An Old Convert to Phrenology
About eleven o'clock the steamer stopped. A dense fog had sprung
up, which made it perilous to proceed. Ben, who was a novice in
traveling, got up to see what was the matter. He was on his way
back to the stateroom, when he encountered a strange figure. The
old lady was wandering about in dishabille, looking thoroughly
alarmed.
Recognizing Ben, she clutched his arm.
"What has happened?" she asked, in a hollow voice, "Is the ship
sinkin'?"
"No, ma'am," answered Ben. "We have only stopped on account of
the fog."
"Something may run into us," exclaimed the old lady. "Oh, dear!
I wish I had never left home."
"You'd better go back to bed," said Ben soothingly. "There's no
danger."
"No, I won't," said the old woman resolutely. "I'm not going to be
drowned in my bed. I'll stay here till mornin'."
And she plumped down into an armchair, where she looked like
an image of despair.
"Hadn't you better put on something more?" suggested Ben.
"You may get cold."
"I'll put on my shawl and bunnit," said the old lady. "I can't sleep
a wink. We shall be shipwrecked; I know we shall."
Whether the old lady kept her word, or not, Ben did not know.
When he entered the saloon the next morning she was already up
and dressed, looking haggard from want of sleep. Ben ascertained
that the boat had started again about five o'clock, and would
probably reach Fall River five or six hours late. This would make it
necessary to take breakfast on board.
He imparted the news to the old lady.
"It's a shame," she said indignantly. "They did it a purpose to make
us spend more money. I expected to eat breakfast at my son's house
in Boston."
"We shall not probably reach Boston till noon, I hear."
"Then suppose I'll have to buy somethin' to stay my stomach. It's
a shame. It costs a sight to travel."
"So it does," acquiesced Ben.
"They'd oughter give us our breakfast."
"I'm afraid they won't see it in that light."
The old lady went down to breakfast, and grudgingly paid out
twenty cents more for tea and toast. She was in hopes Ben
would get some meat and offer her a portion; but he, too, felt
the necessity of being economical, and ordered something less
expensive.
Prof. Crane attempted to renew his phrenological examinations,
but could only obtain two subjects.
"Shan't I examine your head?' he asked insinuatingly of the old lady.
"No, you shan't," she answered tartly. "I don't want you pawing
over me."
"Don't you want me to describe your character?"
"No, I don't. Like as not, you'd slander me."
"Oh, no, ma'am; I should only indicate, by an examination of your
bumps, your various tendencies and proclivities."
"I don't believe I've got any bumps."
"Oh, yes, you have. We all have them. I shall only ask you
twenty-five cents for an examination."
"I won't give it," said the old lady, resolutely clutching her purse,
as if she feared a violent effort to dispossess her of it. "I can't
afford it."
"It is a very small sum to pay for the knowledge of yourself."
"I guess I know myself better than you do," said the old lady,
nodding her head vigorously. Then, yielding to an impulse of
curiosity: "Say, mister, is it a pretty good business, examinin'
heads?"
"It ought to be," answered the professor, "if the world were
thoroughly alive to the importance of the noble science of
phrenology."
"I don't see what use it is."
"Let me tell you, then, ma'am. You have doubtless employed
servants that proved unworthy of your confidence."
The old lady assented.
"Now if you had employed a phrenologist to examine a
servant's head before engaging her, he would have told you at
once whether she was likely to prove honest and faithful, or
the reverse."
"You don't say!" exclaimed the old lady, beginning to be
impressed. "Well, that would be something, I declare. Now,
there's Mirandy Jones, used to work for me--I'm almost certain
she stole one of my best caps."
"To wear herself?" asked Ben demurely.
"No, she wanted it for her grandmother. I'm almost sure I saw
it on the old woman's head at the sewin' circle one afternoon.
Then, again, there was Susan Thompson. She was the laziest,
sleepiest gal I ever see. Why, one day I went into the kitchen,
and what do you think? There she stood, in the middle of the
floor, leanin' her head over her broom fast asleep."
"In both these cases phrenology would have enabled you to
understand their deficiencies, and saved you from hiring them."
Here a gentlemen whispered to Prof. Crane: "Offer to examine
the old woman's head for nothing. I will see you are paid."
The professor was not slow in taking the hint.
"Madam," said he, "as my time just now isn't particularly
valuable, I don't mind examining your head for nothing."
"Will you?" said the old lady. "Well, you're very polite and
oblegin'. You may, if you want to."
Prof. Crane understood that a joke was intended, and shaped
his remarks accordingly.
"This lady," he commenced, "is distinguished for her amiable
disposition." Here there was a smile visible on several faces,
which, luckily, the old lady didn't see. "At the same time, she
is always ready to stand up for her rights, and will not submit
to be imposed upon."
"You're right there, mister," interjected the old lady, "as my
son-in-law will testify. He tried to put upon me; but I soon
let him know that I knew what was right, and meant to have it.
"My subject has a good taste for music, and would have been
a superior performer if her talent had been cultivated. But her
practical views would hardly have permitted her to spend much
time in what is merely ornamental. She is a good housekeeper,
and I may venture to remark that she understands cooking
thoroughly."
The old lady--so potent is flattery--really began to look amiable.
"I wish old Miss Smith could hear you," she interrupted. "She's
a vain, conceited critter, and purtends she can cook better than I
can. If I couldn't make better pies that she had the last time the
sewin' circle met at her house, I'd give up cookin', that's all."
"You see, gentlemen and ladies," said the professor, looking about
him gravely, "how correct are the inductions of science. All that
I have said thus far has been confirmed by my subject, who surely
ought to know whether I am correct or not."
"This lady," he proceeded, "is fitted to shine in society. Her social
sphere may have been limited by circumstances; but had her lot
been cast in the shining circles of fashion, her natural grace and
refinement would have enabled her to embellish any position to
which she might have been called."
The contrast between the old lady's appearance and the words of
Prof. Crane was so ludicrous that Ben and several others with
difficulty, kept their countenances. But the old lady listened with
great complacency.
"I wish my granddarter would hear you," she said. "She's a pert
little thing, that thinks she knows more than her grandmother. I've
often told my darter she ought to be more strict with her; but it
don't do no good."
"It's the way with the young, madam. They cannot appreciate
the sterling qualities of their elders."
When the examination was concluded, the old lady expressed
her faith in phrenology.
"I never did believe in't before," she admitted, "but the man described
me just as if he know'd me all my life. Railly, it's wonderful."
Prof. Crane got his money, and with it the favor of the old lady
to whom he had given such a first-class character. Her only
regret was that her friends at home could not have heard him.
About one o'clock in the afternoon the long journey was at an
end, and Ben and his young charge descended from the train
in the South Terminal, in Boston.