When I was twenty-four I lived at the small capital of my native
Southern State.
My parental home was three counties distant. My father, a slaveholding
planter, was a noble gentleman, whom I loved as he loved me. But we
could not endure each other's politics and I was trying to exist on my
professional fees, in the law office of one of our ex-governors. I was
kindly tolerated by everybody about me but had neglected social
relations, being a black sheep on every hot question of the time--1860.
In the world's largest matters my Southern mother had the sanest
judgment I ever knew, and it was from her I had absorbed my notions on
slavery. It was at least as much in sympathy for the white man as for
the black that she deprecated it, yet she pointed out to me how idle it
was to fancy that any mere manumission of our slaves would cure us of a
whole philosophy of wealth, society, and government as inbred as it was
antiquated.
One evening my two fellow boarders--state-house clerks, good boys--so
glaringly left me out of their plan for a whole day's fishing on the
morrow, that I smarted. I was so short of money that I could not have
supplied my own tackle, but no one knew that, and it stung me to be
slighted by two chaps I liked so well. I determined to be revenged in
some playful way that would make us better friends, and as I walked
down-street next morning I hit out a scheme. They had been gone since
daybreak and I was on my way to see a client who kept a livery-stable.
Now, in college, where I had intended to leave all silly tricks behind
me, my most taking pranks had been played in female disguise; for at
twenty-four I was as beardless as a child.
My errand to the stableman was to collect some part of my fee in a suit
I had won for him. But I got not a cent, for as to cash his victory
had been a barren one. However, a part of his booty was an old coach
built when carriage people made long journeys in their own equipages.
This he would "keep on sale for me free of charge," etc.
"Which means you'll never sell it," I said.
Oh, he could sell it if any man could!
I smiled. Could he lend me, I asked, for half a day or so, a good span
of horses? He could.
"Then hitch up the coach and let me try it."
He bristled: "What are you going to find out by 'trying' it? What
d'you 'llow it'll do? Blow up? Who'll drive it? _I_ can't spare any
one."
I was glad. Any man of his would know me, and my scheme called for a
stranger to both me and the coach. I must find such a person.
"If I send a driver," I said, "you'll lend me the span, won't you?"
"Oh, yes."
But all at once I decided to do without the whole rig. I went back to
my room and had an hour's enjoyment making myself up as a lady dressed
for travel. For a woman I was of just a fine stature. In years I
looked a refined forty. My hands were not too big for black lace
mitts, my bosom was a success, and my feet, in thin morocco, were out
of sight and nobody's business. A little oil and a burnt match
darkened my eyebrows, my wig sat straight, under the weest of bonnets I
wore a chignon, behind one ear a bunch of curls, and, unseen at one
side of a modest bustle, my revolver. Though I say it myself, I
managed my crinoline with grace.
["That was pritty co'rect," the costumer remarked. "Humph!" said
Chester. The three mesdames exchanged glances, and the reading went
on.]