[Illustration]
JOSIAH IN NEW YORK;
OR,
A COUPON FROM THE FRESH
AIR FUND.
BY
JAMES OTIS,
AUTHOR OF “TOBY TYLER,” “LITTLE JOE,” “JACK THE HUNCHBACK,”
ETC.
BOSTON:
A. I. BRADLEY & CO.
1893.
COPYRIGHT, 1893,
BY
A. I. BRADLEY & CO.
_All Rights Reserved._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER. PAGE.
I. THE SHINDLE FARM 1
II. THE ARRIVAL 19
III. A FRIEND IN NEED 34
IV. A SYSTEMATIC SEARCH 40
V. A MEAN TRICK 63
VI. A THEATRE PARTY 79
VII. A MIDNIGHT ALARM 93
VIII. THE ZOOLOGICAL COLLECTION 114
IX. THE EXCURSION 130
X. A DISAPPEARANCE 145
XI. BOB’S FRIEND 158
XII. THE MUSEUM 171
XIII. THE FEAST 186
XIV. THE PURSUIT 201
XV. THE ARREST 215
XVI. THE COUPON 227
XVII. AT HOME 246
JOSIAH IN NEW YORK;
OR,
A COUPON FROM THE FRESH AIR FUND.
CHAPTER I.
THE SHINDLE FARM.
On this particular day an almanac would not have been needed to prove
to the visitor at the Shindle Farm that winter was near at hand.
The wide-spreading trees leading from the road to the low-studded
house, which made up in breadth what it lacked in height, had already
put on their autumnal dress of crimson, gold, and brown, embroidered
here and there with green left over from the last summer’s wardrobe.
The enormous barn was crowded to overflowing with fruits of the
harvest. Mows were heaped high with sweet-scented hay, and the
corn-bins filled almost to bursting. The granaries seemed to groan
under their heavy burdens, and the sleek cattle, noting the lack of
grass in the pastures, looked into the building now and then with an
air of satisfaction because of the ample supply of food housed for
their especial benefit.
The broad fields, so lately beautified with waving grass, golden grain,
and nodding plumes of vegetables, were waiting for the mantle of snow
with which they were to be covered until spring should come again.
The yellow pumpkins, dotting the brown earth like nuggets of gold,
were all that remained uncared for among the varied fruits of Farmer
Shindle’s industry.
The barn-yard fowls were fat, and looked so contented that it seemed
certain they could have no forebodings of the Thanksgiving soon to
come, while the sheep were comparing their new wool coats as if proud
of the perfect-fitting garments.
In the roomy kitchen, whose well-scrubbed floor contrasted vividly
with the bright brick hearth, were festoons of apples threaded on
strings, like a Christmas-tree’s pop-corn ornaments, and hung on
convenient pegs by the thrifty housewife, who bent solicitously over
the huge porcelain kettle wherein pumpkin rind was being converted into
imitation citron.
Everything about the farm, animate or inanimate, appeared to be aware
of winter’s approach; and none so plainly gave evidence of this fact as
did the heir of the Shindle estate, Master Josiah.
He was concluding his share of the harvest labors by tying together
large bunches of herbs which were to be hung in the broad-beamed attic
to serve, at no distant day, either as pleasing condiments for the
table, or distasteful tea for Josiah when his stomach should rebel
against too heavy a burden.
He well knew the uses to which these herbs would be put, and treated
them correspondingly.
The sage and summer savory were fastened together with tender care, and
a far-away look of happy anticipation came into his eyes as he thought
of the Thanksgiving turkey; while the pennyroyal and thoroughwort were
bound up roughly and tightly, as if he wished to avenge himself in
advance on the disagreeable mixtures these herbs would form for his
especial benefit.
This was to be the last of his duties on the farm for several days; and
the most careless observer could have told, from his movements as well
as the expression on his face, that some very decided change was near
at hand.
Every few moments he ran to his room where a well-worn but serviceable
leather valise stood half-packed with a miscellaneous assortment of
wearing apparel and trinkets, and, after a hasty survey of the odd
collection, returned to his work, each time consulting with his mother
as to the possibility of a storm in the near future.
Three months previous Mr. Shindle had received as boarders from New
York, five beneficiaries of the Fresh Air Fund in the persons of the
Bartlett twins, their brother Tom, and Bob and little Jimmy Green.
These visitors, three of whom were too young to get into very much
mischief, had spent a week at the farm; six whole days of pleasure
unalloyed, save at certain intervals, and when they returned to their
homes it was with the distinct understanding that Josiah should
pay them a visit as soon after the harvesting was ended as might be
convenient.
Master Shindle’s parents had been parties to this agreement; and from
the time he bade farewell to Bob and Tom at the railroad station,
probably not a single day passed without his speaking of the promised
visit.
He had never seen anything larger in the way of a town than Berry’s
Corner, where he lived, and which comprised not more than twenty
buildings, including one store, a blacksmith’s shop, and the
post-office.
Josiah’s anticipations were probably more keen than if no obstacles had
arisen which threatened to prevent the long-promised visit.
A week previous Farmer Shindle discovered that there was a possibility
of his being unable to go to the city at the time set by his son,
because of business which called him in another direction; and for
several days it seemed as if Josiah would be obliged to defer the
journey.
The first arrangement was that his father should accompany him to New
York, and come after him at the expiration of a week; for neither Mr.
nor Mrs. Shindle believed their son could, with safety, travel so far
alone.
As a matter of course the boy’s disappointment was great; and, after
several long and grave consultations, it was decided that if a letter
could be received from either Master Bartlett or Master Green,
announcing a willingness to meet him at the station in Jersey City, he
should be allowed to go unattended.
Josiah himself carried the letter addressed to “Thomas Bartlett,
Baker’s Court, New York, N.Y.,” to the post-office; and during the
next three days the government employee at Berry’s Corner had a very
vivid idea of the responsibility of his position, for the Shindle
heir visited the office at least twice in every twenty-four hours,
intimating more than once that the important missive might have been
sent in the wrong direction, or mislaid at that point.
Undoubtedly the postmaster felt relieved when it was possible for him
to deliver the reply directed to Farmer Shindle in not particularly
graceful penmanship; and Josiah was in a fever of excitement until he
learned the contents.
Tom and Bob promised to be at the railroad station on the Jersey-City
side of the river, awaiting the arrival of the train which would leave
Berry’s Corner at eleven o’clock Monday forenoon; and they assured
the farmer and his wife, more forcibly than elegantly, that there was
not the slightest danger in allowing Master Shindle to travel alone,
because of the watchful care they would have over him at the terminus
of the journey.
Finally the day came, as all days will, whether they be for good or
evil, which had been set for Josiah’s departure.
At eight o’clock in the morning he had scrubbed his freckled face twice
in such a vigorous manner as threatened to rub off the skin, while his
tow-colored hair was combed into a painful state of exactness.
Josiah was forced to complete the labor of caring for the herbs, which
should have been performed on the Saturday previous; and after the
last bunch had been carried into the attic he was at liberty once more
to inspect his baggage with a view of again assuring himself that
everything was in its proper place.
“The first thing I do after meeting Tom and Bob will be to sell them
woodchuck skins,” he said to his mother, as he came from his chamber
arrayed in a new suit of clothes, and staggering under the weight of
the huge valise. “Towser has bit one pretty bad, an’ father says nobody
will be crazy enough to buy them; but Bob told me there were lots
of stores in New York where nothin’ but fur was kept, an’ of course
they’ll want woodchucks.”
“Don’t count too strongly on getting much money from that source,
Josiah,” his mother said mildly. “You have got three dollars, and that
ought to be enough to spend in one week.”
“So it will if I don’t have to pay too big a price for the presents I
want to get you and father.”
“Don’t bother about us, my son, but enjoy yourself, and we will be just
as glad to see you empty-handed when Saturday comes, as if you brought
half the things in the city. Give me your hand-kerchief so I can tie
the money in one corner. Father’s going to pay for the railroad-ticket,
and you won’t have any use for it until you get to New York.”
Josiah had no intention of carrying his wealth in the manner proposed,
for if Tom and Bob should see it in such a receptacle they would call
him “green.”
He had provided himself with the proper outfit at the expense of no
small amount of time, and several of his most cherished treasures, by
trading with one of the neighbor’s boys for an old calf-skin wallet
many sizes too large for himself or his money. There were two holes
in it; but by the judicious use of glue and a piece of one of the
woodchuck skins, he had repaired the damages until, in his eyes at
least, the ancient pocket-book was as good as new.
There were many pennies in Josiah’s hoard; and after these had been
placed in the well-worn calf-skin, and the whole stowed snugly in
the inside pocket of his coat, a stranger might have fancied he was
slightly deformed; but this, according to the young traveler’s ideas,
was rather a pleasing addition, since, if the true nature of the
protuberance was discovered, he would be looked upon as a capitalist.
For at least the tenth time Mrs. Shindle laid down rules governing his
conduct during the six days he was to be absent from the farm.
“Don’t run around in the grass and get your feet wet, unless you
change your stockings at once; and be sure to do exactly as Mrs.
Bartlett tells you. Don’t wade in the brooks; and you must not wear
Tom’s mother’s life out bringing home all sorts of wild animals, as
you do here. It is very well to have woodchucks, crows, and foxes in
the country; but in the city, where there is so much less room to move
around, it will be terribly unhandy.”
Josiah promised faithfully to heed these injunctions; and after giving
his boots one more coating of tallow, locking the unwieldy valise, and
drawing his coat over the huge pocket-book, he was ready to start for
the station.
As a matter of course, it was necessary to bid adieu to the pet calf,
who was so well acquainted with the entire family that he did not
hesitate about entering the house whenever the doors were left open;
and, strange as it may seem, the animal exhibited no signs of grief at
his master’s departure.
He butted his head against Josiah’s stomach, intimating that he was
ready for another pail of milk; but the boy did not think it advisable
to run the risk of soiling his clothes; therefore, kissing the
demonstrative calf directly between the eyes, he clambered into the
wagon, which was drawn up in front of the kitchen door.
Then he leaned down from the lofty perch to kiss his mother, as
she once more repeated the well-meant advice; and, by an earnest
application of the whip, the fat horses were started down the lane,
while Towser ran on ahead, barking and wagging his short tail, ignorant
of the fact that his master was about to undertake so long and
seemingly dangerous a journey.
When the farm-house was shut out from view as the wagon turned into the
highway, a very large and uncomfortable lump came into Josiah’s throat;
and, despite the past three months’ anticipations, he began to feel
sorry such a visit had ever been contemplated.
Of course he wanted to see New York, and meet Tom and Bob, as well
as the twins and Jimmy; but this leaving his mother was by no means
pleasant, and it is probable he would have turned back then and there,
if he could have done so without absolutely saying he was homesick,
even before the farm was lost to view.
Every yard of distance traversed caused the lump in the traveler’s
throat to grow larger, and he was forced to shut his teeth tightly to
prevent a veritable sob from escaping.
He realized now more fully than ever before what a good friend a
fellow’s mother is.
He was ashamed to let his father know the state of his feelings, and on
arriving at the station remained suspiciously silent.
The tears were too near his eyelids to permit of speech without giving
them an opportunity to flow, and he paid no attention to his best
clothes as he took Towser in his arms and kissed him again and again.
Every thump of the dog’s tail against his side seemed like a reproach
because he was willing to go away even for so short a time; and when,
with many a puff and hiss, the steaming engine brought the long train
of cars to a standstill, the traveler could not even bid his father
adieu.
“Be a good boy, Josiah; don’t get into mischief; and I’ll come for you
bright and early Saturday.”
Without replying, Josiah went quickly into the cars lest his tears
should be seen; and seating himself at the window he watched Towser,
who ran back and forth on the platform in the greatest anxiety because
his young master had disappeared from view.
This was not calculated to dispel the sorrow in the boy’s heart; and
when the train moved away, Towser following to the very borders of the
settlement, Josiah could control his feelings no longer.
Leaning his head on the window-frame, he gave full sway to grief; and
when the tears had ceased flowing sufficiently for him to look out once
more, there was no familiar object in sight.
Berry’s Corner was far away; and as he thought of this fact there might
have been another shower of tears if the newsboy had not thrown into
the seat a package of candy with, perhaps, the well-meant advice:--
“Better buy that, bub! Only ten cents, an’ a prize in every lot! It’ll
kinder keep your mind off the calves you’re leavin’ behind.”
This last remark may have been intended as a joke; but Josiah’s heart
was too sore to admit of his taking it as such, and he answered
indignantly:--
“If you ever owned a calf as good as mine, you’d be sorry to leave him.”
“Full-blooded Jersey, I suppose? Eighty to a hundred quarts of milk
when you fill the pail with water?” the boy said with a chuckle of
satisfaction, and then added impatiently, “Come, pay me for that candy!
I can’t stand here all day!”
Josiah was dimly conscious of the fact that he had not agreed to make
the purchase; but the boy’s tone was so peremptory that the huge
pocket-book was drawn forth with no slight difficulty, much to the
amusement of the candy vendor.
After this financial transaction was completed, and Josiah had opened
the package only to find the cheapest of brass pins as a prize, the
first attack of homesickness began to pass away.
He was angry because of having been cheated; and this fact, together
with the panorama which could be seen from the window, so diverted his
attention that, for the time being, he forgot both the calf and Towser.