A Voyage Of Consolation, Sara Jeannette Duncan [ebook reader with highlighter .TXT] 📗

But When The Senator

Proposes To Incur Any Danger,  She Always Suggests That He Shall Do It

Over Her Dead Body.

 

I Forget Where We Were At The Time,  But I Know That We Had Only To Walk

Through The Perpetual Motion Of Paris,  Across A Bridge,  And Down A Few

Steps On The Other Side,  To Find The Little Steamer That Took Us By The

River To The Tower. We Might Have Gone By Omnibus Or By Fiacre,  But If

We Had We Should Never Have Known What A Street The Seine Is,  Sliding

Through Paris,  Brown In The Open Sun,  Dark Under The Shadowing Arches Of

The Bridges,  Full Of Hastening Comers And Goers From Landing-Place To

Landing-Place,  Up And Down. It Gave Us Quite A New Familiarity With The

River,  Which Had Been Before Only A Part Of The Landscape,  And One Of

The Things That Made Paris Imposing. We Saw That It Was A Highway Of

Traffic,  And That The Little,  Brisk,  Business-Like Steamers Were Full Of

People,  Who Went About In Them Because It Was The Cheapest And Most

Convenient Way,  And Not At All For The Pleasure Of A Trip By Water. We

Noticed,  Too,  A Difference In These River-Going People. Some Of Them

Carried Baskets,  And Some Of Them Read The _Petit Journal_,  And They All

Comfortably Submitted To The Good-Natured Bullying Of The Mariner In

Charge. There Were Elderly Women In black,  With A Button Or Two Off

Their Tight Bodices,  And Children With Patched Shoes Carrying An

Assortment Of Vegetables,  And Middle-Aged Men In Slouch Hats,  Smoking

Tobacco That Would Have Been Forbidden By Public Statute Anywhere Else.

They All Treated Us With A Respect And Consideration Which We Had Not

Observed In The Avenue De L'Opera,  And I Noticed The Senator Visibly

Expanding In It. There Was Also A Man And A Little Boy,  And A Dog,  All

Lunching Out Of The Same Basket. Afterward,  On Being Requested To Do So,

The Dog Performed Tricks--French Ones--To The Enjoyment And Satisfaction

Of All Three. There Was A Great Deal Of Politeness And Good Feeling,  And

If They Were Not Capi And Remi And Vitalis In "_Sans Famille_," It Was

Merely Because Their Circumstances Were Different.

 

As We Stood Looking At The Eiffel Tower,  Poppa Said He Thought If He

Were In My Place He Wouldn'T Describe It. "It'S Old News," He Said,  "And

There'S Nothing The General Public Dislike So Much As That. Every

Hotel-Porter In chicago Knows That It'S Three Hundred Metres High,  And

That You Can See Through It All The Way Up. There It Is,  And I Feel As

If I'D Passed My Boyhood In Its Shadow. That Way I Must Say It'S A

Disappointment. I Was Expecting It To Be More Unexpected,  If You

Understand."

 

Momma And I Quite Agreed. It Had The Familiarity Of A Demonstration Of

Euclid,  And To The Non-Engineering Mind Was About As Interesting. The

Senator Felt So Well Acquainted With It That He Hesitated About Buying A

Descriptive Pamphlet. "They Want To Sell A Stranger Too Much Information

In This Country," He Said. "The Meanest American Intelligence Is Equal

To Stepping Into An Elevator And Stepping Out Again." But He Bought One

Nevertheless,  And Was Particularly Pleased With It,  Not Only Because It

Was The Cheapest Thing In Paris At Five Cents,  But Because,  As He Said

Himself,  It Contained An Amount Of Enthusiasm Not Usually Available At

Any Price.

 

The Senator Thought,  As We Entered The Elevator At The First Story,  That

The Accommodation Compared Very Well Indeed With Anything In His

Experience. He Had Only One Criticism--There Was No Smoking-Room. We Had

A Slight Difficulty With Momma At The Second Story--She Did Not Wish To

Change Her Elevator. Inside She Said She Felt Perfectly Secure,  But The

Tower Itself She Knew _Must_ Waggle At That Height When Once You Stepped

Out. In The End,  However,  We Persuaded Her Not To Go Down Before She Had

Made The Ascent,  And She Rose To The Top With Her Eyes Shut. When We

Finally Got Out,  However,  The Sight Of Numbers Of Young Ladies Selling

Eiffel Tower Mementoes Steadied Her Nerves. She Agreed With Poppa That

Business Premises Would Never Let On Anything But The Most Stable Basis.

 

"It'S Exactly As Bramley Said," Remarked The Senator. "You'Re Up So High

That The Scenery,  So Far As Paris Is Concerned,  Becomes Perfectly

Ridiculous. It Might As Well Be A Map."

 

"_Don'T_ Look Over,  Alexander," Said Momma. "It Will Fill You With A

Wild Desire To Throw Yourself Down. It Is Said _Always_ To Have That

Effect."

 

"'The Past Ends In This Plain At Your Feet,'" Quoted Poppa Critically

From The Guide-Book,  "'The Future Will There Be Fulfilled.' I Suppose

They Did Feel A Bit Uppish When They'D Got As High As This--But You'D

Think France Was About The Only Republic At Present Doing Business,

Wouldn'T You?"

 

I Pointed Out The Pantheon Down Below And St. Etienne Du Mont,  And Poppa

Was Immediately Filled With A Poignant Regret That We Had Spent So Much

Time Seeing Public Buildings On Foot. "Whereas," Said He,  "From Our

Present Point Of View We Could Have Done Them All In Ten Minutes. As It

Is,  We Shall Be In a Position To Say We'Ve Seen Everything There Is To

Be Seen In Paris. Bramley Won'T Be Able To Tell Us It'S A Pity We'Ve

Missed Anything. However," He Continued,  "We Must Be Conscientious About

It. I'Ve No Desire To Play It Low Down On Bramley. Let Us Walk Round And

Pick Out The Places Of Interest He'S Most Likely To Expect To Catch Us

On,  And Look At Them Separately. I Should Hate To Think I Wasn'T Telling

The Truth About A Thing Like That."

 

We Walked Round And Specifically Observed The "Ecole Des Beaux Arts,"

The "Palais D'Industrie," "Liberty Enlightening The World," And Other

Objects,  Poppa Carefully Noting Against Each Of Them "Seen From Eiffel

Tower." As We Made Our Way To The River Side We Noticed Four Other

People,  Two Ladies And Two Gentlemen,  Looking At The Military Balloon

Hanging Over Meudon. They All Had Their Backs To Us,  And There Was To Me

Something Dissimilarly Familiar About Three Of Those Backs. While I Was

Trying To Analyse It One Of The Gentlemen Turned,  And Caught Sight Of

Poppa. In another Instant The Highest Elevation Yet Made By Engineering

Skill Was The Scene Of Three Impetuous American Handclasps,  And Four

Impulsive American Voices Were Saying,  "Why How _Do_ You Do!" The

Gentleman Was Mr. Richard Dod Of Chicago,  Known To Our Family Without

Interruption Since He Wore Long Clothes. Mr. Dod Had Come Into His

Patrimony And Simultaneously Disappeared In The Direction Of Europe Six

Months Before,  Since When We Had Only Heard Vaguely That He Had Lost

Most Of It,  But Was Inalterably Cheerful; And There Was Nobody,

Apparently,  He Expected So Little Or Desired So Much To See In Paris As

The Senator,  Momma And Me. Poppa Called Him "Dick,  My Boy," Momma Called

Him "My Dear Dicky," I Called Him Plain "Dick," And When This Had Been

Going On For,  Possibly,  Five Minutes,  The Older And Larger Of The Two

Ladies Of The Party Swung Round With A Majesty I At Once Associated With

My Earlier London Experiences,  And Regarded Us Through Her _Pince Nez_.

There Was No Mistaking Her Disapproval. I Had Seen It Before. We Were

Americans And She Was Mrs. Portheris Of Half Moon-Street,  Piccadilly. I

Saw That She Recognised Me And Was Trying To Make Up Her Mind Whether,

In View Of The Complication Of Mr. Dod,  To Bow Or Not. But The Woman Who

Hesitates Is Lost,  Even Though She Be A British Matron Of Massive

Prejudices And A Figure To Match. In Mrs. Portheris'S Instant Of

Vacillation,  I Stepped Forward With Such Enthusiasm That She Was

Compelled To Take Down Her _Pince Nez_ And Hold Out A Superior Hand. I

Took It Warmly,  And Turned To My Parents With A Joy Which Was Not In The

Least Affected. "Momma," I Exclaimed,  "Try To Think Of The Very Last

Person Who Would Naturally Cross Your Mind--Our Relation,  Mrs.

Portheris. Poppa,  Allow Me To Introduce You To Your Aunt--Mrs.

Portheris. Your Far Distant Nephew From Chicago,  Mr. Joshua Peter Wick."

 

It Was A Moment To Be Remembered--We All Said So Afterwards. Everything

Hung Upon Mrs. Portheris'S Attitude. But It Was Immediately Evident That

Mrs. Portheris Considered Parents Of Any Kind Excusable,  Even

Commendable! Her Manner Said As Much--It Also Implied,  However,  That She

Could Not Possibly Be Held Responsible For Transatlantic Connections By

A Former Marriage. Momma Was Nervous,  But Collected. She Bowed A Distant

Wastgaggle Bow,  An Heirloom In The Family,  Which Gave Mrs. Portheris To

Understand That If Any Cordiality Was To Characterise The Occasion,  It

Would Have To Emanate From Her. Besides,  Mrs. Portheris Was Poppa'S

Relation,  And Would Naturally Have To Be Guarded Against. Poppa,  On The

Other Hand,  Was Cordiality Itself--He Always Is.

 

"Why,  Is That So?" Said Poppa,  Looking Earnestly At Mrs. Portheris And

Firmly Retaining Her Hand. "Is This My Very Own Aunt Caroline?"

 

"At One Time," Responded Mrs. Portheris With A Difficult Smile,  "And,  I

Fear,  By Marriage Only."

 

"Ah,  To Be Sure,  To Be Sure! Poor Uncle Jimmy Gave Place To Another. But

We Won'T Say Anything More About That. Especially As You'Ve Been Equally

Unfortunate With Your Second," Said Poppa Sympathetically. "Well,  I'M

Sure I'M Pleased To Meet You--Glad To Shake You By The Hand." He Gave

That Member One More Pressure As He Spoke And Relinquished It.

 

"It Is Extremely Unlooked For," Replied His Aunt Caroline,  And Looked At

Mr. Dod,  Who Quailed,  As If He Were In Some Way Responsible For It. "I

Confess I Am Not In The Habit Of Meeting My Connections Promiscuously

Abroad." When We Came To Analyse The Impropriety Of This It Was

Difficult,  But We Felt As A Family Very Disreputable At The Time. Mr.

Dod Radiated Sympathy For Us. Poppa Looked Concerned.

 

"The Fact Is," Said He,  "We Ought To Have Called On You At Your London

Residence,  Aunt Caroline. And If We Had Been Able To Make A More

Protracted Stay Than Just About Long Enough,  As You Might Say,  To See

What Time It Was,  We Would Have Done So. But You See How It Was."

 

"Pray Don'T Mention It," Said Mrs. Portheris. "It Is Very Unlikely That

I Should Have Been At Home."

 

"Then _That'S_ All Right," Poppa Replied With Relief.

 

"London Has So Many Monuments," Murmured Dicky Dod,  Regarding Mrs.

Portheris'S Impressive Back. "It Is Quite Impossible To Visit Them All."

 

"The View From Here," Our Relation Remarked In a Leave-Taking Tone,  "Is

Very Beautiful,  Is It Not?"

 

"It'S Very Extensive," Replied Poppa,  "But I Notice The Inhabitants

Round About Seem To Think It Embraces The Biggest Part Of Civilisation.

I Admit It'S A Good-Sized View,  But That'S What I Call Enlarging Upon

It."

 

"Come,  Mr. Dod," Commanded Mrs. Portheris,  "We Must Rejoin The Rest Of

Our Party. They Are On The Other Side."

 

"Certainly," Said Dicky. "But You Must Give Me Your Address,  Mrs. Wick.

Thanks. And There Now! I'Ve Been Away From Illinois A Good Long Time,

But I'M Not Going To Forget To Congratulate Chicago On Getting You Once

More Into The United States Senate,  Mr. Wick. I Did What I Could In My

Humble Way,  You Know."

 

"I _Know_ You Did,  Richard," Returned Poppa Warmly,  "And If There'S Any

Little Consulship In Foreign Parts That It Would Amuse You To Fill----"

 

Mrs. Portheris,  In The Act Of Exchanging Unemotional Farewells With

Mamma,  Turned Round. "Do I Understand That You Are Now A _Senator_?" She

Inquired. "I Had No Idea Of It. It Is Certainly A Distinction--An

American Distinction,  Of Course--But You Can'T Help That. It Does You

Credit. I Trust You Will Use Your Influence To Put An End To The

Mormons."

 

"As Far As That Goes," Poppa Returned With Deprecation,  "I Believe My

Business Does Take Me To The Capitol Pretty Regularly Now. But I'D Be

Sorry To Think Any More Of Myself On That Account. Your Nephew,  Aunt

Caroline,  Is Just The Same Plain American He Was Before."

 

"I Hope You Will Vote To Exterminate Them," Continued Mrs. Portheris

With Decision. "Dear Me! A Senator--I Suppose You Must Have A Great Deal

Of Influence In Your Own Country! Ah,  Here Are The Truants! We Might All

Go Down In The Lift Together."

 

The Truants Appeared Looking Conscious. One Of Them,  When He Saw Me,

Looked Astonished As Well,  And I Cannot Say That I Myself Was Perfectly

Unmoved When I Realised That It Was Mr. Mafferton! There Was No Reason

Why Mr. Mafferton Should Not Have Been At The Top Of The Eiffel Tower In

The Society Of Mrs. Portheris,  Mr. Dod,  And Another,  That Afternoon,  But

For The Moment It Seemed To Me Uniquely Amazing. We Shook Hands,

However--It Was The Only Thing To Do--And Mr. Mafferton Said This Was

Indeed A Surprise As If It Were The Most