DEAF AND DUMB.
'Tilda Jane sat down on a bench in the corner and took the dog on her
lap.
The fashionably dressed woman was speaking and gesticulating
earnestly in front of the man whose face was only a trifle less calm
and stony than that of Ruth Ann.
"I never heard of such a thing in my life--to take my sealskin coat
from me in the dead of winter. Now if it was summer, it wouldn't
be so bad. My nice coat that cost me four hundred and seventy-five
dollars."
The man listened stolidly.
"And you tell me your government orders you to take ladies' jackets
from them. It seems incredible!"
'Tilda Jane curiously scanned the garment under discussion. It
certainly was very handsome.
"It is incredible, madam. The government does not wish to deprive
ladies of their sealskin coats. It merely requires its custom
officials, of whom I am one, to enforce the law which has been made
to prevent the importation of sealskin coats free of duty."
"And have you taken many jackets?" sneered the woman.
The official gazed at her in frigid silence.
"I'll go right back to Toronto, where I live," she said, indignantly.
"I was going to buy my daughter's trousseau in New York, but I'll
spend every cent at home. That's the way we will make New York suffer
on account of your government being so hateful!" and she flounced
from the room. The man behind the table cast a leisurely glance over
the remaining occupants of the room. Then he addressed the dejected
boy and girl.
"Hello, you!--what's your name?"
"Thaddeus and Mary Lee," said the boy, mournfully.
"Brother and sister?"
"Man and wife," responded the boy, lugubriously.
The assistant inspector elevated his eyebrows.
"What ages?"
"Nineteen and seventeen," sighed the lad.
"Where are you going?"
"To Boston."
"What for?"
"To look for work."
"Got any money?"
"Two dollars and seventy cents."
"That all?"
"Yes, sir."
"What place do you come from?"
"Chickaminga, Quebec."
"You'll take the 8.15 A. M. train back to-morrow," said the man,
briefly. "Now, Deutscher," and he nodded to the German Jew.
The boy and girl left the room, hand in hand, with melancholy
clothing them like a garment, and 'Tilda Jane gazed after them with
wide-open eyes. Her attention, however, was soon distracted, for
the little Jew, the instant he was indicated, sprang from his seat,
extended both hands, and nimbly skipping over the floor between his
numerous bundles, overwhelmed the inspector with a flood of German.
The inspector leaned back in his chair and at last put up a hand with
a commanding, "Halt!"
The old man paused open-mouthed, and the inspector went on in German:
"You left your home, you crossed the sea, you wish to go to Portland
to relatives--so far, so good, but where are your papers?"
The old man broke into a second burst of eloquence.
"Your certificate," reiterated the inspector, "your writing from the
captain of the ship."
The old man shook his head sadly. He had no papers.
'Tilda Jane did not understand a word of what he was saying, but his
gestures were expressive, and she anxiously watched his interlocutor.
"Where did you land?" asked the inspector.
"In Halifax, Nova Scotia."
"From what ship?"
"_Das Veilchen._"
"Captain's name?"
"Strassburger."
"Your name?"
"Franz Veier."
"I'll telegraph him. That's all."
"And can I not go to my friends now--at once? They are waiting, they
are expecting. We have so much to say."
"No," said the inspector, and as the German burst out into groans and
lamentations, he waved him from the room.
When the door closed, and 'Tilda Jane felt that the cold and
scrutinising eyes of the inspector were fixed on her, she was
stricken with sudden dumbness. How these people had talked! She could
not in a month utter as much as they had said in a few minutes. The
result of their loquacity had been a seeming paralysis of her organs
of speech.
"What's your name, little girl?" said the official, with slight
geniality.
Her lips parted, but no sound came from them.
"_Sprechen Sie Deutsch?_" he asked, agreeably.
She shook her head, not from any knowledge of his meaning, but to
signify her disinclination for speech.
"_Parlez-vous français_?" he went on, patiently.
Her head again negatived this question, and he inquired in Spanish if
she knew that tongue.
The shaking of the head became mechanical, and as the inspector knew
seventeen languages, he addressed her successively in each one of
them.
After she had shaken her head at them all, he surveyed her a few
seconds in meditative silence. Then he began to talk on his fingers.
She was probably deaf and dumb.
'Tilda Jane joyfully uncurled her hands from the bundle on her lap.
This was a safe medium of conversation, for talking on the fingers
had been a favourite amusement of the orphans during silence hours;
and she would not be tempted to say too much, and betray the fact
that she was a runaway. Accordingly, she spelled out the information,
"I am an orphan."
"Where do you come from?" he asked her.
"A long ways off," her finger tips informed him.
"Name of place?"
"I can't tell you," she responded.
"Where are you going?" he inquired.
"To--" she hesitated about the spelling of Ciscasset, but got
something near enough to it for him to understand.
"Any relatives there?" he spelled on his fingers.
"No."
"Going to visit?'
"No."
"Have you any money?" he next asked her, and she politely and
speedily informed him that she had fifty cents.
"You must tell me where you come from," came next from him in
peremptory finger taps.
"No, sir," she replied, with spirited movements.
"Then you'll stay here till you do," he responded, and with a yawn he
rose, turned his back to her, and looked out of the window.
'Tilda Jane took up her dog, and slipped out of the room. She was
not frightened or sorry for the deception she had just practised.
It did not seem to her that it was deception. For the time being
she was deaf and dumb, and, far from being alarmed by her helpless
condition, she possessed the strong conviction that she would be
well taken care of. She had also ceased to worry about the board of
lady managers, and in her present comfortable, callous state of mind
she reflected that she might stay here a year, and they would never
think of looking for her in a railway station. She was lost to them,
and she gaily hummed a tune as she strolled to and fro on the big
wooden platform, watching the shunting engines, the busy custom-house
officers, and the station yard employees, who were cleaning, rubbing,
scouring, and preparing cars for further journeys.
At twelve o'clock, just as she was beginning to stifle yawns, and
gaze wistfully at the windows of the dining-room, a young girl in a
white apron came and stood in the doorway, and, shading her eyes from
the sun shining in such dazzling brightness on the snow, beckoned
vigorously to 'Tilda Jane.
The little girl needed no second invitation, and, with her dog
limping behind her, trotted nimbly toward her new friend.
"Poor little soul--she's deef and dumb," said the dining-room girl,
compassionately, as she passed a group of men in the hall. "Ain't it
a pity?"
'Tilda Jane did not speak or smile, nor did her conscience, often
so troublesomely sensitive, now give one reproving twinge. Since
talking to the inspector she felt as if deaf and dumb. She had been
officially proclaimed so, and in meek patience she seated herself
at the table, calmly pointed to what she wished, and, being most
tenderly and assiduously waited upon by the pitying girl, ate a large
and excellent dinner.
At the orphan asylum there had never been fare such as this, and,
after she had finished her chocolate pudding, and put in her pocket a
juicy orange that she could not possibly eat, she bowed her head, and
internally and thankfully repeated the orphanage grace after meat.
"Just look at her!" exclaimed the admiring girl. "Ain't she cute?
What kind of folks must she have to let such a poor little innocent
travel alone? I don't believe she's obstinate. That assistant
inspector is as hateful as he can be. Come, sissy, and I'll show you
to your room," and she approached 'Tilda Jane, and took her by the
hand.
The latter pointed to her dog, and not until she had seen him satisfy
the demands of his appetite, would she consent to follow her guide
to a neat little apartment in the top of the wooden hotel.
Upon arriving there, she thanked the girl by a smile, closed the
door, and, throwing herself on her bed, was soon buried in sweet and
wholesome slumber.