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Read Ebook: Phemie Frost's Experiences by Stephens Ann S Ann Sophia
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Ebook has 3018 lines and 136781 words, and 61 pages
"Oh!" says I, with a gasp of relief, "now you speak so that a modest New England woman can understand. So there is a nerve!"
"Peculiarly susceptible in religious and intellectual persons," says he.
"Both limbs," says he, "which a weight carried on the lap is sure to exasperate if it does not end in kinking up the siotic and crippling the l--limbs."
He smiled.
"A sort of one," says he, and, without more words, he took my satchel and sat it down by his, under the seat, as sociable as could be.
After that, he took hold of my hand, as if he was a-going to feel my pulse, looking sweetly anxious.
He gave my hand a hard squeeze, and seemed to ruminate.
"It takes a little time to discover," says he, half closing his eyes. "Be tranquil; there is no danger now. The arm has been in one position rather too long; change was necessary. But this is a change."
Then he gave my hand another squeeze, and, leaning back, shut his eyes entirely.
That minute the engine gave out a sharp yell that nearly scared me to death. The cars heaved a jerk and a jolt, the man on the platform sung out something, and before I could say Jack Robinson, my fellow-passenger made a dive under the seat, dragged out his satchel, and made for the door, bowing as he went, and hustling out something about its being his station.
While I was a-staring after him with all the eyes in my head, the cars gave another jerk, and, splash-bang, away we went, so fast that the man scooting along that platform, waving his hand backwards, seemed to be swimming in fog.
Sisters, I must say that a feeling of lonesomeness fell upon me after he went; his conversation had been so scientific and interesting that I felt the loss.
Besides that, I felt a little hungry, and thought I'd take a bite of something to eat. So I stooped down, lifted the satchel to my lap, and tried to open it.
The lock, it seemed to me, had got a stubborn twist, and wouldn't open; just then the conductor came along, and I gave him a pitiful look.
"Please, sir, help me a little," says I; "it won't open all I can do."
The conductor came forward, snatched hold of the satchel, and wrenched it open.
"Thank you," says I, lifting my eyes to his gaze, and diving my hand down into the satchel, for I meant to give him a doughnut for his politeness; but instead of that luscious cake, my hands sank into a half peck of sawdust packed close in the satchel my fellow-passenger had left behind.
"Look there," says I; "isn't it dreadful, and I an unprotected female?"
"Was your money in the bag?" asks the conductor.
"No," says I, putting one hand up to my bosom, to make sure it was safe. "I always keep my money where--no matter, the--the handsome upstart will have a splendid feast of turnovers and doughnuts, besides a lively drink of cider; but as for money, that is in a safe place."
"And your ticket?"
"That," says I, "not being private property, like money, is kept handier."
With that, I took the ticket from inside of my glove and handed it to him.
"All right," says he, "the scamp hasn't made so much of a haul as he expected."
"But he'll have a sumptuous meal," says I, a little down in the mouth; for I was growing hungry, and not a bite left. Just then a boy came into the cars with a basketful of popped corn on his arm. It looked awfully tempting, for every kernel was turned wrong side out, white as snow. I bought a popped corn of the boy, and pacified myself with that till the cars stopped ten minutes, where there was a mean chance to get something more substantial to eat. I went in with the crowd, helter skelter; wrestled my way to a long counter, got a cup of tea which I swallowed scalding hot, and, after a hard struggle for it, carried a wedge of custard pie off with the palm of my hand for a plate, and skivered back to the cars, nibbling it as I ran; for the bell was ringing and the conductor yelling "all aboard!" so loud that half the passengers went back coughing and choking, and muttering some kind of wickedness as they went.
Well, all the rest of my car ride was just like this, only once in a while a little more so, till I got onto the Sound. There a great large steamboat, a quarter of a mile long, took a part of us in, and carried us right out to sea.
HELL GATE.
I was just a little disappointed in that roaring element. The air that came above it was salty and light, and the waves sparkled beautifully, but they did not rage worth a cent. Still the shores away off on both sides looked dreamy, and we cut through the water so swift that it made me dizzy.
Two or three stylish sort of men seemed as if they were hankering to speak to me as I sat there all alone on deck; but I didn't seem to see it, and they contented themselves with looking at me as if I was the most cruel creature on earth; which I meant to be. The loss of one satchel full of doughnuts and things is as much as I can afford on one trip.
I felt lonesome and almost homesick, but for all that the sight was exhilarating--very.
"Haven't we got almost to New York," says I to the captain; "it seems to me as if the sea was shutting in."
"Oh, we are almost there," says he, "close on to Hell Gate now."
"To what?" says I, almost hopping from the stool I sat on.
"Hell Gate," says he.
"Oh, mercy! you don't tell me it is so bad as that? I knew York was an awful wicked place, but I didn't think an innocent missionary would have to go in it through that gate!"
"It is a little dangerous for sail crafts," says he, smiling, I suppose, to comfort me; "but you are safe. We shall go through with a rush."
I caught my breath.
"Don't ask me; I'd rather not mention his name, being a female who abhors profanity."
All at once the captain's eyes began to sparkle as if he were just longing for a tussle with the evil one.
"Don't be afraid," says he, "I reckon we shall make the gate without much trouble. The blasting won't stop us yet awhile."
"Blasting?"
"Yes; they'll have the all-firedest upheave there, before long, that ever tore a hole in the bottom of the sea."
"Blasting! with fire and brimstone?"
"And nitro-glycerine," says he, as calm as skim milk.
"And you mean to take this big steamboat right through it with me on board?"
He laughed right there in my frightened and pale face.
"I really don't know any other way to reach New York," says he.
"Let me ashore," says I, a starting up, "me and my hair-trunk; I don't care for the produce; it may serve to cool their tongues down there. But put me and my hair trunk on any land. It is all I ask."
"It's impossible," says he.
"Why, we are in it now; don't you see the whirl of the waters?"
"In it now. Oh, mercy!"
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