CAPITOLA.
Her sex a page's dress belied,
Obscured her charms but could not hide.
--Scott.
"Please, sir, do you want your carpet-bag carried?" asked a voice near.
Old Hurricane looked around him with a puzzled air, for he thought that
a young girl had made this offer, so soft and clear were the notes of
the voice that spoke.
"It was I, sir! Here I am, at yours and everybody's service, sir!" said
the same voice.
And turning, Old Hurricane saw sitting astride a pile of boxes at the
corner store, a very ragged lad some thirteen years of age.
"Good gracious!" thought Old Hurricane, as he gazed upon the boy, "this
must be crown prince and heir apparent to the 'king of shreds and
patches!'"
"Well, old gent! you'll know me next time, that's certain," said the
lad, returning the look with interest.
It is probable Old Hurricane did not hear this irreverent speech, for he
continued to gaze with pity and dismay upon the ragamuffin before him.
He was a handsome boy, too, notwithstanding the deplorable state of his
wardrobe. Thick, clustering curls of jet-black hair fell in tangled
disorder around a forehead broad, white and smooth as that of a girl;
slender and quaintly arched black eyebrows played above a pair of
mischievous, dark-gray eyes that sparkled beneath the shade of long,
thick, black lashes; a little turned-up nose, and red, pouting lips
completed the character of a countenance full of fun, frolic, spirit and
courage.
"Well, governor, if you've looked long enough, maybe you'll take me into
service," said the lad, winking to a group of his fellow-newsboys that
had gathered at the corner.
"Dear! dear! dear! he looks as if he had never in his life seen soap and
water or a suit of whole clothes!" ejaculated the old gentleman, adding,
kindly: "Yes, I reckon I will give you the job, my son!"
"His son! Oh, crikey! do you hear that, fellows? His son? Oh, Lor'! my
governor's turned up at last. I'm his son! oh, gemini! But what did I
tell you! I always had a sort of impression that I must have had a
father in some former period of my life; and, behold, here he is! Who
knows but I might have had a mother also? But that isn't likely. Still,
I'll ask him. How's the old woman, sir?" said the newsboy, jumping off
the boxes and taking the carpet-bag in his hand.
"What are you talking about, you infatuated tatterdemalion? Come along!
If it weren't for pity I'd have you put in the pillory!" exclaimed Old
Hurricane, shaking his cane at the offender.
"Thanky, sir! I've not had a pillow under my head for a long time."
"Silence, ragamuffin!"
"Just so, sir! 'a dumb devil is better than a talking one!'" answered
the lad, demurely following his employer.
They went on some distance, Old Hurricane diligently reading the names
of the streets at the corners. Presently he stopped again, bewildered,
and after gazing around himself for a few minutes, said:
"Boy!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Do you know such a place as Rag Alley in Manillo Street?"
"Rag Alley, sir?"
"Yes; a sort of narrow, dark, musty place, with a row of old,
tumble-down tenements each side, where poor wretches live all huddled up
together, fifty in a house, eh? I was told I couldn't drive up it in a
carriage, so I had to walk. Do you know such a place?"
"Do I know such a place! Do I know Rag Alley? Oh, my eye! Oh, he! he!
he! he!"
"What are you laughing at now, you miscellaneous assortment of
variegated pieces?"
"Oh! oh, dear! I was laughing to think how well I knew Rag Alley!"
"Humph! you do look as if you were born and bred there."
"But, sir, I wasn't!"
"Humph! How did you get into life, then?"
"I don't know, governor, unless I was raked up from the gutter by some
old woman in the rag-picking line!" said the newsboy, demurely.
"Humph. I think that quite likely! But now, do you say that you know
where that alley is?"
"Oh, don't set me off again! Oh, he! he! he! Yes, sir, I know."
"Well, then, show me the way and don't be a fool!"
"I'd scorn to be it, sir. This is the way!" said the lad, taking the
lead.
They walked on several squares, and then the boy stopped, and pointing
down a cross-street, said:
"There, governor; there you are."
"There! Where? Why that's a handsome street!" said Old Hurricane, gazing
up in admiration at the opposite blocks of stately brown-stone mansions.
"That's it, hows'ever! That's Rag Alley. 'Tain't called Rag Alley now,
though! It's called Hifalutin Terrace! Them tenements you talk of were
pulled down more'n a year ago and these houses put up in their place,"
said the newsboy.
"Dear! dear! dear! what changes! And what became of the poor tenants?"
asked Old Hurricane, gazing in dismay at the inroads of improvement.
"The tenants? poor wretches! how do I know? Carted away, blown away,
thrown away, with the other rubbish. What became of the tenants?
"'Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea-ty!'
I heard that spouted at a school exhibition once, governor!" said the
lad, demurely.
"Humph! well, well well! the trace is lost! What shall I do?--put
advertisements in all the daily papers--apply at the chief police
office? Yes, I'll do both," muttered Old Hurricane to himself; then,
speaking out, he called:
"Boy!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Call me a cab!"
"Yes, sir!" And the lad was off like an arrow to do his bidding.
In a few moments the cab drove up. The newsboy, who was sitting beside
the driver, jumped down and said:
"Here it is, sir!"
"Thank you, my son; here is your fee," said Old Hurricane, putting a
silver dollar into the lad's hand.
"What! Lor', it can't be I but it is! He must have made a mistake! What
if he did, I don't care! Yes, I do, too! 'Honor bright!'" exclaimed the
newsboy, looking in wonder and desire and sore temptation upon the
largest piece of money he had ever touched in his life. "Governor!"
"Well, boy?" said the old gentleman, with his feet upon the steps of the
cab.
"You've been and done and gone and give me a whole dollar by mistake!"
"And why should you think it a mistake, you impertinent monkey?"
"Your honor didn't mean it?"
"Why not, you young rascal? Of course I did. Take it and be off with
you!" said Old Hurricane, beginning to ascend the steps.
"I'm a great mind to," said the newsboy, still gazing on the coin with
satisfaction and desire--"I'm a great mind to; but I won't! 'tain't
fair! Governor, I say!"
"What now, you troublesome fellow?"
"Do stop a minute! Don't tempt me too hard, 'cause, you see, I ain't
sure I could keep honest if I was tempted too hard."
"What do you mean now, you ridiculous little ape?"
"I mean I know you're from the country, and don't know no better, and I
mus'n't impose upon your ignorance."
"My ignorance, you impudent villain!" exclaimed the old man, with rising
wrath.
"Yes, governor; you hain't cut your eye-teeth yet! you hain't up to
snuff! you don't know nothing! Why, this is too much for toting a
carpet-bag a half a dozen squares; and it's very well you fell in with a
honest lad like me, that wouldn't impose on your innocence. Bless you,
the usual price isn't more'n a dime, or, if you're rich and generous, a
shillin'; but----"
"What the deuce do I care for the usual price, you--you--you perfect
prodigy of patches? There, for the Lord's sake, go get yourself a decent
suit of clothes! Drive on, cabman!" roared Old Hurricane, flinging an
eagle upon the sidewalk and rolling off in his cab.
"Poor dear, old gentleman! I wonder where his keeper is? How could he
have got loose? Maybe I'd better go and tell the police! But then I
don't know who he is, or where he's gone! But he is very crazy, and I'm
afraid he'll fling away every cent of his money before his friends can
catch him. I know what I'll do. I'll go to the stand and watch for the
cab to come back and ask the driver what he has done with the poor, dear
old fellow!" said the newsboy, picking up the gold coin and putting it
into his pocket. And then he started, but with an eye to business,
singing out:
"Herald! Triebune! Express! last account of the orful
accident--steamer," etc., etc., etc., selling his papers as he went on
to the cab-stand. He found the cabman already there. And to his anxious
inquiries as to the sanity of the old gentleman, that Jehu replied:
"Oh, bless your soul, crazy? No; no more'n you or I. He's a real nob--a
real Virginian, F. F. V., with money like the sands on the seashore!
Keep the tin, lad; he knowed what he was a-doin' on."
"Oh, it a'most scares me to have so much money!" exclaimed the boy, half
in delight, half in dismay; "but to-night I'll have a warm supper and
sleep in a bed once more! And to-morrow a new suit of clothes! So here
goes--Herald! Express!--full account--the horrible murder--Bell
Street--Ledgee-ee-ee," etc., etc., etc., crying his papers until he was
out of hearing.
Never in his life had the newsboy felt so prosperous and happy.