JONATHAN TARBOX, OF SQUASHBORO'.
A great steamer was plowing its way through the Atlantic waves.
Fifteen hundred miles were traversed, and nearly the same remained
to be crossed. The sea had been rough in consequence of a storm, and
even now there was considerable motion. A few passengers were on deck,
among them our young hero, who felt better in the open air than in the
closer atmosphere below; besides, he admired the grandeur of the sea,
spreading out on all sides of him, farther than his eyes could reach.
He had got over his first sadness at parting with his mother, and he
was now looking forward with the most eager anticipation to setting
foot upon European soil.
He shared a state-room with Sharpley, but the latter spent little time
in the boy's company. He had discovered some congenial company among
the other passengers, and spent most of the time smoking with them or
playing cards below. Frank did not miss him much, as he found plenty to
engage his attention on board.
As he stood looking out on the wild waste of waters, trying to see
if anywhere he could discover another vessel, he was aroused by the
salutation:
"I say, you boy!"
Looking around, he saw a tall, thin man, dressed in a blue swallow-tail
coat with brass buttons, a high standing dickey, and pants three or
four inches too short in the legs. He was an admirable specimen of the
Yankee--as he is represented on the stage--an exceptional specimen,
though some of our foreign friends may regard him as the rule. It
was not the first time Frank had seen him. Two or three times he had
appeared at the table; but he had been stricken with seasickness,
and for the greater part of the voyage thus far had remained in his
state-room.
"Good morning, sir," said Frank, politely. "You have been seasick,
haven't you?"
"Seasick! I guess I have," returned the other, energetically. "I
thought I was goin' to kick the bucket more'n once."
"It is not a very agreeable feeling," said Frank.
"I guess not. If I'd known what kind of a time I was a-goin' to have, I
wouldn't have left Squashboro', you bet!"
"Are you from Squashboro'?" asked Frank, amused.
"Yes, I'm from Squashboro', State of Maine, and I wish I was there just
now, I tell you."
"You won't feel so when you get on the other side," said Frank,
consolingly.
"Well, may be not; but I tell you, boy, it feels kinder risky bein'
out here on the mill-pond with nothin' but a plank between you and
drownin'. I guess I wouldn't make a very good sailor."
"Are you going to travel much?" asked Frank.
"Wal, you see, I go mostly on business. My name's Jonathan Tarbox. My
father's name is Elnathan Tarbox. He's got a nice farm in Squashboro',
next to old Deacon Perkins'. Was you ever in Squashboro'?"
"No; I think not."
"It's a thrivin' place, is Squashboro'. Wal, now, I guess you are
wonderin' what sets me out to go to Europe, ain't you?"
"I suppose you want to see the country, Mr. Tarbox."
"Ef that was all, you wouldn't catch me goin' over and spendin' a heap
of money, all for nothin'. That ain't business."
"Then I suppose you go on business?"
"I guess I do. You see I've invented a new plow, that, I guess, is
goin' to take the shine off of any other that's in use, and it kinder
struck me that ef I should take it to the Paris Exhibition, I might,
may be, make somethin' out of it. I've heerd that they're a good deal
behind in farm tools in the old European countries, and I guess I'll
open their eyes a little with my plow."
"I hope you'll succeed, Mr. Tarbox," said Frank, politely.
"I guess I shall. You see, I've risked considerable money onto it--that
is, in travelin' expenses and such like. You see, my Uncle Abner--he
wasn't my real uncle, that is, by blood, but he was the husband of my
Aunt Matilda, my mother's oldest sister--didn't have no children of his
own, so he left me two thousand dollars in his will."
Mr. Tarbox paused in order to see what effect the mention of this great
inheritance would have upon his auditor.
"Indeed you were lucky, Mr. Tarbox," said Frank.
"I guess I felt tickled when I heard of it. I jist kicked like a
two-year-old colt. Wal, now, dad wanted me to buy a thirty-acre farm
that was for sale about half a mile from his'n, but I wouldn't. I'd
about fetched my plow out right, and I wa'n't goin' to settle down
on no two-thousand-dollar farm. Catch me! No; I heerd of this Paris
Exhibition, and I vowed I'd come out here and see what could be did.
So here I am. I ain't sorry I cum, though I was about sick enough to
die. Thought I should a-turned inside out one night when the vessel was
goin' every which way."
"I was sick myself that night," said Frank.
Mr. Tarbox having now communicated all his own business, naturally felt
a degree of curiosity about that of his young companion.
"Are you goin' to the Paris Exhibition?" he asked.
"I suppose so. It depends upon Colonel Sharpley."
"The man you're travelin' with? Yes; I saw him at the table--tall man,
black hair, and slim, ain't he?"
"Yes, sir."
"So he's a colonel, is he?"
"Yes."
"Did he fight in any of our wars?"
"No, he's an Englishman."
"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Tarbox, with a slight contempt in his voice. "He
wouldn't be no match for an American officer."
"I don't know," said Frank.
"Wal, I do--the Yankees always could whip any other nation, not but the
colonel seems a respectable man, though he's a foreigner."
"It is we who will be foreigners when we get to England," said Frank.
This aroused the controversial spirit of Mr. Tarbox.
"Do you mean to say that you and me will turn to furriners?" he asked,
indignantly.
"We shall be foreigners in England."
"No, we won't," said Jonathan, energetically. "At any rate, I won't. I
shall always be a free-born American citizen, and a free-born American
citizen can't be a furriner."
"Not in America, Mr. Tarbox, but in England, I am saying."
"A free-born American citizen ain't a furriner anywhere," said Mr.
Tarbox, emphatically.
Frank was amused, but felt it wise to discontinue the discussion.
"Are you goin' to Europe on business?" inquired the other.
"No, only for pleasure."
"Sho! I guess you must have a considerable pile of money!" suggested
Mr. Tarbox, inquiringly.
"I have a little money," said Frank, modestly.
"Left you?"
"Yes, by my father."
"Wal, so you're in luck, too. Is the colonel related to you?"
"No. He is a friend of my step-father."
"Sho! So your mother married again. How long are you going to stay on
the other side?"
"Only three or four months, I think."
"Do you know how much they ask for board in Paris?" asked Jonathan,
with considerable interest.
"No, Mr. Tarbox, I have no idea. I suppose it's according to what kind
of rooms and board you take."
"Wal, you see, Mr.--what did you say your name was?"
"Hunter."
"I once knowed a Hunter--I think he was took up for stealing."
"I don't think he was any relation of mine, Mr. Tarbox."
"Likely not. What was I a-goin' to say? Oh, Mr. Hunter, I ain't very
particular about my fodder. I don't mind havin' baked beans half the
time--pork and beans--and you know them are cheap."
"So I've heard."
"And as to a room, I don't mind it's bein' fixed up with fiddle-de-dee
work and sich. Ef it's only comfortable--that'll suit me."
"Then I think you'll be able to get along cheap, Mr. Tarbox."
"That's what I calc'late. Likely I'll see you over there. What's that
bell for?"
"Lunch."
"Let's go down. Fact is, I've been so tarnal sea-sick I'm empty as a
well-bucket dried in the sun. I guess I can eat to-day."
They went down to the saloon, and Mr. Tarbox's prophecy was verified.
He shoveled in the food with great energy, and did considerable toward
making up for past deficiencies. Frank looked on amused. He was rather
inclined to like his countryman, though he acknowledged him to be very
deficient in polish and refinements.