THE EMBARKATION.
And so it wuz settled, and Martin bein’ writ to to git another ticket, he got it, and sent it in a letter to us. But what he would say when he see the passenger who wuz goin’ to use it I knew not, but I knew that Alice and Adrian wuz good-natered, and would feel as I did about usin’ folks well. And then I remembered that complaint in Martin’s eyes, and felt that if he didn’t take to Al Faizi, he would most probble be so near-sighted that he couldn’t see him much, if any.
And so it turned out (to go ahead of the wagon a spell, or, ruther, to paddle backwards a few furlongs), after the first conversation Martin held with him, and see what his bizness wuz over here in America and wuz a-goin’ to be in Europe—Martin’s eyes wuz so bad that he couldn’t see him hardly ever.
But Alice wuz sweet and courteous to him, and Adrian liked him dretfully from the first. And Al Faizi, when he first see Alice’s sweet face, he stood stun still for more’n quite a spell.
And on his dark, handsome face dawned a look sech as a man might have who had been walkin’ a considerable time through a underground way, who had come out full in view of the mornin’ sun a-risin’ up on a June world.
I d’no as anybody noticed that look but jest me; I don’t believe they did, for Martin wuz talkin’ to Josiah in a dretful kind and patronizin’ way, and Alice wuz all took up a-lookin’ with her heart’s eye on the land where her prince reigned.
And Adrian wuz, as I say, dretful took up with Al Faizi, and see nothin’ in his dark, expressive face only what he looked for, and what he found in it from day to day all through our tower—the good nater of a patient comrade, who loved him for his own bright, winnin’ little self, and loved him more for the sake of another, whose heart’s joy Adrian wuz.
Martin’s eye complaint seemed to be real bad so fur as the noble heathen wuz concerned.
I guess Al Faizi, in the first conversation he had with him, tackled him in the everlastin’ cause of jestice, and pity, and mercy—subjects that Martin hain’t “o fay” in (that is French. I seldom use foreign languages, but I’ve hearn Maggie use it considerable, and know it is lawful).
No; Martin and Al Faizi looked on this earth and the things of life with sech different pairs of eyes that I d’no as they could be said to look on this old planet on the same side.
Al Faizi looked on the deep side of subjects. He looked fur down under the outside current to try to discern the hidden springs, from whence these clear and turbid torrents flowed.
If he found a spring that yielded black water, his first thought wuz to give warnin’ and try to dam it up.
Martin would try to keep it a-humpin’, so’s to utilize it—sell the mud that flowed from it, mebby.
Al Faizi’s gaze pierced through the clouds of earth, and rested on the gold pinnacles of Heaven.
Martin clutched handfuls of the gold ore of earth and held it clost to his eyes, and so shet out the sight of the Heavenly City.
One wuz honestly a-tryin’ to sweep away utterly the vile sperits of ignorance, evil, and want, etc., etc. Martin wuz for catchin’ ’em and hitchin’ ’em to his lawn-mower, to keep the lawn smooth round the house of his earthly tabernacle.
Curous extremes as ever met, I believe, and as interestin’ to witness from day to day as the most costly and curous menagerie of wild animals would be.
But, as I said, Martin’s eyes bein’ formed in jest that way, he wuzn’t able to hardly see the noble heathen after that first interview.
Wall, to go back to the wagon agin and proceed onwards with my history, or paddle back to the steamer.
At last the last minute come—Ury and Philury had took us to the cars and been shooken by the hands, and amidst fervent good-byes had been adjured over and over about the necessity of keepin’ the cat out of the milk room, and the gate shet between the garden and paster, etc., etc., etc., etc., etc., etc., etc.
And they had promised faithfully to adhere to our wishes, and to advise us of the results in weekly letters.
We let ’em move right in and have half of everything—butter, cheese, eggs, wool, black caps, etc. And they wuz highly tickled as well as we.
Thomas Jefferson and Maggie had gone with us to the station, where Whitfield and Tirzah Ann put in a late appearance, on account of Tirzah’s bein’ ondecided whether to wear a thick or a thin dress; the day bein’ one of them curous ones when you don’t really know whether it will be hazy or warm.
And they’d come in time to kiss us and clasp our hands in partin’.
IN TIME TO KISS US AND CLASP OUR HANDS IN PARTIN’.
The girls both brought bokays with ’em, and Babe, the darlin’, brought a bunch of English violets to send to Adrian, knowin’ that he jest worshipped that posy—and it’s one of my favorites, too. Wall, the last words wuz said to us, Al Faizi had made his last low bow to the children, and said the last polite, melodious adieu, and we embarked on to the cars.
But I looked back, and I see Tirzah Ann a-wrestlin’ with her polynay, that had got ketched into her parasol, and Whitfield a-helpin’ her to ondo herself.
And I see Maggie’s sweet, upward look to the car winder, and met the clear, affectionate, comprehendin’ look of my boy, Thomas Jefferson.
It is curous how well acquainted our sperits be with each other, hisen and mine, and always has been, from the time when he sot on my lap as a child. Our souls are clost friends, and would be if he wuzn’t no kin to me.
He is a young man of a thousand, and he understands my mind without my speakin’, and I do hisen.
But to resoom. It had been arranged that we should proceed directly to a hotel that wuz nigh to the Atlantic, and Martin should call for us there, his own residence bein’ in a opposite direction.
We did so, and after a good meal—and we all did jestice to it, bein’ hungry—a big carriage driv up, and Martin alighted from it and come in.
Anon we embarked in it, and after a seen of almost indescribable tumult, owin’ to the screamin’ of drivers, the conflict of passin’ wagons and carriages and dray carts, etc., etc., etc., etc.
And after numerous givin’s up on my part that now indeed wuz the time I wuz to “likewise perish,” we found ourselves on the big steamer’s deck that wuz to bear us away from our own native land.
Lots of folks wuz there a-takin’ leave of friends. Some wuz weepin’, some wuz laughin’, some wuz talkin’, and that las’ some wuz multiplied by hundreds and thousands, seemin’ly.
And piles of flowers lay round, offerin’s to and from fond hearts that must sever.
Adrian had his bunch of sweet blue violets, and the violets wuzn’t any sweeter than his eyes. And I, even at the resk of losin’ my umbrell, clutched my precious bokays—the frail links that seemed to connect me with my own native Jonesville and my loved ones there.
Josiah seemed to be lookin’ round for somebody he could scrape acquaintance with.
And Al Faizi stood in that silent way of hisen, with his dark, ardent face seemin’ly on the lookout for sunthin’ or other he could learn, and a-seein’ every move that Alice made, as I could see, though nobody else noticed it.
Martin wuz a-flyin’ round, busy a-seein’ to everything. Alice wuz a little apart a-bendin’ over the side of the great ship. She seemed to be lookin’ intently on sunthin’ or somebody on the pier, and as we sailed off I see her snowy handkerchief wave out, and where she’d been a-lookin’ I see an arm lifted up and another white handkerchief wave out a farewell.
HER BIG BLUE EYES WUZ FULL OF TEARS.
When I looked clost at her, I see that her big blue eyes wuz full of tears.
As for me, I wuz tryin’ my best to keep my equilibrum, for the boat tosted some, and my equilibrum hain’t what it would be if it hadn’t had the rheumatiz so much.
But my umbrell helped me some; I planted it down and leaned heavy on it, and in its faithful companionship and support I found some relief as I see the land sail swift away from me, seemin’ to be in a hurry to go somewhere.
And I sez in my heart—“Good-bye, dear old Land! you no need to be in sech a hurry to go back and dissapear in the distance; no truer lover did you ever have than she who now witnesses your swift departure,” and even in my reverie wantin’ to be exact, I added—“she whose name wuz once Smith.”
Quite a while did I stand there until Reason and also Josiah told me that I had better seek my state-room.
I don’t find no fault with that room, it probble wuzn’t its fault that the narrer walls riz up so many times, and seemed to hit me in my head and stomach, specially the stomach, and then anon turn round with me, and teeter, and bow down, and hump up, and act.
No; the little room wuzn’t to blame, and my sufferin’s with Josiah Allen for the three days when he lay, as he said, in a dyin’ state, right over my head—
I a-sufferin’ twice over—once in myself and agin in my other and more fraxious and worrisome self.
The wild demeanors, the groans, the frenzied exclamations, and anon the faint and die-away actions of that man can’t never be described upon, and if it could, it would make readin’ that no man would want to read, nor no woman neither.
But after a long interval, in which, while I wuz a-layin’, a-tryin’ in a agonized way to think how I wanted my effects distributed amongst the survivors—I would be called away from that contemplation to receive my pardner’s last wills and testaments, and I heard anon or oftener, spoke in solemn axents—
“Bury me in the dressin’-gown, Samantha.”
He clung to that idee, even in his lowest and most sinkin’est moments.
I reached up, or tried to, and took holt of his limp hand that dangled down over my head, and I sez—
“You will live, Josiah, to wear it out.”
And as feeble as he wuz, and as much as he had wanted to die, them words would seem to sooth him some, and be a paneky to him.
I repeated ’em often, for they seemed to impress him where more affectionate and moral arguments failed.
But I may as well hang up a double rep curtain between my hearers and the fearful seens that wuz enacted in our state-rooms for nearly three days and nights.
I hang a rep curtain, so’s it would shelter the seens more; cretonne is too thin.
But some of the seens are so agonizin’ and sharp pinted that they seem to pierce even through that envelopin’ drapery.
One of them dagger-like episodes wuz of the fog horns.
If Josiah’s testementary idees and our united wretchedness would have let me doze off some in rare intervals, the tootin’ of them horns would be sure to roust me up.
Yes, they made the night dretful—ringin’ of bells, tootin’ of horns, etc.
And once, it wuz along in the latter part of the night, I guess, I heard a loud cry a-risin’ above the fog horn. It seemed to be a female in distress.
And Josiah wuz all rousted up in a minute.
And sez he—“Some female is in distress, Samantha! Where is my dressin’-gown?” Sez he, “I will go to her rescue!” And he rung the bell wildly for the stewardess, and acted.
Sez I—“Josiah Allen, come back to bed! no woman ever yelled so loud as that and lived! If it is a female she’s beyend your help now.” And I curdled down in bed agin, though I felt queer and felt dretful sorry for her; but felt that indeed that yell must have been her last, and that she wuz now at rest.
But he wuz still wildly arrangin’ his gown, and hollerin’ for the tossels—they’d slipped off from it.
“Where is them dum tossels?” he yelled; “must I hear a female yell like that and not fly to her rescue? Where is the tossels?” he yelled agin. “You don’t seem to have no heart, Samantha, or you’d be rousted up!”
“I am rousted up!” sez I; “yes, indeed, I have been rousted up ever sence I laid my head onto my piller; but if you wuz so anxious to help and save, Josiah, you wouldn’t wait for tossels!”
But at that minute, simultaneous and to once, the chambermaid come to the door, and he found his tossels.
“Who is that female a-screamin’?” sez Josiah, a-tyin’ the cord in a big bow-knot.
“That is the Syren,” sez she. And she slammed the door and went back; she wuz mad to be waked up for that.
“The Syren!” sez Josiah; “what did I tell you, Samantha?” And sez he, a-smoothin’ out the tossels, “I wouldn’t have missed the sight for a dollar bill! How lucky I found my tossels!” sez he.
“Yes, dretful lucky,” sez I faintly, for I wuz wore completely out by my long night watches, and I felt fraxious.
“Yes,” sez he, “I wouldn’t have appeared before a Syren without them red tossels for no money. I always wanted to see a Syren!” sez he, a-smoothin’ out the few hairs on each side of his cranium.
Sez he, “She wuz probble a-screamin’ for her lookin’-glass and comb; I’ll go to once on deck. It is a bad night; if she has missed her comb, I might lend her my pocket-comb,” sez he.
“You let Syrens alone, Josiah Allen!” sez I, gittin’ rousted up; “you don’t want to meddle with ’em at all! and do you come back to bed.”
“Not at all,” sez he; “here is the chance of my lifetime. I’ve always wanted to see a Syren, and now I’m a-goin’ to!”
And he reached up to a peg and took down his tall plug hat, and put it on kinder to the side of his head in as rakish a lookin’ way as you ever see a deacon’s hat in the world; he then took his umbrell and started for the door.
THEN TOOK HIS UMBRELL AND STARTED FOR THE DOOR.
Agin come that loud and fearful yell; it did, indeed, seem to be a female in direst agony.
“But,” I sez, “I don’t believe that’s any Syren, Josiah Allen; we read that her voice lures sailors to foller her; no sailor would be lured by that voice, it is enough to scare anybody and drive ’em back, instead of forrered.
“What occasion would a Syren have to yell in sech a blood-curdlin’ way, Josiah Allen?”
“Wall,” sez he, put to his wits’ end, “mebby her hair is all snarled up by the wind and salt water, and in yankin’ out the snarls, it hurts her so that she yells.”
I see the common sense of this, for the first night I had used soap and salt water my hair stood out like quills on my head, and it almost killed me to comb it out. “But,” sez I, “Syrens are used to wind storms and salt water. I don’t spoze their hair is like other folkses.”
Agin come that fearful, agonizin’ yell.
Agin Josiah sez—“While we are a-bandyin’ words back and forth, I am losin’ the sight,” and agin he made for the door.
But I follered him and ketched holt of the tossels.
He paused to once. He feared they would be injured.
Sez I, “Come back to bed; how it would look in the Jonesville paper to hear that Josiah Allen had been lured overboard by a Syren, for they always try to drown men, Josiah!” sez I.
“Oh, shaw!” sez he; “they never had me to deal with. I should stand still and argy with her—I always convince the more opposite sect,” sez he, lookin’ vain.
But I see the allusion to drowndin’ made him hesitate, and sez he—
“You don’t spoze there is any danger of that, do you, Samantha? I would give a dollar bill to tell old Gowdey and Uncle Sime Bentley that I’d interviewed a Syren!” sez he. “It would make me a lion, Samantha, and you a lioness.”
“I shan’t be made any animal whatsoever, Josiah Allen, by follerin’ up a Syren at this time of night. They never did anything but harm, from their grandmothers’ days down, and men have always been fooled and drownded by ’em!” sez I; “you let Syrens alone and come to bed,” sez I; “you’re a perfessor and a grandfather, Josiah Allen, and I’d try to act becomin’ to both on em,” sez I.
He fingered the red tossels lovin’ly.
“Sech a chance,” sez he, “mebby I never shall have agin. I don’t spoze any man who ever parlied with ’em wuz ever so dressy in his appearance, and so stylish—no knowin’ what would come of it!” sez he. He hated to give up the idee.
“Wall,” sez I, “it’s rainin’ as hard as it can; them tossels never would come out flossy and beautiful agin, they would all be limped and squashed down and spilte.”
“Do you think so?” sez he anxiously.
He took off his hat and put down his umbrell, and sez he—“It may be as well to not foller the investigation to-night; there will probble be a chance in fairer weather.”
But the next day we found out that the Syren wuz a thing they fixed onto the fog horn for certain signals, and Josiah felt glad enough that he hadn’t made no moves to talk with her.
I wuz glad on the side of common sense. He on the account of them tossels.
But after we found out what it wuz, and all about it, that fog horn made us feel dretful lonesome and queer when we heard it, half asleep and half awake. It would seem as if one half of our life wuz a-hollerin’ out to the other half.
Youth and middle age a-callin’ out to each other——
“Loss! loss!” and “Gain! gain!” as the case might be.
Jonesville and London, “Yell! yell!”
Love! peace! death! danger! “Shriek! shriek!”
Them you love who wuz here on earth, and them who’d gone over the Great Flood, “Shout! shout!”
“Ship ahoy! What hail!”
Queer sounds as I ever hearn floated in on them high yells, borne by the winds and the washin’ waves of ocean depths and the misty billows from Sleep Land, broken up some as they drifted and mixed with the billows of our own realm.
But daylight would always seem to calm down this tumult and bring more lusid and practical idees.
Wall, the time come when we tottered up on deck, two pale, thin figgers, to be confronted by other faces that wuz as wan, and some that wuz wanner.
WE TOTTERED UP ON DECK, TWO PALE, THIN FIGGERS.
But after these days we begun to feel first-rate. Alice and Adrian had had a hard time of it, so I had learned before from the stewardess. And I’d sent ’em lovin’ messages time and agin, and they me.
Martin, I don’t believe, had a minute’s sickness, nor Al Faizi. They both seemed to be real chipper; though they both seemed to be perfect strangers to each other; and I spoze they wuz and will be to all eternity—even if they wuz settin’ on the same seat on high.
Their two souls hain’t made right to ever be intimate with each other.