, keeping up an elaborate pretense the while that the beasts were real and that they were in danger of being kicked. One absurdly painted horse they agreed would be the most difficult to ride. Examining his mouth they disputed as to his age, and called the cabbie to have his opinion of the things fetlocks, warning each other to beware of his rearing. The cabbie, who was doubtless also intoxicated, made an equal pretense of the beast's realness, and indulged, I gathered, in various criticisms of its legs at great length. I think he's right, remarked the tuttle-person when the cabbie had finished. It's a bad case of splints. The leg would be blistered if I had him. I wouldn't give him corral room. That cousin Egbert, he's a bad actor. Look at his eye. Whoa there, you would, would you? Here he made a pretense that the beast had seized him by the shoulder. He's a man-eater. Why did I tell you? Keep him away. I'll take that out of him, said the tuttle-person. I'll show him who's his master. You ain't never going to try to ride him, Jeff. Think of the wife and little ones. You know me, sourdough. No horse never stepped out from under me yet. I'll not only ride him, but I'll put a silver dollar in each strupe and give you a thousand for each one I lose, and a thousand for every time I touch leather. Cousin Egbert here began to plead, tearfully, Don't do it, Jeff. Come on around here. There's a big five-year-old roan around here that will be safe as a church for you. Let that pinto alone. They ought to be arrested for having him here. But the other seemed obdurate. Start her up, professor, when I give the word. He called to the proprietor and handed him one of the French banknotes. Play it all out, he directed, as this person gasped with amazement. Cousin Egbert then proceeded to the head of the beast. You'll have to blind him, he said. Sure! replied the other, and with loud and profane cries to the animal they bound a handkerchief about his eyes. I can tell he's going to be a twister, warned Cousin Egbert. I better ear him. And to my increased amazement he took one of the beast's leather ears between his teeth and held it tightly. Then with soothing words to the supposedly dangerous animal the tattle person mounted him. Let him go! he called to Cousin Egbert, who released the ear from between his teeth. Wait! called the latter. We're all going with you! Whereupon he insisted that the cabbie and I should enter a sort of swan boat directly in the rear. I felt a silly fool, but I saw there was nothing else to be done. Cousin Egbert himself mounted a horse he had called a blue rhone, waved his hand to the proprietor, who switched a lever. The Marseillais blared forth, and the platform began to revolve. As we moved the tattle person whisked the handkerchief from off the eyes of his mount, and with loud shrill cries began to beat the sides of its head with his soft hat, bobbing about in his saddle moreover as if the beast were most unruly and liked to dismount him. Cousin Egbert joined in the yelling I am sorry to say, and lashed his beast as if he would overtake his companion. The cab man also became excited and shouted his utmost, apparently in the way of encouragement. Strange to say, I presume on account of the motion, I felt the thing was becoming infectious, and was absurdly moved to join in the shouts, restraining myself with difficulty. I could distinctly imagine we were in the hunting field and riding the tails off the hounds. As one might say, in view of what was later most unjustly alleged of me, I think it as well to record now that, though I had partaken freely of the stimulants since our meeting with the tattle person, I was not intoxicated, nor until this moment had I felt even the slightest elation. Now, however, I did begin to feel conscious of a mild exhilaration, and to be aware that I was viewing the behaviour of my companions with a sort of superior but amused tolerance. I can account for this only by supposing that the swift revolutions of the carousel had in some cold manner intensified or consummated, as one might say, the effect of my previous potations. I mean to say, the continued swirling about gave me a frothy feeling that was not unpleasant. As the contrivance came to rest, Cousin Egbert ran to the tattle person who had dismounted and warmly shook his hand, as did the cabbie. I certainly thought he had you there once, Jeff, said Cousin Egbert. Of all the twisters I ever saw, that outlaw is the worst. Wanted to roll me, said the other, but I learned him something. It may not be credited, but at this moment I found myself examining the beast and saying, he's crocked himself up, sir. He's gone tender at the heel. I knew perfectly it must be understood that this was silly, and yet I further added, I fancy he's picked up a stone. I mean to say it was the most utter rot, pretending seriously that way. You come away, said Cousin Egbert. Next thing you'll be thinking you can ride him yourself. I did in truth experience an earnest craving for more of the revolutions and said as much, adding that I rode at twelve stone. Larry and break his neck if he wants to? urged the tattle person. It wouldn't be right, replied Cousin Egbert. Not in his condition. Let's see if we can't find something gentle for him. Not the Rhone. I found she ain't bridal wise. How about that, pheasant? It's an ostrich, sir, I corrected him, as indeed it most distinctly was, though at my words they both indulged in loud laughter, affecting to consider that I had misnamed the creature. Ah, ostrich! they shouted. Poor old Bale, he thinks it's an ostrich. Quite so, sir, I said, pleasantly, but firmly, determining not to be hoaxed again. Don't drivel that way, said the tattle person. Leave it to the driver, Jeff. Maybe he'll believe him, said Cousin Egbert almost sadly, whereupon the other addressed the cabbie. Hey, Frank! he began, and continued with some French words, among which I caught Voulez-vous, Alley-Café, Foumer, and something that sounded much like Cuffuslium, at which the cabbie spoke at some length in his native language concerning the ostrich. When he had done the tattle person turned to me with a superior frown. Now I guess you're satisfied, he remarked. You heard what Frank said, it's an Arabian muffin-bird. Of course I was perfectly certain that the chap had said nothing of the sort, but I resolved to enter into the spirit of the thing, so I merely said, yes, sir, my error, it was only at first glance that it seemed to be an ostrich. Come along, said Cousin Egbert. I won't let him ride anything he can't guess the name of, it wouldn't be right to his folks. Well, what's that, then? demanded the other, pointing full at the giraffe. It's a bali-ant-eater, sir, I replied, divining that I should be wise not to seem too obvious in naming the beast. Well, well, so it is, exclaimed the tattle person delightedly. He's got the eye with him this time, said Cousin Egbert admiringly. He sure a wonder, said the other. That thing had me fooled. I thought at first it was a russian mouse-hound. Well, let him ride it then, said Cousin Egbert, and I was practically lifted into the saddle by the pair of them. One moment, said Cousin Egbert, can't you see the poor thing has a sore throat? Wait a laugh, fix him. And forthwith he removed his spats, and in another moment had buckled them securely high about the throat of the giraffe. It will be seen that I was not myself when I say that this performance did not shock me as it should have done, though I was, of course, less entertained by it than were the remainder of our party, and a circle of the French lower classes that had formed about us. Give him his head, let's see what time you can make. Shouted Cousin Egbert as the affair began once more to revolve. I saw that both my companions held opened watches in their hands. It here becomes difficult for me to be lucid about the succeeding events of the day. I was conscious of a mounting exhilaration as my beast swept me around the circle, and of a marked impatience with many of the proprieties of behaviour that ordinarily with me matter enormously. I swung my cap and joyously urged my strange steed to a faster pace. Being conscious of loud applause each time I passed my companions, for certain lapses of memory thereafter I must wholly blame this insidious motion. For example, though I believed myself to be still mounted and whirling, indeed I was strongly aware of the motion. I found myself seated again at the corner public house and rapping smartly for a drink, which I paid for. I was feeling remarkably fit, and suffered only a mild wonder that I should have left the carousel without observing it. Having drained my glass I then remember asking Cousin Egbert if he would consent to change hats with the cabbie, which he willingly did. It was a top hat of some strange, hard material brightly glazed. Although many unjust things were said of me later, this is the sole incident of the day which causes me to admit that I might have taken a glass too much, especially as I undoubtedly praised Cousin Egbert's appearance when the exchange had been made, and was heard to wish that we might all have hats so smart. It was directly after this that young Mr. Elmer, the art student, invited us to his studio, though I had not before remarked his presence, and cannot recall now where we met him. The occurrence in the studio, however, was entirely natural. I wished to please my friends, and made no demer whatever when asked to dawn the things. A trouserish affair of sheep's wool, which they called chaps. A flannel shirt of blue. They knotted a scarlet handkerchief around my neck, and a wide-brimmed white hat with four indentations in the crown, such as one may seen worn in the cinema dramas by cow persons, and other western coast desperados. When they had strapped around my waist a large pistol in a leather jacket, I considered the effect picturesque in the extreme, and my friends were loud in their approval of it. I repeat, it was an occasion when it would have been boorish in me to refuse to meet them halfway. I even told them an excellent wheeze I had long known, which I thought they might not have heard. It runs, Why is Charing Cross? Because the strand runs into it. I mean to say, this is comic, providing one enters holy into the spirit of it, as there is required a certain nimbleness of mind to get the point, as one might say. In the present instance some needed element was lacking, for they actually drew aloof from me and conversed in low tones among themselves, pointedly ignoring me. I repeated the thing to make sure they should see it. Where at? I heard cousin Egbert say, better not irritate him, he'll get mad if we don't laugh. After which they burst into laughter so extravagant that I knew it to be feigned. Hereupon feeling quite drowsy I resolved to have forty winks, and with due apologies reclined upon the couch where I drifted into a refreshing slumber. Later I inferred that I must have slept for some hours. I was awakened by a light flashed in my eyes and beheld cousin Egbert and the Tuttle Person, the latter wishing to know how late I expected to keep them up. I was on my feet at once with apologies, but they instantly hustled me to the door, down a flight of steps, through a courtyard and into the waiting cab. It was then I noticed that I was wearing the curious hat of the American far west, but when I would have gone back to leave it and secure my own, they protested vehemently, wishing to know if I had not given them trouble enough that day. In the cab I was still somewhat drowsy, but gathered that my companions had left me to dine and attend a public dance-hall with the cubish art student. They had not seemed to need sleep and were still wakeful, for they sang from time to time, and cousin Egbert lifted the cabby's hat, which he still wore, bowing to imaginary throngs along the street, who were supposed to be applauding him. I at once became conscious stricken at the thought of Mrs. Effie's feelings, when she should discover him to be in this state, and was on the point of suggesting that he seek another apartment for the night when the cab pulled up in front of our own hotel. Though I protested that I was now entirely recovered from any effect that the alcohol might have had upon me, it was not until this moment that I most heartably discovered myself to be in the full cow person's regalia. I had never intended to wear the things beyond the door, and could not have been hired to do so. What was my amazement then, to find my companions laboriously lifting me from the cab in this impossible tenue? I objected vehemently, but little good it did me. Get a policeman if he starts any of that rough stuff, said the tuttle-person, and in sheer horror of a scandal I subsided. While one on either side they hustled me through the hotel lounge, happily vacant of everyone but a tariff manager, and into the lift, and now I perceived that they were once more pretending to themselves that I was in a bad way from drink, though I could not at once suspect the full iniquity of their design. As we reached our own floor, one of them still seeming to support me on either side, they began loud and excited admonitions to me to be still, to come along as quickly as possible, to stop singing, and not to shoot. I mean to say, I was entirely quiet, I was coming along as quickly as they would let me. I had not sung, and did not wish to shoot, yet they persisted in making this loud adieu over my supposed intoxication, aimlessly as I thought, until the door of the flout drawing-room opened and Mrs. Effie appeared in the hallway. At this they redoubled their absurd violence with me, and by dint of tripping me they actually made it appear that I was scarce able to walk, nor do I imagine that the costume I wore was any testimonial to my sobriety. Now we got him safe, co-panted cousin Egbert, pushing open the door of my room. Get his gun first! warned the total person, and this being taken from me, I was unceremoniously shoved inside. What does all this mean? demanded Mrs. Effie, coming rapidly down the hall. Where have you been till this time of night? I bet it's your fault, Jeff Tuttle, you've been getting him going. They were both vulnerable with denials of this, and though I could scarce believe my ears, they proceeded to tell a story that laid the blame entirely on me. No ma'am, Mrs. Effie, began the total person. It ain't that way, at all. You wrong me, if ever a man was wronged. You just seen what state he was in, didn't you? Asked cousin Egbert in tones of deep injury. Do you want to take another look at him? And he made as if to push the door farther open upon me. Don't do it. Don't get him started again, warned the total person. I've had trouble enough with that man today. I seen it coming this morning, said cousin Egbert. When we was at the art gallery, he had a kind of wild look in his eyes, and I says right then, there's a man ought to be watched. And, well, one thing led to another. Just look at this hat he made me wear. Nothing would satisfy him, but I should trade hats with some cab driver. I was come along from looking at two or three good churches, broken the total person. When I seen Sourdough here having a kind of mix-up with this man, because of him insisting he must ride a kangaroo or something on a merry-go-round, and wanted Sourdough to ride an ostrich with him. And then when we got him quieted down a little, nothing would do him, but he's got to be a cowboy. You seen his clothes, didn't you? And of course I wanted to get back to Addy and the girls. But I seen Sourdough here was in trouble, so I stayed right by him. And between us we got the maniac here. He's one of them should never touch liquor, said Cousin Egbert. It makes a demon of him. I got its knife away from him early in the game, said the other. I don't suppose I got to wear this cabman's hat just because he told me to have I, demanded Cousin Egbert. And here I'd been looking forward to a quiet day seeing some well-known objects of interest. Came from the other. After I got my tooth pulled, that is. And me with the tooth, too, that nearly drove me out of my mind, said Cousin Egbert suddenly. I could not see Mrs. Effie, but she had evidently listened to this outrageous tale with more or less belief, though not wholly credulous. You men have both been drinking yourselves, she said shrewdly. We had to take a little. He made us, declared the tuttleperson brazenly. He got so he insisted on I taking something every time he did, added Cousin Egbert. And anyway, I didn't care so much with his tooth of mine he can like it does. You come right out with me, and around to that dentist I went to this morning, said the tuttleperson. You'll suffer all night if you don't. Maybe I'd better, said Cousin Egbert, though I hate to leave this comfortable hotel and go out into the night air again. I had the right of this in the morning, said Mrs. Effie. Don't think it's going to stop here. At this my door was pulled to and the key turned in the lock. Frankly I am aware that what I have put down above is incredible, yet not a single detail have I distorted. With a quite devilish ingenuity they had fastened upon some true bits. I had suggested the change of hats with the cabbie. I had wished to ride the giraffe, and the tuttleperson had secured my knife. But how monstrously untrue of me was the impression conveyed by these isolated facts. I could believe now quite all the tales I had ever heard of the queerness of Americans. Queerness indeed. I went to bed resolving to let the motto take care of itself. Again I was awakened by a light flashing in my eyes and became aware that Cousin Egbert stood in the middle of the room. He was reading from his notebook of art criticisms, with something of an oratorical effect. Through the half-drawn curtains I could see that dawn was breaking. Cousin Egbert was no longer wearing the cabbie's hat. It was now the flat cap of the pettus constable or policemen. This elderly, inebriate, and his accomplice, I sat up at once prepared to bully him down a bit. Although I was not sure that I engaged his attention, I told him that his reading could be very well done without, and that he might take himself off. At this he became silent and regarded me solemnly. Why did chairing cross the strand? Because three rousing cheers, said he. Of course he had the wheeze all wrong, and I saw that he should be in bed. So with gentle words I lured him to his own chamber. Here with a quite unexpected perversity he accused me of having kept him up the night long, and begged now to be allowed to retire. This he did, with muttered complaints of my behaviour, and was almost instantly asleep. I concealed the constable's cap in one of his boxes, for I feared that he had not come by this honestly. I then returned to my own room, where for a long time I meditated profoundly upon the situation that now confronted me. It seemed probable that I should be shopped by Mrs. Effie, for what she had been led to believe was my rowdyish behaviour. However dastardly the injustice to me, it was a solution of the problem that I saw I could bring myself to meet with considerable philosophy. It meant a return to the quiet service of the Honourable George, and that I need no longer face the distressing vicissitudes of life in the back blocks of unexplored America. I would not be obliged to muddle along in the blind fashion of the last two days, feeling a frightful fool. Mrs. Effie would surely not keep me on, and that was all about it. I had merely to make no defence of myself, and even if I chose to make one, I was not certain that she would believe me. So cunning had been the accusations against me, with that tiny thread of fact which I make no doubt has so often enabled historians to give a false colouring to their recitals without stating downright untruths. Indeed my shameless appearance in the garb of a cow person would alone have cast doubt upon the truth as I knew it to be. Then suddenly I suffered an illumination. I perceived all at once that to make any sort of defence of myself would not be cricket. I mean to say, I saw the proceedings of the previous day in a new light. It is well known that I do not hold with the abuse of alcoholic stimulants. And yet on the day before, in moments that I now confess to have been slightly elevated, I had been conscious of a certain feeling of fellowship with my two companions. That was rather wonderful. Though obviously they were not university men, they seemed to belong to what, in America, would be called the landed gentry. And yet I had felt myself on terms of undoubted equality with them. It may be believed or not, but there had been brief spaces when I forgot that I was a gentleman's man. Astoundingly I had experienced the confident ease of a gentleman among his equals. I was obliged to admit now that this might have been a mere delusion of the cup, and yet I wondered too if perchance I might not have caught something of that American spirit of equality which is said to be peculiar to republics. Needless to say, I had never believed in the existence of this spirit, but had considered it rather a ghastly jest. Having been a reader of our own periodical press since earliest youth, I mean to say, there could hardly be a stable society in which one had no superiors, because in that case one would not know who were one's inferiors. Nevertheless I repeat that I had felt a most novel enlargement of myself, had in fact felt that I was a gentleman, among gentlemen, using the word in its strictly technical sense. And so vividly did this conviction remain with me that I now saw any defence of my course to be out of the question. I perceived that my companions had meant to have me on toast from the first—I mean to say—that they had started a rag with me, a bit of chaff, and I now found myself rather preposterously enjoying the manner in which they had chivied me. I mean to say, I felt myself taking it, as one gentleman would take a rag from other gentlemen, not as a bit of a sneak who would tell the truth to save his face. A couple of chaffing old beggars they were, but they had found me a topping dead sportsman of their own sort. Be it remembered I was still uncertain whether I had caught something of that alleged American spirit, or whether the drink had made me feel equal, at least, to Americans. Whatever it might be, it was rather great, and I was prepared to face Mrs. Effie without a tremor, to face her, of course, as one overtaken by a weakness for spirits. When the bell at last rang, I donned my service-coat, and assuming a look of profound remorse, I went to the drawing-room to serve the morning coffee. As I suspected only Mrs. Effie was present, I believe it has been before remarked that she is a person of commanding presence, with a manner of marked determination. She favoured me with a brief but chilling glance, and for some moments thereafter affected quite to ignore me. Obviously she had been completely greened the night before, and was treating me with a proper contempt. I saw that it was no use grousing at fate, and that it was better for me not to go into the American wilderness, since a rolling stone gathers no moss. I was prepared to accept instant dismissal without a character. She began upon me, however, after her first cup of coffee, more mildly than I had expected. Ruggles, I'm horribly disappointed in you. Not more so than I myself, madam, I replied. I am more disappointed, she continued, because I felt that Cousin Egbert had something in him. Oh, something in him, yes, madam. I murmured sympathetically. And that you were the man to bring it out. I was quite hopeful after you got him into those new clothes. I don't believe anyone else could have done it. And now it turns out that you have this weakness for drink. Not only that, but you have a mania for insisting that other men drink with you. Think of those two poor fellows trailing you over Paris yesterday, trying to save you from yourself. I shall never forget it, madam, I said. Of course, I don't believe that Jeff Tuttle always has to have it forced on him. Jeff Tuttle is an Indian, but Cousin Egbert is different. You tore him away from that art gallery, where he was improving his mind and led him into places that must have been disgusting to him. All you wanted was to study the world's masterpieces in canvas and marble, yet you put a cabinet's hat on him and made him write an antelope, or whatever the thing was. I can't think where you got such ideas. I was not myself. I can only say that I seemed to be subject to an attack, and the Tuttle person was one of their Indians. This explained so much about him. You don't look like a periodical souse, she remarked. Quite so, madam. But you must be a wonder when you do start. The point is, am I doing right to entrust Cousin Egbert to you again? Quite so, madam. It seems doubtful if you are the person to develop his higher nature. Against my better judgment I here felt obliged to protest that I had always been given the highest character for quietness and general behavior, and that I could safely promise that I should be guilty of no further lapses of this kind. Frankly, I was wishing to be shopped, and yet I could not resist making this mild defence of myself. Such I have found to be the way of human nature. To my surprise I found that Mrs. Effie was more than half persuaded by these words, and was on the point of giving me another trial. I cannot say that I was delighted at this. I was ready to give up all Americans as problems won too many for me, and yet I was strangely a little warmed at thinking I might not have seen the last of Cousin Egbert, whom I had just given a tuck-up. You shall have your chance, she said at last, and just to show you that I'm not narrow, you can go over to the sideboard there and pour yourself out a little one. It ought to be a life saver to you, feeling the way you must this morning. Thank you, madam. And I did, as she suggested. I was feeling especially fit, but I knew that I ought to play in character, as one might say. Three rousing cheers, I said, having gathered the previous day that this was a popular American toast. She stared at me rather oddly, but made no comment other than to announce her departure on a shopping tour. Her bonnet, I noted, was quite wrong, too extremely modish it was, accenting its own lines at the expense of a face to which less attention should have been called. This is a mistake common to the sex, however. They little dream how sadly they mock and betray their own faces. Nothing, I think, is more pathetic than their trustful unconsciousness of the tragedy, the rather plainish face under the contemptuous structure that points to it and shrieks derision. The rather plain woman who knows what to put upon her head is a woman of genius. I have seen three, perhaps. I now went to the room of cousin Egbert. I found him awake and cheerful, but disinclined to arise. It was hard for me to realise that his simple kindly face could mask the guile he had displayed the night before. He showed no sign of regret for the false light in which he had placed me. Indeed, he was sitting up in bed as cheerful and independent as if he had paid tuppence for a pock chair. Ah, fancy! he began, that we ought to spend a peaceful day indoors. The trouble with these foreign parts is that they don't have enough home life. If it isn't one thing, it's another. Sometimes it's both, sir, I said, and he saw it once that I was not to be weedled. Thereupon he grinned brazenly at me and demanded, what did she say? Well, sir, I said, she was highly indignant at me for taking you and Mr. Tuttle into public houses and forcing you to drink liquor. But she was good enough after I had expressed my great regret and promised to do better in the future, to promise that I should have another chance. It was more than I could have hoped, sir, after the outrageous manner in which I behaved. He grinned again at this, and in spite of my resentments I found myself grinning with him. I am aware that this was a most undignified submission to the injustice he had put upon me, and it was far from the line of stern rebuke that I had fully meant to adopt with him, but there seemed no other way. I mean to say, I couldn't help it. I'm glad to hear you talk that way, he said. It shows you may have something in you after all. What you want to do is to learn to say no. Then you won't be so much trouble to those who have to look after you. Yes, sir. I said, I shall try, sir. Then I give you another chance, he said sternly. I mean to say, it was all spoofing the way we talked. I am certain he knew it as well as I did, and I'm sure we both enjoyed it. I am not one of those who think it shows a lack of dignity to unbend in this manner on occasion. True, it is not with everyone I could afford to do so, but cousin Egbert seemed to be an exception to almost every rule of conduct. At his earnest request I now procured for him another carafe of iced water. He seemed already to have consumed two of these, after which he suggested that I read to him. The book he had was the well-known story, Robinson Crusoe, and I began a chapter which described some of the hero's adventures on his lonely island. Cousin Egbert, I was glad to note, was soon sleeping soundly, so I left him and returned to my own room for a bit of needed rest. The story of Robinson Crusoe is one in which many interesting facts are conveyed regarding life upon remote islands, where there are practically no modern conveniences, and one is put to all sorts of crude makeshifts. But for me the narrative contains too little dialogue. For the remainder of the day I was left to myself, a period of peace that I found most welcome, not until evening that I meet any of the family except cousin Egbert, who partook of some light nourishment late in the afternoon. Then it was that Mrs. Effie summoned me when she had dressed for dinner to say, We are sailing for home the day after tomorrow. See that cousin Egbert has everything he needs. The following day was a busy one, for there were many boxes to be packed against the morrow's sailing and much shopping to do for cousin Egbert, although he was much against this. It's all nonsense, he insisted. Her saying all that truck helps to finish me. Look at me, I've been in Europe darn near four months and I can't see that I'm a lick more finished than when I left Red Gap. Of course it may show on me so other people can see it, but I don't believe it does at that. Nevertheless I bought him no end of suits and smart haberdashery. When the last box had been strapped I hastened to our old lodgings on the chance of seeing the Honourable George once more. I found him dejectedly studying an ancient copy of the referee. Too evidently he had dined that night in a costume which would, I am sure, have offended even cousin Egbert. Above his dress trousers he wore a golfing waistcoat and a shooting jacket. However I could not allow myself to be distressed by this. Indeed I knew that worse would come. I forebored to comment upon the extraordinary choice of garments he had made. I knew it was quite useless. From any word that he let fall during our chat he might have supposed himself to be dressed as an English gentleman should be. He bade me seat myself and for some time we smoked our pipes in a friendly silence. I had feared that as on the last occasion he would row me for having deserted him, but he no longer seemed to harbour this unjust thought. We spoke of America and I suggested that he might some time come out to shoot big game along the Ohio or the Mississippi. He replied moodily, after a long interval, that if he ever did come out it would be to set up a cattle plantation. It was rather agreed that he would come should I send for him. Cat sat around for ever waiting for old Neville's toast-crumbs, said he. We chatted for a time of home politics, which was of course in a wretched state. There was a time when we might both have been warned to a sane and reasons liberalism, but the present so-called government was coming at a bit too thick for us. We said some sharp things about the little Welsh attorney who was beginning to be England's humiliation. Then it was time for me to go. The moment was rather awkward, for the Honourable George, to my great embarrassment, pressed upon me his dispatch case, one that we had carried during all our travels, and into which tidily fitted a quart flask. Brandy we usually carried in it. I managed to accept it with a word of thanks, and then amazingly he shook hands twice with me. As we said good night, I had never dreamed he could be so greatly affected. Indeed I had always supposed that there was nothing of the sentimentalist about him. So the Honourable George and I were definitely a part for the first time in our lives. It was with mingled emotions that I set sail next day for the foreign land to which I had been exiled by a turn of the cards. Not only was I off to a wilderness where a life of daily adventure was the normal life, but I was to mingle with foreigners who promised to be quite almost impossibly queer if the family of floods could be taken as a sample of the Native American, knowing Indians like the Tuttleperson, that sort of thing. If some would be less queer, others would be even more queer, with queerness of a sort to tax even my Savoy Fair, something which had been sorely taxed, I need hardly say, since that fatal evening when the Honourable George's intuitions had played him false in the game of drawing poker, I was not the first of my countrymen, however, to find himself in desperate straits, and I resolved to behave as England expects us to. I have said that I was viewing the prospect with mingled emotions. Before we had been out many hours, they became so mingled that having crossed the channel many times I could no longer pretend to ignore their true nature. For three days I was at the mercy of the elements, and it was then I discovered a certain hardness in the nature of Cousin Egbert, which I had not before suspected. It was only by speaking in the sharpest manner to him that I was able to secure the nursing my condition demanded, I made no doubt he would actually have left me to the care of a steward had I not been firm with him. I have known him leave my bedside for an hour at a time, when it seemed probable that I would pass away at any moment, and more than once when I summoned him in the night to administer one of the remedies with which I had provided myself, or perhaps to question him if the ship were out of danger, he exhibited something very like irritation. Indeed, he was never properly impressed by my suffering, and at times when he would answer my call it was plain to be seen that he had been passing idle moments in the smoke room or elsewhere, quite as if the situation were an ordinary one. It is only fair to say, however, that toward the end of my long and interesting illness I had quite broken his spirit and brought him to be as attentive as even I could wish. By the time I was able, with his assistance to go upon deck again, he was bringing me nutritive wines and jellies without being told, and so attentive did he remain that I overheard a fellow passenger address him as Florence Nightingale. I also overheard the senator tell him that I had got his sheep, whatever that may have meant, a sheep or a goat, some domestic animal. Yet with all his willingness he was clumsy in his handling of me, he seemed to take nothing with any proper seriousness, and in spite of my sharpest warning he would never wear the proper clothes, so that I always felt he was attracting undue attention to us. Indeed I should hardly care to cross with him again, and this I told him straight. Of the so-called joys of ship life concerning which the boat companies speak so enthusiastically in their folders, the less said the better. It is a childish mind, I think, that can be impressed by the mere wobbly bulk of water. It is undoubtedly tremendous, but nothing to kick up such a row about. The truth is that the prospect from a ship's deck lacks that variety which one may enjoy from almost any English hillside. One sees merely water, and that's all about it. It will be understood therefore that I hailed our approach to the shores of foreign America with relief, if not with enthusiasm. Even this was better than an ocean which has only size in its favour, and has been quite too foolishly overrated. We were soon steaming into the harbour of one of their large cities. Chicago, I had fancied it to be, until the chance remark of an American who looked to be a well-informed fellow identified it as New York. I was much annoyed now at the behaviour of cousin Egbert, who burst into silly cheers at the slightest excuse, a passing steamer, a green hill, or a rusty statue of quite ungainly height which seemed to be made of crude iron. Do as I would, I could not restrain him from these unseemly shouts. I could not help contrasting his boisterousness with the fine reserve which, for example, the Honourable George would have maintained under these circumstances. A further relief it was, therefore, when we were on the dock and his mind was diverted to other matters. A long time we were detained by custom officials, who seemed rather overwhelmed by the gowns and millinery of Mrs. Effie. But we were at last free, and taken through the streets of the crude new American city of New York to a hotel overlooking what I dare say in their simplicity they call their Hyde Park. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Of Ruggles of Red Gap by Harry Leon Wilson This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 5 I must admit that at this inn they did things quite nicely. Doubtless because it seemed to be almost entirely staffed by foreigners. One would scarcely have known within its walls that one had come out to North America, nor that savage wilderness surrounded one on every hand. Indeed I was surprised to learn that we were quite at the edge of the rough western frontier, for in but one night's journey we were to reach the American mountains to visit some people who inhabited a camp in their dense wilds. A bit of romantic thrill I felt in this adventure, for we should encounter, I inferred, people of the hardy pioneer stock that has pushed the American civilization such as it is ever westward. I pictured the stalwart woodsman ax in hand, braving the forest to fell trees for his rustic home. While at night the red savages prowled about to scalp any who might stray from the blazing campfire. On the day of our landing I had read something of this, of depredations committed by their Indians at Arizona. From what would I take it be their Victoria Station? We three began our journey in one of the Pullman night coaches, the senator of this family having proceeded to their home settlement of Red Gap with word that he must look after his vences, referring doubtless to those about his cattle plantation. As our train moved out Mrs. Effie summoned me for a serious talk concerning the significance of our present visit, not of the wilderness dangers to which we might be exposed, but of its social aspects, which seem to be of prime importance. We were to visit, I learned, one Charles Belknap Jackson of Boston and Red Gap, he being a person who mattered enormously, coming from one of the very oldest families of Boston, a port on their east coast, and a place I gathered in which some decent attention is given to the matter of who has been one's family. A bit of a shock it was to learn that in this rough land they had their castes and precedences. I saw I had been right to suspect that even a crude society could not exist without its rules for separating one's superiors from the lower sorts. I began to feel it once more at home, and I attended the discourse of Mrs. Effie with close attention. The Boston person, in one of those irresponsibly romantic moments that sometimes trapped the best of us, had married far beneath him, espousing the simple daughter of one of the crude, old, settling families of Red Gap. Further, so inattentive to details had he been, he had neglected to secure an anti-nuptial settlement, as our own men so wisely make it their rule to do, and was now suffering a painful embarrassment from this folly. For the mother-in-law, controlling the rather sizable family fortune, had harshly insisted that the pair reside in Red Gap, permitting no more than an occasional summer visit to his native Boston, whose inhabitants she affected not to admire. Of course the poor fellow suffers frightfully, explained Mrs. Effie. Shut off there, away from all he'd been brought up to. But good has come of it, for his presence has simply done wonders for us. Before he came, our social life was too awful for words. Oh, a mixture. Practically everyone in town attended our dances. No one had ever told us any better. The Bohemians sat mingled freely with the very oldest families. Oh, in a way that would never be tolerated in London society, I'm sure. And everything so crude. Why, I can remember when no one thought of putting doilies under the finger bowls. No tone to it at all. For years we had no country club, if you can believe that. And even now, in spite of the efforts of Charles and a few of us, there are still some of the older families that are simply sloppy in their entertaining and promiscuous the trouble I've had with the senator and cousin Egbert. The flouts are an old family, I suggested, wishing to understand these matters deeply. The flouts, she answered impressively, were living in red gap before the spur track was ever run out to the canning factory. And I guess you know what that means. Quite so, madam, I suggested. And indeed, though it puzzled me a bit, it sounded rather tremendous, as meaning with us something like, since the Battle of Hastings. But, as I say, Charles at once gave us a glimpse of the better things. Thanks to him, the Bohemian set and the Northside set are now fairly distinct. The scraps we've had with that Bohemian set, he has a real genius for leadership, Charles has. But I know he often finds it so discouraging getting people to know their places. Even his own mother-in-law, Mrs. Lysander John Pettingill. But you'll see tomorrow how impossible she is, poor old soul. I shouldn't talk about her. I really shouldn't. Awfully good heart the poor old dear has. But, well, I don't see why I shouldn't tell you the exact truth in plain words. You find it out soon enough. She is simply a confirmed mixer. The child she's been and is to poor Charles. Almost no respect for any of the higher things he stands for. And temper? Well, I've heard her swear at him, till you'd have thought it was Jeff Tuttle packing a green kiosk for the first time. Words? Talk about words. And Cousin Egbert always standing in with her. He's been another awful trial, refusing to play tennis at the country club, or to take up golf, or do any of those smart things. Though I got him a beautiful lot of sticks. But no, when he isn't out in the hills, he'd rather sit down in that back room at the Silver Dollar Saloon playing cribbage all day with a lot of drunken loafers. But I'm so hoping that will be changed now that I've made him see there are better things in life. Don't you really think he's another man? To an extent, madam, I daresay, I replied cautiously. It's chiefly what I got you for, she went on. And then, in a general way, you will give tone to our establishment. The moment I saw you, I knew you could be an influence for good among us. No one there has ever had anything like you, not even Charles. He's tried to have American valets, but you never can get them to understand their place. Charles finds them so offensively familiar. They don't seem to realize. But of course you realize. I inclined my head in sympathetic understanding. I'm looking forward to Charles meeting you. I guess he'll be a little put out at our having you. But there's no harm letting him see I'm to be reckoned with. Naturally, his wife, Millie, is more or less mentioned as a social leader. But I never could see that she is really any more prominent than I am. In fact, last year, after our bizarre eval nations, our pictures in costume were in the Spokane paper, as red gaps rival society queens. And I suppose that's what we are, though we work together pretty well as a rule. Still, I must say, having you puts me a couple of notches ahead of her. Only, for heaven's sake, keep your eye on cousin Egbert. I shall do my duty, madam. I returned, thinking it all rather morbidly interesting, these weird details about their county families. I'm sure you will, she said at parting. I feel that we shall do things right this year. Last year, the Sunday Spokane paper used to have nearly a column under the head in social duins of red gaps smarts it. This year we'll have a good two columns if I don't miss my guess. In the smoking compartment, I found cousin Egbert staring gloomily into vacancy, as one might say. The reason I knew, being that he had vainly pleaded with Mrs. Effie to be allowed to spend this time at their Coney Island, which is a sort of Brighton. He transferred his stare to me, but at last none of its gloom. Hail begins to pop, said he. Referring to what, sir? I rejoined with some severity, for I have never held with profanity. Referring to Charles Belknap hyphen Jackson of Boston Mass, said he. The greatest little troublemaker that ever crossed the hails, with a bracelet on one wrist, and a watch on the other, and a one-shot eyeglass, and a gold cigarette case, and key chains, rings, bangles, and jewelry, till he'd sink like lead if he ever fell into the crick with all that metal on. You are speaking, sir, about a person who matters enormously, I rebuked him. If I hadn't been afraid of getting arrested, I'd have shot him long ago. It's not done, sir, I said, quite horrified by his rash words. It's liable to be, he insisted. I bet Ma Pettengill will go in with me on it any time I give her the word. Say, listen, there's one good mixer. The confirmed mixer, sir, for I remembered the term. The best ever. Anyone can set into her game that's got a stack of chips. He uttered this with deep feeling, whatever it might exactly mean. I can be pushed just so far. He insisted, sullenly. It struck me then that he should perhaps have been kept longer in one of the European capitals. I feared his brief contact with those refining influences had left him less polished than Mrs. Effie seemed to hope. I wondered uneasily if he might not cause her to miss her guests. Yet I saw he was in no mood to be reasoned with, and I retired to my bed, which the Blackamore Guard had done out. Here I meditated profoundly for some time before I slept. Morning found our coach shunted to a siding at a backwood settlement on the borders of an inland sea. The scene was wild beyond description, where quite almost anything might be expected to happen, though I was a bit reassured by the presence of a number of persons of both sexes who appeared to make little of the dangers by which we were surrounded. I mean to say, since they thus took their women into the wild so freely, I would still be a dead sportsman. After a brief wait at a rude key we embarked on a launch and steamed out over the water. Mile after mile we passed wooded shores that sloped up to mountains of prodigious height. Indeed the description of the rocky mountains, of which I take these to be a part, have not been overdrawn. From time to time at the edge of the primeval forest I could make out the rude shelters of Hunter and Trapper, who braved these perils for the sake of a scant livelihood for their hardy wives and little ones. Cousin Egbert beside me seemed unimpressed, making no outcry at the fearsome wildness of the scene, and when I spoke of the terrific height of the mountains, he merely admonished me to quit my kidding. The sole interest he had thus far displayed was in the title of our craft, Storm King. Ha! think of a guy's imagination, name in this here chaff and dish, the Storm King, said he. But I was impatient of levity at so solemn a moment, and promptly rebuked him for having dawned a cravat that I had warned him, was for town-ware alone, whereat he subsided and did not again intrude upon me. Far ahead at length I could describe an open glade at the forest edge, and above this I soon spied floating the North American flag, or national emblem. It is, of course, known to us that the natives are given to making rather a silly noise over this flag of theirs, but in this instance, the pioneer fighting his way into the wilderness and hoisting it above his frontier home, I felt strangely indisposed to criticise. I understood that he could be greatly cheered by the flag of the country he had left behind. We now neared a small dock from which two ladies brandished handkerchiefs at us, and were presently welcomed by them. I had no difficulty in identifying the Mrs. Charles Belnap Jackson, a lively featured brunette of neutral tints, rather stubby as to figure, but modestly done out, in white flannels. She surveyed us interestingly through a Lornean, observing which Mrs. Effie was quick with her own. I surmised that neither of them was skilled with this form of glass, which must really be raised with an air or its no good. Also, that each was not a little chagrin to note that the other possessed one. Nor was it less evident that the other lady was the mother of Mrs. Belnap Jackson, I mean to say the confirmed mixer, an elderly person of immense bulk in grey walking skirt, heavy boots, and a flowered blouse that was overwhelming. Her face, under her greyish thatch of hair, was broad and smiling, the eyes keen, the mouth wide, and the nose rather a bit blobby. Although at every point she was far from vogue, she impressed me not unpleasantly. Even her voice, a magnificently hoarse rumble, was primed with a sort of uncouth goodwill, which one might accept in the States. Of course, it would never do with us. I fancied I could at once detect why they had called her the mixer. She embraced Mrs. Effie with an air of being about to strangle the woman. She affectionately wrung the hands of Cousin Egbert, and had grasped my own tightly before I could evade her, not having looked for that sort of thing. That's Cousin Egbert's man, called Mrs. Effie, but even then the powerful creature would not release me until her daughter had called sharply. Ma, don't you hear? He's a man. Nevertheless, she gave my hand a parting shake before turning to the others. Glad to see a human face at last. She boomed. Here I've been a month in this dinky hole, which I thought strange since we were surrounded by league upon league of the primal wilderness. Cooped up like a hen in a barrel. She added in tones that must have carried well out over the lake. Cousin Egbert's man, repeated Mrs. Effie a little ostentatiously, I thought. Poor Egbert's, so dependent on him, quite helpless without him. Cousin Egbert muttered sullenly to himself as he assisted me with the bags. Then he straightened himself to address them. Warn him in a game of freeze-out, he remarked quite viciously. Does he dull sourdough up like that all the time? Demanded the mixer. Or has he just come from a masquerade? What's he represent anyway? And these words, when I had taken a special pains and resorted to all manner of threats, to turn him smartly out in the walking suit of a pioneer? Ma! cried our hostess. Do you try to forget that dreadful nickname of Egbert's? I sure will, if he keeps his disguise on. She rumbled back. The old horned toad is most as funny as Jackson. Really, I mean to say, they talked most amazingly. I was but too glad when they moved on and we could follow with the bags. Calls her Ma all right now, hissed Cousin Egbert in my ear. But when that begoshed husband of hers is around the house, she calls her Maeter. His tone was vastly bitter. He continued to mutter sullenly to himself, away he had, until we had disposed of the luggage and I was laying out his afternoon and evening wear in one of the small detached houses to which we had been assigned. Nor did he sink his grievance on the arrival of the mixer a few moments later. He now addressed her as Ma and asked if she had the makings, which puzzled me until she drew from the pocket of her skirt a small cloth sack of tobacco and some bits of brown paper, from which they both fashioned cigarettes. The smart set of red gap is holding its first annual meeting for the election of officers back there. She began after she had emitted twin jets of smoke from the widely separated corners of her set mouth. I say, you know, where's hyphen old top? demanded Cousin Egbert in a quite vile imitation of one speaking in the correct manner. Fishin answered the mixer with a grin, in a thousand dollars worth of clothes. These here eastern trout won't notice you unless you dress right. I thought this strange indeed, but Cousin Egbert merely grinned in his turn. How'd he get you into this awfully horrid, rough place? he next demanded. Made him. This a red gap for yours. I says the two weeks in New York wasn't so bad, what with Millie and me getting new clothes. Though him and her both jumped on me that I'm getting too gay about clothes for a part of my age. What's age to me? I says when I like bright colors. Then we tried his home folks in Boston, but I played that string out in a week. Two old maid sisters, thin noses and knitted shawls. Stick around in the back parlor talking about families, whether it was Aunt Lucy's Abigail or the Concord Cousin's Hester that married an Adams in 78 and moved out west to Buffalo. I thought first I could liven them up some. You know, looked like it would help a lot for them to get out in a hack and get a few shots of hooch under their belts, stop at a few roadhouses, take in a good variety show, get them to feelin' good, understand? No use, wouldn't start. Darn it. They held off from me. Don't know why. I sure wore clothes for them. Yes sir, I'd get dressed up like a broken arm every afternoon and say I got one sheath skirt black and white striped that just has to be looked at. Never faze them though. I got to think and maybe it was because I made my own smokes instead of using those vegetable cigarettes of Jackson's or maybe because I'd get parched and demand a slug of booze before supper. Like a Sunday afternoon all the time when you eat a big dinner and everybody's sleepy and mad because they can't take a nap and have to sit around and play a few church tunes on the organ or look through the album again. Ain't that right? Don't it fade you, murmured cousin Egbert with deep feeling. And little lie, Sander, my only grandson, poor kid, gettin' the fidgets because they try to make him talk different and raise hell every time he knocks over a vase or busts a window. Say, would you believe it? They wanted to keep him there. Yes sir, make him refined. Not for me. His father's about all he can survive in those respects, I says. What do you think wanted to let his hair grow so he'd have curls? Some dames, yes. I bet they'd have give the kid lovely days. Boston may be okay for grandfathers, I says. Not for grandsons, though. Then Jackson was set on Bar Harbor and I had to be firm again. Darn it, that man is always makin' me be firm. So here we are. He said it was a camp, and that sounded good. But my lands, he wears his full evening dress suit for supper every night, and you had ought to hurt him go on one day when the patent-ice machine went bad. My good gosh! said cousin Egbert quite simply. I had now finished laying out his things and was about to withdraw. Is he always like that? Suddenly demanded the mixer, pointing at me. Oh, Bill's all right when you get him out with a crowd. Explained the other. Bill's really got the makin' ends of one fine little mixer. They both regarded me geneal-y. It was vastly puzzling, I mean to say, I was at a loss how to take it. For of course that sort of thing would never do with us. And yet I felt a queer, confused sort of pleasure in the talk. Absurd though it may seem, I felt there might come moments in which America would appear almost not impossible. As I went out, cousin Egbert was telling her of Paris, I lingered to hear him disclose, that all Frenchmen have M for their first initial, and that the Lauer family must be one of the wealthiest, the name A. Lauer, being conspicuous on millions of dollars' worth of their real estate. This family, he said, must be like the Rothschilds. Of course the poor soul was absurdly wrong, I mean to say, the letter M merely indicates Monsieur, which is their foreign way of spelling Mr, while A. L. A. signifies Toulette. I resolved to explain this to him at the first opportunity, not thinking it right, that he should spread such gross error among a race still but half enlightened. Having now a bit of time to myself, I observed the construction of this rude homestead, a dozen or more detached or semi-detached structures of the native log, yet with the interiors more smartly done out than I had supposed was common even with the most prosperous of their scouts and trappers. I suspected a false idea of this rude life had been given by the cinema dramas, I mean to say, with pianos, ice-machines, telephones, objects of art, and servants, one saw that these woodsmen were not primitive in any true sense of the word. The butler proved to be a genuine Blackamore, a Mr. Waterman, he informed me, his wife also a black being the cook, an elderly creature of the utmost gravity of bearing, he brought to his professional duties a finish, a dignity, a manner in short that I have scarce known excelled among our own serving people, and a creature he was of the most eventful past, as he informed me at our first encounter, as a slave he had commanded an immensely high price, some twenty thousand dollars, as the American money is called, and two prominent slave holders had once fought a duel to the death over his possession. Not many, he assured me, had been so eagerly sought after, they being for the most part held cheaper. Common black trash, he put it. Early tiring of the life of slavery he had fled to the wilds, and for some years led a desperate band of outlaws, whose crimes soon put a price upon his head. He spoke frankly and with considerable regret of these lawless years. At the outbreak of the American war, however, with a reward of fifty thousand dollars offered for his body, he had boldly surrendered to their Secretary of State for war, receiving a full pardon for his crimes on condition that he assist in directing the military operations against the slave holding aristocracy. Invaluable he had been in the service, I gathered. Two generals, named respectively Grant and Sherman, having repeatedly assured him that but for his aid they would more than once in sheer despair have laid down their swords. I could readily imagine that after these years of strife he had been glad to embrace the peaceful calling in which I found him engaged. He was, as I have intimated, a person of lofty demeanor, with a vein of high seriousness. Yet he would unbend at moments as frankly as a child and play at a simple game of chance with a pair of dice. This he was good enough to teach to myself and gained from me quite a number of shillings that I chance to have. For his consort, a person of tremendous bulk named Clarice, he showed a most chivalric consideration. And even what I might have mistaken for timidity in one not a confessed desperado, in truth he rather flinched when she interrupted our chat from the kitchen doorway by roundly calling him an old black liar, and I saw that his must indeed be a complex nature. From this encounter I chanced upon two lads who seemed to present the marks of the backwood's life as I had conceived it. Strolling up a woodland path I discovered a tent pitched among the trees, before it a smouldering campfire over which a cooking pot hung. The two lads, of ten years or so, rushed from the tent to regard me, both attired in shirts and leggings of deerskin, profusely fringed after the manner in which the red Indians decorate their outing or lounge suits. They were armed with sheath-knives and revolvers, and the taller bore a rifle. Howdy, stranger! exclaimed this one, and the other repeated the simple American phrase of greeting. Responding in kind I was bade to seat myself on a fallen log, which I did, for some moments they appeared to ignore me, excitedly discussing an adventure of the night before and addressing each other as Deadshot and Hawkeye. From their quaint backward speech I gathered that Deadshot, the taller lad, had the day before been captured by a band of hostile redskins, who would have burned him at the stake but for the happy chance that the chieftain's daughter had become enamoured of him and cut his bonds. They now planned to return to the encampment at nightfall to fetch away the daughter, whose name was White Vaughn, and cleaned and oiled their weapons for the enterprise. Deadshot was vindictive in the extreme, sweating to engage the chieftain in mortal combat, and to cut his heart out, the same chieftain in former years having led his savage band against the forest home of Deadshot, while he was yet too young to defend it, and scalped both of his parents. I was a mere stripling then, but now the coward will feel my steel, he coldly declared. It had become absurdly evident, as I listened, that the whole thing was but spoofing of a silly sort that lads of this age will indulge in, for I had seen the younger one take his seat at the luncheon-table. But now they spoke of a raid on the settlement to procure grub, as the American slang for food has it, bidding me stop on there and to utter the cry of the great horned owl if danger threatened. They stealthily crept toward the buildings of the camp, presently came a scream, followed by a horse shout of rage, a second later the two dashed by me into the dense woods, hawkeye, betting a plucked fowl. Soon Mr. Waterman panted up the path, brandishing a barge pole, and demanding to know the wetterbouts of the marauders. As he had apparently for the moment reverted to his primal African savagery, I deliberately misled him by indicating a false direction, upon which he went off, muttering the most frightful threats. The two culprits returned, put their fowl in the pot to boil, and swore me eternal fidelity for having saved them. They declared I should thereafter be known as Keen Knife, and that, needing a service, I might call upon them freely. Deadshot never forgets a friend, affirmed the taller lad, whereupon I formally shook hands with the pair, and left them to their childish devices. They were plotting, as I left, to capture that nigger, as they called him, and put him to death by slow torture. But I was now shrewd enough to suspect that I might still be far from the western frontier of America. The evidence had been cumulative, but was no longer questionable. I mean to say, one might do hear somewhat after the way of our own people at a country-house in the Shires. I resolved at the first opportunity to have a look at a good map of our late colonies. Late in the afternoon our party gathered upon the small dock, and I understood that our host now returned from his trouting. Along the shore of the lake he came, propelled in a native canoe by a hairy, backwoods person, quite wretchedly gotten up, even for a wilderness. Our host himself, I was quick to observe, was vogue to the last detail, with a sense of dress and equipment that can never be acquired, having to be born in one. As he stepped from his frail craft I saw that he was rather slight of stature, dark, with slender mustaches, a finely sensitive nose, and eyes of an almost austere repose. That he had much of the real manner was at once apparent. He greeted the flouts and his own family with just that faint touch of easy superiority which would stamp him to the trained eye as one that really mattered. Mrs. Effie beckoned me to the group. Let Ruggles take your things! Cousin Egbert's man! she was saying. After a startled glance at Cousin Egbert, our host turned to regard me with flattering interest for a moment, then transferred to me his admins of fishing machinery, his rod, his creel, his luncheon hamper, landing net, small scales, ointment for warding off midges, a jar of cold cream, a case containing smoked glasses, a rolled map, a camera, a book of lies. As I was stowing these he explained that his sport had been wretched, no fish had been hooked because his guide had not known where to find them. I here glanced at the backwards person referred to and at once did not like the look in his eyes. He winked swiftly at Cousin Egbert, who coughed rather formally. Let Ruggles help you to change! continued Mrs. Effie. He's awfully handy. Poor Cousin Egbert is perfectly helpless now without him. So I followed our host to his own detached hut, though feeling a bit queered being passed about in this manner, I mean to say, as if I were a basket of fruit, yet I founded a grateful change to be serving one who knew our respective places and what I should do for him. His manner of speech also was less barbarous than that of the others, suggesting that he might have lived among our own people of fortnight or so and have tried earnestly to correct his deficiencies. In fact, he remarked to me after a bit, Ah, fancy I talk rather like one of yourselves, what! and was pleased as punch when I assured him that I had observed this. He questioned me at length regarding my association with the Honourable George and the houses at which we would have stayed, being immensely particular about names and titles. You'll find us vastly different here, he said with a sigh, as I held his coat for him. Crude, I may say. In truth, red gap, where my interests largely confine me, is a town of impossible persons. You'll see in no time what I mean. I can already imagine it, sir, I said sympathetically. It's not for want of example. It's not for want of example, he added. Scores of times, I show them better ways, but they are eaten up with commercialism, money-grubbing. I perceived him to be a person of profound and interesting views, and it was with regret that I left him to bully Cousin Egbert into evening-dress. It is undoubtedly true that he will never wear this, except it have the look of having been forced upon him by several persons of superior physical strength. The evening passed in a refined manner with cards and music, the latter being emitted from a phonograph, which I was asked to attend to, and upon which I reproduced many of their quaint North American folk songs, such as Everybody Is Doing It, which has a rare native rhythm. At ten o'clock it being noticed by the three playing dummy bridge that Cousin Egbert and the mixer were absent. I accompanied our host in search of them. In Cousin Egbert's hut we found them, seated at a bare table playing at cards, a game called Seven Upwards, I learned. Cousin Egbert had removed his coat, collar, and cravat, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows like a navies. Both smoked the brown paper cigarettes. You see, murmured Mr. Belknap Jackson as we looked in upon them. Quite so, sir, I said discreetly. The mixer regarded her son-in-law with some annoyance, I thought. Run off to bed, Jackson. She directed. We're busy. I'm putting a nick in Sourdough's bankroll. A host turned away with a contemptuous shrug that I daresay might have offended her had she observed it, but she was now speaking to Cousin Egbert, who had stared at us, brazenly. Ring that bell for the coon, Sourdough. I'll split a bottle of scotch with you. It clearly occurred to me that she made this monstrous suggestion in a spirit of bravado to annoy Mr. Belknap Jackson.