Hope was not at breakfast with us.
'The child is worn out,' said Mrs Fuller. 'I shall keep her in bed a day
or two.
'Couldn't I see her a moment?' I enquired.
'Dear! no!' said she. 'The poor thing is in bed with a headache.' If
Hope had been ill at home I should have felt free to go and sit by her
as I had done more than once. It seemed a little severe to be shut away
from her now but Mrs Fuller's manner had fore-answered any appeal and I
held my peace. Having no children of her own she had assumed a sort of
proprietorship over Hope that was evident--that probably was why the
girl had ceased to love me and to write to me as of old. A troop of
mysteries came clear to me that morning. Through many gifts and favours
she had got my sweetheart in a sort of bondage and would make a marriage
of her own choosing if possible.
'Is there anything you would like particularly for your breakfast? Mrs
Fuller enquired.
'Hain't no way pertic'lar,' said Uncle Eb. 'I gen rally eat buckwheat
pancakes an' maple sugar with a good strong cup o'tea.
Mrs Fuller left the room a moment.
'Dunno but I'll go out to the barn a minnit 'n take a look at the
hosses,' he said when she came back.
'The stable is a mile away,' she replied smiling.
'Gran' good team ye druv us out with las' night,' he said. 'Hed a chance
t'look 'em over a leetle there at the door. The off hoss is puffed some
for'ard but if yer husband'll put on a cold bandage ev'ry night it'll
make them legs smoother n a hound's tooth.
She thanked him and invited us to look in at the conservatory.
'Where's yer husband?' Uncle Eb enquired.
'He's not up yet,' said she, 'I fear he did not sleep well.
'Now Mis Fuller,' said Uncle Eb, as we sat waiting, 'if there s anything
I can do t'help jes'le'me know what 'tis.
She said there was nothing. Presently Uncle Eb sneezed so powerfully
that it rattled the crystals on the chandelier and rang in the brass
medallions.
The first and second butlers came running in with a frightened look.
There was also a startled movement from somebody above stairs.
'I do sneeze powerful, sometimes,' said Uncle Eb from under his red
bandanna. ''S enough if scare anybody.'
They brought in our breakfast then--a great array of tempting dishes.
'Jest hev four pancakes 'n a biled egg,' said Uncle Eb as he sipped his
tea. 'Grand tea!' he added, 'strong enough if float a silver dollar too.
'Mrs Fuller,' I said rising, when we had finished, 'I thank you for your
hospitality, but as I shall have to work nights, probably, I must find
lodgings near the office.
'You must come and see us again,' she answered cordially. 'On Saturday
I shall take Hope away for a bit of rest to Saratoga probably--and from
there I shall take her to Hillsborough myself for a day or two.
'Thought she was goin' home with me,' said Uncle Eb.
'O dear no!' said Mrs Fuller, 'she cannot go now. The girl is ill and
it's such a long journey.'
The postman came then with a letter for Uncle Eb.
It was from David Brower. He would have to be gone a week or so buying
cattle and thought Uncle Eb had better come home as soon as convenient.
'They're lonesome,' he said, thoughtfully, after going over the letter
again. ''Tain't no wonder--they're gittin' old.'
Uncle Eb was older than either of them but he had not thought of that.
'Le's see; 's about eight o clock,' said he, presently. 'I've got t'go
an' ten' to some business o' my own. I'll be back here sometime if day
Mis Fuller an' I'll hev if see thet girl. Ye musn't never try if keep me
'way from her. She's sot on my knee too many year fer that--altogether
too many.
We arranged to meet there at four. Then a servant brought us our hats. I
heard Hope calling as we passed the stairway:
'Won't you come up a minute, Uncle Eb? I want to see you very much.'
Then Uncle Eb hurried upstairs and I came away.
I read the advertisements of board and lodging--a perplexing task for
one so ignorant of the town. After many calls I found a place to my
liking on Monkey Hill, near Printing House Square. Monkey Hill was the
east end of William Street, and not in the least fashionable. There were
some neat and cleanly looking houses on it of wood, and brick, and brown
stone inhabited by small tradesmen; a few shops, a big stable and the
chalet sitting on a broad, flat roof that covered a portion of the
stableyard. The yard itself was the summit of Monkey Hill. It lay
between two brick buildings and up the hill, from the walk, one looked
into the gloomy cavern of the stable and under the low roof, on one side
there were dump carts and old coaches in varying stages of infirmity.
There was an old iron shop, that stood flush with the sidewalk, flanking
the stableyard. A lantern and a mammoth key were suspended above the
door and hanging upon the side of the shop was a wooden stair ascending
to the chalet The latter had a sheathing of weather-worn clapboards.
It stood on the rear end of the brick building, communicating with the
front rooms above the shop. A little stair of five steps ascended from
the landing to its red door that overlooked an ample yard of roofing,
adorned with potted plants. The main room of the chalet where we ate our
meals and sat and talked, of an evening, had the look of a ship's
cabin. There were stationary seats along the wall covered with leathern
cushions. There were port and starboard lanterns and a big one of
polished brass that overhung the table. A ship's clock that had a noisy
and cheerful tick, was set in the wall. A narrow passage led to the
room in front and the latter had slanting sides. A big window of little
panes, in its further end, let in the light of William Street. Here I
found a home for myself, humble but quaint and cleanly. A thrifty German
who, having long followed the sea, had married and thrown out his
anchor for good and all, now dwelt in the chalet with his wife and two
boarders--both newspaper men. The old shopkeeper in front, once a sailor
himself, had put the place in shipshape and leased it to them.
Mine host bore the name of Opper and was widely known as 'All Right'
Opper, from his habit of cheery approval. Everything and everybody were
'all right' to him so far as I could observe. If he were blessed or
damned he said 'all right. To be sure he took exceptions, on occasions,
but even then the affair ended with his inevitable verdict of 'all
right'. Every suggestion I made as to terms of payment and arrangement
of furniture was promptly stamped with this seal of approval.
I was comfortably settled and hard at work on my article by noon. At
four I went to meet Uncle Eb. Hope was still sick in bed and we came
away in a frame of mind that could hardly have been more miserable. I
tried to induce him to stay a night with me in my new quarters.
'I mus'n't,' he said cheerfully.' 'Fore long I'm comin' down ag'in but
I can't fool 'round no longer now. I'll jes'go n git my new clothes and
put fer the steamboat. Want ye t'go 'n see Hope tomorrow. She's comm up
with Mis Fuller next week. I'm goin' t' find out what's the matter uv
her then. Somethin's wrong somewhere. Dunno what 'tis. She's all upsot.
Poor girl! it had been almost as heavy a trial to her as to me' cutting
me off as she had done. Remembrances of my tender devotion to her, in
all the years between then and childhood, must have made her sore with
pity. I had already determined what I should do, and after Uncle Eb had
gone that evening I wrote her a long letter and asked her if I might not
still have some hope of her loving me. I begged her to let me know when
I might come and talk with her alone. With what eloquence I could bring
to bear I told her how my love had grown and laid hold of my life.
I finished my article that night and, in the morning, took it to Mr
Greeley. He was at his desk writing and at the same time giving orders
in a querulous tone to some workman who sat beside him. He did not
look up as he spoke. He wrote rapidly, his nose down so close to the
straggling, wet lines that I felt a fear of its touching them. I stood
by, waiting my opportunity. A full-bearded man in his shirt-sleeves came
hurriedly out of another room.
'Mr Greeley,' he said, halting at the elbow of the great editor.
'Yes, what is it?' the editor demanded nervously, his hand wobbling over
the white page, as rapidly as before, his eyes upon his work.
'Another man garrotted this morning on South Street.
'Better write a paragraph,' he said, his voice snapping with impatience
as he brushed the full page aside and began sowing his thoughts on
another. 'Warn our readers. Tell 'em to wear brass collars with spikes
in 'em till we get a new mayor.
The man went away laughing.
Mr Greeley threw down his pen, gathered his copy and handed it to the
workman who sat beside him.
'Proof ready at five!' he shouted as the man was going out of the room.
'Hello! Brower,' he said bending to his work again. 'Thought you'd blown
out the gas somewhere.
'Waiting until you reject this article,' I said.
He sent a boy for Mr Ottarson, the city editor. Meanwhile he had begun
to drive his pen across the broadsheets with tremendous energy.
Somehow it reminded me of a man ploughing black furrows behind a fast
walking team in a snow flurry. His mind was 'straddle the furrow' when
Mr Ottarson came in. There was a moment of silence in which the latter
stood scanning a page of the Herald he had brought with him.
'Ottarson!' said Mr Greeley, never slacking the pace of his busy hand,
as he held my manuscript in the other, 'read this. Tell me what you
think of it. If good, give him a show.
'The staff is full, Mr Greeley,' said the man of the city desk. His
words cut me with disappointment.
The editor of the Tribune halted his hand an instant, read the last
lines, scratching a word and underscoring another.
'Don't care!' he shrilled, as he went on writing. 'Used to slide
downhill with his father. If he's got brains we'll pay him eight dollars
a-week.
The city editor beckoned to me and I followed him into another room.
'If you will leave your address,' he said, 'I will let you hear from me
when we have read the article.
With the hasty confidence of youth I began to discount my future that
very day, ordering a full dress suit, of the best tailor, hat and shoes
to match and a complement of neck wear that would have done credit to
Beau Brummel. It gave me a start when I saw the bill would empty my
pocket of more than half its cash. But I had a stiff pace to follow, and
every reason to look my best.