A Voyage Of Consolation by Sara Jeannette Duncan (rm book recommendations .txt) π
Poppa Says I Ought Not To Feel That Way About It--That He Might Just As
Well Be Shy About Referring To The Baking Soda That He Himself
Invented--But I Do, And It Is With Every Apology That I Mention It.
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- Author: Sara Jeannette Duncan
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Bawlinbuttons Stopped Short, Petrified By Poppa, Who Had Advanced And
Was Holding Out Copper Coins Whose Usefulness We Had Left Behind Us, To
The Value Of About Fifteen Cents.
"Here'S The Collection," Said Poppa Benevolently--For An Instant Or Two
He Was Quite Audible--"But Unless You Know Some Other Tune The Company
Wish Me To Say That They Won'T Trouble You Any Further."
There Are Misunderstandings That Are Never Rectified, Sometimes Because
A Train Draws Up At The Platform As In This Case, And Sometimes For
Other Reasons, And It Was Natural Enough That Poppa Should Fail To
Comprehend Bawlinbuttons' Indignant Shouts To The Effect That A Kaiser
Should Never Be Mistaken For An Organ-Grinder, Merely Because His Tastes
Are Musical. Neither Is It Likely That The Various Teutons Who Were
Waiting For The Information Will Ever Understand Why The Announcement
That The Train For Saarburg, Nancy, Frankfort, And Mayence Would Leave
At Ten O'Clock Precisely Was Never Completed For The Third Time,
According To The Regulation. But We Have Often Wondered Since What
Bawlinbuttons Did With The Coppers.
We Divided Up On The Way To Mayence, And Mr. And Mrs. Malt Came Into
The Compartment With The Senator, Momma, And Me. Mr. Malt Was
Unsatisfied With Poppa'S Revenge On Bawlinbuttons, And Proposed To Make
Things Awkward Further For The Guard. He Said It Could Be Done Very
Simply, By A Disagreement Between Himself And The Senator As To Whether
The Windows Should Be Open Or Shut. He Said He Had Heard Of A German
Guard Put To The Most Enjoyable Misery By Such A Dispute, Not Knowing
The Language Of The Disputants And Being Forced To Arbitrate Upon Their
Respective Demands. Mr. Malt Had Laughed At The Senator'S Joke, So The
Senator, Of Course, Had To Assist At Mr. Malt'S, And They Began To Work
Themselves Up, As Mr. Malt Said, Into The Spirit Of It. Mr. Malt Was To
Insist That The Windows Should Be Shut, He Said He _Had_ Got A Trifling
Cold, And The Senator Was To Require Them Open In The Interests Of
Ventilation. They Rehearsed Their Arguments, And Momma Putting Her Head
Out Of The Window At The First Small Station Cried, "Be Quick And Change
Your Expressions--He'S Coming!"
In The Presence Of The Guard Mr. Malt Rose With Dignity And Closed The
Windows. The Senator, With A Well-Simulated Scowl, At Once Opened Them
Both.
"Stranger!" Said Mr. Malt, While Momma Fumbled For Her Ticket, "I Shut
Those Windows."
"Sir," Responded Poppa, "If You Had Not Done So I Shouldn'T Have Been
Obliged To Open Them."
"I Can'T Die Of Pneumonia, Sir," Said Mr. Malt, Again Closing The
Window, "To Oblige _You_."
"Nor Do I Feel Compelled," Returned The Senator Furiously, "To
Asphyxiate My Family To Make It Comfortable For You!" And The Window
Fell With A Bang.
The Guard, Holding Out A Massive Hand For My Ticket, Took No Notice
Whatever.
"Put It Up Again," Said Mrs. Malt, Who Was More Anxious Than Any Of Us
To Avenge Herself Upon The German Railway System, "And Try To Break The
Glass."
"Attract His Attention, Alexander," Said Momma. "Pull One Of His Silly
Buttons Off."
The Guard Gave No Sign--He Was Replacing The Elastic Round My Book Of
Coupons After Detaching The Green One On Which Was Printed, "Strasburg
Nach Mainz."
Poppa And Mr. Malt Were Sitting Opposite Each Other In The Middle Of
The Carriage.
"I Tell You I'Ve Got Bronchial Trouble, And I Won'T Be Manslaughtered,"
Cried Mr. Malt, Hurling Himself Upon The Strap, While Poppa Seized The
Guard By The Arm And Pointed To The Closed Window. The Only Foreign
Language With Which Poppa Is Acquainted Is That Used By The Indians On
The Banks Of The Saguenay River, A Few Words Of Which He Acquired While
Salmon Fishing There Two Years Ago. These He Poured Forth Upon The
Guard--They Were The Only Ones That Occurred To Him, He Said--At The
Same Time Threatening With His Disengaged Fist Bodily Assault Upon Mr.
Malt.
"That Ought To Draw Him," Said Mrs. Malt.
It Did Draw Him.
"Leave Go!" He Said To Poppa, And His Air Of Authority Was Such That
Poppa Left Go. "Is This Here A Lunatic Party, Or A Young Menagerie, Or
What? Now Look Here," He Continued, Taking Mr. Malt By The Elbow And
Seating Him With Some Violence In a Corner Seat And Shutting The Window.
"If You'Ve Got Eight Tickets For Yourself Say So, If You Haven'T That'S
As Much An' More Than You Are Entitled To. The Other Gentleman----" But
The Senator Had Already Collapsed Into The Furthest Corner And Was
Looking Fixedly Through The Closed Glass. "Well, All I'Ve Got To Say
Is," He Went On, Lowering That Window With Decision, "That You Can'T Go
Kickin' Up Rows In This Country Same As You Do At Home, An' If You Can'T
Get Along More Satisfactory Together I'Ll----" Here Something Interrupted
Him, Requiring To Be Transferred From The Senator'S Hand To The Nearest
Convenient Pocket. "As I Was Goin' To Say, Gentlemen, There Isn'T Any What
You Might Call Strict Rule About The Windows, An' As Far As I'M Concerned,
You Can Settle It For Yourselves."
Whereupon He Swung Along To The Next Carriage, The Train Having Started,
And Left Us To Reflect On The Incongruity Of An English Railway Guard In
Germany.
It Was Curious, But The Incident Left Behind It A Certain Coolness, So
Well Defined That When Momma Suggested That The Malts' Window Should Be
Lowered As It Was Before To Give Us A Current Of Air, Mrs. Malt Said She
Thought It Would Be Better To Abide By The Decision Of The Guard, Now
That We Had Referred It To Him, And Momma Said, "Oh Dear Me, Yes," If
She Preferred To Do So, And Everybody Established The Most Aggressively
Private Relations With Books And Newspapers. It Was Quite A Relief When
Mrs. Portheris Came At The Next Station To Inquire Whether, If We Had No
Married Germans In Our Compartment, We Could Possibly Make Room For
Isabel. Mrs. Portheris Had Married Germans In Her Compartment, Two Pairs
Of Them, And She Could No Longer Permit Her Daughter To Observe Their
Behaviour. "They Obtrude Their Domestic Relations," Said Mrs. Portheris,
"In The Most Disgusting Way. They Are Continually Patting Each Other.
Quite Middle-Aged, Too! And Calling Each Other 'Leibchen,' And Other
Things Which May Be Worse. My Poor Isabel Is Dreadfully Embarrassed,
For, Of Course, She Can'T Always Look Out Of The Window. And As She
Understands The Language, I Can'T Possibly Tell _What_ She May
Overhear!"
We Made Room For Isabel, But The Train To Mayence Was Crowded That Day,
And Before We Arrived We Had Ample Reason To Believe That Conjugal
Affection Is Not Only At Home But Abroad In Germany. The Senator, At One
Point, Threatened To Travel On The Engine To Avoid It. He Used, I Think
The Language Of Exaggeration About It. He Said It Was The Most
Objectionable Article Made In Germany. But I Did Not Notice That Isabel
Devoted Herself At All Seriously To Looking Out Of The Window.
Chapter 27
"He Tells Me," Said Miss Callis, "That You Are To Give Him His Answer At
Cologne."
"Does He, Indeed?" Said I. We Were Floating Down The Rhine In The
Society Of Our Friends, Two Hundred And Fifty Other Floaters, And A
String Band. We Had Left The Battlements Of Bingen, And The Mouse Tower
Was In Sight. As We Had Already Acquired The Legend, And Were Sitting
Behind The Smoke Stack, There Was No Reason Why We Should Not Discuss
Mr. Mafferton.
"I Suppose He Does Not, By Any Chance, Mention An Alternative Lady," I
Said Carelessly.
"I Don'T Know," Said Miss Callis, "That I Should Be Disposed To Listen
To Him If He Did. He Would Have To Put It In Some Other Light."
"Why Should You Object?" I Asked. "Isabel Is Quite A Proper Person To
Marry Him. Much More So, I Often Think, Than I."
"Oh!" Said Miss Callis Without Meaning To. "I Think He Has Outgrown That
Taste. In Fact, He Told Me So."
"He Is For Ever Seeking A Fresh Bosom For A Confidence!" I Cried.
Miss Callis Looked At Me With More Interest Than She Would Have Wished
To Express.
"What Do You Really Think Of Him?" She Asked. "I Sometimes Feel As If I
Had Known You For Years," And She Took My Hand.
I Gave Hers A Gentle Pressure, And Edged A Little Nearer. "He Has Good
Shoulders," I Remarked Critically.
"You Would Hardly Marry Him For His _Shoulders_!"
"It Doesn'T Seem Quite Enough," I Admitted, "But Then--His Information
Is Always So Accurate."
"If You Think You Would Like Living With An Encyclopedia." Miss Callis
Had Begun To Look Embarrassed By My Hand, But I Still Permitted It To
Nestle Confidingly In Hers.
"He Pronounces All His G'S," I Said, "And--Did You Ever See Him In a
Silk Hat?"
"I Don'T Think You Are Really Attached To Him, Dear." (The "Dear" Was A
Really Creditable Sacrifice To The Situation.)
"I Sometimes Think," I Murmured, "That One Never Knows One'S Own Heart
Until Some Sudden Circumstance Puts It To The Test. Now If I Had A
Rival--In You, For Instance--And I Suddenly Saw Myself Losing--But, Of
Course, That Is Impossible So Far As You Are Concerned. Because Of The
Count."
"The Count Isn'T In It," Said Miss Callis Firmly. "At Least At Present."
"But," I Protested, "Somebody Must Provide For Him! I Was So Happy In
The Thought That You Had Undertaken It."
Miss Callis Gave Me Back My Hand. She Looked As If She Would Have Liked
To Throw It Overboard.
"As You Say," She Said, "It Is A Little Difficult To Make Up One'S Mind.
Don'T You Think Those Rocks To The Right May Be The Lorelei? I Must Go
And Tell Mrs. Malt. She Won'T Be Fit To Travel With For A Week If She
Misses The Lorelei." And Miss Callis Left Me To Reflect Upon The
Inconsistencies Of My Sex.
"Do You Realise," Said Dicky, As, With An Assumed Air Of Nonchalance, He
Sauntered Up And Took Her Chair, "That We Shall Be In cologne In Five
Hours?"
"Fateful Cologne," I Said. "There Are Roman Remains, I Believe, As Well
As The Cathedral And The Scent. Also A Museum Of Industrial Art, But
We'Ll Skip That."
"We'Ll Skip All Of It," Replied Mr. Dod, With Determination, "You And I
And Isabel. The Train For Paris Leaves At Nine Precisely."
"Haven'T You Made Up Your Minds To Let Me Off," I Pleaded. "I Am Sure
You Would Be Happier Alone. It'S So Unusual To Elope With Two Ladies."
"You Don'T Seem To Realise How Isabel Has Been Brought Up," Dicky
Returned Patiently. "She Can'T Travel Alone With Me, Don'T You See,
Until We Are Married. Afterwards She'Ll Chaperone You Back To Your Party
Again. So It Will Be All Right For _You_, Don'T You See?"
I Was Obliged To Say I Saw, And We Arranged The Details. We Would Reach
Cologne About Six, And Isabel And I, Who Would Share A Room As Usual,
Were Secretly To Pack One Bag Between Us, Which Dicky Would Smuggle Out
Of The Hotel And Send To The Station. Isabel Was To Be Fatigued And Dine
In Her Room; I Was To Leave The _Table D'Hote_ Early To Solace Her,
Dicky Was To Dine At A _Cafe_ And Meet Us At The Station. We Would Put
Out The Lights And Lock The Door Of The Apartment On Our Departure, And
The Chambermaid With Hot Water In The Morning Would Be The First To
Discover Our Flight. We Only Regretted That We Could Not Be There To See
The Astonishment Of The Chambermaid. "I Won'T Fail You," I Assured Mr.
Dod, "But What About Isabel? Isabel Is Essential; In Fact, I Won'T
Consent To This Elopement Without Her."
"Isabel," Said Dicky Dubiously, "Is All Right, So Far As Her Intentions
Go. But She'D Be The Better For A Little Stiffening. Would You Mind----"
I Groaned In Spirit, But Went In Search Of Isabel, Thinking Of Phrases
That Might Stiffen Her. I Found Her Looking Undecided, With A Pencil And
A Slip Of Paper.
"How Lucky You Are," I Said Diplomatically, Sinking Into The Nearest
Chair,
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