My Life: or the Adventures of Geo. Thompson Part 7

"Come up out o' that!" cried I, "leave the room, instantly."

The landlady vanished with a celerity that was rather remarkable, considering her extreme corpulence.

After a short pause, Mrs. Raymond said to me--

"You see to what abuse my circ.u.mstances subject me."

"Would to G.o.d my circ.u.mstances were such as to render you that a.s.sistance you so much need; would that I could raise you from such unendurable misery! But to speak without equivocation, my condition is as penniless as your own."

"Then you can, indeed, sympathize with my distress."

"Most sincerely; but you must not go alone in quest of that villainous husband;--and money will be necessary."

"This harp will--"

"Oh, no--you can never part with it."

"I must."

"Then let it be but temporarily. There is a p.a.w.nbroker's shop on the next square, there we can redeem it--if you can for a time endure to have it removed from your sight."

"No matter," said my heroine, undauntedly, "a wronged woman can endure anything when she is in pursuit of vengeance. The weather is delicious; we will travel leisurely, and have a very pleasant time. Should our money become exhausted, we will solicit the hospitality of the good old Pennsylvania farmers, who are renowned for their kindness to travellers, and who will not refuse a bite and a sup, or a night's shelter, to two poor wanderers. If you refuse to accompany me, I will go alone."

"I will go with you to the end of the earth!" I exclaimed, with enthusiasm, for I could not help admiring the n.o.ble courage of that beautiful woman, whose splendid countenance now glowed with all the animation of antic.i.p.ated vengeance.

She pressed my hand warmly, in acknowledgement of my devotion; and then, having put on her bonnet and shawl, she announced herself as being in readiness to set out.

"I have no valuables of any kind," said she, "and the landlady is welcome to this furniture, which will discharge my indebtedness to her.

I shall return to this house no more."

I shouldered the harp, and we left the house without encountering the amiable landlady.

To reach the nearest p.a.w.nbroker's, it was necessary to pa.s.s through one of the princ.i.p.al streets. To my dismay a crowd of actors, reporters and others were a.s.sembled upon the steps of a hotel. The rascals spied me out before I could cross over; and so, putting on as bold a front as possible, I walked on pretending not to notice them, while a "running commentary," something like the following, was kept up until I was out of hearing:

"_Stag his knibbs_,"[H] said the "heavy man" of the Arch street theatre.

"Thompson, give us a tune!" bawled out a miserable wretch of a light comedian, or "walking gentleman."

"Jem Baggs, the _Wandering Minstrel_, by G----!" yelled a pitiful demon of a newspaper reporter.

"Who is that magnificent woman accompanying him?" inquired a dandy editor, raising his eye-gla.s.s and surveying my fair companion with an admiring gaze.

"Egad! she's a beauty!" cried all the fellows, in a chorus. Mrs. Raymond blushed and smiled. It was evident that these expressions of admiration were not displeasing to her.

"Excuse those gentlemen," said I to her, apologetically--"they are all particular friends of mine."

"I am not offended; indeed they are very complimentary," responded the lady, with a gay laugh. She had the most musical laugh in the world, and the most beautiful one to _look at_, for it displayed her fine, pearly teeth to the most charming advantage.

We reached the p.a.w.nbroker's and I went boldly in while Mrs. Raymond waited for me outside the door, for I did not wish her to be exposed to the mortification of being stared at by those who might be in the shop.

The p.a.w.nbroker was a gentleman of Jewish persuasion, and possessed a nose like the beak of an eagle. He took the instrument and examined it carefully,

"Vat is dish?" said he, "a harp? Oh, dat is no use. We have tousands such tings offered every day. Dere is no shecurity in mushical instruments. Vat do you want for it?"

"Ten dollars," I replied, in a tone of decision.

"Can't give it," said the Israelite--"it ish too moosh. Give you eight."

"No," said I, taking up the harp and preparing to depart.

"Here, den," said _my uncle_, "I will give you ten, but only shust to _oblishe_ you--mind dat."

I duly thanked him for his willingness to _oblige_ me. Uncle Moses gave me the ticket and money; and I left the shop and rejoined Mrs. Raymond, to whom I handed over the duplicate and the X.

"I will take the ticket," said she, smiling--"but you shall keep the money, for I appoint you my cashier."

At the suggestion of my fair friend we now sought out a cheap second-hand clothing establishment, which, fortunately, was kept by a woman, who, when matters were confidentially explained to her, readily entered into our plan. Mrs. Raymond and the woman retired into a rear apartment, while I remained in the shop.

Half or three-quarters of an hour pa.s.sed away. At last the door of the inner apartment was opened and there entered the shop a young person whom I did not immediately recognize. This person seemed to be a very beautiful boy, neatly dressed in a cloth jacket and cap, and possessing a form of the most exquisite symmetry. This pretty and interesting lad approached me, and tapping me playfully upon the cheek, said--

"My dear fellow, how do you like me now? Have I not made a change for the better? How queenly I feel in this strange rig!"

It was of course Mrs. Raymond who addressed me. Her disguise was perfect; never before had I seen so complete a transformation, even upon the stage. No one would have suspected her to be otherwise than what she seemed, a singularly delicate and handsome boy, apparently about sixteen years of age.

I congratulated the lady upon the admirable appearance which she made in her newly adopted costume, but expressed my regret that she should have been compelled to part with her magnificent hair.

"There was no help for it," said she, laughing. "I confess that I experienced some regret when I felt my hair tumbling from my shoulders; but the loss was unavoidable, for those tresses would have betrayed my s.e.x. This good woman, here, proved to be a very expert barber."

Reflecting that a coa.r.s.e suit of clothes would be just as good and better, for a dusty road, than a fine suit of broadcloth, I made a bargain with the proprietress of the shop to exchange my garments for coa.r.s.e ones of fustian, she giving me a reasonable sum to counter-balance the great superiority of my wardrobe. This arrangement was speedily completed, and I found myself suddenly transformed into a rustic looking individual, who, in appearance, certainly deserved the t.i.tle of a perfect "greenhorn."

All parties being satisfied, I and my fair companion departed. In the evening, having supped, we went to the theatre, where I revenged myself upon the "heavy man," and the "light comedian," who had in the afternoon made merry at my expense for carrying the harp, by getting up a hiss for the former gentleman, who knew not one single word of his part, and by hitting the latter individual upon the nose with an apple, for which latter feat (as the actor was a great favorite,) I was hounded out of the theatre, and narrowly escaped being carried to the watch-house. I and my fair friend then took lodgings for the night at a neighboring hotel.

FOOTNOTES:

[F] Some people imagine that New Jersey belongs to the United States.

That opinion I hold to be erroneous.

[G] In this, as in several other cases, I have used a fict.i.tious name, inasmuch as a number of the persons alluded to in this narrative are still living.

[H] It is not generally known among "outsiders," that circus people and actors are in the habit of using among themselves a sort of flash language which enables them to converse about professional and other affairs without being understood by outside listeners. If I had room, I could relate many amusing anecdotes under this head. "_Stag his knibbs_"

signifies "_Look at him_."

CHAPTER VI

_In which is introduced a celebrated Comedian from the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London._