Watch Yourself Go By Part 29

Therefore, Alfred was welcomed by the entire family.

All jumped out of the wagon except Tom White; he began unloading the parcels, tossing them on the sidewalk. Out came the carpet-sack loaded with chinaware. It struck the ground with a crash.

"There goes mother's china teapot smashed all to h--ll," piteously whimpered the boy who furnished the dishes. He began to climb into the wagon, vowing he would throw Tom White out quicker than he threw his mother's teapot out. Tom was ready for fight and Eli had all he could do to keep the boys apart.

All this was great amus.e.m.e.nt for the natives. "Let 'em go," one shouted, "Let 'em fight; we'd ruther see the fight then yer show."

The large room of the tavern was filled with minstrels and town folks.

"Purty long ride ye hed fur such a big load," remarked one towner. Ere Alfred could reply, a big gawk chimed in with: "By the dust on their britches laigs I callerate they didn't ride much." Then all the crowd laughed.

The pike was very dusty and the minstrels showed the effects of their contact with it. "Well, ef they haint got a good show we'll gin 'em a ride they won't furgit. Yes, an' the rail'll be three cornered. How many monkeys has they?" yelled another. Then came quickly, "I dunno, I haint counted 'em yit." This sally brought the biggest laugh yet heard.

Alfred's blood was boiling; he could stand it no longer. His fist shot out and immediately there were legs and arms sprawling all over the floor; the crowd trampled each other as they stampeded, all endeavoring to exit through the one door at the same time. Once outside, several of them, more bold than the others, began making threats and movements to re-enter and bring Alfred out. At this juncture the old stage driver and Eli waded into them and soon there was not one of the rowdies to be seen.

Alfred was hustled upstairs and into a room and ordered to remain quiet until further developments. The constable was soon on the scene with warrants for Eli and the old driver. They were taken before a justice of the peace and, by the advice of Mr. Guttery, they requested a continuance of the case until the following morning. This was granted.

A few moments later, three or four of the minstrels were arrested. Not one of them had engaged in the disturbance; they demanded an immediate trial, feeling certain of acquittal. No evidence was offered as to their partic.i.p.ation in the fight. Several residents of the town swore positively that none of the accused had engaged in the row in any way.

One witness testified that they had just stood around doing nothing.

This he emphasized by repeating at intervals in his testimony, "They just stood around doing nothing."

The evidence all in, the justice of the peace addressed them somewhat as follows: "You have been arrested charged with disturbing the peace. The evidence goes to show that you are not guilty of that crime; therefore, on that count I will discharge you, the borough to pay the costs. But it appears by the testimony of one of your own witnesses, one of our most reliable citizens that you were standing around doing nothing.

Therefore, I will fine you two dollars each and costs for loitering."

By the advice of the landlord the costs were paid by Mr. Eli and the fines were to be paid the next morning when the other cases were called.

The minstrels that night were slimly attended.

In the middle of the night Alfred was rudely disturbed by someone awakening him. "Git up, git up, quick! We've got to git out of this town or it'll take all the money I've got to square the fight you started yesterday. Git up quick!"

It was Eli's voice and he was very thick tongued; he had been up all night. The team was harnessed and hitched to the wagon. The landlord was there to see the sleepy minstrels off. The last good-byes were scarcely spoken ere the door of the big room was closed by the landlord and the lights put out. It was inky dark to Alfred as he sat on the high seat by the driver and heartily wished himself home.

It came out later that the landlord and one or two others advised Eli to get the minstrels into Greene County ere the eyes of the law opened the next morning. Hence the 3 a. m. exodus.

Arriving at Carmichael's Town after a long and tiresome ride, the minstrels found Tom Kerr, the jolly landlord of the tavern, with a dinner ready that changed their minds from gloom to gayety.

The minstrels were well advertised. Winn Kerr, Lias and Dee Flannigan had witnessed their entertainment previously, hence the town turned out to welcome them. Wealth flowed in upon Eli and all went merry as a dinner bell. But Eli had great difficulty in tearing himself away from old and new found friends.

The regular minstrel wagon was not large enough to carry Eli the next morning, consequently Jim Kerr carried Alfred and Eli to Waynesburg in a private rig. Again the crowd was too large for the courthouse; again Eli made friends who detained him after the departure of the troupe.

Alfred refused to remain behind with Eli but left with the minstrel boys.

Eli failed to arrive in the next town in time to open the doors. The crowd was more than ample to fill the hall. Alfred took the door and made settlement of bills. Eli arrived during the night. The next morning Alfred and two others advised Mr. Eli that they had received word from home that their engagement with the minstrels must end.

When Eli came to his senses he appealed to Alfred to explain why they had decided to quit. Alfred said: "Because you have been drunk ever since the show left Brownsville and the boys are afraid you will not pay them."

That night Eli invited all the company to meet him in his room at the tavern. By the time the boys arrived Eli was so saturated he forgot that which he desired to say to them. Instead he insisted on drinking with each one individually, he scorned to drink with the company as a whole.

"I want you all to know me. If you want money, I've got slathers of it."

All wanted money and they got it. And they spent it. Gaudy bows and ties, striped shirts, congress shoes and other dependables never possessed by the wearers previously, began to make their appearance. Eli was voted the best ever. Those who had threatened to leave because Eli imbibed too freely were termed Methodists and back-biters.

Fairmount reached, the old stage driver and his team left for home. From this point the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad was to be the mode of travel, a change hailed with delight. Some began figuring on how many days it would be until the minstrels invaded Baltimore.

Two nights were played at Fairmount; the first night a large, well pleased audience attended. More invitations to Eli's room, more liquor ladled out and more money handed around to the company. On the second night there was a very light attendance; a long hunt to find Eli ere bills could be paid and the company could move on to Grafton. Eli had decided to remain in Fairmount until the next train.

Morgan, the advance agent, accompanied the minstrels to Grafton. Morgan took the night's receipts. The next morning he could not be located nor did Eli make his appearance. The minstrels watched and waited; the day wore along. Finally, it was decided that the performance would be repeated that night.

A man walked over the town, ringing a bell as he went. Halting at short intervals he loudly announced the second exhibition of the minstrels at early candle light. The landlord of the tavern volunteered to look after the financial end of the enterprise. After the exhibition he called the boys together and advised that after his bill and other expenses were deducted, there would be enough left to pay their railroad fare to Fairmount and that they would probably find Eli there.

Arriving at Fairmount it was learned that Eli had left for Baltimore the night before. It came to light that Morgan had left on the same train, boarding it as it pa.s.sed through Grafton. Some members of the company contended that Eli had gone on to Baltimore to arrange for their coming and that they would hear from him or see him soon. Others, that he had left for good.

The four musicians, men who had seen more of the world than the ambitious amateurs, boarded a train for Wheeling. Alfred decided that he and his followers would make their way to New Geneva and there board the boat for home. Loading their few belongings, including Alfred's hair trunk with the bra.s.s tack ornaments, into a farm wagon drawn by two big bay mules, the homeward journey was begun. Not in dejection, as one might imagine, the boys were too full of spirit to be cast down greatly.

One or two began to fret but the jibes of the others soon had all in good humor.

The roads through the hilly, muddy country were not as firm as those previously traversed, a contingency the boys had not taken into consideration. At times the mules were unable to move the wagon, even though all the minstrels were pushing or prying to the extent of their muscular power. Instead of dust, as on the first day out, the minstrels were covered with mud, from shoes to hats.

Arriving at New Geneva, mud bespattered, tired and hungry, they congregated on the old wharf boat until the steamer was heard coming below the bend. When the boat hove in sight, her prow cutting the water, it was the most welcome sight Alfred ever remembered witnessing. Safely aboard, it was found that not in the whole party was there enough money to pay the fares to Brownsville. Therefore deck pa.s.sage had to be taken and without meals.

George Warner, the colored steward, knew every one of the boys. One by one they were smuggled into the pantry and a meal that was never excelled given each one.

It was two o'clock in the morning when the boat touched at Brownsville.

Alfred determined to carry his trunk home with him. Hoisting it on his broad shoulders he began the walk up the hill homewards; every little ways lowering the burden to the ground, he would seat himself upon it pondering as to the tale to tell of the ignominious ending of his dream of prosperity. He thought of Lin's parting words: "I hope ye bring the koon skin hum," and he could not suppress his laughter.

He brought the big iron knocker down rather lightly, hoping only Lin would hear it. He did not care to face his father or mother until he got a little more courage. Again the knocker was raised and lowered, a little louder than before. The window sash above was raised and the father's voice, gruffer than Alfred had heard it in a long time, demanded, "Who's there?"

Alfred hesitated to give his name.

"Who's there?" louder and more gruffly than before, impelled the boy to answer: "It's me."

"Who's me?" came from the window quickly.

"Oh, come on down, Pap, let me in. It's me, Pap, don't you know me?"

Alfred was so crestfallen and ashamed that he could not bear to speak his own name. "In a minute, Alfred," came in a more kindly tone as the father's head was withdrawn from the window. Then the father's voice was heard informing the mother, "The boy's back."

It flashed through the boy's mind that the conditions that brought him home so unexpectedly were known only to himself and he could stave off unpleasant explanations for a time at least.

The door opened, the father shook his hand heartily. "How are you? How have you been? We've been expecting you. How did you get out of the trouble in Bealsville? The _Clipper_ says you were all jerked up and slid out between two days."

The mother and all the children were up. Lin insisted on setting out a pie and making a hot cup of coffee. Alfred was highly complimented that he had kept his promise to return. Alfred accepted the praises with a conscience stricken feeling that kept him miserable under his a.s.sumed gaiety.

The first time Lin and Alfred were alone in the kitchen, she turned full on him as she asked in a deeply interested way: "How much did ye make outen yere trip?"

The question was so direct and without warning that Alfred dropped his gaze and began stammering. Lin continued: "There's somethin' ded about yer; I smelled a mice the minnit I seen yer face. Jes let hit out, ye'll feel better. I'll help ye. Where's Eli? Where's the other boys?"

Alfred gave Lin the whole miserable story, neither adding to it nor concealing anything. Lin summed up the matter thus: "Ef ye're out enything ye kin sue Eli. His m.u.t.h.e.r'll settle."

They figured it up, Alfred was a little in Eli's debt. "Then what ye palaverin' 'bout, ye've done all right?"

"But it's the disappointment of the thing, the way it wound up and it looked so promising," whined Alfred.