THE MUSEUM.
When Josiah awakened next morning, his first thought was that his stay
had nearly come to an end.
It was Friday; and on the following day his father would arrive to take
him home,--a fact which gave him no slight amount of satisfaction.
His visit to the city had been very pleasant, but at the same time
he was beginning to think the Shindle farm a more desirable place of
residence than any he had seen since leaving Berry’s Corner.
Then, again, the state of his finances was such as to render it
necessary for him to return very soon, unless he was willing to remain
without sufficient money to pay his share of the expenses.
The cash expended for tickets from Coney Island had depleted his funds
to an alarming and unexpected extent.
He regretted having promised Sadie she should visit the dime museum
on the Bowery; but it did not seem as if he could well withdraw the
invitation, once it had been given.
“It’ll take all the money I’ve got,” he said to himself, “for of course
Tom an’ Bob will have to go; but it’s no use cryin’ over spilled milk,
an’ I’m goin’ to finish up in the right kind of style, even if I don’t
carry anything home to father an’ mother.”
Just then Bob awakened, and, as if able to read what was troubling
Josiah, asked:--
“How much did you have to pay out last night to get home?”
“I don’t exactly know. What’s the matter?”
“We want to give it back to you, of course.”
“You won’t do anything of the kind. I guess I can afford to stand that
much; an’ I oughter paid a good deal more, after takin’ Sadie, an’
makin’ such a crowd when she wasn’t one of your friends.”
“But we’re goin’ to give it back all the same. That was our time, an’
we allow to pay the bills.”
Josiah protested he would not permit them to refund a single penny of
the money; but Bob insisted, and Tom, who awakened very soon after the
conversation began, joined his brother merchant so emphatically in the
argument, that Master Shindle could not refuse.
“Here’s what it costs for two to come up from Coney Island,” Bob
finally said, as he dropped the amount into Josiah’s hand, “and you’ve
got to take it.”
“I’ll tell you how we’ll fix it,” Josiah replied after a short pause.
“I was countin’ on takin’ you fellers an’ Sadie up to that dime museum,
an’ we’ll use this money for the fares.”
“When are you goin’?” Tom asked.
“Any time you say.”
“Then we’d better wait till near noon, ’cause they have a regular show
there, an’ we don’t want to go in before it begins. S’posen Tom an’
me go down town a while after breakfast, an’ you stay with Sadie? We
oughter look out for our business a little, an’, besides, I’d like to
hear what Bill Foss has got to say for himself this mornin’.”
Josiah was perfectly willing to be left behind, for he had traveled
around the city so much that he was thoroughly tired; and as soon as
breakfast had been eaten, the young merchants set out, while Josiah
walked leisurely toward Mother Hunter’s with the match-girl, who
thought it safest to explain, as soon as possible, the cause of her
absence during the previous night, lest the old woman should be angry.
On this occasion Josiah did not go into the house. Sadie believed it
might be better for him to wait on the outside until she concluded the
business; and on her return, after an absence of not more than five
minutes, he asked:--
“What did she say?”
“Not very much; ’cause I told her I wouldn’t stay with her another day
when I saw she was startin’ to get into a tantrum, an’ that kind of
stopped her. Oh, dear,” she added with a long-drawn sigh, “it must be
nice to have a home like real folks, same’s as Tom an’ Bob have got.
They tell me yours beats theirs all out an’ out.”
“Well, I think myself it’s pleasanter,” Josiah replied, not wishing
to say anything disparaging of his friends’ home, and yet eager that
the Shindle Farm should be given all the praise it deserved. “You
see, there’s more room in the country, an’ folks ain’t packed so close
together, besides, a feller can do what he wants to without bein’
afraid of gettin’ lost.”
“I’d like to see the country once, the grass, an’ the cows, an’ the
butter, an’ milk.”
“Perhaps you will, sooner’n you think for,” Josiah began, and then
checked himself as if suddenly remembering he was saying too much
regarding that which had occupied a prominent place in his thoughts
during the past two or three days.
Sadie made no attempt to do any business on this morning, explaining
that she could work all the better after they had been to the museum;
and the two went to Baker’s Court to wait the coming of Tom and Bob.
To Sadie’s delight the young gentlemen did not arrive until dinner
was ready, consequently she had another “square meal,” as she
confidentially told Josiah.
“I didn’t really mean to hang ’round for somethin’ to eat,” she
explained; “but so long’s we’d got to wait here for ’em, I was glad
they staid away till noon. After you’ve gone home I expect there’ll be
a good many times when I’ll remember what we ate in the restaurant down
to Coney Island, which I wouldn’t have got if you hadn’t come to the
city, an’ let that stand for a meal.”
“Are you goin’ to sell matches all winter?”
“I’ll have to; for there’s nothin’ else I can do.”
“But you’ll freeze to death on the streets when it comes cold.”
“It won’t be quite so bad as that, ’cause a feller can move ’round an’
go into the stores once in a while, to stand over the registers till
they drive you out. It’s worse at night when you can’t get in anywhere.”
This conversation was interrupted by the young newsdealers, who
insisted the party should start at once for the museum, in order to be
back sufficiently early to join their business acquaintances who were
to give the feast in honor of Josiah.
“Is Bill Foss goin’ to be there?” Josiah asked, probably thinking that
in such a case there was every chance the pleasure would be sadly
curtailed.
“Yes; but you needn’t fuss ’bout it,” Bob replied promptly. “I reckon
he’s feelin’ kinder ’shamed of hisself ’cause of the way he acted
yesterday, an’ there won’t be any trouble. Bill’s a decent sort of a
feller; but you see it mixed him all up to have a girl along. He allers
counts on goin’ ahead in everything, an’ was ’fraid somebody’d see him
there with Sadie. He knows pretty nigh every one of the folks in this
town.”
“Bill wasn’t scared ’bout bein’ seen with me last week, when he wanted
to borrow ten cents,” the match-girl retorted quite sharply.
“Did you lend it to him?” Tom asked quickly.
“I didn’t have it, else I should; but since I’ve been livin’ with
Mother Hunter there ain’t any chance to get that much money ahead,
’cause she’s allers ’round by the time I’ve earned a nickle. I spoke
’bout it to show he wasn’t frightened of me then.”
“Now don’t get riled,” Bob said soothingly. “You know jest as well as
we do, Sadie, that a feller like Bill wouldn’t want to have it told
’round the city that he’d been swellin’ down to Coney Island with a
girl, and I can’t blame him.”
“It doesn’t seem to hurt Josiah very much.”
“It’s different with him; he don’t live here.”
“Then I think it would be a good idea for Bill to stop out in the
country awhile,” Sadie replied; and the boy from Berry’s Corner,
fearing lest she might lose her temper, proposed, as the best means of
putting an end to the conversation, that they go to the museum at once.
Now, as a matter of fact, neither Bob nor Tom cared to be seen with
Sadie, lest some of their friends should accuse them of a desire to
“stick ’round where the girls were;” but they were very careful not to
let her fancy that such might be the case.
Inasmuch as she and Josiah started on ahead, they could walk a short
distance in the rear without seeming to belong to the party, and
neither was disposed to approach too near until they had arrived at the
door of the museum.
It is only proper to say, in defence of the position which the boys
assumed in the matter, that they had no idea of its being unmanly to
talk with the little match-girl, or to be seen in her company; but it
was the fear that their brother merchants might make sport of them,
which prevented the same amount of familiarity being displayed as when
they were at Coney Island.
It seemed as if Sadie would never tire of hearing Josiah tell about his
home in the country; and while they were walking up the Bowery, when he
would much have preferred looking in at the shop windows, she was so
persistent in her questions, that all his time was occupied in giving
the desired information.
She knew, quite as well as did Tom and Bob, where this particular
museum which they proposed to visit was located; therefore it was
not necessary for the young gentlemen from Baker’s Court to give any
instructions as to the course which should be pursued.
“Here’s the place,” she said as they halted in front of a broad
door-way half-filled with gaudy posters and photographs; “an’ after you
see this one, you won’t think the other show ’mounts to very much. Bill
Foss has been here more’n ten times, an’ says it’s perfectly gorgeous.”
Josiah made haste to purchase the tickets of admission, lest he should
miss some of the wonderful sights because of lack of time, and then
ushered his friends into what seemed like a place of enchantment.
On entering the main hall the first object which attracted his
attention was the fat lady; and he went directly up to her, regardless
of what his friends were doing.
Bob and Tom had stopped to look at some of the other attractions;
but Sadie kept very close to the boy from Berry’s Corner, for, since
through him she had enjoyed herself as never before, it was but natural
she should consider him a particular friend.
“She’s awful big, ain’t she?” Josiah said in what he intended should
be a whisper; but the lady referred to had no difficulty in hearing
the words, and smiled in a fat way upon the young visitor, in token of
appreciation.
“Yes she is, an’ I do wonder how she can get ’round the streets. Ain’t
her dress perfectly splendid? Do you s’pose that lace is real gold?”
“I reckon so; folks as big as she is must make a power of money showin’
theirselves.”
Again the fat lady smiled, and adjusted her red-silk robe, the skirt of
which came nearly to the top of a pair of silvered boots, in order that
the visitors might see the fabric more clearly.
“She’s bigger’n that woman down on Chatham Square,” Sadie suggested;
but in this Josiah could not agree with her.
“I don’t think so,” he said as he viewed the mountain of flesh
critically; and, from some unexplained cause, the great woman began to
frown. “I oughter know somethin’ ’bout such things, ’cause last fall I
guessed within four pounds on the weight of Deacon Parson’s hog, an’
that was two pounds nearer than anybody else could come. She’s a good
bit smaller than that other woman.”
“Little boy, are you talking about Madame Fragile, who is exhibiting
on Chatham Square?” the fat lady asked, inclining her gigantic head as
near Josiah as the pillow-like shoulders would permit.
The boy from Berry’s Corner was so surprised at hearing her speak, that
it was impossible to make any answer; and not until the question had
been repeated, did even Sadie venture to reply, when she said:--
“Yes’m, I guess that’s the one we mean; she’s in the Palace of Wonders
down there.”
“Then don’t make any mistake about the size, for I am nearly ten pounds
heavier than she is, and three-quarters of an inch larger around the
waist. She isn’t such a wonderful fat woman, and it has been conceded
by the best judges in the country that I am one of the greatest marvels
of the age.”
Then the lady balanced her head squarely on her shoulders once more,
gave an extra flirt to the short skirt in order to display the
embroidery to better advantage, and Josiah was awed.
That he had incurred the anger of such an enormous woman was very sad,
or, at least, he thought so; and his sorrow at having ventured an
opinion was increased when he saw her talking, as if on terms of the
greatest intimacy, with the giant.
Sadie understood that her friend was ill at ease; and she led him to
the platform occupied by the Circassian beauty, where he soon forgot
the injury to his feelings as he gazed in wonder and surprise at the
pink eyes and white hair of the alleged lovely “Zerlina.”
This time he was careful to make his comments in a tone so low that
the object of them could not by any possibility hear the words; but
he would have been treated with greater consideration had he spoken
plainly, since for her he had nothing but praise.
“Say, we mustn’t hang ’round here too long,” Bob said decidedly, as he
and Tom approached after having taken a hasty survey of all the marvels
in the room, “’cause the show will begin pretty soon, an’ we won’t get
any kind of seats if we don’t hurry.”
“But I haven’t looked at half the things here,” Josiah replied. “How’d
you finish so soon?”
“Oh, we’ve seen sich stuff so many times that there ain’t much fun in
it.”
“I’d rather have a good look at what’s here than to see a show like you
took me to the other evenin’.”
“But this’ll be different, ’cause there’s singin’ an’ dancin’, an’ all
that sort of thing.”
“It’ll be more’n an hour before I’d want to leave here.”
“The show’ll be done by that time,” Bob said in a tone of
disappointment.
“Why don’t you two go in, an’ leave Josiah an’ me here?” Sadie asked.
“I’ll take care he ain’t lost; an’ if we can’t get through in time to
see what’s on the stage, we’ll meet you outside.”
“That’s a good idea,” Tom said approvingly; “but you mustn’t stay too
long, ’cause the fellers’ll be waitin’ for us to go over to the dinner.”
“We’ll be through as soon as you are,” the match-girl said decidedly;
and, satisfied that there would be no delay, Tom and Bob hurried away.
“Now take just as much time as you want to see everything,” Sadie said
when the boys had left them. “They rush right through without lookin’
at half the things.”
“Why can’t they come here after the show is over?”
“’Cause when you go down them stairs, there’s no chance to get back.
You see, if it wasn’t so, folks could stay in here the whole day
without payin’ but once.”
Satisfied that he would not be interrupted, Josiah enjoyed himself
thoroughly, looking at the many odd things; but he took good care not
to go very near the platform on which was seated the fat lady, lest she
might have some more remarks to make about a boy who could not guess
nearer a lady’s weight than to suppose she was less of a curiosity than
Madame Fragile.
He gave no heed to the flight of time; and when Sadie suggested that
their friends might be waiting, he felt quite certain no more than half
an hour had elapsed since Tom and Bob left them.
“I know it’s been longer,” the match-girl replied, “’cause the doors
are open for another show, an’ that wouldn’t be done if the first one
hadn’t been finished.”
“I guess it’s the same crowd that was goin’ in a while ago,” Josiah
replied carelessly; and just then it was possible to hear, above the
noise of the street, a series of yells which apparently came from the
foot of the staircase by which they had entered this portion of the
building.
“That’s them, an’ they’ll be awful mad if we don’t go right down,”
Sadie whispered as she pulled her companion toward the door.
“Josiah! Josiah-ah-ah-ah!”
There was no mistaking the name, nor the voice which uttered it; and
the boy from Berry’s Corner made all haste to reach the street, for the
call was so imperative that he felt positive some accident had befallen
one of his friends.