PLEASANT DRIFTINGS.
How really like a home their rude little old house-boat appeared to the
boy, who had been lost in the woods and spent the night in a tramps’
camp, and to the old man, who had passed the long hours in wandering up
and down the lonely road, searching for his lost one. What comforts it
contained, and with what a delightfully easy motion it glided down the
sunlit river. Even Rusty seemed to feel that he was at home, and to
recognize the place; for the moment he was taken into the cabin, he
sprang up on Arthur’s bunk, and nestled down at its foot, where the boy
had prepared a bed for him two days before.
While Uncle Phin was getting ready the breakfast for which they were all
so hungry, Arthur and Rusty, who had fully recovered his spirits, had a
fine game of romp, during which the dog displayed so much intelligence,
and performed so many funny tricks, as to completely win his young
master’s heart.
When breakfast was finished, Uncle Phin and Arthur sat on the cabin
roof, under a bit of an awning that the former had contrived, and talked
of their recent experience, while watching, with the delight of simple
natures, the exquisitely beautiful scenery through which they were
drifting. Between them, apparently appreciating it all as much as they,
sat Rusty, contentedly wagging his tail, the little white tip of which
seemed the emblem of perpetual motion. He had evidently transferred all
his affection to Arthur, and the expression of his honest eyes, as he
turned them upon his young master, was that of love and perfect
confidence.
This day was but the first of many such, during which the Ark, with
frequent stops, drifted down the quiet river, ever southward, and, as
its occupants fondly hoped, ever getting nearer to the far-away home
that they sought. They always tied up to the bank at night, and every
now and then they spent several days in a place, while Uncle Phin sought
odd jobs of work, by which he might earn a little money for the
replenishing of their stock of provisions.
During one of these stops, at a place where there was a large hotel, in
which a number of the summer guests lingered for the enjoyment of the
autumn scenery, something very pleasant happened to them. A boy of just
about Arthur’s age and size, who was staying at the hotel, walked down
to the river bank with his father. They were attracted by the quaint
appearance of the Ark; and, on going close enough to look in at one of
its open doors, were surprised to see that its occupants were an old
negro and a barefooted boy, the first of whom was patching a small
garment, while the other read aloud to him. The new-comers had little
difficulty in forming the acquaintance of Arthur, Uncle Phin, and Rusty,
or in learning their story.
In answer to Uncle Phin’s anxious inquiry as to whether he knew of any
work to be had in that neighborhood, the gentleman said he did not.
Then, with a little hesitation, he added that if Arthur cared to come up
to the hotel that evening, and read a story out of his book at a
children’s entertainment they were going to have, he would give him a
dollar.
Glancing sadly down at his ragged clothes, the boy said he should like
ever so much to do so, but did not see how he could.
Thereupon the gentleman, understanding the glance, said that his present
costume was so picturesque that he wanted him to come just as he was,
ragged, barefooted, and all. So Arthur went, being more proud of his
ability to earn a whole dollar than he was ashamed of his appearance,
and his reading was such a success that all the people were anxious to
know who he was.
When it was over, the kind gentleman invited him to his room, where
Arthur found a complete suit of the other boy’s clothes, including
shoes, stockings, and a round cap, which the gentleman said were for
him, and insisted upon his putting on at once.
So the boy was again dressed, and made to feel like a young gentleman;
and, when he reappeared down-stairs, nobody knew him, at first, for the
one who had read to them.
The next day a gay party of these hotel guests chartered the Ark for an
excursion, and drifted down the river on her, in company with Arthur and
Uncle Phin and Rusty, to a point about five miles below the village,
where carriages were waiting to take them back. For this use of the boat
they paid two dollars, besides leaving enough provisions behind them to
last our friends for several days.
By the kind gentleman, who appeared greatly interested in their journey,
Arthur and Uncle Phin were advised to sell their boat in Pittsburgh, as
that would offer a better market than points farther on, and to take the
cars from there.
So the whole month of October passed before the happy voyage was ended,
and, late one afternoon in November, the Ark was moored at the mouth of
a small creek on the outskirts of the city of Pittsburgh. It was a
region of iron-works, of foundries, furnaces, and rolling mills, a place
of noise and heat, and never-ending weariness. A dense cloud of black
smoke hung low above it that still November evening, and, though the air
was comparatively pure where the boat was moored, its pall-like presence
seemed to cast a foreboding of evil days over the hearts of our
travellers. As the darkness drew on, the smoke clouds were illumined by
a strange, lurid, glare like that of a great volcano. It was a weirdly
beautiful sight; but it filled them with uneasiness; and, after watching
it for a while, they were glad to enter their cosey little cabin, and
close it to all outside influences.
With heavy hearts they prepared and ate their evening meal; for there
was only food enough left for a slender breakfast, and they had no money
with which to purchase more. After supper they began seriously to
consider their plans for the future, of which they had talked but
vaguely thus far.
“Isn’t it too bad that we can’t go all the way in this boat?” said
Arthur.
“It is so, Honey,” replied Uncle Phin, “but dars no use er frettin.
We’ll go by de kyars and be dar in mos no time now.”
“Do you think we’ll get money enough to pay for riding on the cars,
Uncle Phin?”
“Sho, Honey! You doesn’t know much about trabblin, dats a fac; why it
don’t take no money fer to ride on de kyars. De man wif de brass
buttens, what owns ’em, jes gib you a lil ticket, and den you ride as
long as you like.”
Arthur was inclined to doubt this statement; but Uncle Phin was so
positive, that he tried to believe it. The truth was that, on the only
two railroad journeys he had ever taken in his life, Uncle Phin’s
tickets had been bought and paid for without his knowledge, and handed
to the conductor by Mr. Dustin, together with the others for his little
party. Then a conductor’s check had been stuck in the old man’s
hat-band, and he had ridden unquestioned to his journey’s end. Thus he
was led to believe that railroads were built, and cars run upon them,
for the free accommodation of all who were compelled by a hard fate to
move restlessly from place to place, and he felt very grateful for the
kindness thus extended.
“But Brace Barlow said we could sell the Ark for enough money to carry
us the rest of the way when we got here, you told me so, yourself,” said
Arthur, “and what did he mean if it isn’t going to cost anything?”
“Why, Honey, he mean to pay fer de grub we mus hab while we is a
trabblin, an fer de candies and picshur books, what de boy in de kyars
hans roun. You is jes nacherly ’bleeged to pay fer dem, ob cose. Yo
fader allus done dat,” answered the old man.
“Then we will have to sell the Ark to-morrow, I suppose,” said Arthur,
looking regretfully about the rude little cabin that had been so
pleasant a home to him.
“To be shuah, Honey. We jes drap a bit furder down de ribber, inter de
bizness place ob de city, fust ting in de mornin. Den we sell de boat,
an take to de kyars what’s boun fer ole Ferginny, an maybe by to-morrer
night we is all safe an soun at Dalecourt.”
“How much do you think we will get for the boat?”
“I don know per zackly, Honey. It’ll be cordin ter de deman fer boats.
Maybe five dollar, maybe ten. Depens on what dey is er fetchin,” replied
Uncle Phin, whose ideas as to the value of this sort of property were of
the vaguest description.
As their backs were turned to the cabin window that was nearest the
shore, neither Arthur nor Uncle Phin knew that, during this
conversation, an evil-looking face was peering in at them, and that its
owner was an attentive listener to all that they said.
Now, as they looked up, startled by an uneasy growl from Rusty, who had
just detected the stranger’s presence, and sprang barking toward the
window, the face was hastily withdrawn, and appeared no more.