THE STATE-HOUSE AND THE STEAMBOAT.
Mary Ogden had three dresses, one quite pretty, but none were of silk.
Aunt Melinda was always telling Mary what she ought not to wear at her
age, and with hair and eyes as dark as hers. Mary felt very proud,
therefore, when she saw on the table in her room the parcel containing
the black silk and trimmings.
"It must have been expensive," she said, and she unfolded it as if
afraid it would break.
"What will mother say?" she thought. "And Aunt Melinda! I'm too young
for it--I know I am!"
The whole Murdoch family arose early, and the editor, after looking at
the black silk, said that he felt pretty well.
"So you ought," said his wife. "You had more new subscribers yesterday
than you ever had before in your life in any one day."
"That makes me think," said Mr. Murdoch. "I owe Mary Ogden five
dollars--there it is--for getting out that number of the _Eagle_."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Mary. "I did that, and Jack did it, only because--"
He put the bank-note into her hand.
"I'd rather you'd take it," he said. "You'll never be a good editor
till you learn to work on a business basis."
As he insisted, she put the bill into her pocket-book, thanking him
gratefully.
"I had two dollars when I came," she thought, "and I haven't spent a
cent; but I may need something. Besides, I'll have to pay for making
up my new dress."
But she was wrong. Mrs. Murdoch went out to see a neighbor after
breakfast, and before noon it was certain that if seven old men of
Mertonville had paid for the silk, at least seven elderly women could
be found who were very willing to make it up.
About that time Jack was walking up to the door of the Senate Chamber,
in the Capitol, at Albany, after having astonished himself by long
walks and gazings through the halls and side passages.
"It's true enough," he said to himself. "The Governor's right. No
fellow could go through this and come out just as he came in."
He understood about the "twenty tons of pure gold" in the building, but
nevertheless he could not keep from looking all around after signs of
it.
"There's plenty of gilding," he said, "but it's very thin. It's all
finished, too. I don't see what more they could do, now the roof's on
and it's all painted. He must have been joking when he said that."
Jack roamed all over the Capitol, for the Legislature was not in
session, and the building was open to sight-seers. There were many of
them, and from visitors, workmen, and some boys whom he met, Jack
managed to find out many interesting things.
The Assembly Chamber seemed to him a truly wonderful room, and upon the
floor were several groups of people admiring it.
He saw one visitor seat himself in the Speaker's chair. "There's room
in that chair for two or three small men," said Jack; "I'll try it by
and by."
So he did.
"The Speaker was a boy once, too, and so was the Governor," he said to
himself aloud.
"Yes, my boy," said a lady, who was near enough to hear him; "so they
were. So were all the presidents, and some went barefoot and lived in
log-cabins."
"Well, I've often gone barefoot," said Jack, laughing.
"Many boys go barefoot, but they can't all become governors," she said,
pleasantly.
She looked at Jack for a moment, and then said with a smile, "You look
like a bright young man, though. Do you suppose you could ever be
Governor?"
"Perhaps I could," he said. "It can't be harder to learn than any
other business."
The lady laughed, and her friends laughed, and Jack arose from the
Speaker's chair and walked away.
He had seen enough of that vast State House. It wearied him, there was
so much of it, and it was so fine.
"To build this house cost twenty tons of gold!" he said, as he went out
through the lofty doorway. "I wish I had some of it. I've kept my
nine dollars yet, anyway. The Governor's right. I don't know what he
meant, but I'll never be just the same fellow again."
It was so. But it was not merely seeing the Capitol that had changed
him. He was changing from a boy who had never seen anything outside of
Crofield and Mertonville, into a boy who was walking right out into the
world to learn what is in it.
"I'll go to the hotel and write to father and mother," he said; "and I
have something to tell them."
It was the first real letter he had ever written, and it seemed a great
thing to do--ten times more important than writing a composition, and
almost equal to editing the _Eagle_.
"I'll just put in everything," he thought, "just as it came along, and
they'll know what I've been doing."
It took a long time to write the letter, but it was done at last, and
when he put down his pen he exclaimed:
"Hard work always makes me hungry! I wonder if it isn't dinner-time?
They said it was always dinner-time here after twelve o'clock. I'll go
see." It was long after twelve when he went down to the office to
stamp and mail his letter.
"Mr. Ogden," said the clerk, giving Jack an envelope, "here's a note
from Mr. Magruder. He left--"
"Ogden," said a deep, full voice just behind him, "didn't you stay
there too long? I am told you sat in the Speaker's chair."
Jack wheeled about, blushing crimson. The Governor was not standing
still, but was walking steadily through the office, surrounded by a
group of dignified men. It was necessary to walk with them in order to
reply to the question, and Jack did so.
"I sat there half a minute," he answered. "I hope it didn't hurt me."
"I'm glad you got out so soon, Jack," replied the Governor approvingly.
"But I heard also that you think of learning the Governor business,"
went on the great man. "Now, don't you do it. It is not large pay,
and you'd be out of work most of the time. Be a blacksmith, or a
carpenter, or a tailor, or a printer."
"Well, Governor," said Jack, "I was brought up a blacksmith; and I've
worked at carpentering, and printing too; and I've edited a newspaper;
but--"
There he was cut short by the laughter from those dignified men.
"Good-bye, Jack," said the Governor, shaking hands with him. "I hope
you'll have a good time in the city. You'll be sent back to the
Capitol some day, perhaps."
Jack returned to the clerk's counter to mail his letter, and found that
gentleman looking at him as if he wondered what sort of a boy he might
be.
[Illustration: _The hotel clerk looked at Jack_.]
"That young fellow knows all the politicians," said the clerk to one of
the hotel proprietors. "He can't be so countrified as he looks."
After dinner, Jack returned to his room for a long look at the
guide-book. He went through it rapidly to the last leaf, and then
threw it down, remarking:
"I never was so tired! I'll take a walk around and see Albany a little
more; and I'll not be sorry when the boat goes. I'd like to see Mary
and the rest for an hour or two. I think they'd like to see me coming
in, too."
Jack sauntered on through street after street, getting a clearer idea
of what a city was.
He walked so far that he had some difficulty in returning to the hotel,
but finally he found it without asking directions.
Soon after, Jack brought down his satchel, said good-bye to the very
polite clerk, and walked out.
He had learned the way to the steamboat-wharf; and he had already taken
one brief look at the river and the railway bridge.
"There's the 'Columbia,'" he said, aloud, as he turned a street corner
and came in sight of her. "What a boat! Why, if her nose was at the
Main Street corner, by the Washington Hotel, her rudder would be
half-way across the Cocahutchie!"
He walked the wharf, staring at her from end to end, before he went on
board. He had put Mr. Magruder's note into his pocket without reading
it.
"I won't open it here," he had said then. "There's nothing in it but a
ticket."
He found, however, that he must show the ticket at the gangway, and so
he opened the envelope.
"Three tickets?" he said. "And two are in one piece. This one is for
a stateroom. That's the bunk I'm to sleep in. Hulloo! Supper ticket!
I have supper on board the steamer, do I? Well, I'm not sorry. I'll
have to hurry, too. It's about time for her to start."
Jack went on board, and soon was hunting for his stateroom, almost
bewildered by the rushing crowd in the great saloon.
He had his key, and knew the number, but it seemed that there were
about a thousand of the little doors.
"One hundred and seventy-six is mine," he said; "and I'm going to put
away my satchel and go on deck and see the river. Here it is at last.
Why, it's a kind of little bedroom! It's as good as a floating hotel.
Now I'm all right."
Suddenly he was aware, with a great thrill of pleasure, that the
Columbia was in motion. He left his satchel in a corner, locked the
door of the stateroom behind him, and set out to find his way to the
deck. He went down-stairs and up-stairs, ran against people, and was
run against by them; and it occurred to him that all the passengers
were hunting for something they could not find.
"Looking for staterooms, I guess," he remarked aloud; but he himself
should not have been staring behind him, for at that moment he felt the
whack of a collision, and a pair of heavy arms grasped him.
"What you looks vor yourself, poy? You knocks my breath out! You find
somebody you looks vor--eh?"
The tremendous man who held him was not tall, but very heavy, and had a
broad face and long black beard and shaggy gray eyebrows.
"Beg pardon!" exclaimed Jack, with a glance at a lady holding one of
the man's long arms, and at two other ladies following them.
"You vas got your stateroom?" asked his round-faced captor
good-humoredly.
"Oh, yes!" said Jack. "I've got one."
"You haf luck. Dell you vot, poy, it ees a beeg schvindle. Dey say
'passage feefty cent,' und you comes aboard, und you find it is choost
so. Dot's von passage. Den it ees von dollar more to go in to supper,
und von dollar to eat some tings, und von dollar to come out of supper,
und some more dollars to go to sleep, und maybe dey sharges you more
dollars to vake up in de morning. Dot is not all. Dey haf no more
shtateroom left, und ve all got to zeet up all night. Eh? How you
like dot, poy?"
Jack replied as politely as he knew how:
"Oh, you will find a stateroom. They can't be full."
"Dey _ees_ full. Dey ees more as full. Dere vill be no room to sleep
on de floor, und ve haf to shtand oop all night. How you likes dot,
eh?"
The ladies looked genuinely distressed, and said a number of things to
each other in some tongue that Jack did not understand. He had been
proud enough of his stateroom up to that moment, but he felt his heart
melting. Besides, he had intended to sit up a long while to see the
river.
"I can fix it," he suddenly exclaimed. "Let the ladies take my
stateroom. It's big enough."
"Poy!" said the German solemnly, "dot is vot you run into my arms for.
My name is Guilderaufenberg. Dis lady ees Mrs. Guilderaufenberg. Dis
ees Mees Hildebrand. She's Mees Poogmistchgski, and she is a Bolish
lady vis my wife."
Jack caught all the names but the last, but he was not half sure about
that. He bowed to each.
"Come with me; I'll show you the room," he said. "Then I'm going out
on deck."
"Ve comes," said the wide German; and the three ladies all tried to
express their thanks at the same time, as Jack led the way. Jack was
proud of his success in actually finding his own door again.
"I puts um all een," said Mr. Guilderaufenberg; "den I valks mit you on
deck. Dose vommens belifs you vas a fine poy. So you vas, ven I dells
de troof."
They all talked a great deal, and Jack managed to reduce the Polish
lady's name to Miss "Podgoomski," but he felt uneasily that he had left
out a part of it. Mrs. Guilderaufenberg and the others were loaded up
with more parcels and baggage than Jack had ever seen three women carry.
"Dey dakes care of dot shtateroom," said his friend. "Ve goes on deck.
I bitty anypoddy vot dries to get dot shtateroom avay from Mrs.
Guilderaufenberg and Mees Hildebrand and Mees Pod----ski;" but again
Jack had failed to hear that Polish lady's name.