MSMAK 1.1 i JLZ UL 1 GOUVWNEUR Ellen and Mr. Man M. Carriere Ellen and Mr. Man BY GOUVERNEUR MORRIS AUTHOR OF "TOM BEAULING," "ALADDIN O BRIEN," ETC. NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1904 013 Copyright, 1904, by THE CENTURY Co. Published October, 1904 THE DEVINNE PRESS TO ISABELLA AND HERBERT HARRIMAN IN WHOSE HOUSE AT AIKEN I WROTE THIS STORY AND WAS VERY HAPPY LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS M. Carriere Frontispiece FACING PAGE He gathered his books together and came home 122 "But just one picture more," said madame . . 166 ELLEN AND MR. MAN ELLEN AND MR. MAN ROM eight o clock in the morn ing, when my father usually went to town, until the very un certain hour of that gentleman s return, I, Edward Holinshed III, did what I pleased. True, I was sometimes set lessons and sometimes heard to recite them, but more often not. From the time I could walk I was my own master. It was my own business if I got drowned, fell out of a tree and broke my neck, or improved my mind with reading. I learned to read, ly ing on my stomach behind the sofa in the parlor, out of a c-a-t-cat book at a very early age. Sometimes my father taught 3 ELLEN AND MR. MAN me a letter, sometimes the servant-girl did. For a long time the letters meant nothing and seemed very foolish things to be trou bled with, and then all of a sudden it actually happened all of a sudden, and I was lying on my stomach by the French window back of the sofa at the time they meant everything and I was able to read. Soon I could read fluently, and before I was ten I had read every book in the house and nearly all the bound magazines. It is fortunate that the books in the house were really worth-while books most of them, because I would have read anything. I would have read Quackenbosh s " Dis eases of the Eye and Ear " or Medico s " Obstetrics " if there had been nothing else, and it would not have been good for me. We had broken sets of Thackeray, Dickens, Scott, Cooper, Du Chaillu s first African book (the pale-blue one with a gilt gorilla breaking a musket on the back), the National Cyclopedia, fifty comedies and tragedies by Beaumont and Fletcher (that was rare reading), the " Divine Comedy " 4 ELLEN AND MR. MAN undone into English, an expurgated "Ara bian Nights," Bolton s " History of West- chester," and Baker s " Chronicle." There were, besides, books on surveying, gun nery, and ship-building, the which I did not understand, but read with fanatic zeal. Although I was my own master, it was many years before I ventured beyond the confines of the island on which I lived. It was a world proportioned to my tiny stature. I knew and understood it thor oughly. There was nothing in it that I feared in the daytime, except the two big staghounds that lived on the front porch of the big house. That was the tall, proud house of Mosquito Row, and had the most land about it and, except for the Holinshed sassafrases, the finest trees. It was a big pillared house with two front doors, one at each end of the fine high hall. They were both front doors, because they were exactly alike, and people were welcomed at either. There was beautiful armor in the hall, and harquebuses, and splendid trophies 5 ELLEN AND MR. MAN or swords, and rare tapestries ; but I found out all that later. In my infancy I knew only what the people who lived in the big house looked like, and with what feelings of terror the staghounds inspired me. The world beyond the island was a large and terrible place ; for years it did not even invite: half-way over the bridge I had been, and half-way over the causeway; no farther. I had thus ventured often, always to become terrified at the vastness of the beyond, and to return on swift, patter ing feet. Often I met strange people com ing to the island by the boulevard, and al ways I spoke to them politely and took off my cap. I do not know how I came by such ingenuous and pleasant manners, for I was never taught any. In books people were forever " accosting " other people, and probably that is why I did. I was particularly gracious to tramps, with which the county was infested, and feared them not at all. I would have tramps to lunch with me in the pantry when the ser- 6 ELLEN AND MR. MAN vant-girl was out. I would give them the best I knew, bread and butter spread with brown sugar (mm! mm!), and they never not one of them ever betrayed my hos pitality, or took anything that was not offered. And, oh, the pleasant man that a tramp is when you are doing him a favor and wishing him well from the bottom of your innocent heart! I was led astray by a butterfly. I was kind to tramps, but never to butterflies. I used to catch them and pin them in a box I had. The butterfly that led me astray was a yellow butterfly with long tails and black markings. I saw it from the win dow of my room making free with a red geranium that belonged to the Cotters. I slipped out on the tin roof, for it would not do to go down by the stairs and lose sight of the quarry, embraced a part of the veranda with arms and legs, slid, ripping my breeches nearly in two on the hammock hook, to the rail, and dropped to the ground. My butterfly-net happened to be lying where I had left it in the dandeliony grass. 7 ELLEN AND MR. MAN I snatched it up and started in pursuit of the yellow monster. Three times around the Cotters house I pursued the butterfly a very zealous Achilles after a very deb onair Hector., And then it led me a chase around my own house (where it found no flowers to refresh it), across the lawn (it needed mowing), down the maple-shaded road, past the public house of Mr. Arcu- larius, and over the bridge. So intent was the pursuit that I was hardly conscious of having crossed the bridge. Before my very eyes, almost within my grasp, flirted the beautiful creature of my desire, and within my breast beat no fear of unknown lands. Across the bridge and the cause way which complemented it, past the pub lic house of Mr. Blizzard and the four worm-eaten telegraph poles (that sang of unknown lands), was a breathless chase. There was no speck of green or odor of flower to tempt to rest and refreshment the fairy feet and well-curled proboscis of the butterfly those feet that could not muddy a tea-rose, and that proboscis 8 ELLEN AND MR. MAN (curled like the mainspring of a fairy s watch) down which nothing less sweet than honey ever passed. I, apparently, was the only thing that tempted the but terfly, and gigantic paradox it was the butterfly that tempted me. Presently it mounted high and turned to the right among the tree-tops of Pelham w r ood that place of cool colonnades, of dogwood and wild flowers, of moss and mystery. I scrambled up a steep rock, rolled over the stone wall that skirted the wood, padded through a bed of prickly- pears, and was after it. I saw the yellow flittings of it among the tender tree-tops; I saw it descend into an open glade and light upon a brier-rose so pink, so floppy, and so fresh. I stalked it as a hungry hunter might stalk the only specimen of game he was ever likely to see. I came within striking distance, swung the green net, and was eluded. The butterfly left the rose for the violet as many a better man has done and eluded me again. With each elusion my determination waxed 9 ELLEN AND MR. MAN with Cadieux (which was the name of a man), I might have said: " C est ici que je va finir cette campagne." I redoubled my efforts, became wily and astute, almost criminal, but without suc cess. The day began to wane, and we were still beating about the bush. Then suddenly we came to the other edge of Pelham wood a sharp rise, a stone wall, farm-buildings, and, beyond, rolling open land studded with great elms and willows, backed in turn by delicious woods, and a house covered with vines, and outbuild ings and gardens and lilacs in the middle ground. The butterfly flew over the wall, and I had climbed to its summit (stone walls had summits in those days), when, below me and to my right, a tremendous grunting arose. That was my first real fright in the \vorld. I forgot the butterfly and clung to the summit of the wall, and I think my heart stopped beating for a while. A medley of varicolored, broad, powerful backs wrinkled at my feet, blunt snouts tried to get me, and murderous 10 ELLEN AND MR. MAN gruntings shook the air. Slowly, for I had never seen a pig, reason and memory came to my aid. I reasoned that if they had not got me yet, they were not likely to get me, and remembered in the c-a-t- cat book a certain reassuring cut beneath which was written p-i-g, pig. The stone wall upon which I was perched formed the front of the sty, parallel walls built into this formed the sides, and the back was a kind of lean-to containing a trough. See ing these things,! lost fear, and, to revenge myself, proceeded to beat the pigs with the handle of my net and to inflict just chastisement upon them with stones. It is pleasant to annoy pigs, but one cannot do it forever, and soon I began to re-bethink me of the butterfly. It was waiting for me on a purple thistle. I de scended the wall and made after it. To my left was a great inclosure of barns and sheds. Swallows darted about it (for no reason that I could see), and kept disap pearing into dark shadowy places and ap pearing suddenly from them. A very old 1 1 ELLEN AND MR. MAN horse browsed by the side of the road, and a whole gaggle of white geese hissed at me. Then I entered the garden to the right of the vine-covered house. It was more like a paradise than a garden. I cannot describe it. I merely know that when you have mentioned everything that ought to be in a garden you have only begun to mention the things that were in that gar den. It was square, with a high brick wall on two sides, a low stone wall backed by big wild cherry-trees on the third, and on the fourth, the side toward the house, a hedge of wild roses, tamed and made to behave themselves. It was divided rect angularly by little gravel paths edged with box. In the center were two lilacs (veri table trees), one white and one lavender, in the fullest bloom, and up and down the paths were all manner of flowers, and the smells of lilac and sweet geranium and lemon-verbena. The butterfly having for the moment disappeared, I descried in the angle of the two brick walls a lump of 12 ELLEN AND MR. MAN what appeared to be gray paper and mud. It was indescribably fascinating, because it had a shape and yet not a shape, and because I had never seen anything like it before. So to ascertain more justly its fascinating properties, I gave it a tenta tive poke with the handle of my butterfly net, and was presently rushing down a path of the garden, howling. They stung me nine times three times on the right hand, twice on the left, and four times on the face. A strong, grimy hand arrested my flight and my howls. I looked through tears into a big, sandy, red face with a stubbly beard and blue eyes. "What s the matter?" " I m stung," I said. This must have been evident to the gar dener now that he looked at me. He scooped up some loam in his big, grimy hand, with its jet-edged, bitten nails, and spat darkly into it. When he had made mud he anointed the places of torment, and told me to let it stay until it dried. The 13 ELLEN AND MR. MAN mud was cool and there was an aromatic smell about it. " This," said the gardener, " will be a lesson to you not to go monkeying in other people s gardens. What may your name be? " " Nedward Holinshed," I said (for I thought that was the way to say it). The gardener pursed up his lips and whistled. " Then I guess I ve got nothing to say," he said. " Run along, enjoy yourself, make yourself free of the garden, only don t pick flowers and don t get stung. Maybe," he said, and he smiled a smile that may have been satirical, " if you go up to the house the old gentleman will give you a stick of candy." It was wonderful to me to find my name so well known and so influential in that far country, and wonderful to think of the stick of candy which the old gentleman was perhaps dying to give me. Nevertheless, I approached the house from the rear and not without misgivings. 14 II i HE house was a kind of contra diction to the air of opulence ad vanced by the garden, the well- trimmed lawns, and the handsome orchard lands. It was quite small, but in the most charming manner of the colonial Dutch. The front and rear of the house were white-pillared verandas, verdant and odorous with vines, rose and honeysuckle. The roof of the house flowed by lovely curves and rested (with a slight projec tion) on the voluted capitals of the ve randa columns. At either side of the house were flat, wide brick chimneys that rose well above the highest point of the roof. The highest point of the roof was flat and oblong, like the bridge of a steamer, and an ornamental railing of white ran around it. For the rest, the house was painted the color of an old- 15 ELLEN AND MR. MAN fashioned yellow rose, and the shutters of it were white. You went in from either veranda, through doors that opened by halves or all together, as you pleased, and when you were inside But we are not. We are at present stealthily approach ing the house from the rear. Indeed, if you will believe it, we are lying flat on our stomach behind a flower-bed and listening to a piano for the first time in our life. The music comes sweetly out of the open windows that are to the right of the door that opens by halves, and the air that we are listening to is one that we have never forgotten, though it is to be years before we find out its name. It is an air made up of sunshine and sweetness and sadness ; it is as clear as honey and as golden as gold. It is by Mozart, and it is called La ci darem la mano " "Hand in Hand We 11 Wander." Perhaps we are listening to prophetic music. Who knows ? The sun is going down on the other side of the house, and we are lying on the long, cool shadows. The grass is turning damp, 16 ELLEN AND MR. MAN but we are not afraid of pneumonia or malaria. The piano has been modulating from one key to another, and now we are listening to a song. We have heard our maid-servant sing; we have heard our fa ther in his cups sing " Down on the Coast of New Barbarie-ie-ie " ; we ourselves, for we are only seven, have often sung songs without words, to tunes of our own mak ing; but now we are listening to real sing ingfor the first time real singing. Our trousers are torn, our feet are weary, our hands and face are swollen and covered with mud and tobacco-juice, but we do not mind that. There is a golden bar of sound, round and perfect, that is melting into our heart, and although we do not understand a word, we know that a cheerful person is unhappy and making the best of it. " A la claire fontaine M en allant promener, J ai trouver 1 eau si belle Que je m y suis baigne Lui a longtemps que je t aime, Jamais je ne t oublierais." 7 ELLEN AND MR. MAN It is quite a long song, and the accom paniment swings along evenly (with much repetition of one note, like a lullaby) ; but we have been magnetized by it, for we are kneeling by a window now, and our plain little swollen, freckled face is peering into a twilit room. We are being told (though we do not know it) that " J ai perdue ma maitresse Sans 1 avoir merite Pour un bouquet de roses Que je lui refusals." And the reiteration that " Lui a longtemps que je t aime, Jamais je ne t oublierais." And now we ought to be finding out (though \ve are not) what a brave heart was to the man who lost his mistress with out deserving to, for these are the words that are being sung to us, to an accompani ment that somehow has become humorous and gay : 18 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Je voudrais que la rose Fut encore au rosier, Et que le rosier meme Fut a la mer jete." That s what we heard as we peered into the room, but what did we see? We saw a girl with a thick braid of golden- brown hair that grew out of a glorious crown of the same and hung down below the bluest ribbon that gathered the fluffi est, floatiest white dress about her waist. Her back was to us, and she sat at the piano without affectation and made music. Now she has stopped. She has turned, and we are face to face. Her face was one that God had cut out of a rose. That is all there is to say about it. She came to the window. I saw that she was very tall. "Did you like the music, Mr. Man?" she said. She had mistaken me for a man ! I drank to her only with my eyes ; words failed. Why have you got those lumps of 19 ELLEN AND MR. MAN mud on your face, Mr. Man?" she said. " I was stung," I stuttered. " Mm," she said. Did you try to play with the hornets? I did once," she said, " and they stung me dreadfully ! " " They would n t sting you, would they?" I said. It passed belief. Who would have dared ! " Do you know, Mr. Man," she said, " I think it would be fun if we washed your face, don t you ? " " The gentleman in the garden put mud on my hands, too," I said. How I have squirmed when the red- handed maid at home has washed me, how I have thought murder when she got the soap in my eyes ! And here I was not only eager to have a certain person wash my face, but afraid lest she would not wash my hands as well. We went through the hall, hung with austere, badly painted portraits of ances tors, through the dining-room, very rich 20 ELLEN AND MR. MAN and dignified with old silver, mahogany, and better portraits, and presently, coat- less and sleeves rolled up, I was bending over the sink in the butler s pantry, being washed. Oh, the ecstasy of it! I have tried to keep clean ever since. No unneces sary scrubbing, no soap in the eyes! A grown cat would have let that girl wash him aye, with soap and purred his thanks. And now, behold, there are crisp cookies with anise-seeds within me, and I am beaming all over. " Mr. Man," said the girl, " suppose your mightiness tells me its name." I knew now that she had been making fun of me with her " Mr. Man," but I did not mind. I loved it. " My name is Nedward Holinshed," I said. What was there in that name to create such a stir first the man in the garden, now the girl in the house? Why did she go down on her knees before me with half a sob ? Why did she take the ragged, pitiful little creature that was I, and hold 21 ELLEN AND MR. MAN it hard against her breast? Why did she kiss me on the mouth, and why did tears come out of her glorious, fun-loving eyes, and wet her cheeks and mine ? Could any thing less than conception, labor, and the love of the first-born have so changed that young girl s face and given it the look that it now wore? Was pity hand in glove with love, and did she love me as a mother loves her child ? I think it was almost that, for I was her brother s son. We sat out the long summer twilight in the room where the piano w r as; we heard the tree-toads piping and the crickets fid dling ; we smelled the roses and honeysuck les and we waited for the family. My aunt Ellen put her arm around me, and she made me (she did not have to do much making) put mine around her. " Mr. Man," she said, " if I had ever realized, but I never did ! You and I are both too young to understand things, but your father, dear, and mine quarreled, a long time ago, and that s why we ve never seen each other; but I m going to 22 ELLEN AND MR. MAN change it all, if I can. You see, dear, I never realized before, and and you must forgive me." What did they quarrel about? " I said. We are not old enough to talk about that," said my aunt Ellen, " and we must never try to find out who was right and who was wrong. We must have faith in the people that belong to us and that s all." Don t my father and your father ever speak to each other? " said I. " No, dear; they they can t get on to gether, that s all. Some day we 11 under stand." My grandfather was coming up from town presently with my two uncles and my other aunt. My grandfather was a very rich man, president of railroads and things, and my uncles helped him to be rich and hoped they would get it all when he died. My other aunt s name was Vio let; she was nearly three times as old as Ellen, and we are coming to her. Or, rather, they are all coming to us, for now 23 ELLEN AND MR. MAN there is a sound of wheels on gravel, and Ellen and I are standing in the hall hold ing hands. The first person to enter is Aunt Violet. Take a very thin old bird of the hawk family, deprive it of skin and feathers, and you have a picture of Aunt Violet. She was followed by the two uncles ; they were tall, thin men with hawk faces. Their father came last. He had a head and a beard like Neptune, and was of colossal size. What was so repulsive in his sons and eldest daughter was almost beautiful in him the strong hooked nose, the black, needling eyes, the haughty car riage, the deep lines of living and race. He looked a man of indomitable will, strong and violent. The uncles and aunt had entered, all talking at once with loud, rather well-bred, very arrogant voices. The grandfather entered in silence, and the floor-boards creaked under his great weight. Ellen and I advanced, holding hands. " Father," said Ellen, and she looked 24 ELLEN AND MR. MAN him straight in the eyes, " this is your grandson, Edward Holinshed." The three hawks turned their hard faces in my direction. My grandfather frowned, but did not look at me. " Is it? " he said. His voice, too, was very arrogant. " Tell him," he said, " not to come here any more." " Father," said Ellen, and she laid her free hand upon his shoulder, " this is your grandson; he has the same name as your self, and he has never done any harm to anybody. He is allowed to run wild ; there is no one to look after him or to care about him ; and he is fine and true right through, and he does n t know anything evil, and if by any chance you are looking for a de scendant to be proud of- Ellen s voice was growing a little scornful and arro gant. The upper half of the front door was open and made a black square of night be hind the old man. He turned and pointed to it with his beautiful great hand. 25 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Is he afraid to go home alone in the dark? " said he. "Edward," said Ellen, "tell your grandfather that you are only afraid of the darkness which is made up of pride, arrogance, and selfishness, coldness and greed. Tell him My grandfather turned without a word and strode off to his room, the door of which, black under the stairs, seemed like the mouth of a grizzly bear s cave. ;< Father s sunshine got so hot he could n t bear it," said Uncle Marston to Uncle Jefferson, and he winked at Aunt Violet. " Mr. Man," said Ellen, " suppose we leave these cold, sneering relatives of ours and go home." Uncle Jefferson raised his voice and called to his father. " Father," he said, " Ellen is thinking of taking Edward s child home; I think she would best not." " I forbid it," was the only answer. " Nobody will steal the child," said Aunt 26 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Violet, sweetly, with a glance at my swollen face and shabby clothes. " Father," called Ellen, and there was a choke in her voice, " may I go with him as far as the woods? " You may," came the laconic answer. And now we are out of that house, and we have gone hand in hand to the stone wall at the edge of the woods. We are both crying, and we are kissing each other good-by,. and Ellen is telling me not to be afraid, that everything will come right some day. And now I am facing the dark woods and I am sore afraid, with that terrible, bolting fear of the dark which is in little children. And now I have turned and waved farewell to that lovely girl lean ing over the wall, and she has waved to me. I will not let her know cost what it may that I am afraid. And now to the left are approaching dragons, and to the right lions and tigers and wild men. About and about is darkness, and my heart is nearly breaking with fear. What has happened ? The fear is all gone ! It is as if 27 ELLEN AND MR. MAN day had suddenly broken and flooded the wild-wood with light. My darling is singing to guide me on my way; now the voice is all golden and clear and loud and sweet, and now it falters (why does it falter?), and now it rises loud and clear again. She is singing that air I love with all my heart. She is singing " La ci darem la mano," " Hand in Hand We 11 Wander," and I am no longer afraid. , I have stumbled through the woods to the other side, and the singing is with me still. She told me to go straight home, and I dare not linger even a mo ment to hear the last of it. It is grow ing fainter fainter; I can hear only a note now and then, and now I hear the tide rushing under the bridge, and the faint singing becomes one with it and is gone. The door of Mr. Blizzard s public house is open; an oblong of light strikes from it across the road. I am passing through the light now. I hear voices, and as I scuttle past I catch a glimpse of my father and 28 ELLEN AND MR. MAN three other men gesticulating in knotty and loud debate. My father does not get up for breakfast. He is in his room, and one dare not make a noise for fear of troubling his poor sick head. 29 Ill |HEN my father heard of my visit he gave me a distinguished thrashing and did not speak to me for three days. But there must have been something devilish wrong with him, for even that did not put him into good humor. I think it must have been the fourth or fifth day of this silence that three things of importance happened. To begin with, our servant-girl was dis missed. When she left the house her face was redder than usual (for, oddly enough, she had wept at saying good-by to me), and she had upon her head a hat that looked like a feather duster with half the feathers broken down. She climbed into the front seat of the livery-stable trap (Mr. Victory himself held the ribbons), and snuffling and blowing her nose like 30 ELLEN AND MR. MAN twin trumpets, she passed down Mosquito Row and out of this narrative. The second thing of importance to hap pen was the fact of Edward Holinshed, Jr., breaking his silence. There goes Matilda," he said, and ex ecuted a cheerful shuffle with his feet. " Why does she have to go, father ? " I asked. My father regarded me gravely for some moments, and then he asked the strangest question. " Do you know anything about church mice, Edward ? " he said. " No, father," said I. And, forsooth, how should I, never having been to church ? " Nothing is definitely kno\vn about church mice," said my father, " except that they are desperately poor." " I did not know that," I said. My father took me by the hand and gave my arm a sudden playful wrench that brought the tears to my eyes. " Well, don t forget it," he said. ELLEN AND MR. MAN Then he put on his brown derby hat and strode off down the road. He had not been gone ten minutes when the most important thing of all happened : the postman, in his little back-tilting, two- wheeled cart, stopped before the door and blew his whistle. I ran out and gave him good morning. He returned the salute with distinguished consideration, selected some letters from a large bundle, and handed them to me. " For your father," he said. Thank you, sir," said I. " And this one," said he, holding out a square white envelop, " is for you" It was my first letter. Who could have written to me? The postman is gone, I am sitting on the front steps with the open letter in my hands, and still I do not know from whom it is nor what it is about. There is no one between two seas that reads print more easily than I, but the written word is Greek to me! I knew all the cooks in Mosquito Row, and nothing would have been easier than 32 ELLEN AND MR. MAN to run to one of them and get the letter read. But I was ashamed. I would rather have all the cooks in the world think (if they ever gave the matter a thought) that I could read writing than know the con tents of my all-important letter. Was it not joy enough in the world to have a let ter, even if one did n t know what it was about ? One thing was odd about that let ter: it had a gilt lion s head on the flap of the envelop and another at the begin ning of the sheet inside, and much did I wonder and rejoice. Happy as I was in its mere possession, I nevertheless desired greatly to have the letter read. It could not be satisfactorily done by anybody that I was ever likely to see again, and at last it occurred to me that a total stranger, preferably a tramp (a brotherhood to which I was used), could best do the trick. And so I went and, mustering courage, waited in ambush in the long daisied and buttercupped grass that skirted the boule vard. Usually plenty of people would have passed, but on this particular morn- 3 33 ELLEN AND MR. MAN ing not a person came by, to whom expo sure of ignorance would not have been an everlasting shame. At length it grew to be the middle of the day, and hunger compelled me home ; but there was no lunch prepared for me in the little dining-room, -for why? There goes Matilda," and I was obliged indeed, this first time it was something of a privilege to make free in the pantry. Butter there was and bread and brown sugar for the filling part, and for the dessert there were the contents of a round, flat tin box into which I had often been forbidden to pry. But now I pried "There goes Matilda " and found that the box was divided into com partments labeled, in gilt letters, cinna mon, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, etc. and was as empty as a hat! Back to the road, and the shadows are growing long, and the precious letter is still unread. And the stomach is so full of bread and butter and brown sugar that it is not quite happy. But now something is rais ing a dust a quarter of a mile up the road 34 ELLEN AND MR. MAN toward Bay Chester: there is a beautiful yellow cart approaching, drawn by a smart calico pony. There are two ladies on the seat; they are both in white. The one to the right sits much higher than the one to the left and holds the reins and the whip in a stylish and knowing manner. The lady on the left is leaning slightly forward and looking to the right toward my house as if she earnestly desired to see a partic ular something or somebody. Now she has caught sight of me in the long grass among the buttercups and daisies. She makes a gesture with her white-gloved hand, and speaks a word to the lady that sits so high. The reins are drawn in; the pony halts with protest and starts to striking the boulevard with his white fore foot. Prob ably he admires some dog and is trying to learn how to dig. As for me, I am in dan ger of going under the wheel and missing the kiss for which I am climbing. I do not miss it, however, and stand precari ously balanced on the little, square, rough- ened-iron step of the cart. 35 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Oh, Mr. Man," said my aunt Ellen, " why could n t you come to the party? " I looked very blank. " Mrs. Manners," said my aunt, " this is my nephew, Mr. Holinshed." I reached for my cap, and found that I was bareheaded. This embarrassed me tremendously. I hope you are very well, Mrs. Man ners," I said. The beautiful young woman showed a beautiful row of teeth and a dimple. I am very well, thank you," she said, " and only sorry that you did not get my note. My son Peter had his seventh birthday to-day, and we had a party for him, and a big cake with candles and prizes in it, and he was very disappointed that you could not come." I now knew the contents of my letter, and began a blush which was like to have consumed me. " Did n t you get the note, Mr. Man? " said my aunt Ellen. The tears started to my eyes, and I 36 ELLEN AND MR. MAN looked at her appealingly. And then and there I had my first example of the triple intuition which is said to be woman s. She understood. The whole miserable affair of the letter and the non-ability to read writing was as clear in her mind as it was in mine. And God bless her! it hurt her as much as it did me, and I saw that she was not going to give me away. I and my best friend were in league together against exposure. What I did not know was that Mrs. Manners had also under stood and, like the noble woman she was, had herself joined the anti-exposure league. " Suppose," she said, " that after I have taken your aunt home I come back to your house that is it, is it not?" She pointed with her whip, and I said that it was " and carry you over to my house for tea, and then you can spend the night, and we will send you home to-morrow?" I hesitated, not because I did not intend to accept the invitation, but because I did not know how to say how glad I was. 37 ELLEN AND MR. MAN You can leave word for your father, you know," said my aunt. With whom should I leave word? It occurred to me that it was not proper that we should be without a servant. Yes, Aunt Ellen," I said, and blushed over my white lie. I would rather you left out the aunt," said my aunt, " and call me plain Ellen." "My dear," said Mrs. Manners, show ing her teeth and her dimple, " nobody could possibly call you plain Ellen." :t In future," said my aunt, with height ened color, " call me Ellen." I blushed over the happy privilege. "And now, dear Mr. Man," she said, " good-by," and she kissed me. " Good-by, Ellen," I said, and hopped from the step to the road. You be waiting for me," said Mrs. Manners, and she shook her whip at me playfully, and off they drove. How I scrubbed, and washed, and smoothed my rebellious hair, now dash ing to the window to see if Mrs. Manners 38 ELLEN AND MR. MAN was in sight, now dancing and singing for joy ! Perhaps I waited forty minutes. It seemed a month. She came. I rushed out to meet her. But where are your things? " she said. I had clean forgotten them, or rather I had never thought about them at all. "Never mind," she said; "jump in Peter has enough for you both." We crossed the causeway, and for the second time in my life I was in strange lands. It was to the left we turned between square stone posts into a long, winding lane with thick woods on each side, and big single trees, tulips and hickories and gums, that stood forth in the cropped grass that bordered the road, like officers in front of opposing armies. Then almost at the end of the lane we turned again to the left, be tween two round posts made of different- sized round stones with century-plants on the top, and entered that famous old es tate of the Manners Greenways. There were smart stables and lawns and big trees and sheep and a long lovely decline to 39 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the bay; and if I started to catalogue all the wonderful things that are as familiar to my remembrance as the face of friends, I should never get through. Peter and I have met. We are about the same size, only he is a beautiful child and I am not. He is dressed in a little suit of white flannels made like a man s long trousers, brown leather belt, little buck skin tennis-shoes, smart, white with pipe clay (he owns little trees to keep them in shape), a blue-and-white-striped shirt of cheviot, a blue tie, with a little gold dog- whip pin to ornament the same and keep it from slipping. His sleek brown hair is parted on the side like a grown man s (mine is a bang, hair-colored, and rather mussy), not a hair is out of place, and yet that perfect little gentleman is as embar rassed as I. We have shaken hands limply, we have eyed each other. We have not spoken. Presently Peter takes from his pocket a little gold trumpet about an inch long and puts it into my hand. 40 ELLEN AND MR. MAN : If," says he, with a fine blush, " you had come to my party, you would have got that in your slice of the cake for a present to keep." My heart is sinking to think what has been missed. I am for returning the trum pet; but I am not allowed to. I am in doubt as to whether I ought to kiss Peter or not. We have been shouting and playing Peter and his little brother Charles, a sol emn child of five, and I. The flannels that were so immaculate are stained with the grass, the blue necktie is awry. We have wrestled and run and shouted and chased the sheep. We have seen the beautiful guns in their glass cases in the gun-room. We have had supper and are going to bed. I am to sleep in Peter s room. It has gay paper: scarlet huntsmen leaping fences, ladies in high hats idem, floppy- eared dogs. In the opposite corners of the room are single beds. The room is wide. We cannot sleep so far apart ; we love each other too much. We have dragged the ELLEN AND MR. MAN mattresses from the beds and placed them tangent in the middle of the room. We have painted our faces and bodies with water-colors, we have blackened our eye brows and made us mustachios with burnt cork, we have danced about stark naked, and fought with towels and wet sponges until the pitcher is upset. We are quiet now, for we are aware that Charles s nurse is preparing for bed in the next room. We are caught trying to peer at her through the keyhole. We are threat ened with punishment and defiantly lock our doors in the face of justice. And now I am attired in the first set of pajamas I ever saw, and Peter is wearing the second. We are in our beds, but the gas is still burn ing. Peter has produced from somewhere a little paper box containing ten CUBEBS. We have smoked them all. We have liked them very much. IV E played out the drama among the branches of a big oak-tree that had had to be chopped down. A little white woolly puppy took the part of Cora; his brother was Alice, Peter was Chingachcook, Charles was Uncas (the bounding elk), and I myself was La Longue Carabine. We had to be other people from time to time as the plot unfolded : now Peter would be the swinish and loathsome Magua ; now Charles would be the frisky colt (belonging to David) that had to have its throat cut; and once the exigencies of the situation demanded that Alice should be Chingachcook dis guised as a beaver. Also the felled oak- tree at that time played many parts a cave, an open glade at the top of a wooded hill, a wood, the shores of a lake, the camp of the Hurons, the camp of the Delawares, 43 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Fort William Henry, and the graves of Uncas and Cora. Do, I beseech you, gentle savage, leave us to our atrocious distress ; go swim after the others and save your gentle person." Thus spoke the beautiful, woolly (I mean dark-haired) Cora though she got me to say it for her. And Uncas, one eye upon the seething caldron of waters at his feet, the other upon the fair speaker, an swered with his well-known heroism: "Untas ll tay." And now Uncas, invested with all the dignity of the nearly extinct Lenni- Lenape, is defying Magua in choice and dignified language: " Go back to thy traitor people, you black-hearted Huron dog, and when yon der sun is on the top of yonder pine-tree, prepare to meet thy doom." I hear a crow ! " taunts Magua, and slinks away into the forest. In every man s life there must have been one passage that was such fun that it 44 ELLEN AND MR. MAN is almost a poignant sorrow to recollect it. I loved that first night and- morning at Greenways so much that I can torture myself with thinking about it. There have been happy times; there will be happy times. I know that. These it is pleasant to look back upon and to anticipate. But the happiest time, the time that occurred only once, though there were many imi tations of it, the time that can never come again that is the time that it hurts to think about ! It was not long before I knew all the children in the neighborhood and was con stantly going to their houses. Indeed, if this had not been so I should have starved to death. For there were ten whole days when my father did not come home at all, and having devoured whatever was eata ble in the pantry, I sometimes had to stay my hunger with sassafras-leaves. I have never quite understood why the neighbors did not interfere. It must be that they were in real ignorance of our affairs. I became a nomad, wandering from house 45 ELLEN AND MR. MAN to house where there were children, spend ing whole days and sometimes nights, and God help me! continually advancing the comforts of my own home. I involved myself in the most disgraceful mesh of lies, for it seems that I must have been proud to the point of mania. Allen Hart had from his father a toy boat with sails that you could pull up and down, and two masts. Indeed? Well, my father had promised to drop into the store the very next day he had time and buy me a bigger boat, one with five masts and brass can nons. Walter Craig had been presented on his ninth birthday with a Flobart rifle. That was nothing. My father was think ing of buying me a double-barreled six- teen-guage shot-gun. Tom Abberlee was on a princely allowance of fifty cents a week. What ! That anything to be proud of? Why, that very morning my father (it was then the sixth day of his disap pearance) had given me a silver dollar. Where is it? Why (I am prepared for this emergency), it fell through a hole in 46 ELLEN AND MR. MAN my pocket. I show the hole. Am I not terribly mad at having lost my dollar? I am indifferent. My father will give me another whenever he is asked. How I lied to keep up appearances, and how des perately near to being caught and exposed I came at times ! It was quite de rigueur in those days for the child that had money to treat the other children at Mr. Scott s grocery-store, near the Bartow station. You could have your pick of many things, but animal crackers, elephants, tigers, lions, and rhinoceroses, and shoe-laces made of licorice were the most choice. You went at the animals like a discriminating surgeon with a knife. You lopped off a leg, then a nose, then another leg, until what had been, say, a stately elephant was nothing but a bitten round of cracker-stuff. Of course those crackers tasted in all parts exactly alike, and yet to this day, if I came across one, I could eat the legs and head with con siderable relish, and really feel snippy about the flavor of the rest. But give me 47 ELLEN AND MR. MAN shoe-laces! They were always my fancy: shiny, tough, and elastic. You took one end between your teeth, let go with your hands, and worked it, by little bites (you had to guard against biting too hard), all the way into your mouth, then (if I may so express it) you unbit it all the way out. I dare say this was a very nasty way of eating, but, by heaven, I can rec ommend it ! It would n t do for a duchess at a court dinner, but for humble people in private life mm! mm! Well, I had been treated so many times, without ever having treated back (for all my fine talk of money), that children s souls began to revolt within them. And I must say mine did too. So that when Walter Craig (a fat and selfish child) up and said point-blank that he was n t going to treat me any more (and he did n t rec ommend it to others, either) unless I treated back, matters reached a crisis. Far from being indignant (how could I be? my soul was sick), I said, with tear ful dignity, that the reason I never treated 48 ELLEN AND MR. MAN was because I always left my money at home, but that if anybody thought I had n t any money, he could say so, and be a dirty little liar; and if anybody thought I was stingy, well, let him wait where he was on the steps of Mr. Scott s store until I had time to go home (about three quarters of a mile), get my moneys, and come back, and then if any dirty little liar that said I had no money and thought I was stingy would eat all I would buy for him, he would burst. Walter Craig (that fat and selfish child), having learned the expression in his father s stable, gave back that he would wait for me until a certain place froze over. With that I started for home. My whole being was at sea with despair, and there was a buzzing in my ears. There was no way that I could think of in which I could raise as much as a dime. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and knew that Peter had left the other children to come with me. We went along in 49 ELLEN AND MR. MAN silence, and I began to evolve a plan by which I might get rid of Peter, and try to sell to Mr. Arcularius or Mr. Bliz zard the little gold trumpet (marked in little block letters 18 K.) that Peter had given me. " You need n t come with me, Peter," I said. " Neddy," said Peter, " I thought that perhaps you was out of money, and that if you was I could lend you some." Gratitude to the point of agony surged suddenly within me, and with equal sud denness my rebellious pride and high stomach had refused the offer. ; I ve got lots," I said, with an attempt to feign carelessness. We did not talk very much after that, for I was faint with the superintending calamity, utterly without invention, and possessed only of a vague desire to get rid of Peter and die. We had turned into Mosquito Row, when I heard my name called, and turn ing, beheld the postman in his little cart. 50 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " It s for you," the postman said, and waved a letter. I took it and thanked him like one in a trance, and put it into my pocket. There was no chord within me that could have responded to anything less pleasant than sudden riches or sudden death. I told Peter to wait in the hall till I ran up-stairs and got it. I locked myself- in my room. Something might yet be ef fected with the gold trumpet. I opened the drawer in which I had hidden it, and found that it was gone. I laid me on the bed, so utterly bowed down with shame and misery that I thought I should die. Some one tried the handle of the door, and then knocked. " Neddy can t you find it?" It was impossible to lie successfully any more. I knew it, and yet I lied. " Because, if you can t find it, I can lend you some." Peter," I wailed, " please go back and tell them I can t come because I m sick. ELLEN AND MR. MAN I ve got a sick-headache," I added, to for tify my invention. Peter did not speak for a moment, and when he did his voice was unexpectedly severe and censorious. ( I guess you better come and tell them yourself," he said. I rose from the bed and opened the door. Have you got it all right? " said Peter. " It s here," I said, slapping the pocket into which I had put the letter. " Let s see," said Peter. I showed him the envelop. " Is n t that the letter you just got? " " Oh, no ; it s the one I keep my money in." I had formed a vague notion of drop ping the envelop into the water as we crossed the bridge, and setting up a great wail over the loss of its contents. Some how, it is not quite pleasant to write these things about one s self even if one has changed one s ethics upside down, which I have n t, quite. Peter pinched the envelop. 52 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " It s paper money, is n t it? " he said. "How much?" " I forget," said I. Half-way over the bridge I made up my mind to the distressing accident that was to deprive me of means. But at the brink of the deed I balked. It was too barefaced too obvious. I resolved boldly to face the other children, tear open the envelop with eclat, and finding nothing in it, to laugh, call myself a donkey, and say that I had been such a fool as to fetch the wrong one. I am face to face with Walter Craig (that fat and selfish child). I have opened my envelop, and taken out a square of paper with " From ELLEN " on it in large hand-printing. I have also, some what to everybody s surprise, but more es pecially to my own, produced from the afore-mentioned envelop a ten-dollar bill. I have little comment to make about this episode in my life or its lesson, which seems to read: lie, and you will be re warded. It has occurred to me, however, 53 ELLEN AND MR. MAN that perhaps God disliked Walter Craig for being fat and selfish more than he did poor little me, who was trying to hold up my head and my father s before men, and whose only means of doing so (or the only means I knew) was lies lies lies. Any way, I lied and was rewarded, and Wal ter Craig was fat and selfish, and he was punished. Walter Craig had often eaten dried apricots, but he had never eaten enough. On this afternoon he did. It was a real pleasure to watch them go into him, and to hear the praises which he showered upon me. He ate steadily for upward of an hour, so that it was a pleasure to see. Then a great thirst began to consume him, and he drank four glasses of water and a bottle of ginger-ale. Then he began to swell. At first he complained of little pains in the region of his waistband they were just stitches in the side, he thought. Then he said he felt sick and thought he would go home. His face was white, and beads 54 ELLEN AND MR. MAN stood upon his forehead. Reaching the stoop of the store, his abdomen suddenly turned into a hard bowl of agony, and ad vised him to press his knees against his chin. This he did. Then he rolled, shrieked, and bellowed, for the fear of death and the pains of hell were in him. It took a doctor to keep Walter Craig s selfish life in his fat body, and when at length he rose from his bed of mortal agony and came out to play, we sympa thetic others greeted him with insulting cries of: "Glutton! Glutton! La-la-la!" 55 V WAS going on nine when my aunt Ellen reached her eigh teenth birthday and was for mally introduced to society. Late in the fall my grandfather and his family moved into the big town house on lower Fifth Avenue (it had been extensively im proved for Ellen s benefit), and began a magnificent series of" entertainments, dinners and balls and parties of all kinds, the more expensive the better, which were attended eagerly by the choice and master spirits of the age. But that is only an impression derived from the daily papers which Ellen kept sending. I suppose, really, that in those days society was no more choice or mas terly than it is to-day. Between the ages of eight and nine, however, I conceived it 56 ELLEN AND MR. MAN to be a kind of midwinter night s dream of diamonds and roses and wit. Indeed, it is more than possible that Ellen made it seem so to the most of her contemporaries. She had not been out a week before she was reported engaged to a Mr. Longfellow (no relation to the poet), and, oh, the agony I endured, and the spasms of jeal ousy I went through! She had not been out two weeks before that engagement was denied and another guessed at. That winter she was engaged nine times, and three times to the same man a Mr. Cra ven. If the newspapers drew Mr. Craven with any correctness, I knew him well. He came of an excellent family (of Cravens), and his mother was a Kerr. He had very little money, a fact which made the papers sad, for it seemed that a lavish and mag nificent spender was lost in him; but Ellen s fortune was to alleviate that fault and supplement the tall, dark gentleman s well-known wit and gallantry. Mr. Cra ven led all the germans; he gave his time and patience to wealthy hostesses who 57 ELLEN AND MR. MAN lacked imagination. He appeared in a new waistcoat, and a hundred orders for simi lar garments went at once to the most fashionable tailors. He w r as the only man in New York who knew how to tie a cra vat and roll an umbrella. He carried his handkerchief in his left sleeve, and had the family crest embroidered on his socks. He was the Petronius of his time; also he wrote verses, and was supposed to be one of the best croquet-players in the world. How lucky Ellen was to have such a man in tow and how I hated him! I took also a great interest in the much-heralded, sunned, timesed, and tri- buned doings of the Manners, and of other county people whose names were known to me; but the most interesting social career was that of a man whose faults were forgiven because of his vivac ity and wit, who was enrolled among those present at every function, save those given by my grandfather, and whose name was also mine. It seemed that my father was quite the lion; it seemed that he was bril- 58 ELLEN AND MR. MAN liant and distinguished and had written a book. It seemed that he had quarreled with my grandfather on purely ethical grounds, and, noble man, had forfeited a vast estate in consequence. It seemed that he had malice toward none, was polite, witty, urbane, and never so drunk (he was admittedly fast) as to disgrace himself or cause a tremor to the youngest maiden. It seemed that he was generous to a fault, the last to borrow, and the first to lend; that his dress was perfection, his face, save when lighted by that brilliant smile of his, affecting and sad. It seemed that the world had done him many a cruel wrong and been forgiven by his great heart. It seemed also that he was in a fair way to become one with Miss Leslie Carr, the Buffalo heiress. How I blushed for the wrong I had done my father ! I had supposed him cruel and unjust (most of the time), disgraceful (some of the time), and selfish (all of the time). I had been wrong, for had I not seen over and over again (and in print) 59 ELLEN AND MR. MAN that he was none of these things? How proud I was to learn that at an interna tional wedding the tactless mother of the bride had been so imbecile as to have my father and my grandfather placed in the same pew, and that (the observed of all ob servers, for the procession had not started) my grandfather had bowed slightly to his son and had received the cut direct! Spring came, and it seemed that my fa ther was usually to be seen driving in the park with Miss Carr (in her carriage). It seemed also that he had gotten hold of some money (this was direct observation), for we had now a maid-servant and a cook, and my father occasionally had people in to a meal. And I was even sent to New York with the maid-servant to buy a new supply of clothes, for I stood in great need of them. We got off the elevated at Fifty- ninth Street, walked across to Fifth Ave nue, and rang the bell of a big, square house, in front of which waited a victoria, two men on the box, and two fine bays. A good-natured young woman in black was in the hall (the door had been opened by a 60 ELLEN AND MR. MAN man in livery), and, except that she wore a chain of diamonds, one might have mis taken her for a very superior kind of ser vant. She was not over-tall, and rather stocky, with a fine skin, coloring, and even, white teeth. Her voice was well pitched, a little too brisk, and though she pro nounced words differently from Ellen (for instance), it was not unpleasant to hear. I am your father s friend, Miss Carr," she said ; " and he has asked me to help you buy some clothes." I simply blushed. " My, but you re a ragged child ! " she said. I guess your father neglects you don t he? " She said it as if it was the last thing she believed. " No, he don t," I said stoutly, and with some temper. She laughed. That s right," she said ; " you stand up for him. I do," she said. Then she spoke some words to the maid-servant who had brought me, took me by the hand, and we went out of the house. To my surprise, she made me hop into the beauti- 61 ELLEN AND MR. MAN ful victoria, and after telling the coachman (who touched his hat) where to go, she stepped in nimbly herself, and we started down the avenue. Miss Carr seemed to know everybody in New York. She was kept busy bowing and waving her hand, now to people in carriages, and now to pedestrians. Some times she would not be content with merely bowing, but would fling remarks after them. For instance, to a rather old girl and a very young man she called: "When s it goin to be announced?" and roared at her own facetiousness. To an oldish gentleman a perfect beau he was she waved her hand and shouted : " Billy Mclntosh, come and lunch with us at one-thirty." The old beau nodded, and smiled all over. To a pale young woman, driving by her self, she flung a kiss, and " You re white as a sheet ; take a rest." She drew smiles from everybody even from me. She was so brisk and good- natured that it was impossible to take of- 62 ELLEN AND MR. MAN fense, even when she said impossible things. I was so busy observing the sights, buildings, and shops, and policemen that I had not much mind for the people that passed. Suddenly Miss Carr gripped my arm. " There comes some one you know," she said. "Where?" " There walking with the tall chap." The gentleman with Ellen was over six feet high. He was slender and very straight. He wore a high hat and a long frock-coat; in the lapel of his coat were violets. His face was dark, pale, and well cut. He had a close-cropped mustache, and a whisp of a yellow bamboo cane. Miss Carr caught up her parasol and poked the coachman excitedly between the shoulders. " Stop on the left," she said. We drew up by the curb, and Miss Carr began to wave to my aunt. Ellen and the tall gentleman (hat in hand) came and stood by the victoria. 63 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Want you to see my new mash," said Miss Carr. I thought vaguely that she had in all probability caught her ringer in the hinge of a door, and was in the habit of doing so. I expected her to draw off her glove and show a blackened finger impelled by the same mental process that causes little boys to show their cuts and scars. " Are you on your way to the Little Church around the Corner ? " said the tall gentleman. " Well, first," said Miss Carr, " we are going to Trout s Liliputian Bazaar to buy our trousseau." " Are you sure," said the gentleman to Miss Carr, " that you are not throwing yourself away? " Miss Carr flushed (I thought angrily), and there was an awkward silence. Ellen had not spoken. Now she said gravely, but with her loveliest smile: " Leslie, I would n t want to see Mr. Man there in better hands than yours. I know you 11 always be good to him." 64 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " I could just squeeze you for that (how that girl s mind ran on mashing in all forms!), Ellen Holinshed," said Miss Carr, " and you bet I will be good to him." She gave me a tremendous hug. More mashing. " Mr. Man," said Ellen, " I want you to love Miss Carr very much and make her love you." " I will, Ellen," I said. They all laughed. " Well, don t get lost in the park," said Miss Carr. The tall gentleman s eyes met Ellen s. He smiled a little with the cor ners of his mouth. Ellen did not smile back. I was glad of that. Then every body said good-by. And Miss Carr, pok ing the coachman with her parasol, told him to drive on. We bought the greatest quantity of suits, underclothes, shirts, stockings, shoes, and cravats that you ever saw. In this world, of all mortal boys only Peter Manners had more. Miss Carr proved a shrewd manager. She knew exactly 65 ELLEN AND MR. MAN what things ought to cost, and if she thought an article high, would at once drive to another store, where an article of equal quality could be bought for less money. She talked familiarly with the clerks, scolded them, flattered them, and made the most taciturn laugh. The last place we visited was a jewel er s. Miss Carr asked to see gentlemen s dressing-cases, and was shown the most wonderful leather bags full of gold-topped bottles, ivory-handled brushes, razors, gold scissors, and things. At each one she turned up her nose and said : " Show me something handsomer." This," said the clerk, finally, " is the handsomest thing of the kind that has ever been made in America." " Sure they would n t tell me that about some other bag in some other store? " said Miss Carr. " Perfectly sure," said the clerk. " All right," said Miss Carr. " I 11 take it. I want you to make up a handsome monogram out of E. H., Jr., and mark all 66 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the pieces with it. When you get it done, send it to Mr. Edward Holinshed, Jr."; and she gave my father s address. The clerk wrote down the address, and we left the store. Miss Carr had not even asked the price of the handsomest bag in America. " Miss Carr," I said, as we drove up the avenue, " thank you very much for all you ve bought for me, and please will you tell me the gentleman s name with Ellen? " " That was Mr. Craven," said Miss Carr, " the man we think she s going to marry. Why?" I called to mind Mr. Craven s own words. " I hope," said I, " that she is not throw ing herself away, Miss Carr." 67 VI this time there were great changes for the better in my life in regard to mere physical cir cumstances. I was well clothed and well fed. It was no longer necessary to tell lies about my home. My father was certainly in funds, and it must be admitted that he was not backward about spending them. But for all that I was not happy. In the days when I had been hungry, lonely, rag ged, and neglected, my soul had at least been serene. But now there were things about which I found cause to worry. I thought that Ellen loved Mr. Craven bet ter (or rather differently) than she did me; and as for Miss Carr (and why I knew not, for she had been most kind), I feared her a little, even though bearing gifts. I think I must have been trembling 68 ELLEN AND MR. MAN for the old independence that looked so golden now that I was beginning to be hedged by respectability. My father had gone into strict train ing, and it had a fine effect upon his temper. He was up daily at six, walked and ran half a dozen miles before break fast, or swam about the bay for an hour. He played a great deal of tennis at the country club, of which he had become a member, had a brother of Mr. Arcu- larius (an ex-prize-fighter) frequently at the house to box with, and took long, furious paddles in a little wooden canoe that Miss Carr had given him. He drank nothing, smoked sparingly, and often made me his companion. Not infre quently, when the hot weather came, we rose at daybreak and paddled, in our bathing-suits, out to the Stepping Stone Light. There, my father, after a short rest, would leap overboard and swim lei surely home, while I followed in the canoe. The distance was something like three miles, and the exertion of getting that 69 ELLEN AND MR. MAN canoe home (until I got used to it) would nearly kill me. My father, on the other hand, would swim the whole distance with out apparent fatigue or loss of breath. The bay on those mornings was the calm est, sweetest sheet of water ever seen. There was never a sound but the splashing of my paddle, the swish of my father s swimming, and the hungry cawing of the early crows. Because my father was such a redoubtable swimmer, I soon became the envy of all the other children in the neigh borhood. As for me, I could not swim. But my father said he would teach me. This made me very proud. We had started one day for the Stepping Stone Light, when my father suddenly re called his promise. " Do you still want to learn to swim? " he asked suddenly, and stopped paddling. The canoe still maintained a rippling ad vance over the calm water. We were half a mile from shore. " Yes, dad," said I. The wish was father to the act. My 70 ELLEN AND MR. MAN father reached forward, picked me up by the neck in one of his powerful hands, and flung me overboard. Of course my mouth was open, and as I went down struggling, I took in a lot of brine. I rose to the sur face and saw the early morning around me in a ring. I heard the cawing of the early crows. The canoe was at some distance; my father was standing up in it, and had an interested expression on his face. Again the world disappeared to me, sink ing. I had less a feeling of fear because I was going to drown than of shame be cause I could not swim. I came to the surface for the second time. " Strike out swim! " called my father. My struggles redoubled, and I sank. Rising for the third time, I became aware suddenly that I was not going to sink again. There was no method that I know of in my mad struggles, but they kept my head stanchly above water. " Come back to the canoe," commanded my father. I headed for it, and somehow or other ELLEN AND MR. MAN paddled myself alongside. My father leaned over and drew me out of the water. I think from that moment he had a cer tain weakness for me. But there was no praise or compliment in what he said at the time. " Never," said my father, " say that you can t do a thing until you have tried it." It was from the Cotters float that we boarded Miss Carr s steam-launch, that was to take us up to Larchmont for a visit. You, child, shall have many pleasures in this world, but perhaps it may never be your lot to ride in a mahogany boat with a brass smoke-stack, and your own father at the wheel, two sailormen in white for him to give orders to, and a flag at stem and stern. Only one other thing can give you the pride of life and the full accom plishment of desire; that is, to ride in an engine and be allowed to open the throttle thereof with your own hand. 72 VII ISS CARR and her father were coming to dine. They were to run down from Larchmont in the launch, and go home by moonlight. There was no doubt that an engagement existed between Miss Carr and my father, for it had been announced formally at a large garden-party, and the wedding was set for the early autumn. The morning of the dinner day my father went to town. At leaving he asked me if there was any thing in the world I wanted. " A little sail-boat," I said. "What else?" " A little steam-boat." "What else?" " A little row-boat." "What else?" " A little gun." 73 ELLEN AND MR. MAN That s about all I can carry," said my father. And in the late afternoon I was possessed of these treasures. Half an our before dinner they looked as if they .iad been played with a long time. We sighted the Carrs launch, and went down to Mr. Cotter s float to help her make a landing. My father was grave and thoughtful. " Neddy," he said, " do you know that I am going to marry Miss Carr? " " Yes, dad." "Are you glad?" " Yes, dad." The launch was drawing near. " Remember, Neddy," said my father, but not unkindly, " that little children should be seen and not heard. Speak when you are spoken to." Miss Carr and my father were waving to each other. Mr. Carr made the landing in great shape. Mr. Carr was an elderly gray man with gold teeth. His financial career had been something of a miracle, for he was said 74 ELLEN AND MR. MAN to have taken the bread and butter from a hundred thousand families and turned it into cash. He was urbane and jaunty. : Had a nice run, Holinshed," he said; " new packing worked fine no waste." Miss Carr gave my father both hands and sprang none too lightly to the float. She kissed me, and called me hallo- old-chap. What were my toys doing in the front hall? I had put them carefully away. " Some of my boy s gear," said my fa ther, lightly, as if I had been possessed of many similar things. " Go and hide them, Neddy." When I came down-stairs the party were at dinner. And what a merry little dinner it was after the champagne had gone around twice ! The three grown-ups all talked and laughed at once, as if they had known each other for years, and only my father s big talk, and his guests swal lowing of it, proved the contrary. It seems that my father was thinking seri ously of being Minister to England, and 75 ELLEN AND MR. MAN of introducing Miss Carr and her fa ther to the Pope, whom he knew quite well, and with whom he had often lunched. I was to be sent to St. Paul s School and Harvard. And Mr. Carr, pawning his gold teeth if necessary, was to foot the bills. But nothing was said about this. I had been given a whole glass of cham pagne and was quite groggy. It seemed then perfectly natural that a woman in deep mourning, her face plowed with tears, should enter the dining-room lean ing on my grandfather s arm. I remem ber thinking that probably the sorrowful woman was a relative, and I half expected that my father (such was his hospitable mood) would offer her a glass of wine. He did nothing of the kind. He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. His face was white as linen. I think my grandfather felt sorry for him. " The woman," said my grandfather, in his deep, arrogant voice, " would come. I could not detain her by force, and ELLEN AND MR. MAN thought best to accompany her. She can or rather does speak for herself." My father made a tremendous effort to bluff. " Miss Carr," he said, " this lady wishes to speak to me will you excuse us for a few moments? " The woman went out with my father (who closed the door after him), and be gan to sob directly she was in the hall. " Mr. Carr," said my grandfather, fix ing a contemptuous glance upon the finan cier, " I am led to understand that your daughter is about to marry my son. He s a bad lot." I burst into tears at this utter condem nation of my male parent. " Don t do that ! " said my grandfather, sharply. Mr. Carr finished his glass of wine. " We don t judge hastily," said he. "Don t you?" said my grandfather, and that was all he said. It caused the pompous financier to shut up like a clam. But his daughter rose to her feet and 77 ELLEN AND MR. MAN faced my grandfather. Her eyes were glittering. " Mr. Holinshed," she said, " your son has been straight as a die since I ve known him. I believe in him, and I want you to be mighty careful what you say next." Miss Carr looked almost beautiful as she spoke. I am very sorry for you," said my grandfather. " He will explain away all this melo drama when he comes back," said Miss Carr. " Men of the world " began Mr. Carr, impressively. My grandfather wheeled on him like a great cat. " What did you say, sir? " he said. Mr. Carr looked much flustered, and was on the verge of blustering. " I said," he said loudly, " that men of the world" " Precisely, sir ! " thundered my grand father. 78 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Mr. Carr subsided, and presently reach ing in a furtive manner, he possessed him self of his daughter s glass of wine, which was untasted, and conveyed it so shak- ingly to his lips that some of it was spilled. " Miss Carr," said my grandfather, and in a voice beautiful with gentleness, " you cannot marry my son. I am very sorry for you." The wailing of the woman in the hall rose anew. My grandfather put out his hand as if he meant to lay it on Miss Carr s head. There was something truly pathetic in the gently meant and uncompleted act. 79 VIII S a result of the episode at the end of the last chapter, Miss Carr was saved from a great deal of subsequent misery, my father broke training, and I spent an exciting month trying to keep out of sight. I will not go into the details of my troubles at this time, but they were awful. I was afraid of my own shadow, and at mo ments feared for my life. Yet there was nobody that I could go to, for Ellen was at Bar Harbor, and death by the rod seemed preferable to exposing the family shame to any one else. My mother s fam ily, I knew, lived in Charleston, South Carolina, and I made up my mind that if it were in any way possible I would run away and go to them. It was the pic- 80 ELLEN AND MR. MAN ture of my maternal grandfather, which hung in the spare room, that persuaded me in this decision. Richard Chestleton, if his picture spoke truth, had the face of a white-mustached and white-goateed angel. I got out the map and looked up Charleston, hoping that it was not far. But it was. I asked the station-master what it would cost to go to Charleston. But I was astute about it, for first I asked him (and put it on the grounds of mere curiosity) how far Chicago was and how much it cost to get there, Bos ton, Buffalo, and other cities. I men tioned Charleston third from the last, and quite casually. The station-master named an impossible sum, and I turned away gasping. At that moment the up train whistled for Bartow, and I ran out on the plat form to see it come in. I have ever loved to look at a train. Three laborers with tin cans and a dapper gray gentle man got off. The gray gentleman seemed 6 8l ELLEN AND MR. MAN one used to command, and at the same time gentle. I knew this because he addressed a remark to the empty air, and the station-master and the baggage-mas ter, leaving their work and touching their caps, hastened up to answer and afford him any service in their power. That proved the gentleman s habit of com mand, and the absent-minded way in which he began to pat the head of a strange child (my head) proved his habit of gentleness. " I am expecting Mr. Holinshed s car riage," said the gentleman, " and I don t see it." ; It is n t here, sir," said the station- master. : It s likely to be any minute," said the baggage-master. " I could get a trap for you in ten min utes," said the station-master. " Never mind never mind," said the gentleman, all the while patting my head, and he looked at his watch. " How long a walk is it? " he asked. 82 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Ten minutes," said the baggage-mas ter. "Ten minutes," said the gentleman; " I think I can manage it. Perhaps this little man will be willing to show me the way." "That s Mr. Holinshed s grandson," said the station-master. " Poor Edward s boy," I heard the gen tleman murmur ; and aloud he said, " Will you show me the way to your grand father s?" I turned crimson; and I thought that a flash of amusement crossed the gentle man s face. I was thinking of how it would be possible to do the gentleman a favor, and at the same time avoid getting too near my grandfather s. The gentleman did not allow me to solve the problem. He simply took a firm hold of my hand, and I had to go. Where is your father ? " asked the gentleman presently. " At home," said I. "What is he doing?" 83 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " I don t know," I said; " he had n t got up when I left." The gentleman chuckled. "Where do you go to school?" he asked. " I don t go," said I. "Want to?" said he. " No," said I. He chuckled again. " Your grandfather s a very fine man," he said. " Yes, sir," said I. " I suppose you go there a great deal? " I stammered, and the gentleman chuckled. " I wish I were your age," said the gen tleman. " How hlessed to be a boy again ! " " Yes, sir," said I. " What do you do with yourself? " " Anything I like," said I. The gentleman sighed. " Who is your best friend? " he asked. " Peter Manners," said I. ( W r here does he live ? " " Across the bay." 84 ELLEN AND MR. MAN "Where do you live?" " At the head of the bay." " How many servants have you? " " Two." So he ran on, and by the time we were in sight of my grandfather s place, he knew a surprising, if superficial, amount about the neighborhood. " That s where my grandfather lives," said I, pointing; " all you have to do is to follow the road now." " So I see so I see," said the gentle man ; but he did not let go my hand. Nay, his grip tightened. You just go right on," said I, wrig gling to escape. But the gentleman would not let go. Indeed, he seemed nervous himself. At the gate I was in tears, at the front door frozen with terror. The gentleman rang the bell with his free hand, and pushing open the upper half of the door, looked eagerly into the darkish hall. Of the maid who answered his ring, he asked if Mr. Holinshed was in, and when she 85 ELLEN AND MR. MAN said that he was not, seemed relieved. But the maid went on to explain that Mr. Hol- inshed was in the garden. " Oh," said the gentleman, and wiped the sweat from his brow. The gentle man had become as nervous as I was. " Take me to the garden," he said to me; but half-way down the steps he halted and sat down. He remained for some moments sitting and thinking, and holding my hand. " I thought I could do it," he said; " but I can t. I never thought to lose my nerve like this, and it s sure to succeed, sure to succeed." To our mortal terror, we beheld my grandfather coming up from the garden. The gentleman of the commanding and gentle heart made a noise that sounded like a gulp, rose suddenly to his feet, and, with one final galvanic clutch of my hand, made off as if people had started to shoot at him. I was thrown violently to my face in the gravel road and lay wriggling and half stunned. It was my grandfa- 86 ELLEN AND MR. MAN ther who picked me up and set me back on the step. " He took hold of my hand and made me come," I said. Why did he make you come ? " said my grandfather. " I don t know," said I, all of a tremble. I don t know even why he had to come and go away so quick." " I despise a coward," said my grand father. I fell to shaking anew. That man," said my grandfather, " came to ask me for money. . . . Do you know the difference between a beggar, a maniac, and an inventor? " he asked. " No, sir," said I. There is n t any difference," said my grandfather. He seemed to be in a good humor with himself, and I thought to escape. " I think I d better go now," I said. Like some candy to eat on the way? " asked my grandfather. He took from his pocket a white paper bag containing 8? ELLEN AND MR. MAN sugar candy in sticks, ornamented with bright-colored spirals, like so many little barber-poles. My grandfather gave me the whole bag. I stammered my thanks. Like to see something to make you laugh ? " said he. Yes, sir," said I, for I was plucking up heart under this kind treatment. Then watch carefully what comes out of my hat," said he. I fixed round eyes upon the huge felt hat that pressed upon his heavy white locks. He raised the hat a little, and to my horror a garter-snake wriggled out from under the brim, tum bled to the ground, and wriggled madly off. Two others followed. My grand father replaced his hat. When you have a headache, Johnny," he said, " catch a few garter-snakes and wear em in your hat. Then the headache will go away." " Is yours all gone now? " I asked with intense curiosity. My grandfather nodded. :< Like to see a rabbit? " he asked sud denly; and he took a very little one from 88 ELLEN AND MR. MAN his left-hand coat pocket. The rabbit did not seem even embarrassed, and squatted comfortably on his knee. From the same pocket he presently drew a fox-terrier puppy, and from the pocket that had con tained the candy a tiny yellow kitten. Then steadying the rabbit, he removed to the lowest step and began to play most engagingly with his pets. Tiring of that, he put them back in his pockets and rose to his feet. 4 Whose little boy are you, Johnny?" he asked. Now I began to understand why I had been so kindly used. The old gentleman did not know that I was blood of his blood, bone of his bone. I laid the candy, un touched, on the top step. " I m Nedward Holinshed," I said in a scared voice, and looked appealingly into the big face. But he had turned away and was going into the house. He shut the door behind him. Ten days later my grandfather s name was in every paper in the United States, 89 ELLEN AND MR. MAN for his chiefest and dearest friend had ruined him. Apoplexy struck him a thun dering blow and left him in a dying condi tion. On his death-bed he forgave my father, and died with me in the hollow of his big arm. By his will he left enough money to his two daughters to produce for each of them an income of fifteen hundred dol lars a year. The rest of his property was to be divided equally among his children, including my father. But his children would not have complained if he had left the rest of his property to a foreign mis sion. There was no rest. With his own hands, and just before he died, he gave me the big gold watch that he had always carried. This my father subsequently pawned. 90 IX LWAYS the soul of honor, my grandfather s allowing himself to be ruined was a quixotic act. That, I suppose, coupled with his mag nificent habit of hospitality, accounted for the large crowd which followed his body to its last resting-place in the grave yard of old St. Peter s. Ellen and I spent all the morning of the funeral gathering roses in my grand father s garden to lay in his grave. It was a very hot, blue morning, filled with the humming of bees and the dry sounds of summer. Ellen s heavy black dress looked very much out of place, and got dusty about the bottom. When we re turned to the house, I got a whisk-broom and, going down on my knees, brushed it ELLEN AND MR. MAN all very carefully for her. The whole brunt of the funeral fell on my aunt Ellen and my father. My two uncles and my aunt Violet, it seemed, were prostrate with grief, and I was very sorry for them until my father explained that it was rage against the deceased for leaving them nearly penniless, and not anguish over his death. My father, who was not in the least disappointed, as he had never ex pected any legacy, spoke with real pride of the man for whom we mourned. He also spoke very interestingly of parents in gen eral, saying that the love of their children for them was in the exact ratio to the amount of their property. And he said that it would be a happier world if the law compelled parents who had reached fifty years of age to be placed on the same al lowances which they had given their chil dren up to that period. There was a cold lunch and sherry wine in the dining-room for the family and pall bearers, and a more lugubrious meal I have never attended. My uncles and my 92 ELLEN AND MR. MAN aunt Violet, looking like three human daggers, ate the food as if it were poison, and drank the sherry as if it were vitriol. Ellen and I sat together and occasionally whispered things to each other. My fa ther, on the other hand, assumed the head of the table, and talked a loud and cheerful monologue. He had his family where he wanted them, as the saying is, and he made them writhe. " Of course," said my father, " a man who has been brought up in the lap of lux ury can never without capital hope to be a great success in the business world ; but for every man who is willing to put his shoulder to the wheel there is a compe tence. Jefferson, my lad, you are eating nothing." Uncle Jefferson looked poisonously at my father. " I don t know," mused my father, " but extreme distaste for food will be advanta geous to a man who is going to clerking. . . . Marston, let bygones be bygones; . . . the pleasure of a glass of wine with 93 ELLEN AND MR. MAN you. . . . Violet, a girl " (she was fifty, if a day) " of your aristocratic looks should wear her bonnet straight. Yours has a bacchanalian list to port. . . . Shrewsbury " (this to an aged cousin), " a slice of the breast? . . . Fanny" (to the aged cou sin s sister), " I hope I see you well. . . . Edward " (this to me), " reach your cou sin the sherry. . . ." It was getting late; we finished our luncheon, and went into the drawing-room for a last look at my grandfather. He looked like the " Moses " of Michelangelo, only his cheeks were rosy and his mouth smiled. . . . The coffin-lid was screwed down, and the pall-bearers (all old men) lifted the coffin staggeringly and carried it out to the hearse. There were two doors to pass, and two serious jams resulted. The aged pall-bearers directed one an other in the voices of locusts, and did not know what to do with their tall hats. St. Peter s was crush-full and smelled heavily of flowers. As the coffin entered 94 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the church, the organ burst into a tremen dous march, which I have since learned was Beethoven s funeral march of a hero. It made you step out and feel noble all over. The people in the pews turned their heads to see the coffin and the old men go by. Some of the old men were very cele brated, and so old that it was thought they might never appear in public again. There were twelve of them, white-haired, bowed, and shuffling. I had never been in a church before, but I had no curiosity to look about me. My eyes were all for the big coffin that swayed ahead, and my ears for the big march that rumbled under the roof. The coffin was set down on draped sawhorses at the foot of the steps leading to the altar. In stantly the music stopped, there was a thrilling hush all over the church, and a man nearly as big as my grandfather, dressed in opaque black silk and sparkling linen, stepped forward, a little open book in his hands, and looked down on the cof fin. Then looking up and, as it seemed, 95 ELLEN AND MR. MAN gathering and holding every eye in the church, he spoke in a quick, loud voice: " I am the resurrection, and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die/ It was so tremendous, so beautiful, and so sudden that I gasped. The eyes of all the old pall-bearers clung to the great bishop and drained comfort from him. He made life seem so little, and life in death so beautiful and everlasting. I did not understand the half of what he said; but whole sentences swinging cadences of wonderful words have been with me ever since. :i I am the resurrection, and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." They told me that Ellen was in the gar den. It was dark, and she had changed her heavy black for a thin white sum mer gown. She was coming down the 96 ELLEN AND MR. MAN garden path toward the gap in the hedge, and a tall gentleman was walking beside her. There was a quizzical may I say a struggling? smile on Ellen s lips, and Mr. Craven, for it was he, was trying not to look like a sneak. Before I had made up my mind to advance or retreat, Ellen called to me, and I ran to her. She gath ered me to her with her left arm and held me tight. She gave her right hand to Mr. Craven. He held it a minute, seemed about to speak, dropped it, turned sud denly away, and left us. In the silence we walked about the darkening garden. Somehow I knew that Ellen was suffer ing. Suddenly she said: " Mr. Man, do you love me true? " I threw both my arms about her waist. : Why do you love me, Mr. Man? " :< Because," I said, " you you you are you are you." Again we walked in silence. Presently Ellen said: You know, Mr. Man, that everything has been changed by my father s death; 97 ELLEN AND MR. MAN there s very little money, and we Ve all been brought up to depend on money, so the future looks difficult. But I m not a bit frightened, and I m going to hold up my head just as high as I can ; and do you know what I m going to do, Mr. Man? " " No, Ellen." " Listen, then. I ve got enough money for two people to live on in Europe; and if I can find somebody to go with me and take care of me [that s the way she put it] , I m going abroad, and I m going to work so hard that, some day, people will pay to hear me sing." I expected to hear next that she had selected Mr. Craven to go with her and take care of her; but no. " Mr. Man," said Ellen, " if your father will let you, will you go with me and take care of me? " "Oh, Ellen!" Ellen sat down at the piano, and I nestled close to her side. Then she lifted her glorious voice and sang the loveliest ELLEN AND MR. MAN song of all: " La ci darem la mano " " Hand in Hand We 11 Wander." Aunt Violet thrust her red, swollen face savagely in at the door. " Ellen, how can you! " 99 X Y father seeing no objection to Ellen s proposal, and, indeed, rejoicing at the idea of get ting rid of me, I was thrown into a state of pleasurable and frantic excite ment, that lasted without abatement (ex cept for two days) until we had been in Europe a month. I was going abroad; I was going to see the Queen (possibly the little mouse under her chair), the Tower of London, and Westminster Abbey. I repeated these facts to myself; I confided them with a sense of infinite superiority to my friends ; I accosted strangers on the boulevard and endeavored to elate and astonish them with my great news. I kept up this sort of thing all summer and well into the autumn indeed, until the 100 ELLEN AND MR. MAN 9th of October, which was the date of our sailing. I must have bored others very much, but I did n t bore myself in the least; and that, by the way, is an ex cellent rule for happiness. Impatient as I was to go, the seventh and eighth days of October were passed in a state bordering on dejection, for it suddenly came home to me that I had been happy all my life (I had forgotten all miseries), and that I was leaving my friends and the places of my happiness. October that year, as always in that county, was glorious and golden. One day that seemed proud to be a day followed another. The trees began to be eaten up with their own flames of color, and the bay was like a sapphire set in a halo. In the late afternoon, ships bound up the Sound came statelily out from behind Fort Schuyler, their sails bright pink in the sun, and vanished mysteriously behind City Island. The big Sound steamers rushed over the same course and drove little waves to the beach, that was miles 101 ELLEN AND MR. MAN away. The nights came on slowly and peacefully, and were not black, but blue, with scarfs of stars thrown across them. The mornings stirred your soul like the sounding of horns. I must have loved the county always, but it was not until I came to leave it for the first time that I knew this. The places where I had played or been happy or un happy took on new meanings and new faces, as of so many friends. It did not seem to me as if I could bear to leave them. At times I was full of unreasoning self- pity and had a lump in my throat. Nor shall I forget the feelings of loneliness that I suffered when the train had rushed us out of the familiar into the compara tively unknown. Peter came in his little pony-cart to the station to see me off. Allen Hart came, Tom Abberlee, Cambell, all the good old friends, and Walter Craig (that fat and selfish child). They all came, bless them! bearing gifts all except Walter Craig. He brought nothing but his good 102 ELLEN AND MR. MAN wishes. And I hope he will be a rich man some day. Allen Hart gave me a physical geog raphyit was well that I should be pre pared for the phenomena of nature; Tom Abberlee, an air-gun (broken) it was well that I should be prepared to deal with the French; Peter, two pounds of candied cherries (red and white) and a postage-stamp album; and Walter Craig, as I have recorded, his good wishes. Was I puffed up to have such friends, munifi cent before men? And did I blush when I whispered Allen Hart to give my love to his sister, who was only six years older than I ? The Ituria was a ship of seven thou sand tons " burden," as I had taken pains to inform myself. I thought it a fine weight for a boat. She was scheduled to run from Sandy Hook to Liverpool in seven days; and she was seven times as dirty and evil-smelling as any ship I was ever on. Besides this, she had a way of rolling that was all her own. But what ELLEN AND MR. MAN cared I ? I was the hero in a nautical book such as I had read. I went through the regular experiences. I went with Ellen into the main saloon for dinner (I think they had supper in those days). The floor rose and pressed my feet. Who were we that we should be put at the captain s ta ble, with Ellen at his right hand ? A great elation seized me and an indescribable ap petite. I wanted to eat, not because of hun ger exactly, but because I wanted to. The sea got out from under the Ituria, and the saloon descended like an elevator for about three flights. Some instinct told me to get up and go. I said that I had forgotten something. I rose, and as suming dignity, walked slowly and halt ingly across the shifting floor toward the distant door. Nearing it somewhat, I was obliged to run, in order that I might not be a shame to myself before all men. But in half an hour I was right as a trivet, nor have I since been sick of the sea. Going on deck in the morning, there 104 ELLEN AND MR. MAN was no land in sight, only a great fresh ness, and a splendid turmoil of green waves. Sensation two, of the nautical hero. I became friends with the other children, and we explored the ship and played, and were inseparable. Off the Banks we did behold the distant spouting of whales, and a far-off whiteness that was a berg of the polar ice. Each day was as long and varied as the heart could desire, and grand it was to lie in the rock ing berth and hear the waves strike like molten lead against the port. As for Ellen, she held a kind of seven- day court at which the heart of every man aboard was a courtier. She parceled out walks and divided them, and slipped in extras as a belle does at a ball. The night before landing, a concert was given for the benefit of the crew, and among others Ellen played and sang. By the grace of God her performance came the last of all, so that one was able to forget the others. It was like the swallow of pure water one 105 ELLEN AND MR- MAN gets after taking a quinine pill that will not go down alone. Following the concert was a dance, for the sea had got very smooth, and Ellen has since confessed that between the hours of ten and midnight she received seven proposals of marriage. 1 06 XI QUOTE from Ellen s journal : Friday, Paris. Behold, we have been with the great teacher of singing. We called five times before he would see us, because he is said to hate American voices. Finally I suppose our persistence wore him out, for he had to let us in. His work-room is a large, square place with tall windows, three pianos, bare floors, and hideous things on the mantel piece. The creature was sitting at a table, with his back to us. After we had looked at his back for some time, he said, " Well? " and turned round in a la-de-da manner. I suppose he must have liked our looks, because the moment he saw us his whole manner changed, and he hopped to his little chisel-shaped feet and bowed and scraped. 107 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Good God, mademoiselle," he cried, " is it you that I have kept in waiting? I wish I may do a million years of penance in purgatory ! " "Never mind," I said; "I 11 forgive you if you 11 teach me to sing and not make it too horribly much." " You wish to sing? " he said. " I will be proud to give you lessons." We ex changed pleasant remarks for some time, and then he sat down at the piano and tried my voice. I was horribly frightened, but I did my very best because it meant so much to me. After he had tested my voice thoroughly he swung slowly round on his stool, and looked at me with disappoint ment written in large letters all over his face. I nearly cried, and presently he did. " I cannot give you lessons," he said. I tried to be cheerful. " Is it as bad as that? " I said. " Yes," said he, " it is as bad as that." You think I can never learn to sing? " Then he stood up on his little feet and began to shout and stamp. 1 08 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Sing! " he cried. " Sing! Holy Mo ther of Angels, you can sing! But I can not teach you, since you have nothing to learn. It is for that I weep! " I could have kissed him, but I did n t. When he had calmed down, he asked who my teachers had been; and after I had told him, he wrote their names down in a book. Then he made me the prettiest little speech. " Mademoiselle," he said, " once or twice in a century a human throat is made like the throat of a nightingale. Such a throat had Lisette, the Gipsy, who died in giving birth to a child, before even she had sung to the world, and such a throat have you. My ear, which has been tuned by the greatest voices of the age, can pick no flaw in your singing. I would rather listen to your notes than be given pearls. You have only to go where Frenchmen are gathered together and sing the littlest song to find their gold, their watches, their rings, and their hearts thrown at your feet. Will you not sit at the piano now and sing a little song to this old professor, 109 ELLEN AND MR. MAN who is at once happy and unhappy in that he can teach you nothing? " I sat down, of course, as I always do when anybody asks me, and sang him a song. I sang him the " Suwanee River " just as well as I could, and he began to cry again. " Mademoiselle," he said, " there is so little that I can say." He wiped his eyes with a handkerchief that had so much cologne on it that it must have made them sting. Then he talked very seriously to me, and wisely I thought. He told me to wait a year or two before going on the stage. He said that if I insisted he would get me a position at once, but that he would advise me to wait. He told me that, to begin with, I had not come to my full strength, and that, to end with, my French was execrable. :t Were I you," he said, " I should spend a year in Tours, where the best French is spoken, and a year in Italy. I should prac tise with all my heart, but not too much; I should learn many roles, and finally ap- 1 10 ELLEN AND MR. MAN pear to the world at the very best that was possible to me. You are too young," he said," too young." Then he said : " Mademoiselle, I pray that you will al ways consider me your friend, and that the goodness which is so evident in your beau tiful face has given me nearly as much pleasure as your voice. If [and the lit tle fellow blushed very nicely] you have not money enough to do what I recom mend, I will gladly be your banker." Mr. Man and I had to stop on the stairs to give each other a hug, because we were so happy. Mr. Man seemed to understand everything w r e said (though he does n t know any French except the word for "cream-puff") and laughed for joy. Monday,, Tours, Hotel de L Univers. Mr. Man is the dearest little man, and when I don t want to cry over him I want to laugh. Whenever the waiter helps him to anything, he bows his sweetest and says, " Mercy ! Mercy ! " which he conceives to be the French for "thanks." This in ELLEN AND MR. MAN hotel is kept by two sisters as pretty as possible, and ever so kind. They are do ing everything they can to help me find a nice little house cheap, because I am going to keep house now that I have the chance, and it is perfectly charming to hear them wheedle and scold the various landlords. The hotel has a gravel court yard, a fountain in the middle, and quanti ties of tame white doves. They may be pigeons, but I think they are doves. I have already engaged a tutor. He is a wee little man with a large bulbous head and the tiniest feet, which he keeps pressed close to each other, in order, I think, to give the impression that he has at least one foot of normal size. Everybody says that his French is very beautiful and that he is a great scholar. Here French is talked slowly and largely, like English, and there is no clipping of quantities. Mr. Man I don t know why, except that it is a lovely mouse-colored old building has gone crazy mad about the cathedral, and makes me take him there once a day. He I 12 ELLEN AND MR. MAN is also quite mad about the towers of 1 Horloge and Charlemagne. Ever since the Tower of London, I think towers have completely fascinated him, and he desires nothing so much as to have one of his own a very old one with broken winding stairs and a candle-snuffer roof. He draws pictures of towers constantly, and conducts in his heart of hearts most fu rious sieges and defenses of the same. He cannot wholly dismiss his beloved Cooper Indians, but he improves them with suits of medieval armor and double-handed swords. Tuesday. We have a house. It is No. 10 Rue des Guetteries, or Rue des Guet- teries dix, as they say here a quiet little street running for a block at right angles from the big boulevard, and losing itself in front of a cobbler s shop. It is a wee bit of a place, but ample for us two and a servant. It has a little oblong back yard surrounded by an ivy-covered wall, floored with broken flints, and containing two trees large enough, so Mr. Man proceeded to 8 113 ELLEN AND MR. MAN demonstrate, to climb. The back of the yard is a woodshed, and from the roof of it we can see all our neighbors back yards, how big a Saturday wash they have, and how many dogs and cats. We got the house in quite a pleasant way. M. Carriere, who is my tutor, brought some friends of his, M. and Mme. Dupin (French Protestants), to call upon us. They are very charming people and have nine children, as clever as black-and-tan terriers, who also called (the youngest in her mother s arms), and they took us for a walk up the hill across the river, and for tea to the home of some Americans named Teach, who have made Tours their home. Their little chateau is called La Chanterie ; it has a Roman foundation and an eighteenth-century roof. The grounds are lovely and full of late roses. They have a daughter, a girl of fourteen, and a niece (pretty as a picture) named Blanche, who lives with them. She is seven, and very shy. Mrs. Teach is the fourth woman, since our arrival, who has 114 ELLEN AND MR. MAN taken it upon herself to be a mother to us. The two sisters at the hotel were the first, then Mme. Dupin, and last Mrs. Teach. One could not ask to be better mothered. Mrs. Teach, hearing that we wanted a house, at once got out a picture of Rue des Guetteries dix; told us where it was, and how many rooms it had ; also for how much we could have it. It seems that it belongs to her. I won t say how much rent she wanted, but when the bargain was closed, I felt like a robber and said so. " My dear," said she, " if you would promise to let us see you every single soli tary day, I would let you have the house for nothing." It was warm enough to have tea on the veranda, and it was very pretty to see all the children streaming about the lawn, and, even if most of them are French, playing like real children at home. While we were at tea, three little English boys named Knollys came in. The eldest is fifteen, the second twelve, and the young est Mr. Man s age. Their names are Har- "5 ELLEN AND MR. MAN old, Walter, and Maurice. Walter is the most charming little boy I ever saw, ex cepting, of course, Mr. Man. 1 He has a round head covered with curly (it does n t curl too much) brown hair, a charming, ingenuous face, with many freckles across the nose, blue eyes, and beautiful white teeth. I could wish that he were a great deal older and very rich and in love with me. The three wore blue sailor suits, had good-conduct stripes below the imperial crown on their left sleeves, and belong, if their hat-bands tell truth, to her Maj esty s ship Thunderer. They are the manliest, politest little boys, with beautiful English voices and bright-red cheeks. Mrs. Teach got them to sing for us; they did so at once very naturally and without embarrassment, standing in line. 2 They sang first (and really delightfully) a song about some odious creature who bungled 1 This is a statement on the part of Ellen Ilolinshed of ador able loyalty, and is perfectly ridiculous. I was a brat. E. H. 2 I insisted on having sailor suits just like the Knollys boys , and when they were asked to sing would stand in line with them, opening and shutting my mouth at the right time, but making no sound, for I never could sing a note. I loved to be in the running, it seems. E. II. 116 ELLEN AND MR. MAN with a knife, acquiring thus a chest com plaint which lasted all its life. And after ward they sang " Rule Britannia " in quite a stirring way. Then Mrs. Teach let them eat as much as they wanted, and I think they must be starved at home, 1 for I have never seen so many cakes, cups of tea, and pieces of toast disappear in so short a time. Then they ran out to play with the other children, and before long, looking up, I saw Walter and Mr. Man walking at a distance from the others, with their arms about each other. 2 1 They were n t. It was merely an incredible manliness of appetite. F. H. 2 Walter and I fell in love with each other at first sight. And I love him still, though after that winter in Tours he vanished out of my life, and whither he has gone and how he has fared I do not know. He was twelve going on thirteen when I knew him, but even at that age he was a very manly man, chivalrous, gentle, brave, lovely with his mother, courte ous, thoughtful, and romantic. If by any chance he has grown up to be a typical insular Englishman, I am glad that I do not know him any more. But if he has fulfilled his promise and is the ingenuous, honest, affectionate boy and man that he used to be, then I would go and seek him if I were in trouble, asking for no stronger arm to be about my shoulders, and no more kindly voice to tell me how I had been in the wrong, and the most honorable way to go about making all right. Good luck to you Walter Knollys, and wherever you have gone and however you fare, may God love you well. E.H. 117 XII HERE may have been seven hundred boys of different sizes and odious habits who were be ing educated in those days at the Lycee of Tours; there may have been seven thou sand. I remember only numberless court yards full to the brim at recess-time of French boys, who chattered and played games in which dexterity received the tribute which in an English or American school would have been paid alone to cour age. Never shall I forget the chattering, the strange cries, the face-making, and the leaping about. Never shall I understand how the armies of Napoleon happened to be composed of Frenchmen. Nobody ever has understood it, except Frenchmen. In us courage is a repose; in the French it is an intoxication, rising at times to such a 118 ELLEN AND MR. MAN fury of faith and enthusiasm as to enable them to achieve things impossible to any other nation the globe over. I know them, for it is a matter of history, to be coura geous to folly; but I have been in their schools, and I have seen their children at play, and where they get their courage when they want it, and what they do with it when they don t want it, I don t know. The Lycee at recess-time was like the mon key temple at Benares waves of black- haired, sharp-eyed monkeys swashing hither and thither, leaping, crying, scold ing with superhuman speed, forgetting what they had started to do, and starting something else. In the school-room it was another mat ter. There, except for the sudden and fierce sobbing of some poor little lad who had forgotten one answer out of ten thou sand and was ashamed, silence and re straint prevailed. Punishment was the only other disturbance, and that was al ways a quick and savage affair. The culprit, in tears, was dragged violently 119 ELLEN AND MR. MAN from his seat by the master and beaten over the head and knuckles with a heavy ruler, the master, as a rule, performing somewhat as follows: whack !( shriek from culprit), "Cest drole! ah!" whack! (shriek) whack! whack! "Cest drole! ah!" whack! (shriek); and ending by throwing the culprit (aged in my room eight to ten) violently on the stone floor. Punishment such as this was for failing to understand something or for answering wrong real offenses. A blot on the copy book was visited with a circular lock-step walk, with other culprits, under a shed at recess. Impertinence (O rare bird!) was the occasion for a summoning of parents, guardians, grandfathers, sponsors in bap tism, the family lawyer, and the family priest, and unspeakable brutalities. Stu pidity was nearly unknown. It was diffi cult to say whether the handwriting of the child on my right was more or less ex quisite than that of the little child on my left. God alone knew which little head was more pregnant with facts learned, for 1 20 ELLEN AND MR. MAN a lifetime had not sufficed to catalogue the laborious acquisitions of either. As for me, I learned nothing and was from America. If I remember rightly, the Lycee opened at seven-thirty and closed at four. One lunched there. The tables were of wood, bare of cloth, and stained with the thin, sour, red wine (it may have been ink) that was given us to drink. I have never sampled a ten-day corpse, but I have eaten the Lycee butter. The wine that you could not drink you threw on the floor ; the food that you could not eat was served again to you (on the same plate) at the next meal. You cleaned your plate with your own napkin, and it was only once a week that it received a washing. Du Maurier has said that he would like to be able to whistle an old Paris smell. If anybody should whistle the smell of the Lycee dining-room in my presence, I would shoot him. They tell me all this is changed since my day. It is time, or else there would be no Napoleonic armies in 121 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the future. I can only say of the Lycee food in my time that I never got hungry enough to eat it without disgust, and that the least repulsive dish was undoubtedly fairly fresh horse. Friday, and what had once been fish, I will leave to the imagina tion, merely remarking that it was a mat ter of great good fortune that ptomaine poisoning had not yet been invented. But because at the Lycee I became friends with the Knollys boys, I have a certain tender ness for that institution. And oh that the Lord would bring me back the little breakfasts and dinners with Ellen at Rue des Guetteries dix, and let me look once more in the healthy, happy, plump face of Eugenie, that pearl of cooks ! For breakfast a fresh egg, choc olate and whipped cream, Rillette de Tours, rolls light as down; sometimes a sausage, sometimes a dish of roasted mus sels. For dinner potatoes (like whipped cream), a roast fowl stuffed with chest nuts, perhaps goose-liver w r ith rice, a dessert fantastic in design and exquisite in flavor. 122 He gathered his books together and came home ELLEN AND MR. MAN While I was at school Ellen studied with her tutor or worked at her music, and did her housekeeping (Eugenie let her do precious little of that!), and the rest of the afternoon we played together to our heart s content, taking long walks, visiting curiosity-shops, churches, the library, the zoo; often alone, but more often accompanied by the Knollys boys (who had fallen in love with Ellen), the Teach girl, and Blanche. I was in love with Blanche, the shy and silent one. I was not ashamed of it at the time, any more than I am now. And so were Wal ter and Maurice (theoretically their real affections were bestowed on Ellen) ; but Harold was single in his devotions, and pined and longed and ogled for the favor of Ellen, who, in her own way, had lost her heart to Walter, and had a little tin type of him on her bureau. I quote from the journal book: Sunday. Other people may be happy, and I hope they are, but Mr. Man and I are the happiest people in the world. The 123 ELLEN AND MR. MAN only cloud was Mr. Man s career at the Lycee, which, thank God, has terminated. It seems that the brute of a master tried to punish him for sticking a pen in the calf of the boy in front of him (who promptly shrieked and told), and that Mr. Man, resisting punishment, burned his bridges and threw the ink-well into the master s face. The master, it seems, ran shrieking from the room, to get the help of some one higher in authority. The other scholars drew back from Mr. Man as if he had the smallpox, and probably prayed to their saints, while he, nothing daunted, gathered his books together, drew a picture of a donkey on the black board, labeled it with the master s name, and came home. The Lycee is a dreadful place: (a) the rooms are not ventilated; (b) the masters are unjust; (c) the boys are sneaks; (d) the food is vile; (e) the tone is immoral. Wednesday. Mr. Man is attending a little private school (there are forty scholars) up near the river. The school 124 ELLEN AND MR. MAN is taught entirely by a man and his wife, who, while being absurdly French, are very kindly. When they showed me over the school-room, I remarked that it was very cold. " Ah," said M. La Roche, " that, when the scholars have been in it a little time, is soon amended." The idea is horrible, but it is for Mr. Man s own good that he learn French, and perhaps they open the windows when it gets too warm. 125 XIII N the other side of the river, above the convent of Marmon- tier, and belonging to it, was a chateau called Rougemont, which the Knollys rented. There was a big square garden wi,th ruined towers at the corners, while the house itself was a long, massive block of masonry with a fat snuffer tower at each end. The Knollys were poor and many, but they kept open house and were lovely to children. Mrs. Knollys was a Brazilian, with fine dark eyes and very shapely hands and feet. She played the piano beautifully, and it was on the stone floor of her drawing-room that we chil dren learned dancing twice a week. And oh, the bliss of prancing about the room with the shy and silent Blanche! Harold, being already learned in the 126 ELLEN AND MR. MAN light fantastic, danced with us or not, ac cording to his good pleasure. If Ellen was present, it would please him to stay and dance; if not, he would most likely go rabbit-hunting. That was the privi lege of years. How much Walter and Maurice and I longed for even one gun between us will never be known. We were oblivious to the obvious and well- known fact that Harold never brought any rabbits home with him. Everybody was happy in those days at least, I was. There was always fun to be had or an adventure. We got to know all the English and American colony well, and many charming French families. Es pecially we loved a truly beautiful and great French lady to whom it must have been an everlasting solace to know that her name was Madame la Vicomtesse de La Montaigne Solaire. She and the archbishop were the richest people in Tours, and the most charitable. De La Montaigne himself was dead, and ma- dame had dedicated her eternal youth and 127 ELLEN AND MR. MAN beauty to black, in which she was be witching. Her brother was Claude St. Anne, the chocolate king, of whom every body with even the most paltry interest in magnates has heard. We heard a great deal about him from the vicomtesse, and there was nothing for it but that he should come to Tours and see Ellen. The vicomtesse insisted upon it. She wanted to make a match, and to Ellen s laughing protests she turned a deaf ear and an in sistent spirit. " Let him merely set eyes on you," madame would say, " and the marriage is made." Then she would say how good and beautiful he was, and how young and rich; how he had three great houses that had belonged to kings, and an estate in Canada that was about as big as France, and, she would add pitifully, nobody but himself to do the marketing. Then she would tell, strictly for my benefit, how much chocolate her brother s factories turned out in a year, a month, a day. I forget the exact statistics, but incline to 128 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the impression that the year s output would have made a rod six inches in di ameter of triple extract of vanilla, yellow label, from Paris to the moon. One day the vicomtesse took a letter from her blotter and waved it trium phantly at Ellen. "It is enough," she said; "he is com ing. Hear now what he says, and if I have done wrong, scold me." Then she read: " Whenever I hear from you, dear sister, I feel as if an angel had written to me. But how shall I thank you for this last letter, written as it is by one angel and containing the picture of another " She paused. " I sent him your photograph, Ellen," she said defiantly. " I know that I had not the right. Now scold me ! " For some reason Ellen did not scold. Madame read on. " I return the picture, because I have not the right to keep it ; but I shall not let it be long 129 ELLEN AND MR. MAN out of my sight, for in three days I shall be in your house and at the feet of it. Commend me to the original, for whom I have already the most profound admiration." " That is enough for you to hear," said madame. " You see he is coming, and the marriage is as good as made." Ellen lay back in her chair and laughed, but I think in her heart, and in spite of herself, she was somewhat excited at the prospect of St. Anne s visit. But the third day arrived, and no St. Anne. The vicomtesse did not seem in the least disturbed, and said, " Affairs- affairs " ; but Ellen, who should n t have been, was. (Bless her heart!) I think the sly rogue had been building a little ro mance about the chocolate king a very little one. But she laughed about it and called him names to his sister. She spoke of him as her faithless lover and a wrecker of hearts. M. Carriere, Ellen s tutor, came every morning at nine, and occasionally of an afternoon paid her an unprofessional visit. 130 ELLEN AND MR. MAN He was a dear little bushy man, as gentle as a pigeon, and very learned. One day Ellen said to me : " Mr. Man, what do you think can be the matter with monsieur? He came to teach me this morning, and when he left said that he had something to say, and when he tried to say it he burst out crying. He said something about being obliged to stop teaching me, and jumped up and ran out of the house." Perhaps he s in love with you, too, Ellen/ I said, for I was getting worldly wise. You could n t help it, living with Ellen and seeing the heads turn. Usually when I said things like that Ellen called me a prim little goose and laughed at me; but this time she seemed prepared to dis cuss the matter seriously, and in the very middle of the discussion who should ring and be admitted but M. Carriere himself ! He brought a large bouquet of roses with a stiff collar of paper lace about it. " Dear young lady," he said, bowing and breathing hard, but otherwise very possessed, " I have come to say what I ELLEN AND MR. MAN was unable to say this morning. I have come to say good-by. I shall not be able to teach you any more. I have been called to the chair of French in the University of Montreal. That is why I was so troubled this morning, for it came over me all of a sudden that we had had our last lesson together, and I am a lonely old man with no wife or little ones, and I had come to regard you and p tit monsieur as some thing very sweet and good that belonged to me. I have for you two young people the feelings of a father, and in saying adieu to you, I beg your acceptance of this insignificant bouquet of roses, and may I add, in the delicate phrase of your so great Shakspere, Nymve, een thy oresons be all my seens remember/ Ellen mothered the little man, and pat ted him on the back, and buried her face in the roses, and said all the sweet things she could think of. Presently Eugenie brought in tea, and to this day I think I can see little M. Carriere, a cup and sau cer in one hand, a slice of bread with one 132 ELLEN AND MR. MAN bite gone in the other, his little feet pressed closely together, his funny tall hat on the floor beside him, and a glis tening tear in the corner of each eye. "As for further lessons in French, dear young lady," he said, " I have spoken to my very great friend, Monsieur Langeais, and he will call upon you in the morning at " (he gulped) " the usual hour. He is one of the truest scholars in France, and I feel confident that you will like him. He is not old like me," he added wistfully. When he had finished his tea, the little man asked Ellen to sing him one song, for the long good-by. And when she had done, he gave her one look of anguish and adoration, and left the house. Ellen was prepared to hate the new tutor. 133 XIV S I came home from school the next afternoon, I found the vi- comtesse s carriage drawn up in front of Rue des Guetteries dix, and herself in the act of dismounting therefrom. She was in great good humor and boxed my ears for me. We went in together and found Ellen at the piano. She was not playing, however, but dreaming, and her eyes were on the bouquet of roses which poor little M. Carriere had given her. Ellen jumped up with a little glad cry as we came in and kissed the vicomtesse. " My dear," said the latter, " I have heard that Monsieur Carriere has been obliged to leave you, and I have come over at once to give you the name of an other French professor who has most ex cellent credentials." 134 ELLEN AND MR. MAN That is very sweet of you," said Ellen, " but I have already engaged a tutor." Madame seemed disappointed. You are a devout student ! " she ex claimed. "And who is the lucky man?" " A Monsieur Langeais," said Ellen. " Langeais," said madame, " Lan geais," as if the name conveyed nothing, " a little anemic man with side-whis kers?" Ellen laughed. " He s very big and strong! " she said. " Now I place him," said madame. ;< But, my dear, he is so young! " " Awfully," said Ellen. " But is it quite proper? " " Of course it is," said Ellen; " and be sides, I have Eugenie." " Still," said madame, " a young tutor I am not sure that I should permit my self one. Would n t you better dismiss him and try my man? " " But I Ve engaged him," said Ellen. Madame insisted. Ellen became stubborn. 135 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " My dear," said madame, " you dis play too much interest in this creature. You stand up for him as if he were an old and tried friend." " Why," said Ellen, " he s got the man liest and most honest face I ever saw. I d trust him anywhere. He s the soul of courtesy, and a gentleman every inch of him." " My dear," said madame, " people will talk; be advised." " I am here to study French," said Ellen, " under the best master I can find, and if people talk, they may. I m sure I don t care." Madame rose. " Of course," she said, " if it is a ques tion of the best master, I have nothing to say. By the way," she added, and there was a twinkle in her right eye and a slight closing of her left, " do you happen to know the name of the best master to study under?" We were unable to answer this enig matical question, and madame, assuming 136 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the manner and voice of a woman of the people (a thing she could do with inimi table humor), sang blatantly the refrain of Nicholas: " Le voila, Nicholas. Ah-ah-ah ! " and, laughing, left us. Wednesday. My new tutor is an ex cellent young man, and speaks the most beautiful French, and sings and plays charmingly. He is very big and has brown hair and brown eyes, and is clean- shaved, which is very rare in a French man. I feel very sorry for him; he is an orphan and has no money except what he can make by tutoring. The vicomtesse tries to tease me about him. I am begin ning to think she is a very flippant woman. Yesterday they both came to tea, and she treated him du haut en bas, which I have never known her to do to any one before, and which I thought in very bad form. Why is it that just as soon as you think a certain person is perfect he or she 137 ELLEN AND MR. MAN proceeds to disclose a cloven hoof? Mr. Man is devoted to M. Langeais, and they have been for several excursions together of an afternoon. M. Langeais knows everything and is a splendid comrade for Mr. Man. He has learned more French on their few walks than in all the rest of the time he has been here. And as for me, my progress really astonishes me, or else M. Langeais flatters. But I don t think so, because he is absolutely indifferent to me. I know this, because I have gathered from his conversation that he is in love with some girl, and they cannot get married because they are poor. The question d argent is a beastly thing. I have always wished to be very rich, and now I am be ginning not to care. I think money is a very sordid consideration, and I think there could be just as much happiness in a little tiny menage as in a marble palace. Do you still think so, guileless one? Such an excitement! They had been digging round the base of the Tower 138 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Charlemagne, and had found the long- lost grave of St. Martin of Tours (he was the man, as you may know from the legend books, who always raised such Cain physically and repartetically with the devil), and Ellen and M. Langeais and I (he calls me Monsieur Pat-a-Pouf) are going to climb the tower and see the pil grim exercises from the top. A family lived on garlic in the base of the Tower Charlemagne, and if you were polite to them, they would let you through their kitchen and show you the begin ning of the winding stairway that leads to the top. The rest was between you and your feet. That stair is one of the worst in the world; each step has been so hol lowed by myriad feet that the ascent is like that of a spirally inclined plane. Tou- jours la jeunesse I scrambled on ahead and reached the top of the tower alone. Ellen and Langeais were a long time com ing. Two hundred feet and more below me the streets were crowded with the mob 139 ELLEN AND MR. MAN through which we had been obliged to come to reach the tower. They were mostly common people, courtezans, bread-mak ers, and peasants from the country, and they looked no bigger than ants. Many of the women wore lovely floppy linen caps, and there was wealth of color. An oblong hole in the street was surrounded by a low wooden fence and robed priests; candles burned fitfully, and one priest at the head of the grave held in his left hand a brass and glass reliquary which the peo ple pressed upon one another to kiss. In his right hand the priest had a little rag with which he diligently polished the glass of the reliquary between kisses. It is for tunate that that crowd was enjoying pretty good health. I know I was, for I had a splendid time all by myself on top of the tower, and was not a bit giddy. Pres ently I became aware of a great craning of necks, and looking away up the street, saw the archbishop and about a hundred yards of priests, all in brilliant colors, ap proaching. Where were Ellen and Lan- 140 ELLEN AND MR. MAN geais? I could not bear to have them miss the pageant, and so I dove out of the bright sunlight into the dark entrance of the stairway, as a prairie-dog into its bur row. It was so dark inside that I had to go slowly, for my eyes were still focused for the sunlight. I had made two com plete turns of the spiral before I heard the voices of my elders and betters. But I could only distinguish what Langeais said. It was in his best English : " There was nevaire any one bot you." So I knew that Langeais was following in the footsteps of all the others, and turn ing, I remounted the stair. The archbishop was nearing the grave, and as he passed slowly through the dense crowd, between the devout ranks of bended heads, he blessed with one hand and held out the ring upon the other for the people to kiss. But sometimes he smiled and patted a little child on the head. 141 XV "LLEN and Langeais have gone for a walk. I am alone in the house, and have a headache. I shall go and tell a friend about it and be made whole. Shall I go to Blanche, whom I love (the shy and silent one)? No; I do not wish to do the talking. I will go to Walter at Rougemont. There is no spring in the feet. I pass the Maison Polti, that window of bright jewels, with out so much as a look. I leave Roche s, the delectable cake-shop, astern, without any feeling of unsatisfied desire. I pass the statue of Balzac and do not, as usual, wonder what great general he may have been, what were his victories and who were his enemies. The wind is blowing strong down the Loire and cools the burn ing face. I cross the beautiful long 142 ELLEN AND MR. MAN bridge, but do not pause to speculate on the wonder of currents. I turn to the right and go heavily along the little path that is on the top of the dike. I pass through a green gate and ascend the tell ing stone-walled zigzag to Rougemont. Walter and Maurice are in an apple-tree. They invite me up. I do not feel like climbing, and tell them so. They descend to make personal remarks about my face, which, it seems, is covered with red blotches. I become alarmed, and we go into the house so that I may see myself in a mirror. I look as if I had slept in a New Jersey swamp during the sea son when the mosquitos are at their best. I become further alarmed and desire home and Ellen. Walter is concerned about me. Walter draws his arm through my own and says that he will go home with me. I tell him not to bother, and Walter tells me not to be a silly little beast. W r e leave Maurice, who is too young to under stand sickness and the trials of his elders and betters, and start for home. ELLEN AND MR. MAN I am overtaken by an accident in the boulevard, before everybody. Walter holds my head and comforts me, bless him! and I am so dizzy that Walter is obliged to bend his strong young shoul ders and carry me pickaback the rest of the way. Eugenie screams at the sight of me and hurries me to bed. Walter will not go, but I am too sick to talk to him. Wal ter sits on the edge of the bed, and tells me with laborious pains the whole story of King Solomon s mines, which he has just read. My heart thanks him for the effort, but my head is weary, and it would take more than savages and Sir Henry Curtises and wicked old Gaghools to bring it to attention. God help me! I am become loathsome and a menace alike to friends and enemies if so be that I have any. The first thing Ellen did when she found out was to send word to Langeais that he must not come near the house. The first thing Lan geais did was to come. He came calmly 144 ELLEN AND MR. MAN and joyfully, and I could hear him down stairs saying comforting things to Ellen, who had run weeping to let him in. Then he came up-stairs and succeeded in mak ing M. Pat-a-Pouf laugh. After a time I fell asleep, and waking, was too weary to open my eyes, and heard as in a dream. " And if I were to take it and become pock-marked and hideous, it would make no difference? " Then the gentlest laugh. And I fell asleep again. Everybody that I have ever spoken to has been corralled. I am the most talked- of person in Tours, and the population thereof wishes that I had choked before ever I left my native heath and crossed the boisterous Atlantic. I am expected to be responsible for as many deaths as the Colt revolver or the poison of the Bor- gias, and I do not care a hurrah! It is a fine time to find out who one s real friends are. Madame la Vicomtesse de La Montaigne Solaire has sent to Paris 145 ELLEN AND MR. MAN for an expert. We are waiting his ar rival. Now he enters with the local doc tor and beholds me in all my loathsome ness. He is a big, jolly man, and he smiles at me, and I do my best to smile back, but the doctor has been so much heralded that I am sore afraid. Vous voyez, monsieur," says the local doctor. " Si, je vois," says the expert, and sud denly clapping his hand upon his col league s shoulder, he bursts into a house- shaking peal of laughter. He calms himself, and addressing Ellen, Langeais, Eugenie, the local doctor, and me, speaks as follows: " In the current of my practice, it hap pened, ladies and gentlemen, that this morning I was to deliver a duchess of an infant, to dress the festering finger of the President of the French republic, and to give a lecture on the esthetics of medi cine. I was also on the point of adminis tering an ice-bath to a general who is suffering from pneumonia, and I was en- 146 ELLEN AND MR. MAN gaged for luncheon with my best friend. In the face of these interesting events I received a telegram from my dear friend the vicomtesse. It read : If you don t come to Tours by the next train to attend a case of smallpox in which I am in terested, I will never speak to you again. It was enough; I came. . . This little gentleman" (and he pointed at me), " what is his name? " " Pat-a-Pouf," said Langeais, firmly. The great doctor winked at me. "This little Monsieur Pat-a-Pouf," he said, " is not suffering from smallpox, but measles." Langeais gave a shout of laughter. The great doctor winked at him in deed, there seemed to be an understanding between them and turned to Ellen. " Mademoiselle," he said, " you have been drinking too much coffee." " It was to keep me awake," said Ellen. There is no longer any need," said the great doctor, " and I advise you to go back to chocolate." H7 XVI 1HERE is nothing which I de spise more or which gives me greater satisfaction than eaves dropping. Now that I am grown up I am abnormally honest about it, be cause I know that I like it too well, and that it is a device of the evil one. Even when I was little I had pricks of conscience about it, and used to swear off for days at a time. But when I was sick in Tours, convalescing, and in great need of something to comfort me, I would as soon have gone without my daily por tion of hearing things that I was not in tended to as without the wine-jelly which the vicomtesse sent to me daily. Ellen and Langeais were constantly with me, and when I was awake they spent most of their time saying and doing things calcu- 148 ELLEN AND MR. MAN lated to amuse a sick child, but directly I pretended to be asleep they would fall to talking in a much more interesting, and, let me add, interested way. " Ellen," said Langeais one day, " there is still time to retire from the situation if you are afraid. It is not a bad thing to live on a little money if you think that the future may bring you more. But if you are quite sure that the income will not in crease materially, and that expenses will (for that is the inevitable consequence of marriage), you will do wisely to think twice. Say that our joint resources are enough to give us a little house such as this, one servant, a little place for Mon sieur Pat-a-Pouf, and beyond that no thing. Shall you be content to live out your life here in Tours, not to travel, never to go back into the great world, from which you have stepped for a lit tle, and to which you belong? Shall you be content with a walk into the coun try now and then for recreation, an even ing at the theater, a quiet game of piquet 149 ELLEN AND MR. MAN for nothing a point with me, and the se clusion of your beauty and music all your young days ? I say that when I think that I have asked you to do these things for me, and that you have consented, I feel at once so proud that I could cry out, and a little bit selfish and ashamed. And I ask you to take back your promise for a time, and think it all over." " No amount of thinking could make me change, dear," said Ellen, " or take back anything I have said. I think I de spise riches." Langeais laughed. "But your beauty?" " That is for you to think about." " And your voice, which marriage with me will lose to the world? " " It won t be lost to you if you like it." " And your country? " " There was a man over there," said Ellen, " who used to tell me four or five times a week that he could not live with out me, and I was very much flattered, and very young, and a little fool, and I began to think that I liked him very much. 150 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Then we lost our money, and I said to myself, if he comes to me now and tells me that he cannot live without me, I 11 tell him that he need n t. But he did n t. In stead, he came and told me that I could always count on him as a friend, and that if there was anything he could do So I laughed at him, and that was the end of that. That was the last really important thing that happened to me in my coun- try." Usually I was very jealous of Ellen s admirers. I had hated that man Craven, for instance, and the men on the steamer, and was sometimes jealous of Walter even. But it was different with Langeais. You could n t have entertained a petty thought about that man to save your life. He was so big and masterful and kind, and I am going to copy out of the journal book to give you some idea of what Ellen thought about him. Thursday. I have burned my bridges, given up all idea of going on the stage and becoming famous and rich. I am go- ELLEN AND MR. MAN ing to marry a Frenchman who has n t a cent in the world and be happy all my life. The wretch did n t even have to ask me twice. When he proposed I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and say yes; but habit got the better of me, and I started in to beat about the bush and be tentative, and put him off. But when he said that he would never trouble me again (and he meant it) I simply gave in, and I have been laughing and crying ever since. Friday. I had to tell somebody and get advice (not that I had the slightest inten tion of taking it, if it went against my wishes), and so I ran at once to the vicom- tesse, and before I could tell her she knew. " You have suddenly grown up, my dear," she said. " I hope you will be very happy." Then she made me come and sit on the arm of her chair, and she put her arm around me, and we had a long talk, and she was the dearest, sweetest thing. " Are you very sure of yourself, 152 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Poosy " (I think she means Pussy), " and have you considered the difficulties, the dangers, and the renunciations ? Frankly, I like your young man, but from the worldly point of view, Poosy, what are we to say of him? He is nearing thirty what has he accomplished? Is he a breadwinner, a man likely to get on in the world?" I told her that I thought we could live on what we had even if my dear did n t get on and was n t successful, and she smiled at me a long time. "Pretty Poosy," she said, "I had hoped for you for my brother. Ah, if he had only come ! " That fickle man," I said, " who ad mired my photograph so much that he would never come near me." :< It would have been so beautiful," she went on without hearing. " So much money, such looks on both sides, so many establishments, so many things to do, so large and charitable a life it would have been the world made easy!" 153 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " I think the world is easy enough as it is and very beautiful," said I. " But your religion," she said suddenly. "Have you thought of that? Can you give that up? For this Langeais is a Catholic, is he not? " " I suppose something can be done about it," I said. " My dear," said she, " you need a strong arm to lean on." " I have," said I. " I mean of an older and wiser man," she said. " Other men may be older I began rather sharply. Will you go to the archbishop," she said, " if I give you a letter to him? He is very great and wise. And he will tell you what you must do in this matter." Saturday. I sent my letter in to the archbishop, and he said that he would see me. I marched up to the palace bold as brass, but very much frightened and awed, I don t quite know why. The archbishop was walking in his garden. 154 ELLEN AND MR. MAN It was quite warm out of doors, and, late as it is, there were a few roses blooming, and some violets. There is a little mossy tank in the garden, full of carp, and the archbishop was feeding them with little bits of bread. There were a number of pigeons about his feet, and he was feeding them too. The priest who was accom panying me whispered something to the archbishop, and left us. The archbishop brushed the crumbs from his hands, and turned to me with the quaintest and most courteous little bow. I don t know how old he is, but his hair is white, his face thin and wrinkled and rather austere; but when he smiles there is something very charming and young about him. " You should see my garden in spring," he said, " for then it is nearly as beauti ful as you. Shall we walk, or do you pre fer to go indoors ? " " I love it out here," I said. " I am glad," said the archbishop; " so do I. Shall I show you my famous carp? 155 ELLEN AND MR. MAN We stood side by side at the edge of the tank, and the archbishop pointed out the various fish and told me their ages and characters. All the while I stood there I kept thinking that I was his daughter. " Louis passes," said he; and he pointed to a great, slow-moving, mossy fish with dull eyes. " He has the letters L. R. carved on him," he said, " and they are supposed to stand for Louis Rex and to have been carved by the Grand Monarch himself. These fishes, as you are doubt less aware, live to an incredible age. This Louis of mine, like the great king for whom he is named, is vain, proud, and selfish." And he ran on, talking, laughing, and explaining, and saying pretty things to me, until I could have kissed him. Then quite suddenly he began to talk gravely about the things that count, and then about me and my affairs. You have come to me on a grave mat ter, daughter," he said, " and I have been thinking what to say to you. Just what 156 ELLEN AND MR. MAN your religion means to you I have no way of knowing, and you must tell me; for even a religion lightly held by is not to be given up lightly. Are you strong in faith and in the articles which you have been taught ? Or is your mind open to persua sion and earnest to understand?" "I m afraid," I said, "that I have never thought very much about it. My people were not church-going people. I do truly believe in God," I said; "but what the difference may be between your religion and mine, I m sure I don t know." You do truly believe in God?" said the archbishop. " I do," said I. " Then there is no difference between your religion and mine," he said. " If different sects the world over believed more in God and less in themselves there would not be so much quarreling." " But," said I, " I Ve got to join the church that my husband belongs to, and I don t know how to do it." 157 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " You do truly believe in God? " " I do." " Then already it is as good as done." " But are n t there certain forms to go through, and things to learn, and books that I must read? I ve heard so." " I will appoint a good and wise man to give you instruction." I thanked him. Then he took my hand and patted it. " It is good to be young," he said. I called him " mon pere," and told him that I was so happy that I could n t be sure whether my feet touched the ground or not. " Many years ago," said the archbishop, " I was as young as you. I lived in a land where there were always sunshine and flowers. At about a league from my father s farm there was another farm, about which all my thought and youth centered. When my day s work was ended, and I had come back from the fields, I would put on my Sunday blouse, it was of blue stuff and very handsome, 158 ELLEN AND MR. MAN I thought, patiently comb my stubborn hair before the little cracked mirror in the room of my mother and father, and stride off through the meadows knee-deep in poppies to that other farm. She was not so beautiful as you, but there was something lovely about her face that, for me, is beyond description. I began going when I was a little boy; I kept on going till the day of her death. It was a lovely evening. They told me that she had come in with her arms full of flowers, and that for a long time she had sat silently with the flowers in her lap. Then she had said to her mother, Mother, my head hurts me ( Ma tete me fait douleur ), and then suddenly and hurriedly, as if she feared that there would not be time, she said in a clear voice, Almighty God, be good to Jean ! and one by one the flowers slipped from her lap, and she died. " A little later I came striding through the meadows, and it seemed to me that my heart was in flower. Her old father met 159 ELLEN AND MR. MAN me, and led me to the house, saying over and over (for he was very old), My boy, have God in your heart have God in your heart. Then we pulled off our caps and went in. ... " They left us alone together. They had brought in her bed and laid her upon it, with the flowers about her that she had gathered. They were poppies, red pop pies, and already they had begun to fade. " I sat by her side, and held her cold hand, all that night, and no one came to interrupt us. Just before the first flush of the morning, I seemed to see a great green meadow full of poppies, and stand ing in the midst, God, and she was kneel ing at his feet and praying to him for my immortal soul. Then God, stooping over her, said : Will it make you happy, dear, if I save Jean s soul ? And she said that it would. And God said : But I cannot save Jean s soul all by myself; he must help me. And then, with lovely tears in her eyes, she promised for me that I would be good. 1 60 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " That, my daughter," said the arch bishop, " is why I am an archbishop, and why your face, so beautiful and full of love, is such a solace to my old heart. The old priest has never spoken of this before but something in your face . . . You should see this bush," he said, " when it is covered with camellias." He walked all the way to the gate with me, and made the sign of the cross on my forehead. Have God in your heart," he said, " for there is some one waiting for you." Then he looked quite a long time into my eyes, and tears came in his. " Also for me," he said, " there is some one waiting." n 161 XVII ADAME LA VICOMTESSE (she of the solitaire mountain), in her great and well-known graciousness, asked Ellen to bring Lan- geais and me to tea. We went. Madame was very nice to Langeais, and showed him all the pretty things in her house. She also told him how she had sent Ellen s photograph to her brother, and how she had hoped to kindle a match by so doing. She talked more of her brother than she did of Langeais and Ellen, which, under the circumstances, seemed a little forced. Finally she told Viridique to get down " les albums de monsieur." Viridique brought the fat volumes, and madame selected one of them. " Ellen," she said, " if you and Pat-a-Pouf will sit beside me, and if monsieur will look 162 ELLEN AND MR. MAN over my shoulder, I will show you some pretty pictures." She opened the album, and we saw a vast and shining- house that stood upon a bluff which had its granite feet in a river. A sea-going steamer-yacht tugged at her moorings, and made two long streaks of white in the current. " That is my brother s place in Can ada," said madame " an infinitesimal portion of it. It is on an island which even a good woodman cannot make the length of under three days. The house has upward of a hundred rooms, and there is a stable containing forty horses." She turned the page. " The deer-park. There are," she said, " five square leagues inclosed in wire, in which dwell deer of all kinds, elk and moose and bison. But they are pets; my brother does his shooting in the wild, and enters here only with his camera." There followed a series of wonderful pictures of wild animals, over which I nearly went crazy. Madame turned page 163 ELLEN AND MR. MAN after page, until your mouth fairly wa tered to have such a place of your own. It beat any king s place I ever saw: there were wild woodlands, huge trees, barrens, splendid stretches of shore and river, and over all an atmosphere clear as crystal and intoxicating like champagne. The last picture in that album was of a sunny place in the woods. At the back was a perpendicular rock, from whose midst sprang a curved rod of foaming water that filled the prettiest little round basin at the foot of the rock. Off to the left, half hidden among the trees, was a low rustic structure with a gabled roof. A board walk led from it to the edge of the pool and terminated in a workmanlike- looking spring-board. " Over the fireplace in the bath-house," said madame, " there is engraved a verse which is familiar to you all. You may each have one guess. Ellen? " Ellen had been trying very hard not to be interested in the pictures. " Well," she said, " if that water is as 164 ELLEN AND MR. MAN cold as it looks, I think the verse ought to be: Malbrouk s en va-t-en guerre, Ne sais quand reviendra. " Madame laughed. " And you, Pat-a- Pouf , what do you guess ? " But I, being put upon, could only giggle and stammer. Indeed, even if I had been perfectly calm and alone with Walter or Maurice, I doubt if I should have remem bered any apt poetry about bathing. There is," said Langeais, " only one verse in Canadian literature and I take it that your brother will have drawn from Canadian literature to inscribe his Cana dian place which is suitable." And he hummed : " A la claire fontaine M en allant promener, J ai trouvee 1 eau si belle Que je m y suis baigner." * You have guessed correctly," said madame. 165 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " It was not guessing," said Langeais, " but certainty." "How certainty?" said madame. " Why, look at the picture," said he. Madame smiled and closed the album, while Ellen sent an adoring glance at the sagacious lover. " It must be pleasant," said Langeais, " for a man to give such presents to the woman he loves." :< Far pleasanter," said Ellen, " for him to think that he can make her happy with out giving her anything of the kind." The chocolate-works," said madame, opening a second volume. I won t look at any more pictures," said Ellen, laughing; "you are trying to make us envious, and you are a naughty lady." But just one picture more," said madame. She took up another volume and turned over the leaves rapidly until she found the picture she wanted. It rep resented upward of a hundred little chil dren with caps and dresses just alike. They looked like so many happy little 166 But just one picture more, said madame " ELLEN AND MR. MAN lambs, and six sisters with gentle faces stood among them. I happened to look at Langeais and see that he was blushing violently to the roots of his hair. " Being unmarried, and having no chil dren of his own," said madame, " it pleases my brother to have good care taken of these little orphans." Ellen bent over the picture (she was so easily moved by little children) ; then she said: " He must be a very good man." Madame closed the book. " One more picture," she said. She arose, and crossing to her writing- desk, returned with a photograph which she placed in Ellen s hand. " My brother," she said. Ellen gave a little cry. I do not know quite how, but I was in the next room with madame, and she was laughing softly. But why, then," said Ellen, " have we leased Rue des Guetteries dix for five years? " 167 ELLEN AND MR. MAN We have not leased it," said the choc olate king; "we have bought it. And hereafter no one shall live in that house." The next day, the man who, as Lan- geais, must have felt all the time as sup pressed as a butterfly in a cocoon, began to spend money. 1 68 XVIII 1HE Teaches made a great deal of Christmas that year. There was a surprise waiting for us children in the dining-room at La Chan- terie, and we made an excited group in the hall, waiting for the door to be opened. It was even rumored that there were to be many, various, divers, and enchanting presents for us all. The doors were thrown back, and in we w y ent, with our mouths wide open. There was no standing back to let the little girls go in first. It \vas no time for manners. I had mechanically taken a tight hold of Blanche s hand, and for fully five minutes after we had entered the dining-room I neither let go of it nor seemed conscious of holding it. In the middle of the room a Christmas 169 ELLEN AND MR. MAN tree was in full blaze. But at first sight (and this made us all very nervous) there was nothing that looked like presents. Against one side of the room was a line of tables, upon which, with infinite pains and much ingenuity, Mrs. Teach, aided by Mme. Dupin, had arranged a series of pictures representing scenes connected with the birth of Christ. There were the desert and the wise men and the star, and the manger (with real straw), and little cows and sheep, and angels with wings, and Mary and Joseph; and they were a great wonder to behold, and we admired our hostess for making them, but were still nervous, for as yet there had been no talk of presents or supper. Suddenly, then, the lights went out. There was a sound in the darkness, and when the lights went up, everybody seemed to know what had happened, and, for a little, Blanche and I, holding hands and blushing to the roots of our respective heads of hair, were more the center of attention than the gigantic and florid Santa Claus who, an immense 170 ELLEN AND MR. MAN and bulging pack upon his back, had ap peared among us from Heaven knows where. But then we were forgotten, and little shrieks of rapture and giggles of awe ensued. Only the older children knew that Santa Claus never really ap pears in flesh and blood, that the good saint is old and rheumatic from too much driving in the snow, and has to keep to his mansion in the skies (indeed, any physi cian of standing will tell you that expo sure would be fatal to the old fellow), and that he does his benevolent and generous work the world over through trusted depu ties mothers and fathers and aunts and uncles and old bachelors. But to us little children it seemed that we were in the presence of the real man. And we were particularly pleased that he should select Ellen to help him give out presents. What shall I say of the presents we all got? How had the good saint been able to dis criminate so well, how discover what each child desired before all things, how been able to afford so much? And where, oh, 171 ELLEN AND MR. MAN where did he disappear to when the lights went out, and why, oh, why, when they were relighted, was Ellen discovered blushing, even as Blanche and I had blushed? Langeais but his name now is Claude St. Anne joined us at supper, and the first toast that was drunk (for the grown ups had plenty of champagne) was to Ellen s future happiness and his. After supper we danced and played games. The hall was cleared of rugs, and the first dance was a good old romping Virginia reel (only the Knollys boys called it " Sir Roger de Coverley " ) , in which I danced with Blanche. Then we danced round dances and played musical games in which London Bridge fell down, or one danced in a round " sur le Pont d Avignon." We played blindman s- buff, pom-pom-pull-away, still-pond-no more-moving, oats-peas-beans-and-barley- grows, stage-coach, going-to- Jerusalem (Blanche and I were the last left in, and I slipped and fell gallantly so that she 172 ELLEN AND MR. MAN might win, though more than anxious to be myself the successful pilgrim), kiss-in- the-ring, and all the best games. When ever it was up to me to select the girl I loved the best, and (thank God!) kiss her, I brazenly selected Blanche. And when ever it was her turn, the shy and silent one selected me, so that all that evening my heart beat with a great and returned love. Then, when we had danced and played to our heart s content and to the complete disordering of our clothes, we were made to sit down in long expectant rows, and who should enter to us but the archbishop himself? He made the sign of the cross, and instantly a hush came over us all. " Dear children," he said, " many years ago, on this very night, a little child was born in a manger. If he had not been born, then this night would have been as other nights; there would have been no presents, no dances, no singing, and no games. Little Lord Jesus came into the world to make us happy. I believe that he 173 ELLEN AND MR. MAN was very much like other little children, and that he wanted playthings, and to play and dance just as much as you do. And perhaps, when he was very little indeed, he saw the moon and cried for it, just as we have all done. But when he grew a little older and began to think for himself, he realized that having things for himself and doing things for himself would never, never make him happy. He thought about this a great deal, because he wanted so much to be happy, and after a while he said to himself : Many things give me pleasure; but which gives me the most pleasure? If I can find out that, and never do anything else, why then, of course, I will always, always be happy. And so he questioned himself, and said, Of all my playthings which do I love the best ? For his adopted father was a car penter named Joseph, and sometimes made little toys for his children ; and after holding them all in his arms for a long time, little Lord Jesus decided that the choice lay between his wooden horse and 174 ELLEN AND MR. MAN his little wooden boat. Finally he put the boat to one side. I love the horse best, he said; and then he was terribly afraid lest he might have hurt the feelings of the boat and the other toys, and he tried to make himself believe that he loved them all best, and he took them all back into his arms and played with them. Then he thought over all the occupations of the day, and said to himself, Which gives me the most pleasure ? And it seemed to him that playing with the horses and the cows and the sheep, and gathering the flowers in the fields, were the most pleasant things that he did. But then he remembered that one day, doing these things, he had re mained away from home too long, and re turning, had found his mother weeping with anxiety over him. That had taken away all the memory of pleasure. So he said : Playing all day is not true happi ness, because something may easily hap pen to take away all the pleasure of it. " One day little Lord Jesus was play ing with his toys in front of the house ELLEN AND MR. MAN where he lived. While he was playing a little beggar child came down the road, and leaning on the gate, watched him with wistful eyes. The beggar child had no toys of his own, and he wept to see the toys that little Lord Jesus had; and after a time he begged little Lord Jesus (for he was a beggar child and knew no better) to give him one of them. Little Lord Jesus was only a little child, and it grieved him, the thought of parting with his toys. But there was something in him different from what is in other little boys, and, although himself ready to weep, he took the little wooden horse, his most treasured pos session, and gave it to the beggar child. Such an expression as came over the beg gar child s face little Lord Jesus had never seen before, and, at the sight of it, all desire to weep left him, and instead a wonderful feeling of joy leaped out of his heart and spread all over him. He had found the secret of happiness. It was to make others happy. " Little Lord Jesus after that was dif- 176 ELLEN AND MR. MAN ferent from other children. He forgot his toys and his games, and he thought only of how he might make others happy. God, whose Son he was, had seen that the world and all men were unhappy, and so he had sent him to teach the world and all men the way to be happy. Lord Jesus has taught us that to be happy we must make others happy, not some of the time, but all of the time, and that the only way in which we can bring that about is by being good and pure and forgetting ourselves. But we are slow to understand these things, and although the world is happier than it was, it is not yet perfectly happy. Nearly two thousand years ago, Lord Jesus died on the cross. Many men have given their lives for the cause of happiness, but Lord Jesus did more than that. He gave up every day of his life to that cause. And when the world at length comes to be per fectly happy it will be because Lord Jesus lived and because he died." 12 177 XIX T had never occurred to me but that St. Anne in marrying Ellen was marrying me as well and that I should be an important part of his so many establishments. It was Walter who first told me that three is company and two is none. We were strolling together in the zoological gar den at the time, talking grown-up, and swearing that we would never separate. We were to be African explorers: there was no doubt of that. We were fitted for it by knowledge as well as temperament, for we had both read " King Solomon s Mines " and " She," while in the old days at home I had gone several times through Du Chaillu s first book from cover to cover. We found infinite pleasure in dis- 178 ELLEN AND MR. MAN cussing equipments, the merits of express- rifles versus repeaters, how best to avoid the rush of a wounded buffalo bull, and how to win the dog-like affection of sav age and intractable cannibals. The zoo \vas a fine place for laying plans: one could examine with safety the striped tiger and decide upon the best place to penetrate him with the fatal bullet; one could find the weak point (there is none) in the hip popotamus s harness; and one could be come nearly satisfied as to which part of the gentle venison was the haunch. Wal ter described in detail how he killed his first elephant. It was a perfect Roland of a tale, and I gave him back an Oliver the account of how I circumvented a boa- constrictor and made a right and left on running lions. Then we both told how we met at evening and discussed the day s work over a gourd of palm-wine and our fragrant cheroots. We were regarding a bird of the crane type, very long-legged, having a red top knot and a bill like half a small pickax. 179 ELLEN AND MR. MAN Walter tossed him (I think it was a him) a large and irony piece of bread that had been in his pocket for some days. The crane caught the same and made a beati fic attempt to swallow it without masti cation ; it stuck about a foot from his head and a foot from his body. The crane smiled a silly smile, coughed slightly, and then choked. He was a dignified crea ture, and greatly admired by the other fowls, but choking was too much for his equanimity. He rose some fourteen feet on flapping wings, opened his bill the widest possible, and kicked out violently in every direction under the sun. When he had descended, he ran round in a little cir cle, his bill still wide open, and rose again. After that he danced in the most admirable and fantastic manner, first on one leg and then on the other. By these manceti- vers he succeeded in swallowing the bread. At that calm seized him, and he walked gravely up and own, to the admiration of the other fowls. Walter and I finished our laugh, leaning on the rail that sur- 180 ELLEN AND MR. MAN rounded the aviary. We strolled farther through the garden and sat down on a bench under a big tree. It was some months after the last chapter, and the be ginnings of spring a sort of green mist cast over all growing things, warmth, jon quils, rare tulips, and the songs of birds- were with us. They are going to be married on the first day of May," I said, " it s just been decided, in the cathedral, by the arch bishop." " That 11 be great," said Walter, " and then what becomes of you ? " " Why, I m going to live with them," I said. " But I mean during the honeymoon. You can t go on that." " What s a honeymoon, Walter ? " "Why," said Walter, "when people get married, they like to go away and be alone and talk it over. That s called the honey moon. They usually go to some place they Ve never been to before and get used to living together. They make lots of 181 ELLEN AND MR. MAN mistakes at first, I suppose, and don t want people around to see them." k< How long is a honeymoon? " " I Ve heard of honeymoons lasting for years," said Walter. " Then I don t see what I m going to do," I said, with a quaver. ; I suppose I could stay here and keep house with Eu genie till they came back." We discussed the possibility of my do ing that. " Of course," said I, " I would n t go to school, and I d have you to stay with me, and perhaps we could get a gun and practise shooting in the yard." The next time I was alone with Ellen I asked her point-blank what was to become of me after her marriage. " Why, you are to live with us ! " she said. " But during the honeymoon ? " Ellen laughed. The vicomtesse is going to ask you to visit her until we come back." 182 ELLEN AND MR. MAN " Ellen," I said, " I . have heard of honeymoons lasting for years. I think, though," I added tentatively, " that those must be the kind very stupid people have, because it would n t take years for clever people to get used to each other, would it ? You and Claude ought not to take more than a week," I said, with conviction. Later that same day I had a chance at St. Anne. " Claude," I said, " how long do you think your honeymoon will last? " " Pat-a-Pouf," he said, " I don t think: I know. It will last forever." That was a facer. I was to be enticed to the home of the vicomtesse, there to re main till the end of forever. I restrained my tears with difficulty until I got to my room. There I let them go, until, suicidal and exhausted, I fell asleep. I maintained a dignified calm during dinner, and after dinner I sat apart and wrote a letter to my maternal grandfather, Richard Chestleton. I had never before addressed him. I had seen only his picture. I knew only that he 183 ELLEN AND MR. MAN was my grandfather, and that he lived in Charleston. I began: DEAR GRANDPAPA : Ellen is going to be marred on the first of May and Claude says the honeymoon they are to have is going to last forever and Walter says I can t live with them till it is over so I have no place to go and I thot maybe you would like for me to come and live with you if you would like it I would like it if you would rite and tel me to come I would like to bring Blanche who is an orfan and I will ask misses Teach about it Ellen mite not like it if she new I rote you first so if you want me could you rite as if I had not ritten to you first this is a fotograf of me which I am sending which a man took in January. Your loving Grandson EDWARD HOLINSHED JR. Richard Chestleton proved to be a brick. Two days before Ellen s wedding I re ceived his answer. It ran thus: MY DEAR GRANDSON: I learn that your beautiful aunt Ellen Holinshed is to be married shortly, and I have been thinking that perhaps 184 ELLEN AND MR. MAN you will wish to leave her for a time. Why, then, don t you come to Charleston and make friends with a lonely old man who happens to be your dear mother s father? I cannot prom ise you much during the summer, for it is very hot where I live, but in the autumn, if you like dogs and guns and fine snappy weather, I think we can make things agreeable for you. I will write to your father in New York, and ask him to meet the steamer by which you arrive, and send you on to me, or, if my engagements per mit, I will meet you in New York myself. It is high time we saw something of one another, my dear boy, and something tells me that we shall understand each other and be friends. Your loving grandfather, RICHARD CHESTLETON. Perhaps I did n t assume airs with that letter to back me. " Ellen," I said at dinner, " I have about made up my mind to go home." " Mr. Man," she cried, " what do you mean ! " But when you and Claude come to Canada," I said, " I 11 visit you." " But," said Ellen, " you re to stay with 185 ELLEN AND MR. MAN the vicomtesse for a little while just a little while and then you are going to live with me always." " Ellen," I said, " I want to be an Amer ican." " Pat-a-Pouf," said Claude, " you are talking excellent sense." "But," said Ellen, "if I let you go home, whom will you go to? " I showed my letter. " Oh, Mr. Man ! " cried Ellen when she had read it. " Have n t you been happy with me? Do you want to leave me? " " No, Ellen," I said, " I don t but-" and I burst into tears. They could not shake my determination to go home, for I was homesick. 186 XX PARTED from Blanche only after uttering the most everlast ing vows. The Knollys gave a farewell party to me at Rougemont, and Blanche and I hid behind the lilac- bushes to say good-by. Even at the time it struck me as a peculiarly satisfactory good-by. The shy and silent one burst into the most affectionate loquacity, and indeed offered to marry me inside of three months if I would only stay. I told her that it was impossible for me to stay, but that I would never forget her, and that if she ever married any one else (and I warned her against Maurice) I would keel over and die a miserable death prefer ably by drowning. In addition to kisses (given and taken with more freedom than fancy) we exchanged tokens. My gift to 187 ELLEN AND MR. MAN her was six agate marbles, and hers to me was a little gold locket that had been her mother s. In it was a picture of Blanche herself. And as I look back, it seems to me inexpressibly touching that she should have given me that sacred little treasure. And one of the things that I have had rea son to thank God for is that I have never lost it and never thought lightly of it. For the present, Blanche, hail and farewell ! A trusted servant of St. Anne s was to take me to Havre via Paris and see me embarked on the Lombardie. He was a quiet Englishman who dressed in black and only spoke when spoken to. The Knollys boys came to the station, and, as the train pulled out, they ran along the platform opposite our window, and shouted their last farewells. The train began to distance them, and only Walter, running at top speed, remained in sight. " Neddy," he called, " don t ever forget me." " I won t, Walter," I wailed back. " I won t." 1 88 ELLEN AND MR. MAN For a moment more I beheld the hand some, self-reliant young face, the pure blue eyes turned affectionately meward, and then a gust of wind blew the smoke of the locomotive between us, and I have never seen him since. But it is my firm conviction that the world holds no finer man, and some day I shall make a pilgrim age to find him. I think I wept, face down, on the seat all the way from Tours to Blois. Then I be gan to sit up and take notice a little. My servant had opened the lunch-basket, and everything was in readiness for me to eat. " What is in that jar, Andrews? " " Rillette de Tours, sir." I remember smiling if feebly. 189 Unive So L