CHAPTER XXVII.

It was a hard blow to poor Sellers to see the work on his darling

enterprise stop, and the noise and bustle and confusion that had been

such refreshment to his soul, sicken and die out. It was hard to come

down to humdrum ordinary life again after being a General Superintendent

and the most conspicuous man in the community. It was sad to see his

name disappear from the newspapers; sadder still to see it resurrected at

intervals, shorn of its aforetime gaudy gear of compliments and clothed

on with rhetorical tar and feathers.

But his friends suffered more on his account than he did. He was a cork

that could not be kept under the water many moments at a time.

He had to bolster up his wife's spirits every now and then. On one of

these occasions he said:

"It's all right, my dear, all right; it will all come right in a little

while. There's $200,000 coming, and that will set things booming again:

Harry seems to be having some difficulty, but that's to be expected--you

can't move these big operations to the tune of Fisher's Hornpipe, you

know. But Harry will get it started along presently, and then you'll

see! I expect the news every day now."

"But Beriah, you've been expecting it every day, all along, haven't you?"

"Well, yes; yes--I don't know but I have. But anyway, the longer it's

delayed, the nearer it grows to the time when it will start--same as

every day you live brings you nearer to--nearer--"

"The grave?"

"Well, no--not that exactly; but you can't understand these things, Polly

dear--women haven't much head for business, you know. You make yourself

perfectly comfortable, old lady, and you'll see how we'll trot this right

along. Why bless you, let the appropriation lag, if it wants to--that's

no great matter--there's a bigger thing than that."

"Bigger than $200,000, Beriah?"

"Bigger, child?--why, what's $200,000? Pocket money! Mere pocket money!

Look at the railroad! Did you forget the railroad? It ain't many months

till spring; it will be coming right along, and the railroad swimming

right along behind it. Where'll it be by the middle of summer? Just

stop and fancy a moment--just think a little--don't anything suggest

itself? Bless your heart, you dear women live right in the present all

the time--but a man, why a man lives----

"In the future, Beriah? But don't we live in the future most too much,

Beriah? We do somehow seem to manage to live on next year's crop of corn

and potatoes as a general thing while this year is still dragging along,

but sometimes it's not a robust diet,--Beriah. But don't look that way,

dear--don't mind what I say. I don't mean to fret, I don't mean to

worry; and I don't, once a month, do I, dear? But when I get a little

low and feel bad, I get a bit troubled and worrisome, but it don't mean

anything in the world. It passes right away. I know you're doing all

you can, and I don't want to seem repining and ungrateful--for I'm not,

Beriah--you know I'm not, don't you?"

"Lord bless you, child, I know you are the very best little woman that

ever lived--that ever lived on the whole face of the Earth! And I know

that I would be a dog not to work for you and think for you and scheme

for you with all my might. And I'll bring things all right yet, honey

--cheer up and don't you fear. The railroad----"

"Oh, I had forgotten the railroad, dear, but when a body gets blue, a

body forgets everything. Yes, the railroad--tell me about the railroad."

"Aha, my girl, don't you see? Things ain't so dark, are they? Now I

didn't forget the railroad. Now just think for a moment--just figure up

a little on the future dead moral certainties. For instance, call this

waiter St. Louis.

"And we'll lay this fork (representing the railroad) from St. Louis to

this potato, which is Slouchburg:

"Then with this carving knife we'll continue the railroad from Slouchburg

to Doodleville, shown by the black pepper:

"Then we run along the--yes--the comb--to the tumbler that's Brimstone:

"Thence by the pipe to Belshazzar, which is the salt-cellar:

"Thence to, to--that quill--Catfish--hand me the pincushion, Marie

Antoinette:

"Thence right along these shears to this horse, Babylon:

"Then by the spoon to Bloody Run--thank you, the ink:

"Thence to Hail Columbia--snuffers, Polly, please move that cup and

saucer close up, that's Hail Columbia:

"Then--let me open my knife--to Hark-from-the-Tomb, where we'll put

the candle-stick--only a little distance from Hail Columbia to

Hark-from-the-Tomb--down-grade all the way.

"And there we strike Columbus River--pass me two or throe skeins of

thread to stand for the river; the sugar bowl will do for Hawkeye, and

the rat trap for Stone's Landing-Napoleon, I mean--and you can see how

much better Napoleon is located than Hawkeye. Now here you are with your

railroad complete, and showing its continuation to Hallelujah and thence

to Corruptionville.

"Now then-them you are! It's a beautiful road, beautiful. Jeff Thompson

can out-engineer any civil engineer that ever sighted through an aneroid,

or a theodolite, or whatever they call it--he calls it sometimes one and

sometimes the other just whichever levels off his sentence neatest, I

reckon. But ain't it a ripping toad, though? I tell you, it'll make a

stir when it gets along. Just see what a country it goes through.

There's your onions at Slouchburg--noblest onion country that graces

God's footstool; and there's your turnip country all around Doodleville

--bless my life, what fortunes are going to be made there when they get

that contrivance perfected for extracting olive oil out of turnips--if

there's any in them; and I reckon there is, because Congress has made an

appropriation of money to test the thing, and they wouldn't have done

that just on conjecture, of course. And now we come to the Brimstone

region--cattle raised there till you can't rest--and corn, and all that

sort of thing. Then you've got a little stretch along through Belshazzar

that don't produce anything now--at least nothing but rocks--but

irrigation will fetch it. Then from Catfish to Babylon it's a little

swampy, but there's dead loads of peat down under there somewhere. Next

is the Bloody Run and Hail Columbia country--tobacco enough can be raised

there to support two such railroads. Next is the sassparilla region.

I reckon there's enough of that truck along in there on the line of the

pocket-knife, from Hail Columbia to Hark-from-the Tomb to fat up all the

consumptives in all the hospitals from Halifax to the Holy Land. It just

grows like weeds! I've got a little belt of sassparilla land in there

just tucked away unobstrusively waiting for my little Universal

Expectorant to get into shape in my head. And I'll fix that, you know.

One of these days I'll have all the nations of the earth expecto--"

"But Beriah, dear--"

"Don't interrupt me; Polly--I don't want you to lose the run of the map

--well, take your toy-horse, James Fitz-James, if you must have it--and run

along with you. Here, now--the soap will do for Babylon. Let me see

--where was I? Oh yes--now we run down to Stone's Lan--Napoleon--now we

run down to Napoleon. Beautiful road. Look at that, now. Perfectly

straight line-straight as the way to the grave. And see where it leaves

Hawkeye-clear out in the cold, my dear, clear out in the cold. That

town's as bound to die as--well if I owned it I'd get its obituary ready,

now, and notify the mourners. Polly, mark my words--in three years from

this, Hawkeye'll be a howling wilderness. You'll see. And just look at

that river--noblest stream that meanders over the thirsty earth!

--calmest, gentlest artery that refreshes her weary bosom! Railroad

goes all over it and all through it--wades right along on stilts.

Seventeen bridges in three miles and a half--forty-nine bridges from

Hark-from-the-Tomb to Stone's Landing altogether--forty nine bridges, and

culverts enough to culvert creation itself! Hadn't skeins of thread

enough to represent them all--but you get an idea--perfect trestle-work

of bridges for seventy two miles: Jeff Thompson and I fixed all that, you

know; he's to get the contracts and I'm to put them through on the

divide. Just oceans of money in those bridges. It's the only part of

the railroad I'm interested in,--down along the line--and it's all I

want, too. It's enough, I should judge. Now here we are at Napoleon.

Good enough country plenty good enough--all it wants is population.

That's all right--that will come. And it's no bad country now for

calmness and solitude, I can tell you--though there's no money in that,

of course. No money, but a man wants rest, a man wants peace--a man

don't want to rip and tear around all the time. And here we go, now,

just as straight as a string for Hallelujah--it's a beautiful angle

--handsome up grade all the way --and then away you go to Corruptionville,

the gaudiest country for early carrots and cauliflowers that ever--good

missionary field, too. There ain't such another missionary field outside

the jungles of Central Africa. And patriotic?--why they named it after

Congress itself. Oh, I warn you, my dear, there's a good time coming,

and it'll be right along before you know what you're about, too. That

railroad's fetching it. You see what it is as far as I've got, and if I

had enough bottles and soap and boot-jacks and such things to carry it

along to where it joins onto the Union Pacific, fourteen hundred miles

from here, I should exhibit to you in that little internal improvement a

spectacle of inconceivable sublimity. So, don't you see? We've got the

rail road to fall back on; and in the meantime, what are we worrying

about that $200,000 appropriation for? That's all right. I'd be willing

to bet anything that the very next letter that comes from Harry will--"

The eldest boy entered just in the nick of time and brought a letter,

warm from the post-office.

"Things do look bright, after all, Beriah. I'm sorry I was blue, but it

did seem as if everything had been going against us for whole ages. Open

the letter--open it quick, and let's know all about it before we stir out

of our places. I am all in a fidget to know what it says."

The letter was opened, without any unnecessary delay.

The Gilded Age, Part 3. · 第 10 / 10 章