Watch Yourself Go By Part 23

Alfred visited Plumsock, Cook's Mill, Joshua Wagner's cider press. Even at that early day Alfred had the advertising idea pretty well developed.

Press day the paper was worked off more promptly than usual and Alfred had the entire edition delivered by dark. Harrison had a longer list of complimentary mentions than usual, hence he celebrated more copiously than ever.

Lin learned of this through Alfred. She remarked: "Durn him an' his drinkin'. I'll jes fool him; I'll go out with you all."

This was another jolt for Alfred as Charley Wagner, the violinist of the company, was one of those obstinate Dutchmen who had to be treated "just so," otherwise he would "pack up his wiolin und scoot," as he expressed it. Wagner was fully informed as to the insinuations Lin had indulged in reflecting upon his ability and more than once he had advised Alfred, "If dor beeg Wirginia gal gets anyting to do mid dis troupe, yust count me out."

George Washington Antonio Frazier, the town teamster, had been engaged by Alfred to transport the troupe and properties to and from the little red school-house. A good sleighing snow covering the ground, the teamster had provided a big bob-sled well filled with straw to keep the feet warm. The start was to be made at 1 o'clock.

Alfred finally prevailed upon Lin to walk to the top of Town Hill and get in the sled there. He argued to her that she being the only woman in the party it would not look well for her to ride through town. Lin finally agreed to do as Alfred desired.

Then came another embarra.s.sment. Alfred's brother Joe insisted on going.

He followed his elder brother up and down stairs crying all the while.

Finally it was decided to take the little fellow along. Customs cling to a family the same as other entanglements. Alfred's little brother was handicapped with a crop of curls exact imitations of those that had so embittered the early days of Alfred's life.

When the sled was loaded and all the troupe comfortably seated therein, it was discovered that the driver was not in sight. Alfred knew where to find him and was at his side in a moment. The old fellow was in the act of raising a large gla.s.s of whiskey to his lips as Alfred touched him on the arm and politely announced that the sled was loaded and all were waiting for the driver.

Lowering his arm, with the liquor untouched in his hand, the driver began: "Look yer, young man. You agreed to give me four dollars to carry you out to Redstone School-house an' back. My team'll hev to be fed thur an' I'll hev to eat supper somewhar. Ye'll hev to pay up the money afore I move a dam foot."

With this he raised the liquor to his lips and swallowed it with one gulp. The bar-room was crowded, as it usually was at that hour of the day. For a moment Alfred was confused; he did not possess one cent of money and it flashed through his mind that no one in the troupe would be likely to have any. For just one moment his heart started downwards; the eyes of all were upon him. Pulling himself together and straightening himself up to his full height, he said: "Mr. Frazier, I hired you to haul us to the school-house and return and insofar as your horse feed is concerned, that was not mentioned. I always intended you to eat supper with us at Eliza Eagle's. When you get back to town and complete your part of the bargain I will pay you, and not before."

This speech caught the crowd and took the old teamster somewhat by surprise.

"Wall, ef you'll put up the money with the landlord, I'll take ye out an' ef ye don't ye can hoof it," was the teamster's reply. Turning to the bar-tender, he said: "Give me a little more licker."

The last demand of the teamster was not an unreasonable one and it would not look well to refuse it. Alfred hotly replied: "You'll get your money when you do your work; I would not put up five cents for you while you are drinking whiskey."

This angered the old fellow. He sneeringly replied: "I pay fur my licker an' it's nun uf yer dam business how much I drink uf it."

Through the window Alfred discerned a team and sled driving by. Rushing out he discovered that it was his Uncle Jack Craft. The two families were not on speaking terms and had not been for a long time.

Alfred shouted: "Ho, Uncle! Ho, Uncle! Hold on; pull up, I want to see you."

The uncle seemed more than glad to have Alfred approach him. He did not even wait to hear the whole of the story Alfred had to tell of Frazier's meanness. Driving his much larger and more stylish conveyance alongside Frazier's rig, the pa.s.sengers and baggage were transferred before Frazier realized what had transpired. As he emerged from the hotel he was met with jeers from the troupe as they started off up the old pike, not so rapidly as Alfred and Uncle Joe once traversed it on Black Fan, but at a pace that put all in good humor.

Alfred sat on the front seat holding his little brother and Charley Wagner's violin. It was not solicitude for the safety of the instrument that prompted him to persuade Wagner to permit him to hold it. He figured that if Wagner balked when Lin got in the sled at the top of the hill he would be better entrenched to argue with the obstinate leader with the violin in _his_ hands.

When Lin hailed them by shouting: "How-dye, how's the minstrels?" all greeted her cordially. Alfred had his eye on the leader. While he was not as cordial in his greetings as the others, he smiled and returned Lin's salutations.

Alfred explained jokingly that Lin came along to take care of little Joe and to help Lize Eagle out with the supper.

The party was a merry one and everyone they met was the b.u.t.t of their mirth. Old man Bedler at the toll gate pa.s.sed the party free and wished Alfred all kinds of good luck. The old German's voice trembled and a tear rolled down his bronzed cheek as he shook hands with Alfred and said: "Good luck! Ef my poor Billy was only here he'd be with you."

He referred to his only son who was drowned a few months previously.

Alfred had a.s.sisted in recovering the body and the old toll-gate keeper had the kindliest feelings for him.

It did not require long to arrange the stage and place the few properties. Lin was everywhere busy at all times.

The widow Eagle's humble home was only a short distance from the school-house. Supper was called and Lin and Charley Wagner were seen coming from the school-house together joking and laughing. Lin had captivated the leader. Lin refused to sit at the first table, she declared she would wait and eat with Mrs. Eagle and Mary Emily, the daughter. Meanwhile, she busied herself waiting on the table. She was markedly attentive to the leader, filling his plate even when he protested that he had more than enough.

The leader was an old bachelor. When he got the wishbone of the chicken all insisted that Lin and he pull it. When the leader got the short piece all laughed and joked him; all the party was jolly. No. There was one who was not, although he endeavored to conceal it by laughs and remarks. Lin knew that Alfred was nervous and worried. He was in doubt as to the receipts covering expenses; he was in doubt as to the show pleasing. In fact, he was suffering the tortures all have endured--who have a conscience--who ever produced a public entertainment.

The curtain went up, or rather was pulled aside, on Alfred's first minstrel show. Seated in the semi-circle were Billy Storey, bones and stump speech; Amity Getter, interlocutor or middleman, vocalist and guitar player; the Acklin Brothers, vocalists; Billy Woods, flute and piccolo, guitar and vocalist; Charles Wagner, violin; Billy Hyatt, clog and jig dancer; Tommy White, clog and jig dancer, and Alfred, singer, dancer, comedian, stage manager, property man and superintendent of wardrobe.

The little school-house was packed--sitting, standing and leaning room was all taken, even the window-sills were occupied.

Lin, seated near the stage, was lost in amazement at the improvement in the troupe. Her head nodded and foot patted in time with the tunes with which she was familiar. When Storey and Alfred concluded their double song and dance, (this was a new number to Lin), she led the applause and hustled Uncle Jack back of the scenes requesting the boys repeat the number. Alfred had profited by reading the book Harrison had presented him.

The song and music made a very great impression on Lin. Late and early you could hear her voice as she went about her work singing:

"I feel just as happy as a big sunflower, that bows and bends in the breezes, And my heart is as light as the winds that blow the leaves from off the treeses"

There was but one mishap that marred the evening's performance. The front curtain was run on rings, on a small, tight wire stretched across the entire width of the school house. The curtain that formed a background of the stage, and behind which the performers dressed, was much too heavy for the small nails with which it was secured. Someone pulled on the curtain and down it came. Alfred and one or two others were changing their costumes. Alfred with surprising nimbleness jumped into a large trunk, concealing himself so quickly that the audience caught sight of only his feet as he plunged head first into the trunk.

The other two members were completely confused and ran into a corner turning their backs to the audience.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hatfield and Storey]

Dr. John Davidson and Othey Brashears were seated in the front row, grabbed the curtain and held it head high until all were costumed. It was then replaced and the show went on.

Lin, in commenting on what Alfred considered the most unfortunate accident that ever befell his show, said: "Well, ye jus couldn't call hit a back-set to the show, kase peepul laffed more about hit then anythin' else in the hull thing."

When the last note of the walk around had died out, the audience remained seated, waiting for more, (printed programs were unknown in those days). Getty went before the curtain and announced that the show was over. The crowd began to disperse; the boys from town and some of the country folks forced their way behind the scenes to congratulate Alfred, all declaring that it was the best entertainment they had ever witnessed.

One over-enthusiastic young fellow offered the leader two dollars to have fiddlers play for a dance; in fact many of the young folks desired to turn it into a dance. This seemed like desecration to Alfred and forever after he respected the dignified farmer, Washington Brashears, who, standing stately and tall, with the beard of a patriarch, in a voice mild but firm, said: "We have been entertained by our young friend and his companions in a way that it falls to the lot of but few to enjoy; only those in Filidelphy have the privilege of enjoying such exhibitions as we have enjoyed here tonight. As the chairman of the board of school directors, I can say that we permitted the use of this school-house for the entertainment. It is our only meeting house now, and there will be preaching here next Sunday evening, therefore we cannot permit dancing tonight."

The nearly ice cold, spring water influenced Alfred to go home with the black on his face. The little party and belongings were soon loaded into the roomy sled. Bidding goodnight to the few friends who remained to see them off, they headed homeward.

It was a happy party that sped along the old pike. Lin led in the singing of songs long since discarded by the minstrels. Even Uncle Jack entered into the jollity of the occasion. He was greatly elated over the success of the show.

The spirited team was traveling much faster than safety demanded. At a turn in the road there was a treacherous, slippery place, the sled swung around sideways--skidded would explain the motion--one runner slipped over the edge of the bank, the sleigh turned upside down throwing out the cargo of human freight.

Lin's scream could be heard half a mile. Alfred's only solicitude was for his brother Joe. Uncle Jack held on to the team which was released from the sled by the breaking of the pole. After the occupants extricated themselves it was found that the only serious damage suffered was the breaking of Amity Getty's fine guitar.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

It required the combined strength of all to right the sled and get it up the steep bank to the roadway. The tongue or pole was made fast to the sled with rope and the journey resumed. Up hill, all could ride; down hill all were compelled to walk and hold the sled off the heels of the horses, as the broken pole would not permit the team to hold back.

It was two o'clock in the morning when the welcome lights of the town shone on the belated minstrels. Alfred was too tired and sleepy and the water too cold to wash the black off his face. He crept upstairs to the big room rarely occupied. Not answering the breakfast bell, Sister Lizzie was sent up to call him. One glance at the black face on the pillow sent her scampering down the stairs.

"I believe brother Alfred has brought a darkey home with him. There's one in the big bed any way."

This sent the father upstairs by bounds. Alfred was unceremoniously yanked out of bed and shoved down stairs. When he appeared in the kitchen such laughter as greeted him would have pleased him greatly the night before. Alfred explaining all the while that it was too cold to wash the black off his face the night before and that he couldn't get it off with cold water "no how."

The father insisted that he go to the back yard and scrub his face with cold water as punishment for going to bed blacked up.

To Lin's question as to how much he had made the night before Alfred gave evasive replies. Hastily eating his breakfast he was quickly on his way to Win Scott's home.

Before he had proceeded far on his way he met his pal Scott on his way to Alfred's home. Alfred judged from the size of the audience that there was not only sufficient money in Win's hands to pay all obligations but also a handsome surplus. He was simply crushed to learn that the receipts amounted to just $16.75.