Following the Equator E-Book

Mark Twain

• Herausgeber: Andura Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

An unforgettable classic from the legendary and beloved American author, Mark Twain.

Das E-Book wird angeboten von und wurde mit folgenden Begriffen kategorisiert:

Leseprobe

Following the Equator

by Mark Twain

                               THIS BOOK

                     Is affectionately inscribed to

                            MY YOUNG FRIEND

                              HARRY ROGERS

                            WITH RECOGNITION

         OF WHAT HE IS, AND APPREHENSION OF WHAT HE MAY BECOME

              UNLESS HE FORM HIMSELF A LITTLE MORE CLOSELY

                           UPON THE MODEL OF

                              THE AUTHOR.

                         THE PUDD'NHEAD MAXIMS.

            THESE WISDOMS ARE FOR THE LURING OF YOUTH TOWARD

               HIGH MORAL ALTITUDES.  THE AUTHOR DID NOT

                  GATHER THEM FROM PRACTICE, BUT FROM

                   OBSERVATION.  TO BE GOOD IS NOBLE;

                         BUT TO SHOW OTHERS HOW

                          TO BE GOOD IS NOBLER

                            AND NO TROUBLE.

                                 CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

The Party--Across America to Vancouver--On Board the Warrimo--Steamer

Chairs--The Captain--Going Home under a Cloud--A Gritty Purser--The

Brightest Passenger--Remedy for Bad Habits--The Doctor and the Lumbago

--A Moral Pauper--Limited Smoking--Remittance-men.

CHAPTER II.

Change of Costume--Fish, Snake, and Boomerang Stories--Tests of Memory

--A Brahmin Expert--General Grant's Memory--A Delicately Improper Tale

CHAPTER III.

Honolulu--Reminiscences of the Sandwich Islands--King Liholiho and His

Royal Equipment--The Tabu--The Population of the Island--A Kanaka Diver

--Cholera at Honolulu--Honolulu; Past and Present--The Leper Colony

CHAPTER IV.

Leaving Honolulu--Flying-fish--Approaching the Equator--Why the Ship Went

Slow--The Front Yard of the Ship--Crossing the Equator--Horse Billiards

or Shovel Board--The Waterbury Watch--Washing Decks--Ship Painters--The

Great Meridian--The Loss of a Day--A Babe without a Birthday

CHAPTER V.

A lesson in Pronunciation--Reverence for Robert Burns--The Southern

Cross--Troublesome Constellations--Victoria for a Name--Islands on the

Map--Alofa and Fortuna--Recruiting for the Queensland Plantations

--Captain Warren's NoteBook--Recruiting not thoroughly Popular

CHAPTER VI.

Missionaries Obstruct Business--The Sugar Planter and the Kanaka--The

Planter's View--Civilizing the Kanaka--The Missionary's View--The Result

--Repentant Kanakas--Wrinkles--The Death Rate in Queensland

CHAPTER VII.

The  Fiji Islands--Suva--The Ship from Duluth--Going Ashore--Midwinter in

Fiji--Seeing the Governor--Why Fiji was Ceded to England--Old time

Fijians--Convicts among the Fijians--A Case Where Marriage was a Failure-

-

Immortality with Limitations

CHAPTER VIII.

A Wilderness of Islands--Two Men without a Country--A Naturalist from New

Zealand--The Fauna of Australasia--Animals, Insects, and Birds--The

Ornithorhynchus--Poetry and Plagiarism

CHAPTER IX.

Close to Australia--Porpoises at Night--Entrance to Sydney Harbor--The

Loss of the Duncan Dunbar--The Harbor--The City of Sydney--Spring-time in

Australia--The Climate--Information for Travelers--The Size of Australia

--A Dust-Storm and Hot Wind

CHAPTER X.

The  Discovery of Australia--Transportation of Convicts--Discipline

--English Laws, Ancient and Modern--Flogging Prisoners to Death--Arrival

of

Settlers--New South Wales Corps--Rum Currency--Intemperance Everywhere

--$100,000 for One Gallon of Rum--Development of the Country--Immense

Resources

CHAPTER XI.

Hospitality of English-speaking People--Writers and their Gratitude--Mr.

Gane and the Panegyrics--Population of Sydney An English City with

American Trimming--“Squatters”--Palaces and Sheep Kingdoms--Wool and

Mutton--Australians and Americans--Costermonger Pronunciation--England is

“Home”--Table Talk--English and Colonial Audiences 124

CHAPTER XII.

Mr. X., a Missionary--Why Christianity Makes Slow Progress in India--A

Large Dream--Hindoo Miracles and Legends--Sampson and Hanuman--The

Sandstone Ridge--Where are the Gates?

CHAPTER XIII.

Public Works in Australasia--Botanical Garden of Sydney--Four Special

Socialties--The Government House--A Governor and His Functions--The

Admiralty House--The Tour of the Harbor--Shark Fishing--Cecil Rhodes'

Shark and his First Fortune--Free Board for Sharks.

CHAPTER XIV.

Bad Health--To Melbourne by Rail--Maps Defective--The Colony of Victoria

--A Round-trip Ticket from Sydney--Change Cars, from Wide to Narrow

Gauge, a Peculiarity at Albury--Customs-fences--“My Word”--The Blue

Mountains--Rabbit Piles--Government R. R. Restaurants--Duchesses for

Waiters--“Sheep-dip”--Railroad Coffee--Things Seen and Not Seen

CHAPTER XV.

Wagga-Wagga--The Tichborne Claimant--A Stock Mystery--The Plan of the

Romance--The Realization--The Henry Bascom Mystery--Bascom Hall--The

Author's Death and Funeral

CHAPTER XVI.

Melbourne and its Attractions--The Melbourne Cup Races--Cup Day--Great

Crowds--Clothes Regardless of Cost--The Australian Larrikin--Is He Dead?

--Australian Hospitality--Melbourne Wool-brokers--The Museums--The

Palaces

--The Origin of Melbourne

CHAPTER XVII.

The British Empire--Its Exports and Imports--The Trade of Australia--To

Adelaide--Broken Hill Silver Mine--A Roundabout road--The Scrub and its

Possibilities for the Novelist--The Aboriginal Tracker--A Test Case--How

Does One Cow-Track Differ from Another?

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Gum Trees--Unsociable Trees--Gorse and Broom--A universal Defect--An

Adventurer--Wanted L200, got L20,000,000--A Vast Land Scheme--The

Smash-up--The Corpse Got Up and Danced--A Unique Business by One Man

--Buying the Kangaroo Skin--The Approach to Adelaide--Everything Comes to

Him who Waits--A Healthy Religious Atmosphere--What is the Matter with

the

Specter?

CHAPTER XIX.

The Botanical Gardens--Contributions from all Countries--The

Zoological Gardens of Adelaide--The Laughing Jackass--The Dingo--A

Misnamed Province--Telegraphing from Melbourne to San Francisco--A Mania

for Holidays--The Temperature--The Death Rate--Celebration of the

Reading of the Proclamation of 1836--Some old Settlers at the

Commemoration--Their Staying Powers--The Intelligence of the Aboriginal

--The Antiquity of the Boomerang

CHAPTER XX.

A Caller--A Talk about Old Times--The Fox Hunt--An Accurate Judgment of

an Idiot--How We Passed the Custom Officers in Italy

CHAPTER XXI.

The “Weet-Weet”--Keeping down the Population--Victoria--Killing the

Aboriginals--Pioneer Days in Queensland--Material for a Drama--The Bush

--Pudding with Arsenic--Revenge--A Right Spirit but a Wrong Method--Death

of

Donga Billy

CHAPTER XXII.

Continued Description of Aboriginals--Manly Qualities--Dodging Balls

--Feats of Spring--Jumping--Where the Kangaroo Learned its Art--Well

Digging--Endurance--Surgery--Artistic Abilities--Fennimore Cooper's Last

Chance--Australian Slang

CHAPTER XXIII.

To Horsham (Colony of Victoria)--Description of Horsham--At the Hotel

--Pepper Tree-The Agricultural College, Forty Pupils--High Temperature

--Width of Road in Chains, Perches, etc.--The Bird with a Forgettable

Name--The Magpie and the Lady--Fruit Trees--Soils--Sheep Shearing--To

Stawell

--Gold Mining Country--$75,000 per Month Income and able to Keep House

--Fine Grapes and Wine--The Dryest Community on Earth--The Three Sisters

--Gum Trees and Water

CHAPTER XXIV.

Road to Ballarat--The City--Great Gold Strike, 1851--Rush for Australia

--“Great Nuggets”--Taxation--Revolt and Victory--Peter Lalor and the

Eureka Stockade--“Pencil Mark”--Fine Statuary at Ballarat--Population

--Ballarat English

CHAPTER XXV.

Bound for Bendigo--The Priest at Castlemaine--Time Saved by Walking

--Description of Bendigo--A Valuable Nugget--Perseverence and Success

--Mr. Blank and His Influence--Conveyance of an Idea--I Had to Like the

Irishman--Corrigan Castle, and the Mark Twain Club--My Bascom Mystery

Solved

CHAPTER XXVI.

Where New Zealand Is--But Few Know--Things People Think They Know--The

Yale Professor and His Visitor from N. Z.

CHAPTER XXVII.

The South Pole Swell--Tasmania--Extermination of the Natives--The Picture

Proclamation--The Conciliator--The Formidable Sixteen

CHAPTER XXVIII.

When the Moment Comes the Man Appears--Why Ed. Jackson called on

Commodore Vanderbilt--Their Interview--Welcome to the Child of His Friend

--A Big Time but under Inspection--Sent on Important Business--A Visit to

the Boys on the Boat

CHAPTER XXIX:

Tasmania, Early Days--Description of the Town of Hobart--An Englishman's

Love of Home Surroundings--Neatest City on Earth--The Museum--A Parrot

with an Acquired Taste--Glass Arrow Beads--Refuge for the Indigent too

healthy

CHAPTER XXX.

Arrival at Bluff, N. Z.--Where the Rabbit Plague Began--The Natural Enemy

of the Rabbit--Dunedin--A Lovely Town--Visit to Dr. Hockin--His Museum

--A Liquified Caterpillar--The Unperfected Tape Worm--The Public Museum

and

Picture Gallery

CHAPTER XXXI.  The Express Train--“A Hell of a Hotel at Maryborough”

 --Clocks and Bells--Railroad Service.

CHAPTER XXXII.

Description of the Town of Christ Church--A Fine Museum--Jade-stone

Trinkets--The Great Moa--The First Maori in New Zealand--Women Voters

--“Person” in New Zealand Law Includes Woman--Taming an Ornithorhynchus

--A Voyage in the 'Flora' from Lyttelton--Cattle Stalls for Everybody

--A Wonderful Time.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The Town of Nelson--“The Mongatapu Murders,” the Great Event of the Town

--Burgess' Confession--Summit of Mount Eden--Rotorua and the Hot Lakes

and Geysers--Thermal Springs District--Kauri Gum--Tangariwa Mountains

CHAPTER XXXIV.

The Bay of Gisborne--Taking in Passengers by the Yard Arm--The Green

Ballarat Fly--False Teeth--From Napier to Hastings by the Ballarat Fly

Train--Kauri Trees--A Case of Mental Telegraphy

CHAPTER XXXV.

Fifty Miles in Four Hours--Comfortable Cars--Town of Wauganui--Plenty of

Maoris--On the Increase--Compliments to the Maoris--The Missionary Ways

all Wrong--The Tabu among the Maoris--A Mysterious Sign--Curious

War-monuments--Wellington

CHAPTER XXXVI.

The Poems of Mrs. Moore--The Sad Fate of William Upson--A Fellow Traveler

Imitating the Prince of Wales--A Would-be Dude--Arrival at Sydney

--Curious Town Names with Poem

CHAPTER XXXVII.

From Sydney for Ceylon--A Lascar Crew--A Fine Ship--Three Cats and a

Basket of Kittens--Dinner Conversations--Veuve Cliquot Wine--At Anchor in

King George's Sound Albany Harbor--More Cats--A Vulture on Board--Nearing

the Equator again--Dressing for Dinner--Ceylon, Hotel Bristol--Servant

Brampy--A Feminine Man--Japanese Jinriksha or Cart--Scenes in Ceylon--A

Missionary School--Insincerity of Clothes

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Steamer Rosetta to Bombay--Limes 14 cents a Barrel--Bombay, a Bewitching

City--Descriptions of People and Dress--Woman as a Road Decoration

--India, the Land of Dreams and Romance--Fourteen Porters to Carry

Baggage

--Correcting a Servant--Killing a Slave--Arranging a Bedroom--Three

Hours'

Work and a Terrible Racket--The Bird of Birds, the Indian Crow

CHAPTER XXXIX.

God Vishnu, 108 Names--Change of Titles or Hunting for an Heir--Bombay as

a Kaleidoscope--The Native's Man Servant--Servants' Recommendations--How

Manuel got his Name and his English--Satan--A Visit from God

CHAPTER XL.

The Government House at Malabar Point--Mansion of Kumar Shri Samatsin Hji

Bahadur--The Indian Princess--A Difficult Game--Wardrobe and Jewels

--Ceremonials--Decorations when Leaving--The Towers of Silence--A Funeral

CHAPTER XLI.

A Jain Temple--Mr. Roychand's Bungalow--A Decorated Six-Gun Prince--Human

Fireworks--European Dress, Past and Present--Complexions--Advantages with

the Zulu--Festivities at the Bungalow--Nautch Dancers--Entrance of the

Prince--Address to the Prince

CHAPTER XLII.

A Hindoo Betrothal, midnight, Sleepers on the ground, Home of the Bride

of Twelve Years Dressed as a Boy--Illumination--Nautch Girls--Imitating

Snakes--Later--Illuminated Porch Filled with Sleepers--The Plague

CHAPTER XLIII.

Murder Trial in Bombay--Confidence Swindlers--Some Specialities of India

--The Plague, Juggernaut, Suttee, etc.--Everything on Gigantic Scale

--India First in Everything--80 States, more Custom Houses than Cats--

Rich

Ground for Thug Society

CHAPTER XLIV.

Official Thug Book--Supplies for Traveling, Bedding, and other Freight--

Scene at

Railway Station--Making Way for White Man--Waiting Passengers, High and

Low Caste, Touch in the cars--Our Car--Beds made up--Dreaming of Thugs

--Baroda--Meet Friends--Indian Well--The Old Town--Narrow Streets--A Mad

Elephant

CHAPTER XLV.

Elephant Riding--Howdahs--The New Palace--The Prince's Excursion--Gold

and Silver Artillery--A Vice-royal Visit--Remarkable Dog--The Bench Show

--Augustin Daly's Back Door--Fakeer

CHAPTER XLVI.

The Thugs--Government Efforts to Exterminate them--Choking a Victim--A

Fakeer Spared--Thief Strangled

CHAPTER XLVII.

Thugs, Continued--Record of Murders--A Joy of Hunting and Killing Men

--Gordon Cumming--Killing an Elephant--Family Affection among Thugs

--Burial Places

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Starting for Allahabad--Lower Berths in Sleepers--Elderly Ladies have

Preference of Berths--An American Lady Takes One Anyhow--How Smythe Lost

his Berth--How He Got Even--The Suttee

CHAPTER XLIX.

Pyjamas--Day Scene in India--Clothed in a Turban and a Pocket

Handkerchief--Land Parceled Out--Established Village Servants--Witches in

Families--Hereditary Midwifery--Destruction of Girl Babies--Wedding

Display--Tiger-Persuader--Hailstorm Discouragers--The Tyranny of the

Sweeper--Elephant Driver--Water Carrier--Curious Rivers--Arrival at

Allahabad--English Quarter--Lecture Hall Like a Snowstorm--Private

Carriages--A Milliner--Early Morning--The Squatting Servant--A Religious

Fair

CHAPTER L.

On the Road to Benares--Dust and Waiting--The Bejeweled Crowd--A Native

Prince and his Guard--Zenana Lady--The Extremes of Fashion--The Hotel at

Benares--An Annex a Mile Away--Doors in India--The Peepul Tree--Warning

against Cold Baths--A Strange Fruit--Description of Benares--The

Beginning of Creation--Pilgrims to Benares--A Priest with a Good Business

Stand--Protestant Missionary--The Trinity Brahma, Shiva, and Vishnu

--Religion the Business at Benares

CHAPTER LI.

Benares a Religious Temple--A Guide for Pilgrims to Save Time in Securing

Salvation

CHAPTER LII.

A Curious Way to Secure Salvation--The Banks of the Ganges--Architecture

Represents Piety--A Trip on the River--Bathers and their Costumes

--Drinking the Water--A Scientific Test of the Nasty Purifier--Hindoo

Faith in the Ganges--A Cremation--Remembrances of the Suttee--All Life

Sacred Except Human Life--The Goddess Bhowanee, and the Sacrificers--

Sacred Monkeys--Ugly Idols Everywhere--Two White Minarets--A Great View

with a Monkey in it--A Picture on the Water

CHAPTER LIII.

Still in Benares--Another Living God--Why Things are Wonderful--Sri 108

Utterly Perfect--How He Came so--Our Visit to Sri--A Friendly Deity

Exchanging Autographs and Books--Sri's Pupil--An Interesting Man

--Reverence and Irreverence--Dancing in a Sepulchre

CHAPTER LIV.

Rail to Calcutta--Population--The “City of Palaces”--A Fluted

Candle-stick--Ochterlony--Newspaper Correspondence--Average Knowledge of

Countries--A Wrong Idea of Chicago--Calcutta and the Black Hole

--Description of the Horrors--Those Who Lived--The Botanical Gardens--The

Afternoon Turnout--Grand Review--Military Tournament--Excursion on the

Hoogly--The Museum--What Winter Means in Calcutta

CHAPTER LV

On the Road Again--Flannels in Order--Across Country--From Greenland's

Icy Mountain--Swapping Civilization--No Field women in India--How it is

in Other Countries--Canvas-covered Cars--The Tiger Country--My First Hunt

--Some Wild Elephants Get Away--The Plains of India--The Ghurkas--Women

for Pack-Horses--A Substitute for a Cab--Darjeeling--The Hotel--The

Highest Thing in the Himalayas--The Club--Kinchinjunga and Mt. Everest

--Thibetans--The Prayer Wheel--People Going to the Bazar

CHAPTER LVI.

On the Road Again--The Hand-Car--A Thirty-five-mile Slide--The Banyan

Tree--A Dramatic Performance--The Railroad Loop--The Half-way House--The

Brain Fever Bird--The Coppersmith Bird--Nightingales and Cue Owls

CHAPTER LVII.

India the Most Extraordinary Country on Earth--Nothing Forgotten--The

Land of Wonders--Annual Statistics Everywhere about Violence--Tiger vs.

Man--A Handsome Fight--Annual Man Killing and Tiger Killing--Other

Animals--Snakes--Insurance and Snake Tables--The Cobra Bite--Muzaffurpore

--Dinapore--A Train that Stopped for Gossip--Six Hours for Thirty-five

Miles--A Rupee to the Engineer--Ninety Miles an Hour--Again to Benares,

the Piety Hiv--To Lucknow

CHAPTER LVIII.

The Great Mutiny--The Massacre in Cawnpore--Terrible Scenes in Lucknow

--The Residency--The Siege

CHAPTER LIX.

A Visit to the Residency--Cawnpore--The Adjutant Bird and the Hindoo

Corpse--The Taj Mahal--The True Conception--The Ice Storm--True Gems

--Syrian Fountains--An Exaggerated Niagara

CHAPTER LX.

To Lahore--The Governor's Elephant--Taking a Ride--No Danger from

Collision--Rawal Pindi--Back to Delhi--An Orientalized Englishman

--Monkeys and the Paint-pot--Monkey Crying over my Note-book--Arrival at

Jeypore--In Rajputana--Watching Servants--The Jeypore Hotel--Our Old and

New Satan--Satan as a Liar--The Museum--A Street Show--Blocks of Houses

--A Religious Procession

CHAPTER LXI.

Methods in American Deaf and Dumb Asylums--Methods in the Public Schools

--A Letter from a Youth in Punjab--Highly Educated Service--A Damage to

the Country--A Little Book from Calcutta--Writing Poor English

--Embarrassed by a Beggar Girl--A Specimen Letter--An Application for

Employment--A Calcutta School Examination--Two Samples of

Literature

CHAPTER LXII.

Sail from Calcutta to Madras--Thence to Ceylon--Thence for  Mauritius

--The Indian Ocean--Our Captain's Peculiarity--The Scot Has One too--The

Flying-fish that Went Hunting in the Field--Fined for Smuggling--Lots of

Pets on Board--The Color of the Sea--The Most Important Member of

Nature's Family--The Captain's Story of Cold Weather--Omissions in the

Ship's Library--Washing Decks--Pyjamas on Deck--The Cat's Toilet--No

Interest in the Bulletin--Perfect Rest--The Milky Way and the Magellan

Clouds--Mauritius--Port Louis--A Hot Country--Under French Control

--A Variety of People and Complexions--Train to Curepipe--A Wonderful

Office-holder--The Wooden Peg Ornament--The Prominent Historical Event of

Mauritius--“Paul and Virginia”--One of Virginia's Wedding Gifts--Heaven

Copied after Mauritius--Early History of Mauritius--Quarantines

--Population of all Kinds--What the World Consists of--Where Russia and

Germany are--A Picture of Milan Cathedral--Newspapers--The Language--Best

Sugar in the World--Literature of Mauritius

CHAPTER LXIII.

Port Louis--Matches no Good--Good Roads--Death Notices--Why European

Nations Rob Each Other--What Immigrants to Mauritius Do--Population

--Labor Wages--The Camaron--The Palmiste and other Eatables--Monkeys--The

Cyclone of 1892--Mauritius a Sunday Landscape

CHAPTER LXIV.

The Steamer “Arundel Castle”--Poor Beds in Ships--The Beds in Noah's Ark

--Getting a Rest in Europe--Ship in Sight--Mozambique Channel--The

Engineer and the Band--Thackeray's “Madagascar”--Africanders Going Home

--Singing on the After Deck--An Out-of-Place Story--Dynamite Explosion in

Johannesburg--Entering Delagoa Bay--Ashore--A Hot Winter--Small Town--No

Sights--No Carriages--Working Women--Barnum's Purchase of Shakespeare's

Birthplace, Jumbo, and the Nelson Monument--Arrival at Durban

CHAPTER LXV.

Royal Hotel Durban--Bells that Did not Ring--Early Inquiries for Comforts

--Change of Temperature after Sunset--Rickhaws--The Hotel Chameleon

--Natives not out after the Bell--Preponderance of Blacks in Natal--Hair

Fashions in Natal--Zulus for Police--A Drive round the Berea--The Cactus

and other Trees--Religion a Vital Matter--Peculiar Views about Babies

--Zulu Kings--A Trappist Monastery--Transvaal Politics--Reasons why the

Trouble came About

CHAPTER LXVI.

Jameson over the Border--His Defeat and Capture--Sent to England for

Trial--Arrest of Citizens by the Boers--Commuted Sentences--Final Release

of all but Two--Interesting Days for a Stranger--Hard to Understand

Either Side--What the Reformers Expected to Accomplish--How They Proposed

to Do it--Testimonies a Year Later--A “Woman's Part”--The Truth of the

South African Situation--“Jameson's Ride”--A Poem

CHAPTER LXVII

Jameson's Raid--The Reform Committee's Difficult Task--Possible Plans

--Advice that Jameson Ought to Have--The War of 1881 and its Lessons

--Statistics of Losses of the Combatants--Jameson's Battles--Losses on

Both

Sides--The Military Errors--How the Warfare Should Have Been Carried on

to Be Successful

CHAPTER LXVIII.

Judicious Mr. Rhodes--What South Africa Consists of--Johannesburg--The

Gold Mines--The Heaven of American Engineers--What the Author Knows about

Mining--Description of the Boer--What Should be Expected of Him--What Was

A Dizzy Jump for Rhodes--Taxes--Rhodesian Method of Reducing Native

Population--Journeying in Cape Colony--The Cars--The Country--The

Weather--Tamed Blacks--Familiar Figures in King William's Town--Boer

Dress--Boer Country Life--Sleeping Accommodations--The Reformers in Boer

Prison--Torturing a Black Prisoner

CHAPTER LXIX.

An Absorbing Novelty--The Kimberley Diamond Mines--Discovery of Diamonds

--The Wronged Stranger--Where the Gems Are--A Judicious Change of

Boundary--Modern Machinery and Appliances--Thrilling Excitement in

Finding a Diamond--Testing a Diamond--Fences--Deep Mining by Natives in

the Compound--Stealing--Reward for the Biggest Diamond--A Fortune in

Wine--The Great Diamond--Office of the De Beer Co.--Sorting the Gems

--Cape Town--The Most Imposing Man in British Provinces--Various Reasons

for his Supremacy--How He Makes Friends

CONCLUSION.

Table Rock--Table Bay--The Castle--Government and Parliament--The Club

--Dutch Mansions and their Hospitality--Dr. John Barry and his Doings--On

the Ship Norman--Madeira--Arrived in Southampton

                          FOLLOWING THE EQUATOR

CHAPTER I.

A man may have no bad habits and have worse.

                             --Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.

The starting point of this lecturing-trip around the world was Paris,

where we had been living a year or two.

We sailed for America, and there made certain preparations.  This took

but little time.  Two members of my family elected to go with me.  Also a

carbuncle.  The dictionary says a carbuncle is a kind of jewel.  Humor is

out of place in a dictionary.

We started westward from New York in midsummer, with Major Pond to manage

the platform-business as far as the Pacific.  It was warm work, all the

way, and the last fortnight of it was suffocatingly smoky, for in Oregon

and British Columbia the forest fires were raging.  We had an added week

of smoke at the seaboard, where we were obliged to wait awhile for our

ship.

She had been getting herself ashore in the smoke, and she had to be

docked

And repaired. We sailed at last; and so ended a snail-paced march across

the continent, which had lasted forty days.

We moved westward about mid-afternoon over a rippled and sparkling summer

sea; an enticing sea, a clean and cool sea, and apparently a welcome sea

to all on board; it certainly was to me, after the distressful dustings

and smokings and swelterings of the past weeks.  The voyage would furnish

a three-weeks holiday, with hardly a break in it.  We had the whole

Pacific Ocean in

front of us, with nothing to do but do nothing and be comfortable.  The

city of Victoria was twinkling dim in the deep heart of her smoke-cloud,

and getting ready to vanish and now we closed the field-glasses and sat

down on our steamer chairs contented and at peace.  But they went to

wreck and ruin under us and brought us to shame before all the

passengers.  They had been furnished by the largest furniture-dealing

house in Victoria, and were worth a couple of farthings a dozen, though

they had cost us the price of honest chairs.  In the Pacific and Indian

Oceans one must still bring his own deck-chair on board or go without,

just as in the old forgotten Atlantic times--those Dark Ages of sea

travel.

Ours was a reasonably comfortable ship, with the customary sea-going fare

--plenty of good food furnished by the Deity and cooked by the devil.

The discipline observable on board was perhaps as good as it is anywhere

in the Pacific and Indian Oceans.  The ship was not very well arranged

for tropical service; but that is nothing, for this is the rule for ships

which ply in the tropics.  She had an over-supply of cockroaches, but

this is also the rule with ships doing business in the summer seas--at

least such as have been long in service.  Our young captain was a very

handsome man, tall and perfectly formed, the very figure to show up a

smart uniform's finest effects.  He was a man of the best intentions and

was polite and courteous even to courtliness.  There was a soft grace and

finish about his manners which made whatever place he happened to be in

seem for the moment a drawing room.  He avoided the smoking room.  He had

no vices.  He did not smoke or chew tobacco or take snuff; he did not

swear, or use slang or rude, or coarse, or indelicate language, or make

puns, or tell anecdotes, or laugh intemperately, or raise his voice above

the moderate pitch enjoined by the canons of good form. When he gave an

order, his manner modified it into a request.  After dinner he and his

officers joined the ladies and gentlemen in the ladies' saloon, and

shared in the singing and piano playing, and helped turn the music.  He

had a sweet and sympathetic tenor voice, and used it with taste and

effect. After the music he played whist there, always with the same

partner

and opponents, until the ladies' bedtime.  The electric lights burned

there

as late as the ladies and their friends might desire; but they were not

allowed to burn in the smoking-room after eleven.  There were many laws

on the ship's statute book of course; but so far as I could see, this and

one other were the only ones that were rigidly enforced.  The captain

explained that he enforced this one because his own cabin adjoined the

smoking-room, and the smell of tobacco smoke made him sick.  I did not

see how our smoke could reach him, for the smoking-room and his cabin

were on the upper deck, targets for all the winds that blew; and besides

there was no crack of communication between them, no opening of any sort

in the solid intervening bulkhead.  Still, to a delicate stomach even

imaginary smoke can convey damage.

The captain, with his gentle nature, his polish, his sweetness, his moral

and verbal purity, seemed pathetically out of place in his rude and

autocratic vocation.  It seemed another instance of the irony of fate.

He was going home under a cloud.  The passengers knew about his trouble,

and were sorry for him.  Approaching Vancouver through a narrow and

difficult passage densely befogged with smoke from the forest fires, he

had had the ill-luck to lose his bearings and get his ship on the rocks.

A matter like this would rank merely as an error with you and me; it

ranks as a crime with the directors of steamship companies.  The captain

had been tried by the Admiralty Court at Vancouver, and its verdict had

acquitted him of blame.  But that was insufficient comfort.  A sterner

court would examine the case in Sydney--the Court of Directors, the lords

of a company in whose ships the captain had served as mate a number of

years.  This was his first voyage as captain.

The officers of our ship were hearty and companionable young men, and

they entered into the general amusements and helped the passengers pass

the time.  Voyages in the Pacific and Indian Oceans are but pleasure

excursions for all hands.  Our purser was a young Scotchman who was

equipped with a grit that was remarkable.  He was an invalid, and looked

it, as far as his body was concerned, but illness could not subdue his

spirit.  He was full of life, and had a gay and capable tongue.  To all

appearances he was a sick man without being aware of it, for he did not

talk about his ailments, and his bearing and conduct were those of a

person in robust health; yet he was the prey, at intervals, of ghastly

sieges of pain in his heart.  These lasted many hours, and while the

attack continued he could neither sit nor lie.  In one instance he stood

on his feet twenty-four hours fighting for his life with these sharp

agonies, and yet was as full of life and cheer and activity

the next day as if nothing had happened.

The brightest passenger in the ship, and the most interesting and

felicitous talker, was a young Canadian who was not able to let the

whisky bottle alone. He was of a rich and powerful family, and could have

had a distinguished career and abundance of effective help toward it if

he could have conquered his appetite for drink; but he could not do it,

so his great equipment of talent was of no use to him. He had often taken

the pledge to drink no more, and was a good sample of what that sort of

unwisdom can do for a man--for a man with anything short of an iron will.

The system is wrong in two ways: it does not strike at the root of the

trouble, for one thing, and to make a pledge of any kind is to declare

war against nature; for a pledge is a chain that is always clanking and

reminding the wearer of it that he is not a free man.

I have said that the system does not strike at the root of the trouble,

and I venture to repeat that. The root is not the drinking, but the

desire to drink.  These are very different things.  The one merely

requires will--and a great deal of it, both as to bulk and staying

capacity--the other merely requires watchfulness--and for no long time.

The desire of course precedes the act, and should have one's first

attention; it can do but little good to refuse the act over and over

again, always leaving the desire unmolested, unconquered; the desire will

continue to assert itself, and will be almost sure to win in the long

run.  When the desire intrudes, it should be at once banished out of the

mind.  One should be on the watch for it all the time--otherwise it will

get in.  It must be taken in time and not allowed to get a lodgment.  A

desire constantly repulsed for a fortnight should die, then.  That should

cure the drinking habit.  The system of refusing the mere act of

drinking, and leaving the desire in full force, is unintelligent war

tactics, it seems to me.  I used to take pledges--and soon violate them.

My will was not strong, and I could not help it.  And then, to be tied in

any way naturally irks an otherwise free person and makes him chafe in

his bonds and want to get his liberty.  But when I finally ceased from

taking definite pledges, and merely resolved that I would kill an

injurious desire, but leave myself free to resume the desire and the

habit whenever I should choose to do so, I had no more trouble.  In five

days I drove out the desire to smoke and was not obliged to keep watch

after that; and I never experienced any strong desire to smoke again.  At

the end of a year and a quarter of idleness I began to write a book, and

presently found that the pen was strangely reluctant to go.  I tried a

smoke to see if that would help me out of the difficulty.  It did.  I

smoked eight or ten cigars and as many pipes a day for five months;

finished the book, and did not smoke again until a year had gone by and

another book had to be begun.

I can quit any of my nineteen injurious habits at any time, and without

discomfort or inconvenience.  I think that the Dr. Tanners and those

others who go forty days without eating do it by resolutely keeping out

the desire to eat, in the beginning, and that after a few hours the

desire is discouraged and comes no more.

Once I tried my scheme in a large medical way.  I had been confined to my

bed several days with lumbago.  My case refused to improve.  Finally the

doctor said,--

“My remedies have no fair chance.  Consider what they have to fight,

besides the lumbago.  You smoke extravagantly, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“You take coffee immoderately?”

“Yes.”

“And some tea?”

“Yes.”

“You eat all kinds of things that are dissatisfied with each other's

company?”

“Yes.”

“You drink two hot Scotches every night?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, there you see what I have to contend against.  We can't make

progress the way the matter stands.  You must make a reduction in these

things; you must cut down your consumption of them considerably for some

days.”

“I can't, doctor.”

“Why can't you.”

“I lack the will-power.  I can cut them off entirely, but I can't merely

moderate them.”

He said that that would answer, and said he would come around in

twenty-four hours and begin work again.  He was taken ill himself and

could not come; but I did not need him.  I cut off all those things for

two days and nights; in fact, I cut off all kinds of food, too, and all

drinks except water, and at the end of the forty-eight hours the lumbago

was discouraged and left me.  I was a well man; so I gave thanks and took

to those delicacies again.

It seemed a valuable medical course, and I recommended it to a lady.  She

had run down and down and down, and had at last reached a point where

medicines no longer had any helpful effect upon her.  I said I knew I

could put her upon her feet in a week.  It brightened her up, it filled

her with hope, and she said she would do everything I told her to do.  So

I said she must stop swearing and drinking, and smoking and eating for

four days, and then she would be all right again.  And it would have

happened just so, I know it; but she said she could not stop swearing,

and smoking, and drinking, because she had never done those things.  So

there it was.  She had neglected her habits, and hadn't any.  Now that

they would have come good, there were none in stock.  She had nothing to

fall back on.  She was a sinking vessel, with no freight in her to throw

overboard and lighten ship withal.  Why, even one or two little bad

habits

could have saved her, but she was just a moral pauper. When she could

have

acquired them she was dissuaded by her parents, who were ignorant people

though reared in the best society, and it was too late to begin now.  It

seemed such a pity; but there was no help for it.  These things ought to

be attended to while a person is young; otherwise, when age and disease

come, there is nothing effectual to fight them with.

When I was a youth I used to take all kinds of pledges, and do my best to

keep them, but I never could, because I didn't strike at the root of the

habit--the desire; I generally broke down within the month.  Once I tried

limiting a habit.  That worked tolerably well for a while.  I pledged

myself to smoke but one cigar a day.  I kept the cigar waiting until

bedtime, then I had a luxurious time with it.  But desire persecuted me

every day and all day long; so, within the week I found myself hunting

for larger cigars than I had been used to smoke; then larger ones still,

and still larger ones.  Within the fortnight I was getting cigars made

for me--on a yet larger pattern.  They still grew and grew in size.

Within the month my cigar had grown to such proportions that I could have

used it as a crutch.  It now seemed to me that a one-cigar limit was no

real protection to a person, so I knocked my pledge on the head and

resumed my liberty.

To go back to that young Canadian.  He was a “remittance man,” the first

one I had ever seen or heard of.  Passengers explained the term to me.

They said that dissipated ne'er-do-weels belonging to important families

in England and Canada were not cast off by their people while there was

any hope of reforming them, but when that last hope perished at last, the

ne'er-do-weel was sent abroad to get him out of the way.  He was shipped

off with just enough money in his pocket--no, in the purser's pocket--for

the needs of the voyage--and when he reached his destined port he would

find a remittance awaiting him there.  Not a large one, but just enough

to keep him a month.  A similar remittance would come monthly thereafter.

It was the remittance-man's custom to pay his month's board and lodging

straightway--a duty which his landlord did not allow him to forget--then

spree away the rest of his money in a single night, then brood and mope

and grieve in idleness till the next remittance came.  It is a pathetic

life.

We had other remittance-men on board, it was said.  At least they said

they were R. M.'s.  There were two.  But they did not resemble the

Canadian; they lacked his tidiness, and his brains, and his gentlemanly

ways, and his resolute spirit, and his humanities and generosities.  One

of them was a lad of nineteen or twenty, and he was a good deal of a

ruin, as to clothes, and morals, and general aspect.  He said he was a

scion of a ducal house in England, and had been shipped to Canada for the

house's relief, that he had fallen into trouble there, and was now being

shipped to Australia.  He said he had no title.  Beyond this remark he

was economical of the truth.  The first thing he did in Australia was to

get into the lockup, and the next thing he did was to proclaim himself an

earl in the police court in the morning and fail to prove it.

CHAPTER II.

When in doubt, tell the truth.

                                  --Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.

About four days out from Victoria we plunged into hot weather, and all

the male passengers put on white linen clothes.  One or two days later we

crossed the 25th parallel of north latitude, and then, by order, the

officers of the ship laid away their blue uniforms and came out in white

linen ones.  All the ladies were in white by this time.  This prevalence

of snowy costumes gave the promenade deck an invitingly cool, and

cheerful and picnicky aspect.

From my diary:

There are several sorts of ills in the world from which a person can

never escape altogether, let him journey as far as he will.  One escapes

from one breed of an ill only to encounter another breed of it.  We have

come far from the snake liar and the fish liar, and there was rest and

peace in the thought; but now we have reached the realm of the boomerang

liar, and sorrow is with us once more.  The first officer has seen a man

try to escape from his enemy by getting behind a tree; but the enemy sent

his boomerang sailing into the sky far above and beyond the tree; then it

turned, descended, and killed the man.  The Australian passenger has seen

this thing done to two men, behind two trees--and by the one arrow.  This

being received with a large silence that suggested doubt, he buttressed

it with the statement that his brother once saw the boomerang kill a bird

away off a hundred yards and bring it to the thrower.  But these are ills

which must be borne.  There is no other way.

The talk passed from the boomerang to dreams--usually a fruitful subject,

afloat or ashore--but this time the output was poor.  Then it passed to

instances of extraordinary memory--with better results.  Blind Tom, the

negro pianist, was spoken of, and it was said that he could accurately

play any piece of music, howsoever long and difficult, after hearing it

once; and that six months later he could accurately play it again,

without having touched it in the interval.  One of the most striking of

the stories told was furnished by a gentleman who had served on the staff

of the Viceroy of India.  He read the details from his note-book, and

explained that he had written them down, right after the consummation of

the incident which they described, because he thought that if he did not

put them down in black and white he might presently come to think he had

dreamed them or invented them.

The Viceroy was making a progress, and among the shows offered by the

Maharajah of Mysore for his entertainment was a memory-exhibition.

The Viceroy and thirty gentlemen of his suite sat in a row, and the

memory-expert, a high-caste Brahmin, was brought in and seated on the

floor in front of them.  He said he knew but two languages, the English

and his own, but would not exclude any foreign tongue from the tests to

be applied to his memory.  Then he laid before the assemblage his program

--a sufficiently extraordinary one.  He proposed that one gentleman

should give him one word of a foreign sentence, and tell him its place in

the sentence.  He was furnished with the French word 'est', and was told

it was second in a sentence of three words.  The next gentleman gave him

the German word 'verloren' and said it was the third in a sentence of

four words.  He asked the next gentleman for one detail in a sum in

addition; another for one detail in a sum of subtraction; others for

single details in mathematical problems of various kinds; he got them.

Intermediates gave him single words from sentences in Greek, Latin,

Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and other languages, and told him their

places in the sentences.  When at last everybody had furnished him a

single rag from a foreign sentence or a figure from a problem, he went

over the ground again, and got a second word and a second figure and was

told their places in the sentences and the sums; and so on and so on.  He

went over the ground again and again until he had collected all the parts

of the sums and all the parts of the sentences--and all in disorder, of

course, not in their proper rotation.  This had occupied two hours.

The Brahmin now sat silent and thinking, a while, then began and repeated

all the sentences, placing the words in their proper order, and untangled

the disordered arithmetical problems and gave accurate answers to them

all.

In the beginning he had asked the company to throw almonds at him during

the two hours, he to remember how many each gentleman had thrown; but

none were thrown, for the Viceroy said that the test would be a

sufficiently severe strain without adding that burden to it.

General Grant had a fine memory for all kinds of things, including even

names and faces, and I could have furnished an instance of it if I had

thought of it.  The first time I ever saw him was early in his first term

as President.  I had just arrived in Washington from the Pacific coast, a

stranger and wholly unknown to the public, and was passing the White

House one morning when I met a friend, a Senator from Nevada.  He asked

me if I would like to see the President.  I said I should be very glad;

so we entered.  I supposed that the President would be in the midst of a

crowd, and that I could look at him in peace and security from a

distance, as another stray cat might look at another king.  But it was in

the morning, and the Senator was using a privilege of his office which I

had not heard of--the privilege of intruding upon the Chief Magistrate's

working hours.  Before I knew it, the Senator and I were in the presence,

and there was none there but we three.  General Grant got slowly up from

his table, put his pen down, and stood before me with the iron expression

of a man who had not smiled for seven years, and was not intending to

smile for another seven.  He looked me steadily in the eyes--mine lost

confidence and fell.  I had never confronted a great man before, and was

in a miserable state of funk and inefficiency.  The Senator said:--

“Mr. President, may I have the privilege of introducing Mr. Clemens?”

The President gave my hand an unsympathetic wag and dropped it.  He did

not say a word but just stood.  In my trouble I could not think of

anything to say, I merely wanted to resign.  There was an awkward pause,

a dreary pause, a horrible pause.  Then I thought of something, and

looked up into that unyielding face, and said timidly:--

“Mr. President, I--I am embarrassed.  Are you?”

His face broke--just a little--a wee glimmer, the momentary flicker of a

summer-lightning smile, seven years ahead of time--and I was out and gone

as soon as it was.

Ten years passed away before I saw him the second time.  Meantime I was

become better known; and was one of the people appointed to respond to

toasts at the banquet given to General Grant in Chicago--by the Army of

the Tennessee when he came back from his tour around the world.  I

arrived late at night and got up late in the morning.  All the corridors

of the hotel were crowded with people waiting to get a glimpse of General

Grant when he should pass to the place whence he was to review the great

procession.  I worked my way by the suite of packed drawing-rooms, and at

the corner of the house I found a window open where there was a roomy

platform decorated with flags, and carpeted.  I stepped out on it, and

saw below me millions of people blocking all the streets, and other

millions caked together in all the windows and on all the house-tops

around.  These masses took me for General Grant, and broke into volcanic

explosions and cheers; but it was a good place to see the procession, and

I stayed.  Presently I heard the distant blare of military music, and far

up the street I saw the procession come in sight, cleaving its way

through the huzzaing multitudes, with Sheridan, the most martial

figure of the War, riding at its head in the dress uniform of a

Lieutenant-General.

And now General Grant, arm-in-arm with Major Carter Harrison, stepped out

on the platform, followed two and two by the badged and uniformed

reception committee.  General Grant was looking exactly as he had looked

upon that trying occasion of ten years before--all iron and bronze

self-possession.  Mr. Harrison came over and led me to the General and

formally introduced me.  Before I could put together the proper remark,

General Grant said--

“Mr. Clemens, I am not embarrassed.  Are you?”--and that little

seven-year smile twinkled across his face again.

Seventeen years have gone by since then, and to-day, in New York, the

streets are a crush of people who are there to honor the remains of the

great soldier as they pass to their final resting-place under the

monument; and the air is heavy with dirges and the boom of artillery, and

all the millions of America are thinking of the man who restored the

Union and the flag, and gave to democratic government a new lease of

life, and, as we may hope and do believe, a permanent place among the

beneficent institutions of men.

We had one game in the ship which was a good time-passer--at least it was

at night in the smoking-room when the men were getting freshened up from

the day's monotonies and dullnesses.  It was the completing of

non-complete stories.  That is to say, a man would tell all of a story

except the finish, then the others would try to supply the ending out of

their own invention.  When every one who wanted a chance had had it, the

man who had introduced the story would give it its original ending--then

you could take your choice.  Sometimes the new endings turned out to be

better than the old one.  But the story which called out the most

persistent and determined and ambitious effort was one which had no

ending, and so there was nothing to compare the new-made endings with.

The man who told it said he could furnish the particulars up to a certain

point only, because that was as much of the tale as he knew.  He had read

it in a volume of sketches twenty-five years ago, and was interrupted

before the end was reached.  He would give any one fifty dollars who

would finish the story to the satisfaction of a jury to be appointed by

ourselves.  We appointed a jury and wrestled with the tale.  We invented

plenty of endings, but the jury voted them all down.  The jury was right.

It was a tale which the author of it may possibly have completed

satisfactorily, and if he really had that good fortune I would like to

know what the ending was.  Any ordinary man will find that the story's

strength is in its middle, and that there is apparently no way to

transfer it to the close, where of course it ought to be.  In substance

the storiette was as follows:

John Brown, aged thirty-one, good, gentle, bashful, timid, lived in a

quiet village in Missouri.  He was superintendent of the Presbyterian

Sunday-school.  It was but a humble distinction; still, it was his only

official one, and he was modestly proud of it and was devoted to its work

and its interests.  The extreme kindliness of his nature was recognized

by all; in fact, people said that he was made entirely out of good

impulses and bashfulness; that he could always be counted upon for help

when it was needed, and for bashfulness both when it was needed and when

it wasn't.

Mary Taylor, twenty-three, modest, sweet, winning, and in character and

person beautiful, was all in all to him.  And he was very nearly all in

all to her.  She was wavering, his hopes were high.  Her mother had been

in opposition from the first.  But she was wavering, too; he could

see it.  She was being touched by his warm interest in her two

charity-proteges and by his contributions toward their support.  These

were two forlorn and aged sisters who lived in a log hut in a lonely

place up a cross road four miles from Mrs. Taylor's farm.  One of the

sisters was crazy, and sometimes a little violent, but not often.

At last the time seemed ripe for a final advance, and Brown gathered his

courage together and resolved to make it.  He would take along a

contribution of double the usual size, and win the mother over; with her

opposition annulled, the rest of the conquest would be sure and prompt.

He took to the road in the middle of a placid Sunday afternoon in the

soft Missourian summer, and he was equipped properly for his mission.  He

was clothed all in white linen, with a blue ribbon for a necktie, and he

had on dressy tight boots.  His horse and buggy were the finest that the

livery stable could furnish.  The lap robe was of white linen, it was

new, and it had a hand-worked border that could not be rivaled in that

region for beauty and elaboration.

When he was four miles out on the lonely road and was walking his horse

over a wooden bridge, his straw hat blew off and fell in the creek, and

floated down and lodged against a bar.  He did not quite know what to do.

He must have the hat, that was manifest; but how was he to get it?

Then he had an idea.  The roads were empty, nobody was stirring.  Yes, he

would risk it.  He led the horse to the roadside and set it to cropping

the grass; then he undressed and put his clothes in the buggy, petted the

horse a moment to secure its compassion and its loyalty, then hurried to

the stream.  He swam out and soon had the hat.  When he got to the top of

the bank the horse was gone!

His legs almost gave way under him.  The horse was walking leisurely

along the road.  Brown trotted after it, saying, “Whoa, whoa, there's a

good fellow;” but whenever he got near enough to chance a jump for the

buggy, the horse quickened its pace a little and defeated him.  And so

this went on, the naked man perishing with anxiety, and expecting every

moment to see people come in sight.  He tagged on and on, imploring the

horse, beseeching the horse, till he had left a mile behind him, and was

closing up on the Taylor premises; then at last he was successful, and

got into the buggy.  He flung on his shirt, his necktie, and his coat;

then reached for--but he was too late; he sat suddenly down and pulled up

the lap-robe, for he saw some one coming out of the gate--a woman; he

thought.  He wheeled the horse to the left, and struck briskly up the

cross-road.  It was perfectly straight, and exposed on both sides; but

there were woods and a sharp turn three miles ahead, and he was very

grateful when he got there.  As he passed around the turn he slowed down

to a walk, and reached for his tr---- too late again.

He had come upon Mrs. Enderby, Mrs.  Glossop, Mrs. Taylor, and Mary.

They were on foot, and seemed tired and excited.  They came at once to

the buggy and shook hands, and all spoke at once, and said eagerly and

earnestly, how glad they were that he was come, and how fortunate it was.

And Mrs. Enderby said, impressively:

“It looks like an accident, his coming at such a time; but let no one

profane it with such a name; he was sent--sent from on high.”

They were all moved, and Mrs. Glossop said in an awed voice:

“Sarah Enderby, you never said a truer word in your life.  This is no

accident, it is a special Providence.  He was sent.  He is an angel--an

angel as truly as ever angel was--an angel of deliverance.  I say angel,

Sarah Enderby, and will have no other word.  Don't let any one ever say

to me again, that there's no such thing as special Providences; for if

this isn't one, let them account for it that can.”

“I know it's so,” said Mrs. Taylor, fervently.  “John Brown, I could

worship you; I could go down on my knees to you.  Didn't something tell

you?--didn't you feel that you were sent?  I could kiss the hem of your

laprobe.”

He was not able to speak; he was helpless with shame and fright.  Mrs.

Taylor went on:

“Why, just look at it all around, Julia Glossop.  Any person can see the

hand of Providence in it.  Here at noon what do we see?  We see the smoke

rising.  I speak up and say, 'That's the Old People's cabin afire.'

Didn't I, Julia Glossop?”

“The very words you said, Nancy Taylor.  I was as close to you as I am

now, and I heard them.  You may have said hut instead of cabin, but in

substance it's the same.  And you were looking pale, too.”

“Pale?  I was that pale that if--why, you just compare it with this

laprobe.  Then the next thing I said was, 'Mary Taylor, tell the hired

man to rig up the team-we'll go to the rescue.'  And she said, 'Mother,

don't you know you told him he could drive to see his people, and stay

over Sunday?'  And it was just so.  I declare for it, I had forgotten it.

'Then,' said I, 'we'll go afoot.'  And go we did.  And found Sarah

Enderby on the road.”

“And we all went together,” said Mrs.  Enderby.  “And found the cabin set

fire to and burnt down by the crazy one, and the poor old things so old

and feeble that they couldn't go afoot.  And we got them to a shady place

and made them as comfortable as we could, and began to wonder which way

to turn to find some way to get them conveyed to Nancy Taylor's house.

And I spoke up and said--now what did I say?  Didn't I say, 'Providence

will provide'?”

“Why sure as you live, so you did!  I had forgotten it.”

“So had I,” said Mrs. Glossop and Mrs. Taylor; “but you certainly said

it.  Now wasn't that remarkable?”

“Yes, I said it.  And then we went to Mr. Moseley's, two miles, and all

of them were gone to the camp meeting over on Stony Fork; and then we

came all the way back, two miles, and then here, another mile--and

Providence has provided.  You see it yourselves.”

They gazed at each other awe-struck, and lifted their hands and said in

unison:

“It's per-fectly wonderful.”

“And then,” said Mrs.  Glossop, “what do you think we had better do---let

Mr. Brown drive the Old People to Nancy Taylor's one at a time, or put

both of them in the buggy, and him lead the horse?”

Brown gasped.

“Now, then, that's a question,” said Mrs.  Enderby.  “You see, we are all

tired out, and any way we fix it it's going to be difficult.  For if Mr.

Brown takes both of them, at least one of us must, go back to help him,

for he can't load them into the buggy by himself, and they so helpless.”

“That is so,” said Mrs. Taylor.  “It doesn't look-oh, how would this do?

--one of us drive there with Mr. Brown, and the rest of you go along to

my house and get things ready.  I'll go with him.  He and I together can

lift one of the Old People into the buggy; then drive her to my house

and----

“But who will take care of the other one?” said Mrs.  Enderby.  “We

musn't leave her there in the woods alone, you know--especially the crazy

one.  There and back is eight miles, you see.”

They had all been sitting on the grass beside the buggy for a while, now,

trying to rest their weary bodies.  They fell silent a moment or two, and

struggled in thought over the baffling situation; then Mrs. Enderby

brightened and said:

“I think I've got the idea, now.  You see, we can't walk any more.  Think

what we've done: four miles there, two to Moseley's, is six, then back to

here--nine miles since noon, and not a bite to eat; I declare I don't see

how we've done it; and as for me, I am just famishing.  Now, somebody's

got to go back, to help Mr. Brown--there's no getting around that; but

whoever goes has got to ride, not walk.  So my idea is this: one of us to

ride back with Mr. Brown, then ride to Nancy Taylor's house with one of

the Old People, leaving Mr. Brown to keep the other old one company, you

all to go now to Nancy's and rest and wait; then one of you drive back

and get the other one and drive her to Nancy's, and Mr. Brown walk.”

“Splendid!” they all cried.  “Oh, that will do--that will answer

perfectly.”  And they all said that Mrs.  Enderby had the best head for

planning, in the company; and they said that they wondered that they

hadn't thought of this simple plan themselves.  They hadn't meant to take

back the compliment, good simple souls, and didn't know they had done it.

After a consultation it was decided that Mrs. Enderby should drive back

with Brown, she being entitled to the distinction because she had

invented the plan.  Everything now being satisfactorily arranged and

settled, the ladies rose, relieved and happy, and brushed down their

gowns, and three of them started homeward; Mrs. Enderby set her foot on

the buggy-step and was about to climb in, when Brown found a remnant of

his voice and gasped out--

“Please Mrs. Enderby, call them back--I am very weak; I can't walk, I

can't, indeed.”

“Why, dear Mr. Brown!  You do look pale; I am ashamed of myself that I

didn't notice it sooner.  Come back-all of you!  Mr. Brown is not well.

Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Brown?--I'm real sorry.  Are you

in pain?”

“No, madam, only weak; I am not sick, but only just weak--lately; not

long, but just lately.”

The others came back, and poured out their sympathies and commiserations,

and were full of self-reproaches for not having noticed how pale he was.

And they at once struck out a new plan, and soon agreed that it was by

far the best of all.  They would all go to Nancy Taylor's house and see

to Brown's needs first.  He could lie on the sofa in the parlor, and

while Mrs. Taylor and Mary took care of him the other two ladies would

take the buggy and go and get one of the Old People, and leave one of

themselves with the other one, and----

By this time, without any solicitation, they were at the horse's head and

were beginning to turn him around.  The danger was imminent, but Brown

found his voice again and saved himself.  He said--

“But ladies, you are overlooking something which makes the plan

impracticable.  You see, if you bring one of them home, and one remains

behind with the other, there will be three persons there when one of you

comes back for that other, for some one must drive the buggy back, and

three can't come home in it.”

They all exclaimed, “Why, sure-ly, that is so!” and they were, all

perplexed again.

“Dear, dear, what can we do?” said Mrs.  Glossop; “it is the most

mixed-up thing that ever was.  The fox and the goose and the corn and

things--Oh, dear, they are nothing to it.”

They sat wearily down once more, to further torture their tormented heads

for a plan that would work.  Presently Mary offered a plan; it was her

first effort.  She said:

“I am young and strong, and am refreshed, now.  Take Mr. Brown to our

house, and give him help--you see how plainly he needs it.  I will go

back and take care of the Old People; I can be there in twenty minutes.

You can go on and do what you first started to do--wait on the main road

at our house until somebody comes along with a wagon; then send and bring

away the three of us.  You won't have to wait long; the farmers will soon

be coming back from town, now.  I will keep old Polly patient and cheered

up--the crazy one doesn't need it.”

This plan was discussed and accepted; it seemed the best that could be

done, in the circumstances, and the Old People must be getting

discouraged by this time.

Brown felt relieved, and was deeply thankful.  Let him once get to the

main road and he would find a way to escape.

Then Mrs. Taylor said:

“The evening chill will be coming on, pretty soon, and those poor old

burnt-out things will need some kind of covering.  Take the lap-robe with

you, dear.”

“Very well, Mother, I will.”

She stepped to the buggy and put out her hand to take it----

That was the end of the tale.  The passenger who told it said that when

he read the story twenty-five years ago in a train he was interrupted at

that point--the train jumped off a bridge.

At first we thought we could finish the story quite easily, and we set to

work with confidence; but it soon began to appear that it was not a

simple thing, but difficult and baffling.  This was on account of Brown's

character--great generosity and kindliness, but complicated with unusual

shyness and diffidence, particularly in the presence of ladies.  There

was his love for Mary, in a hopeful state but not yet secure--just in a

condition, indeed, where its affair must be handled with great tact, and

no mistakes made, no offense given.  And there was the mother wavering,

half willing-by adroit and flawless diplomacy to be won over, now, or

perhaps never at all.  Also, there were the helpless Old People yonder in

the woods waiting-their fate and Brown's happiness to be determined by

what Brown should do within the next two seconds.  Mary was reaching for

the lap-robe; Brown must decide-there was no time to be lost.

Of course none but a happy ending of the story would be accepted by the

jury; the finish must find Brown in high credit with the ladies, his

behavior without blemish, his modesty unwounded, his character for self

sacrifice maintained, the Old People rescued through him, their

benefactor, all the party proud of him, happy in him, his praises on all

their tongues.

We tried to arrange this, but it was beset with persistent and

irreconcilable difficulties.  We saw that Brown's shyness would not allow

him to give up the lap-robe.  This would offend Mary and her mother; and

it would surprise the other ladies, partly because this stinginess toward

the suffering Old People would be out of character with Brown, and partly

because he was a special Providence and could not properly act so.  If

asked to explain his conduct, his shyness would not allow him to tell the