A LITTLE FUN AND ITS PRICE.
Al Faizi got acquainted with the Baptist minister at Jonesville, and Elder Dean took to that noble heathen in a remarkable way. He wuz a truly Christian man and deep learnt, and he and Al Faizi talked together right in my presence in languages, a good many of them dead, I spoze, and some on ’em, jedgin’ from the sound, in a sickly and dyin’ state.
Elder Dean wuz English, college bred. Been abroad as a missionary, broke down, and come to Jonesville with a weak voice and lungs, but a full head and a noble heart, for six hundred dollars a year and parsonage found.
They’d always had a hard time, bein’ put to it for things and kinder sickly. But he and his heroic wife had one flower in their life that wuz a-bustin’ into full bloom, and a-sweetenin’ their hard present and their wearisome past, and the promise and beauty on’t a-throwin’ a bright, clear light clear acrost their futer—even down the steep banks where the swift stream rushes through the dark, and clear over onto the other side.
This brightness and blessin’ that lightened up their hard and toilsome way wuz their only child, a youth of such manly beauty and gentle goodness that his love made up to ’em, so they said to me, for all they had suffered and all they had lost through their lives.
He had been brought up on clear love mostly. His Pa and Ma had literally carried him in their hearts from the time his sweet, baby face had smiled up to ’em from his cradle.
Nobody could tell the tenderness and love that had been lavished on him. His Ma jest lived in him and his Pa, too, but their devotion hadn’t spilte him, not at all—not mentally nor morally.
Though there wuz them that did think that his Ma, bein’ so dretful tender of him and lookin’ out so for his health in every way, had kinder weakened his constitution and he would have been stronger if he had roughed it more.
Bein’ watched over so lovin’ly all his days, he wuz jest about as delicate and couldn’t stand any more hardship than a girl; but he wuz stiddy and industrious, a good Christian, and dretful ambitious. And they looked forrered to him as bein’ an honor as well as a blessin’ to ’em in the futer.
The minister had learnt him all he knew, so he said, and for years back they’d been savin’ every penny they could, deprivin’ themselves of even necessaries to git the money to send Harry to college. From his babyhood they’d worked for this. And jest before Al Faizi come to Jonesville, the long looked-for and worked-for end had come—Harry had gone to college, a-carryin’ with him all his parents’ love and hope for the futer, and a small trunk full of necessaries, some Balsam of Fir for his lungs, and some plasters and things his Ma had put in.
Wall, as I said, Elder Dean had took dretfully to Al Faizi, and he to him. So one day I invited the elder and his wife over to dinner. I went myself to gin ’em the invitation.
I found the elder a carefully coverin’ a old book of poems he had bought, which wuz very rare, so he said, and jest what Harry had wanted. He had took the money he had been savin’ for a winter coat, so I hearn afterwards, to buy it.
And she wuz knittin’ a african to put over the couch in his room. She had ravelled out a good shawl of her own to git the red for it, so I hearn.
“But,” she sez, “when he comes into his room a little chilly, it will be so nice to throw over his feet, and he always liked that soft, crimson color. He gits cold real easy,” sez she, a-holdin’ up the african and lookin’ real affectionate at it. It wuz a good african.
I asked ’em to come to dinner the next day, and they both demurred at first, sayin’ that it wuz the day for Harry’s long letter to come. He writ ’em long letters twice a week, and they both felt that they wanted to be right there by the post-office so’s to git it the minute it arrove.
Wall, it wuz compromised in this way—I promisin’ that Ury should be at the post-office when the afternoon mail come in and bring it to ’em right to our house. And I mentioned that the old mair could go pretty fast when Ury and Necessity wuz a-drivin’ her; so they consented to come.
And I cooked up dretful good vittles. I don’t think they’re ever than above well fed to home, and I did enjoy a-cookin’ up good, nourishin’ food for ’em with Philury’s help.
I had some good beef soup, two roast chickens, with garden sass of all kinds, cream biscuit, strawberry shortcake and jell, and rich, yellow coffee with cream and loaf sugar in it.
I did well by ’em.
And I had a real good visit with ’em; for I jest as lives spend my time a-hearin’ about Harry as not. I wuz a-knittin’, and of course could hear and knit. And Josiah and Al Faizi (good creeters both on ’em) had jest as lives hear the elder praise up his boy in dead languages as in live ones.
And so they enjoyed themselves real well.
As I say, when the elder would git tired of praisin’ him up in English he would try it in Greek, and when that language got tired out and kinder dead, he would try a healthier, stronger one, so I spoze. He and Al Faizi sot out in the porch some of the time, but I could hear ’em.
Miss Dean and I got along first-rate in our own native tongues, though once in awhile I felt that, visitor or no visitor, I had to sprunt up a little and tell my mind about Thomas J., and what a remarkable boy he always wuz, and what a man he’d made.
But I see they wuz so oneasy when they wuzn’t a-praisin’ Harry that I switched off the track as polite as I could and gin ’em a clear sweep. And from that time Happiness and Harry rained supreme in our settin’-room and piazza. And reminescenes wuz brung up and plans laid on and prophecies foretold, and all wuz Harry, Harry, Harry.
Wall, I see Miss Dean kep’ a-lookin’ at the clock, though I told her it lacked three hours of train time. But in the same cause of politeness I had held up through the day I sent Ury off a hour before it wuz time, and in due time he come back bearin’ a letter.
He brung it up to the stoop and handed it to the elder.
AS THE ELDER TOOK IT HE TURNED PALE.
As the elder took it he turned pale—white as a piece of white cotton shirt, and sez he—
“This is not Harry’s hand!”
Miss Dean jest leaped forward and ketched holt of his hand.
“What is it? Not Harry’s writin’, what does it mean?”
Wall, when the letter wuz opened, we found what it meant.
Dead! dead! That bright young life, full of hope and beauty and promise, had been cut down like a worthless weed by the infamous practice of Hazin’.
Gentlemen’s sons, young men who had had every means of civilization at their command, had committed the brutality of a savage. Young men of riches, education, culture, position, they had committed this murder jest for wanton fun. They had called him out of his bed at midnight on a false errent, locked him out of his room for hours, poured a lot of icy water on him; he, shiverin’ with his almost naked limbs, had plead in vain for help.
Where wuz his Ma and Pa at this time? Asleep and dreamin’ of him, mebby.
A congestive chill had attackted the weak lungs, and in two days he wuz dead.
One of the pupils not engaged in it, in deep sympathy and pity, writ the hull thing out to the bereaved parents.
We carried ’em home and helped ’em out of the democrat—helped ’em to walk into the house, for they couldn’t walk alone. We sot him down under a picter of Harry that had fresh flowers under it—laid her on a couch covered with the woosted work she wuz a-makin’ for him, and took care on ’em as well as we could while they waited for Harry to come home.
Oh dear me! Oh dear suz!!!
I can’t tell nothin’ about that time. My pen trembles, jest as my heart duz, when I try to write about it.
I’m a-goin’ to hang up a black bumbazeen curtain between the reader and that seen for the next few days. Reader, it is best for you that I do it—you couldn’t stand it if I didn’t.
The curtain ort to be crape, but crape, though all right in the line of mournin’, is pretty thin for the purpose—you might see through it.
But I will jest lift up a corner on’t a few days later to show you another coffin, with the broken-hearted mother a-layin’ in it, with a broken-down old man bendin’ over it alone, waitin’ for the summons to jine ’em in another country.
One victim buried, another victim layin’ in the coffin, another victim, most to be pitied of all, a-stayin’ on here alone in a dark world a-waitin’ for the end.
Gay, light-hearted young man, havin’ a good time at college—sowin’ your wild oats—havin’ royal good fun, what do you think of the end of that night’s jollity?
Al Faizi couldn’t understand it. Sez he to me—
“His murderers will be hanged, will they not?”
“Hung!” sez I in astonishment; “oh, no! this is merely Hazin’—college fun for young gentlemen.”
“Gentlemen!” sez he. “Do gentlemen murder in your country? Why, your missionaries tell our people that if they murder they must be hanged in this world and eternally punished in the next.”
“But,” sez I, “these young gentlemen were simply havin’ a little fun!” My tone wuz as bitter as wormwood and gaul, and he see it.
“Has such a thing ever been done before in this country?” sez he.
“Oh, yes!” sez I (wormwood and gaul still saturating my axents); “it is very common—it is always practised. Sometimes the victims are only frightened to death and maimed and made idiots and invalids of; sometimes they don’t die so soon; but then, agin,” sez I, “they die fur quicker—sometimes, when the young gentlemen want to be extra funny, and use some deadly gas, their victim dies to once, right under their hands.”
“But don’t the Government interfere to punish such dreadful deeds?”
“Oh, no!” sez I; “the Government has its hands too full a-grantin’ licenses and sech, sellin’ the stuff that helps to make these disgraceful seens.”
“Well, do not men and women rise and punish such deeds themselves?”
“Oh, no!” sez I; “wimmen are considered too feeble-minded to pass any jedgment on sech doin’s—they’re considered by the college professors and presidents, as a general thing, as too weak-minded and volatile to take in a college education, and men are kep’ pretty busy a-bringin’ up arguments to keep wimmen in their place.
“Of course, no sech doin’s ever took place in a woman’s college. They generally spend their time in learnin’, and don’t riot round and act, and that itself is considered, I believe, an evidence that wimmen are inheriently weak and not really fitted for the higher education. It is, I believe, considered a damagin’ evidence agin her powers of mind to think she don’t have no hankerin’ to spend her college days a-gittin’ up the reputation of a prizefighter and a boat-swain, and had ruther spend her time a-bringin’ out the strength of her mind and soul instead of her muscles.”
Sez I, “Take that with her refusal to kill and maim and torture her fellow students by Hazin’, and her dislike to cigarettes, drinkin’, etc.—take ’em all together, though she carries off prizes right and left for learnin’ and good behavior, yet these weaknesses of hern in refusin’ to jine in such upliftin’ exercises, tells agin her dretfully in the eyes of the male world!”
Oh! how the wormword showed in my axent as I spoke.
“Of all the strange things which I have seen in your strange country,” sez Al Faizi, “this is one of the strangest—a civilized nation practising such barbarities!”
And he took out that little book with the cross on’t and writ for a quarter of an hour, and I d’no but more.
Wall, the days went along, one after another, as days will, droppin’ off, droppin’ off the rosary Time counts its beads on, and the time pretty near elapsted for us to embark on our trip to Europe.
The tickets wuz bought, the nightcaps wuz packed, and the time drawed near.
But as the time aproached, the thought of the deepness of the water in the Atlantic growed more and more apparient to me.
I took down my old Atlas and Gography from the cupboard over the suller way and poured over ’em, and sithed, and sithed and poured.
The distance looked fearful between shore and shore, and my reason told me, also experience, that the reality wuz jest as much worse as black water is worse than yeller paper.
The ocean wuz painted on this old Atlas bright yeller.
And the last time Al Faizi came back from quite a long trip he had took to Washington and New York he found me a-pourin’ over the old Atlas; while the nightcaps and dressin’-gown, all done up, lay on a stand by my side.
As I mentioned more formally, I’d made a nice flannel dressin’-gown for myself, and it satisfied my desires for comfort and also my pride; though I didn’t act over it as my pardner did over hisen. No; a sense of dignity and propriety restrained me.
I cut it out by my nightgown pattern and made it fuller—it looked well. It wuz a brown and red stripe, tied down in front with lute string ribbin, that I paid as high as 14 cents a yard for, and thought it none too good for the occasion; I thought in case of a panick at sea, and I had to appear in it, I wouldn’t begrech the outlay for the ribbin.
And then, agin, seein’ we wuzn’t to any extra expense for the voyage, I thought it wuzn’t extravagant in us to lanch out in clothes, or that is, lanch out some in ’em, not too fur.
For I didn’t believe in goin’ through Europe follered by a dray full of trunks.
No; I felt that two large satchels, that we could carry ourselves, wuz what the occasion demanded.
That wuz our first thought, though we afterwards decided to take a trunk.
Of course I took my mantilly, with tabs. It wuz jest as good as it ever wuz, and a big woollen shawl to wear when it wuz cold on the steamer. And my good, honorable bunnet, with my usual green baize veil to drape it gracefully on the left side.
My umbrell, it is needless to say, occupied its usual place in my outfit—protection from storms and tramps and other dangers, and it could also be used for a cane.
Noble utensil! I would have felt lost indeed to have missed it from its accustomed place at my right hand.
As I say, Al Faizi come back and found us engrossed in preperations and study.
I with my Atlas, and Josiah carefully brushin’ his dressin’-gown, though there wuzn’t a speck of dust on it, and a-smoothin’ out them tossels.
We wuz a-makin’ our last preperations, for it only lacked about six weeks of the time when we wuz to embark. Our satchels stood all unlocked, with the keys fastened to ’em with good strong weltin’ cord, so’s we wouldn’t have to hunt for the keys at the last minute. Some long letters for the relations on both sides lay on Josiah’s desk, to be sent after our departure; they wuz dretful affectin’ letters; we thought more’n as like as not they would bring tears.
And as Al Faizi come in and witnessed our hasty preperations, he announced in that calm way of hisen that he would go with us.
For a minute I wuz dumfoundered, and knew not whether I wuz tickled to death at the proposal, or felt sorry and meachin’ over it.
I felt queer.
Sez Al Faizi, “I come to your land expecting I hardly know what.
“My heart had been touched by learning of your holy religion. I had accepted the teachings of the blessed Lord Christ with all my heart and soul; warmed by His love, I come to your country to learn what that Divine religion would be amongst the people who had followed His teachings eighteen hundred years, and had no false religion to paralyze its power——and now—”
“Wall,” sez I, for Al Faizi paused for a good while, not a-lookin’ mad, nor pert, nor anythin’, but jest earnest and some sad, and very quiet.
“Now what?” sez I.
He didn’t say nothin’. He looked as if he wuz afraid of hurtin’ somebody’s feelin’s; but at last he said in that soft, melodious voice of hisen—
“Now, I should like to go to other lands.”
I felt fearful meachin’, and showed it, I spoze, to have a Hindoo come here and git disgusted with our ways, for I mistrusted that he wuz, though he didn’t say so out plain. And there wuzn’t a shadder of blame on his face; jest calm and earnest, jest as he always had been, and always would be, so fur as I could tell.
He couldn’t find Truth and Jestice here, and so he wuz for follerin’ off on their trail over the Atlantic.
I felt queer as a dog, but Josiah hailed the idee with joy. He seemed highly tickled to have one more ingregient of curosity added to our cavalcade.
