Zigzag Journeys in Europe - novelonlinefull.com
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and whose talk was like a row of exclamation points; and a sentimental Italian fiddler, in very poor dress, going back to the beauties of Naples and the dreamy airs and skies of "Etalee."
[Ill.u.s.tration: {TWO OF OUR FELLOW TRAVELLERS.}]
Tommy Toby seemed to gravitate towards these people, when his sea-sickness was over.
"I likes zis American poy," said the Frenchman. "Intelegent! Has ze activitee; agilitee; very great prom-ese!"
"Our country must be very different from yours," said Tommy, one day.
"Veery, veery different indeed! Wonderful countree,--delightful! What grand rivers! what waterfalls,--Niag-e-ra! what lakes! Room for all ze world! Hospitalitee for all ze nations!"
"The Frenchman says our country is the most wonderful in all the world," said Tommy to the portly Englishman.
The latter looked very solemn; seemed about to speak, then made a long pause as though the opinion he was about to utter was a very weighty one.
"Poverty to riches, riches to poverty; now up, now down, but the animating principle always the same,--riches, riches. Wonderful people! progress! each one living to outdo the other. To-day an alderman, to-morrow in the penitentiary; to-day my Lady of Lynne, to-morrow John o' the Scales's wife!"
Tommy had an idea of what his lugubrious acquaintance meant to say, though the latter's wisdom was rather above his intellectual stature.
"We have no castles in America," said Tommy.
"Castles! No; an American family could not keep a castle: it would be sold in five years for a mill."
[Ill.u.s.tration: {A STEERAGE Pa.s.sENGER.}]
Tommy's face was always very bright after talking with the Frenchman, but lengthened out during the interview with his English friend. He usually retired discomforted from the latter, to seek comfort in the steerage from the lively Italian's fiddle.
There was a bright girl on board, named Agnes,--the daughter of a Boston gentleman, who was going abroad for a year. She was a social miss; witty, yet polite; speaking to every one freely, without being intrusive.
On the evening of the sixth day, nearly all the pa.s.sengers were in the saloon. Agnes was asked to sing. She winningly said,--
"I will do my best, if agreeable to all." She asked to be excused a moment, and presently returned with a broad-rimmed hat and a basket, and wandering carelessly up and down the saloon sang "The Beggar Girl."
"Over the mountain, and over the moor, Hungry and barefoot I wander forlorn.
My father is dead and my mother is poor, And she grieves for the days that will never return.
Pity, kind gentlefolk, Friends of humanity, Keen blows the blast and night's coming on; O give me some food For my mother, for charity; Give me food for my mother, and I will be gone."
Agnes presented her basket to one and another of the pa.s.sengers, as if to solicit contributions as the song went on. All were pleased with the diversion, and it was proposed to have some other amus.e.m.e.nts during the evening.
Agnes arranged some impromptu charades: one on _Ingratiate_ (in grey she ate); another on _Cowhiding_ (cow hiding, in which she personated a milk-maid calling "Co boss, co boss!" and afterwards the same maid cowhiding a boy for hiding her cow). Agnes selected Tommy Toby to a.s.sist her in this last amusing tableau.
Agnes next appeared as a mind-reader. Before this last role, however, she was observed having a confidential chat with Tommy Toby.
"Now," said she, "if any of you are interested in clairvoyance, I shall be pleased to give an exhibition of the science. You may not know I am a mind-reader."
"She probably has been reading Master Toby's mind already," said her father, smilingly looking over his paper.
"Oh, father!"
"If each of you will write a word on a slip of paper, I will have the slips collected and put on my forehead; and I will take them from my forehead one by one, but before I take each one down, I will tell what is written upon it."
All wrote some word.
"Will some one collect the slips?" she asked.
"I will," said her father.
"I think as Thomas Toby is _spry_, I shall have to ask him to do me the favor."
"How I wish I were _spry_!" said her father.
The slips were collected. Tommy put them all on her forehead. She put up her fingers and held them there, and Tommy took a seat with his friends.
Agnes seemed in reverie. Then she said emphatically,--
"On the first slip is written 'Boston!' Who wrote that?"
"I," said Tommy Toby.
"Then it is correct?"
"Yes."
She took the slip from her forehead and laid it in her lap, saying as she did so,--
"It is not written very plainly, either."
So one by one she read all the slips. Each pa.s.senger acknowledged the writing of each announced word, after it had been correctly given by Agnes. First, the correct readings awakened wonder, then positive excitement. The experiment was repeated at the request of all, with the same wonderful result.
The diversion was reproduced on the following evening, and even Master Lewis failed to see how the girl read the slips. It was noticed, however, that Tommy Toby always collected the slips, and acknowledged writing the first word. Agnes also examined each slip closely as she took it down, as if to verify the results of her very penetrating mind.
[Ill.u.s.tration: JOAN OF ARC.]
The secret of the trick was that Tommy always placed what he had written at the bottom of the slips, or last; but he acknowledged to have written what was taken from the forehead first. This gave Agnes the opportunity of reading each slip as she laid it in her lap, and of announcing what she read as though it were written on the _next_ slip on her forehead.
One evening, when Master Lewis and the boys were talking of the historical places they expected to visit, Agnes approached pleasantly and said, "I have a conundrum for you."
"What is it?" asked Master Lewis.
"What was Joan of Arc made of?"
The boys were unable to guess.
"Suppose you tell us the story of Joan of Arc, Master Lewis," said Wyllys. "Then, perhaps, we will be able to decide."
"Yes, please," said Agnes. "I should be delighted to hear the story."