Part 4

He was going to make a trip over a route that he had never traveled before, and he told me it would give me an insight into life that I couldn’t get in any other way. I went and the first town we struck was a little place up in northern Kansas, and the first office we got into was plastered all over with temperance signs. I took a look at Harry to see how he took it, but it never feazed him. He introduced himself to Mr. Brown, the proprietor, and then introduced me as his cousin and said I was traveling for my health. Then he dropped into a chair by the side of Brown and reeled off a string of temperance talk that would have put the average temperance lecturer in the ditch. I never knew what a fearful thing drink was before. Harry fairly cried when he told the dealer how his father and three sisters went to the bad on account of drink. Then Harry told him a story about a man who sold his wife’s washboard for drink, and, said Harry:

“Just think, she was the only support of her husband and six little children;” then they both cried. We spent two hours in that office and when it was almost train time Harry mentioned his business and took an order for eight cars of lumber. We made a quick get-away to catch the train, and I want to say right here that I was feeling sort of punk about that story of Harry’s three sisters. After we got seated in the car and I found I could not keep the destruction of Harry’s family out of my mind, I said to him:

“Harry, is your father dead?”

“Dead, well I should say not! He is preaching down in Swampscott, Massachusetts, and holding his own with the best of them.”

“And those sisters of yours?” I added.

“Oh, yes, those sisters, I see now. Well, you see Jack, I never had any sisters, that’s why I can put them to the bad so easy. It’s like this, Jack, every one you meet has to have what they call down south, ‘Lagniappe;’ in the north we call it perquisites or graft. In reality it is a tip given by one person to another. Now, a salesman is called on to give out more kinds of tips and give them out in more different ways than any other man that travels. Sometimes we give cigars, sometimes it’s a drink or a dinner, and sometimes soft-soap, and other times its tears, but to be a success on the road you must give something.”

“Don’t you ever make a mistake in giving?” said I.

“Never did but once.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Not much to tell, Jack. I gave a man the measles once and lost his trade.”

He was so nervous about that I felt for a moment that he had walked into some fellow’s office and handed out a package marked “measles,” expecting to make a hit by doing it.

The next dealer we struck was a little, under-sized, florid man, who had a twinkle in his eye that put you in good humor at once. This time Harry introduced me as a druggist out of a job, and Mr. Wise, the dealer, asked me if I was a good judge of spiritus frumenti.

“Try him,” said Harry, and Mr. Wise started for his sash house, motioning for us to follow. We went to the farther end of the sash house and there down inside a pile of sash Mr. Wise fished out a bottle of whiskey. I tasted of it.

“It’s rotten,” said I, and it was. Harry laughed and pulling a pint flask from his pocket, said:

“I told Jack to say that so I could offer you a pint of the best that’s made.”

It was good, and although Mr. Wise did not know the difference, he pretended he did and we didn’t do a thing to that pint bottle between us in about ten minutes. The talk of the morning had made me so dry I could hardly stand it. Harry got an order for three cars at that place and then nothing of real worth turned up for a couple of days.

It was always “nuts” to me to see Harry deal out the tips, as he called them, and when we struck a new lead and were working up a new game, he would say:

“I wonder what this geezer will take, cigars, whiskey, or soft-soap?”

One morning about eight o’clock we came in sight of a lumber yard with a small office; standing above on the top of the office was a signboard on which was painted Capt. J. J. Jones. I called Harry’s attention to it and said:

“How is that for conceit?”

Harry commenced counting on his fingers:

“One, two, three, four, five. That’s the checker, Capt. Jones, J. J., you are my meat. He needs the army tip and I’m the boy who can tip him.”

We walked into the office, there were three men there. Harry never hesitated a moment but walked up to one of them, held out his hand, and said:

“Captain Jones, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. There is not a man who ever fought in the Civil War that I would not go miles to see. I have always felt sorry that I did not live in those stirring times. What regiment were you in, Colonel?”

“The—the——Pennsylvania,” said Mr. Jones, “and there was no finer regiment in the service.”

The other two men had gone out of the office.

“Colonel,” said Harry, “it must have been grand to have led such a regiment as that on the field of battle; it must have been awe-inspiring to have sat there on the different horses that were shot from under you, giving your orders to the staff officers for this battalion to charge or that battalion to take a certain point of vantage. I can see you now, as you sat upon your milk-white steed, raise up in your stirrups and a determined look in your fearless face, wave your sword and say, ‘Follow me, men, victory is ours!’ Oh, but it must have been grand. I tell you, General, I cannot help but envy you just a little and I will confess why. During the Spanish War I enlisted seven times, and each time I was left behind because my height was too great for my width. It is awful, General, to be so afflicted. Now had I your commanding figure (Mr. Jones was round-shouldered and bow-legged), I might have died for my country, and had I a noble brow like yours (Mr. Jones’ forehead sloped back like that of an ape), I might at least have married the daughter of a Moro chief and been court-martialed after I got home for leaving her with my mother-in-law.”

Harry was really out of breath and Capt. Jones broke in and said:

“You don’t belong in this town, do you? Are you a traveling man?”

“Yes,” said Harry, with a sigh, “I am a lumber salesman, but General, tell me of some of the rivers you swam and of some of the hair-breadth escapes you have been through. I could stay here all day and feast on your words. You knew Grant and Sherman and Lee well, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” said Capt. Jones, “I have seen them all, but say, what are two-by-fours worth, delivered here?”

Harry woke up with a start.

“By Jove, I must have forgotten myself.” He took a price list out of his pocket and throwing it on the desk in front of the captain, said:

“There are my prices, General, if you want anything pick it out, but let me sit down here near you and gaze on a man who at one time was a friend and confidant of General Grant.”

Talk about spreading it on thick, slush, and all that—well, when we left the mighty man of war, Harry had orders for seven cars of lumber.

“Gee! that’s a good order,” said Harry, “I wonder if the bow-legged old chimpanzee is good for that much all at once.”

One night we got into a dealer’s office about six o’clock; the dealer was just shutting up to go home. Harry always introduced me differently to every one we met and it happened that at this particular office he introduced me as a theological student. I was not at all surprised, as he had introduced me as almost everything.

The dealer invited us to go with him for supper. I wanted to cut it out, but Harry leaned towards the house, as I suppose he thought he saw an order ahead. When we sat down to supper, there were besides Harry and myself, the dealer, his wife and six boys ranging from twelve to twenty years of age. They had a whole roast pig for supper, but it was the smallest pig I ever saw, either dead or alive. I was hungry and as I looked around that table and saw the anxious eyes that were sizing up that pig, I could not help but think that if I could get one crack at it myself, that the rest of them would go to bed hungry.

We were all seated, but there was nothing doing. I looked to see what the trouble was; the old man was nodding at me. I glanced at Harry, he was grinning. I looked myself over to see what was the matter with me and then the old man spoke:

“Please ask a blessing, Mr. Henderson.” Then it occurred to me that Harry had introduced me as a theological student and the perspiration started out all over me. I knew every eye was on me and I looked at the pig for inspiration. The thought came to me that I must carry out the part if it took a wing. My eye rested on the pig as it stood on the platter on all fours, and its small size struck me more forcibly. I thought and before I could suppress the words, I had said my thoughts aloud:

“It’s too d——d small.”

The boys had been worked up to a high pitch by the size of the pig and the failure to get started right, and they gave a holler that shook the dishes on the table, the old man looked ugly, the old woman fainted and during the excitement Harry and I made a break for the door. We left that night; we had queered ourselves with the only dealer there. Harry was inclined to laugh the affair off, but it seemed to me as though I had made an awful break somehow. Say, but it was an awful little pig, though.

So long, Billy, Jack.

[Illustration: THE ASSISTANT SUPERINTENDENT.]

At The Mission School.

Jack Henderson.

At the Mission School.

Topeka, Kansas, 190—.

Dear Billy:—

Say, Billy, do you cotton to kids? I don’t suppose you know whether you do or not, but if anyone should ask you about me, tell them I don’t. And I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit lately.

Do you remember Ed Cook? He came out to Kansas three years ago and got married. He and his wife are here now and her sister lives with them.

I met Ed Sunday afternoon. He was wearing a Y. M. C. A. button, and looked the part so well that I didn’t intend to speak to him, but he signaled me and piloted me up to the shelf in the apartment building where he sleeps.

We hadn’t been talking very long when the door opened and the sister came in. She was dressed to go out, and looked as if she was expecting someone.

“Lou,” said Ed, “let me introduce Mr. Henderson. My sister, Miss Hargreaves, Mr. Henderson.”

The girl bowed but looked kind of puzzled.

“I thought you said his name was Clark,” she said.

“Oh, Clark’s sick—couldn’t come today,” answered Ed.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I simply have to have a young man today, and it’s too late now to find anyone. I don’t know what to do.”

She was looking at me kind of pleadingly and I said:

“Is it anything I can do?”

Ed gave her a foxy smile and said,

“Why sure, Lou. That’s just the combination. Jack’s just the boy you want.”

“He looks as if he would be,” she said, looking at me thoughtfully. “I’m sure it’s awfully kind of you, Mr. Henderson. I suppose you’ve had experience in this work. Most young men have.”

I wasn’t very sure what she meant, but I couldn’t think of any experience just then that I hadn’t had, so I trailed along after her as she started for the door.

“Sorry you have to go, Jack,” Ed said; “but we’ll see you again.”

It wasn’t such a bad trip. The young lady was quite vivacious. She told me that she was studying music and put in her Sunday afternoons playing in a dago mission Sunday School. Then I began to tumble. I sure hadn’t had any experience of that kind.

“There’s the dearest class of little boys,” she told me. “Italians and Greeks, mostly, and so interesting. If my time wasn’t so taken up with the music I’d like to take them myself, but I can’t do both, of course. It was so sweet of you to volunteer, Mr. Henderson.”

I looked at her, but her face was full of gratitude and friendliness, and I couldn’t believe she was really trying to work me. But I didn’t remember volunteering to teach a class of dirty little Ginnies.

“Ed comes down here frequently and helps,” she said. “He finds the work so interesting. And it is such good experience, don’t you think so, Mr. Henderson? Oh, here we are.”

I felt weak. I looked up and down the street, but couldn’t get out any good reason for deserting the lady just at that point. Before I had decided on anything I found myself in a big room full of chairs in rows with kids placed around in bunches waiting for the show to begin.

“We’re a little late,” Miss Hargreaves said, hastily; “but Miss Smith will take care of you. Miss Smith, this is Mr. Henderson. He wants to teach the class we were speaking of,” and she was chasing down the aisle to the organ before I could get my breath.

The other young lady was very cordial. She acted as though I was all she had been waiting for. She asked me if I had been in mission work long, and what I thought of the question of the evangelization of the slums of the cities, and if I had a quarterly. I answered “No” to the last question—she didn’t give me time to answer the others—and she chased off and brought me a paper book which, she said, had the lesson in it.

I looked around while she was off for the book. There was just one door to the room and a fat woman was standing there, arguing with a little boy who wanted to get out. There didn’t seem to be much doing in that quarter, so I braced up and prepared to take my medicine like a man.

“Here are your boys,” she said, piloting me to a bunch of greasy looking little devils. “Boys, this is Mr. Henderson. You must be real good to him,” and she gave us all a sweet smile and faded away.

A pale young man with a Sunny Jim face was standing by the bunch. He told me he was the assistant superintendent and had to keep order. He said he always gave a little extra attention to these boys.

“I guess you’d better take them into the class room early,” he said. “They seem to be a bit uneasy today.”

He opened a little door in the wall and the kids fell over themselves into the next room. Then the door was shut, but I couldn’t have heard what was doing in the next room, anyway, for the way those little dagos were howling would have made a room full of maniacs seem like a summer breeze. Just to remind them that I was there I picked up two of them and cracked their heads together. That seemed to interest them a little, and the other boys stopped to take rubbers at the fun. I couldn’t see as I was hurting them any, so I went on batting them. The rest of the crowd evidently got a hunch as to what might be coming to them, for they all filed over to a row of chairs and sat down. It was so still all of a sudden that I could hear their heads crack as I brought them together.

“Now, see here,” said I, letting go of the two interesting little dears I was operating on, “I’m willing to do the fair thing if you give me the chance. If you can sit still without talking or moving I’ll give you each a quarter when they let us out of here.”

“Dat’s Isidore Simon. He’ll get de quarter,” one of the kids said. But the rest of them were too anxious for the money to talk.

“Remember,” I said, fearing I hadn’t made it strong enough, “I’ll pound daylight out of the first one of you little devils that opens his mouth.”

It was enough. I sat there for thirty-five minutes by my watch with that row of brats sitting there as still as if they were dead. The bell rang and I let them file out into the other room, and they did it in great style. Then I had to chase out and get the change to pay them off. As soon as the meeting let out the two young ladies and the assistant superintendent piked up to me and began to all talk at once.

“Oh, Mr. Henderson,” the girls said together, “we must congratulate you on your success. You are perfectly wonderful with children! No one ever handled those boys so well before! Couldn’t you take the class permanently?”

Say, Billy, I thought I’d made a hit. I thought that everything was coming my way, from the way they crowded each other to flash a happy look at me. It must have made me kind of dizzy to get it all in a bunch like that, for before I could think what to say in such a nice crowd as that, Ed’s sister-in-law had got her jacket on and was walking off with Sunny Jim.

She looked back at me with a real sweet smile. “Good-bye, Mr. Henderson,” she said. “I’m awfully sorry, but Mr. Williams and I have to go to a committee meeting right away. I wish you would come again. I think it is lovely to meet a young man who is so fond of children.”

Wouldn’t kids be poison to you after that? Just think, the best looking of the two going off with a white livered guy like that! If I had been full she would have taken more notice of me. I was so sore that I didn’t know that the other girl was talking to me until I heard:

“So if you’ll kindly excuse me I’ll go and attend to it now. Mr. Williams has so much to do, and I like to help him all that I can. Don’t you think he is a splendid young man, Mr. Henderson? And such a worker!”

“I think you’re all a bunch of workers,” I said. But she just smiled and said, “Oh, thank you! Good-bye!”

No more Sunday School for me, Billy. It’s too costly for the returns.

Yours, Jack.

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained. ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.