INTRODUCES THE EVANGELIST.
That night was a memorable one for Ben. It is not often that a man
lies down to sleep, in full sight and hearing of three hundred of
his fellow mortals; not to mention three hundred with such peculiar
characteristics as separate the genus tramp from the rest of God's
creation.
Ben reclined on a hand and elbow, wide awake, listening to the various
noises proceeding from the sleepers. Snores, grunts, exclamations,
curses, prayer, laughter and writhing proceeded from the bodies
laboring under Dame Nature's mild anæsthetic. While so listening, a
tall, thin figure approached him. It was a pale, long-faced young man,
who had an air of dilapidated gentility about him, that was in unison
with his intelligent, but care-worn, face. Noticing Ben's wakefulness,
he said:
"I see that you, like myself, cannot sleep. What a pen of human swine
it is!" and he seated himself beside our friend.
"Which way are you travelling?" asked Ben.
"I go west in the morning. Which direction are you taking?"
"I am going to St. Louis," answered Cleveland.
"Very well, we will go together. That suits me. I thought it would
be easiest to get on a coal fleet and go down the river with it, but
I find the fleet is hung up here for want of water, and there is no
telling when the river will raise. So we had best take the road for
it," observed the stranger.
"Have you ever been to St. Louis?" inquired Ben.
"Oh, yes," replied he, "several times."
"Tramped it?"
"Tramped it."
"But," hesitatingly suggested Ben, "you appear to be a man of
intelligence, I should think you could do better than leading the life
of a tramp."
"Think nothing of the sort," responded the stranger. "A man in this
world does just what he is fitted for. Habits, that I need not specify,
have drifted me into this life, and I am becoming confirmed in it."
"But do you not struggle against it."
"Yes, I _do_ struggle, but each struggle is weaker and weaker, and
shorter and shorter. You appear to be above the average tramp, and as
we are to travel together, I'll tell you some of my history without
asking any of your own in return. I had a fair education and studied
for the ministry. Until my mother died (and at mention of that sacred
name of mother his voice softened) I had something to live for, some
one to make proud of me. But on her death I was left alone in life,
and though homage comes from all the world, it can not give a mother's
praise. With a naturally unstable disposition I took to rambling, and I
have been rambling ever since."
"And do you never try to settle down; never attempt anything
permanent?" persisted Ben.
"Oh yes," returned the other with a laugh; "I have been reporter,
auctioneer, teamster, raftsman, railroader, clerk, stable-hand, and
Evangelist!"
"Evangelist!" exclaimed Cleveland.
"Yes," replied he, and immediately the "tramp" presented itself; "don't
you know the racket. Lots of the boys made a stake at it last year.
It's the Moody business gave them a starter. First they evangelized
themselves and then started out to evangelize others, with a weather
eye out for financial matters."
Ben was horrified! He had attended the Hippodrome meetings and been
greatly impressed with the work of the revivalists, and had never
connected a mercenary thought with them. This new development of using
revivals for money-making purposes grated harshly on his feelings, and
so he expressed himself.
"And why not?" asked the Evangelist. "People are willing to pay well
for being led to the devil, why should they not pay to be started on
the road to Heaven? It is singular that men should honor money-making
by all methods except the saving of their souls."
"But are the Evangelists engaged in money-making?" asked Ben.
"To an extent--certainly. Why not? It is dishonest? Look-a-here, why
don't you view this matter practically? What's the use of giving it a
fictitious reputation? Is it dishonest? No. Why should not men make
money in doing good as well as in doing evil? Oh why should there be
any attempt to disguise the matter? There is where the mistake is
made, for it gives to good works a taint of deception. Do you for a
moment suppose the world does not see under the cloak of a '_call_'
the greed of gain! Why not be open and above board and say, '_We_ do
this good for money'? Is honesty a crime? Indeed I half believe it
is. When I started as an Evangelist, I fixed a fair remuneration for
my services, and demanded it the same as I would wages for any other
work. What was the result. I was called mercenary, and people said I
not only laborized for the good of my fellow man, but for the good
of my pocket also. I was fool enough to acknowledge it, and shortly
found my services no longer in demand. Naturally I changed my tactics.
I no longer asked a stipulated remuneration. I was not after money.
But quietly determined that money should be after me. The result was
I received more in contributions than I ever could have obtained in
wages. Do you think people were not aware of my object just the same,
because I did not make a demand? Perhaps you will learn, as you journey
through life, that all the world wears a mask, and though the mask may
be transparent, it is highly impolitic to ask its removal. Humanity is
an ostrich, with its head in a sandbank!"
"Did you make it pay?" asked Ben.
"Oh, yes, it paid well enough."
"Why did you not stick to it then?"
The brows of the dilapidated cynic contracted as he responded:
"Because from a child I have been unable to stick to anything. There is
no permanency in me. I am as shifting as running water. There, there;
you need not ask why I do not school myself to more stable habits; as I
am, I _am_; and be it fault or misfortune, so it is."
Ben's mental eye looked upon his new acquaintance through a fog. He
could not understand him. At the same time the thought suggested
itself to him: "What a purposeless, objectless life! What if my own
should shape itself to such a result!" and then the more encouraging
reflection came to him: "Better a tramp, with a New Orleans to be
attained, than a Ben Cleveland dozing life away on Smythe's lawn."
His new acquaintance having relieved himself of an over load of
cynicism proved to be a pleasant conversationalist, and a well informed
man. He was apparently a harmless creature, placed on earth to fill up
one of the chinks in its great social structure.
The breakfast in the morning was a repetition of the previous evening's
supper, save that the soup had fewer odds and ends in it. Though Ben
had refused the article the night before he found himself eating
heartily of it at the breakfast table, greatly to the disappointment of
the thin man, who had purposely secured a seat next to him, with hopes
based on his good fortune at the supper table. Alas, they were delusive
ones. Ben cleaned out his pan, and felt substantially full.
In company with the Evangelist he made his way to the city of
Alleghany, on the opposite side of the river of that name, and there
the two had a council of war. It was finally agreed that they should
walk that day, and reach some point where a train could be boarded
during the evening. Accordingly they followed the track that borders
the Ohio, until within an hour of sunset, when they found themselves
near the town of Economy; a settlement of industrious Germans who are
trying so to live that the transition from life to death will be hardly
noticeable, save that it causes the reflection that for all intents
and purposes they might as well have been born dead. It is a communal
settlement, and propagation is unknown. By strict frugality, industry
and the natural growth of wealth much money has been amassed, and the
riches undoubtedly give them all the enjoyment of possession. One of
these days when the last Economist shall have departed for Eternity,
with his shekel done up in a napkin, there will be a delightful hubbub
over the ownership of the thousands they have accumulated.
Before reaching the settlement our travellers were met by a lone tramp,
on his way to New York City, for the purpose of viewing the abutments
of the East River bridge. He had heard and read so much about that
structure, while summering in the vicinity of St. Paul, that his
curiosity was aroused, and he thought to have a look at it.
"I have not come from Minnesota direct," he explained; "I went to
St. Louis to see the bridge Eads built so as I could compare the
two. I takes a great interest in public works, and more 'specially
engineering. Sometimes I think I'd a made a good bridge builder
myself, but I served my time in a bakery, and never had no inclination
for bread, 'cept to eat it." He might further have stated that being a
gentleman of impecunious leisure, and time not being money with him,
he had all the advantages necessary for indulging his penchant for
investigating public works.
"You're near Economy now," he continued, "and you can stop over night
with the 'brothers.' I'll tell you how you can do it. Old 'brother'
Rapp will meet you and he'll say 'no.' Then you just ask him to give
you a few matches, and when he asks what for, say it's to build a fire
and cook you something to eat and sleep by, and you'll see how quick
he'll ask you to come in and stop. So long." And the tourist again
resumed his way toward the East River bridge. Ben and his comrade had
no intention of remaining over night in Economy, however. They took
supper there though, being hospitably received and treated to plenty
of fresh coarse bread, cheese and smoked sausage, the latter so hard
that it would have made a dent in an oak plank. Politely thanking their
entertainers they resumed the track in the balmy dusk of evening,
listening to Nature's vesper hymn.
Along the roadway, and from swamp and pasture and woodland, came the
chorus of a million throats. The deep base of some old patriarchal
serenader heightened the treble of the noisy newts. Afar off the tinkle
of a cow bell floated softly over the hills; the rustling of dried
leaves; the snapping of a fallen bough: the owl's whoop from out his
hermit dell; the beetle's never changing drone; the call of katydid,
and the mournful notes of the whip-poor-will, all mingled in the
evening service; and the heart of Ben stopped to listen, and all the
sophistry, cynicism and doubtings that this world possesses, could not
at that moment have prevented him from thinking that this life is not
the be-all and the end-all, here; but that far, far beyond the star lit
girdle of earth there is another, a better, and a purer one.