Fancy a novel about Chicago or Buffalo1, let us say, or Nashville, Tennessee! There are just three big cities in the United States that are "story cities" - New York, of course, New Orleans, and, best of the lot, San Francisco.
FRANK NORRIS.
East is East, and West is San Francisco, according to Californians. Californians are a race of people; they are not merely inhabitants of a State. They are the Southerners of the West. Now, Chicagoans are no less loyal to their city; but when you ask them why, they stammer2 and speak of lake fish and the new Odd Fellows Building. But Californians go into detail.
Of course they have, in the climate, an argument that is good for half an hour while you are thinking of your coal bills and heavy underwear. But as soon as they come to mistake your silence for conviction, madness comes upon them, and they picture the city of the Golden Gate as the Bagdad of the New World. So far, as a matter of opinion, no refutation is necessary. But, dear cousins all (from Adam and Eve descended), it is a rash one who will lay his finger on the map and say: "In this town there can be no romance - what could happen here?" Yes, it is a bold and a rash deed to challenge in one sentence history, romance, and Rand and McNally.
NASHVILLE - A city, port of delivery, and the capital of the State of Tennessee, is on the Cumberland River and on the N. C. & St. L. and the L. & N. railroads. This city is regarded as the most important educational centre in the South.
I stepped off the train at 8 P.M. Having searched the thesaurus in vain for adjectives, I must, as a substitution, hie me to comparison in the form of a recipe.
Take a London fog 30 parts; malaria3 10 parts; gas leaks 20 parts; dewdrops gathered in a brick yard at sunrise, 25 parts; odor of honeysuckle 15 parts. Mix.
The mixture will give you an approximate conception of a Nashville drizzle4. It is not so fragrant5 as a moth-ball nor as thick as pea-soup; but 'tis enough - 'twill serve.
I went to a hotel in a tumbril. It required strong self-suppression for me to keep from climbing to the top of it and giving an imitation of Sidney Carton. The vehicle was drawn6 by beasts of a bygone era and driven by something dark and emancipated7.
I was sleepy and tired, so when I got to the hotel I hurriedly paid it the fifty cents it demanded (with approximate lagniappe, I assure you). I knew its habits; and I did not want to hear it prate8 about its old "marster" or anything that happened "befo' de wah."
The hotel was one of the kind described as 'renovated9." That means $20,000 worth of new marble pillars, tiling, electric lights and brass10 cuspidors in the lobby, and a new L. & N. time table and a lithograph11 of Lookout12 Mountain in each one of the great rooms above. The management was without reproach, the attention full of exquisite13 Southern courtesy, the service as slow as the progress of a snail14 and as good-humored as Rip Van Winkle. The food was worth traveling a thousand miles for. There is no other hotel in the world where you can get such chicken livers en brochette.
At dinner I asked a Negro waiter if there was anything doing in town. He pondered gravely for a minute, and then replied: "Well, boss, I don't really reckon there's anything at all doin' after sundown."
Sundown had been accomplished15; it had been drowned in the drizzle long before. So that spectacle was denied me. But I went forth16 upon the streets in the drizzle to see what might be there. It is built on undulating grounds; and the streets are lighted by electricity at a cost of $32,470 per annum. As I left the hotel there was a race riot. Down upon me charged a company of freedmen, or Arabs, or Zulus, armed with - no, I saw with relief that they were not rifles, but whips. And I saw dimly a caravan17 of black, clumsy vehicles; and at the reassuring18 shouts, "Kyar you anywhere in the town, boss, fuh fifty cents," I reasoned that I was merely a "fare" instead of a victim.
I walked through long streets, all leading uphill. I wondered how those streets ever came down again. Perhaps they didn't until they were "graded." On a few of the "main streets" I saw lights in stores here and there; saw street cars go by conveying worthy19 burghers hither and yon; saw people pass engaged in the art of conversation, and heard a burst of semi-lively laughter issuing from a soda-water and ice-cream parlor20. The streets other than "main" seemed to have enticed21 upon their borders houses consecrated22 to peace and domesticity. In many of them lights shone behind discreetly23 drawn window shades; in a few pianos tinkled24 orderly and irreproachable25 music. There was, indeed, little "doing." I wished I had come before sundown. So I returned to my hotel.
In November, 1864, the Confederate General Hood26 advanced against Nashville, where he shut up a National force under General Thomas. The latter then sallied forth and defeated the Confederates in a terrible conflict.
All my life I have heard of, admired, and witnessed the fine marksmanship of the South in its peaceful conflicts in the tobacco-chewing regions. But in my hotel a surprise awaited me. There were twelve bright, new, imposing27, capacious brass cuspidors in the great lobby, tall enough to be called urns28 and so wide-mouthed that the crack pitcher29 of a lady baseball team should have been able to throw a ball into one of them at five paces distant. But, although a terrible battle had raged and was still raging, the enemy had not suffered. Bright, new, imposing, capacious, untouched, they stood. But, shades of Jefferson Brick! the tile floor - the beautiful tile floor! I could not avoid thinking of the battle of Nashville, and trying to draw, as is my foolish habit, some deductions30 about hereditary31 marksmanship.
Here I first saw Major (by misplaced courtesy) Wentworth Caswell. I knew him for a type the moment my eyes suffered from the sight of him. A rat has no geographical33 habitat. My old friend, A. Tennyson, said, as he so well said almost everything:
Prophet, curse me the blabbing lip, And curse me the British vermin, the rat.
Let us regard the word "British" as interchangeable ad lib. A rat is a rat.
This man was hunting about the hotel lobby like a starved dog that had forgotten where he had buried a bone. He had a face of great acreage, red, pulpy34, and with a kind of sleepy massiveness like that of Buddha35. He possessed36 one single virtue37 - he was very smoothly38 shaven. The mark of the beast is not indelible upon a man until he goes about with a stubble. I think that if he had not used his razor that day I would have repulsed39 his advances, and the criminal calendar of the world would have been spared the addition of one murder.
I happened to be standing40 within five feet of a cuspidor when Major Caswell opened fire upon it. I had been observant enough to percieve that the attacking force was using Gatlings instead of squirrel rifles; so I side-stepped so promptly41 that the major seized the opportunity to apologize to a noncombatant. He had the blabbing lip. In four minutes he had become my friend and had dragged me to the bar.
I desire to interpolate here that I am a Southerner. But I am not one by profession or trade. I eschew43 the string tie, the slouch hat, the Prince Albert, the number of bales of cotton destroyed by Sherman, and plug chewing. When the orchestra plays Dixie I do not cheer. I slide a little lower on the leather-cornered seat and, well, order another Wurzburger and wish that Longstreet had - but what's the use?
Major Caswell banged the bar with his fist, and the first gun at Fort Sumter re-echoed. When he fired the last one at Appomattox I began to hope. But then he began on family trees, and demonstrated that Adam was only a third cousin of a collateral44 branch of the Caswell family. Genealogy45 disposed of, he took up, to my distaste, his private family matters. He spoke46 of his wife, traced her descent back to Eve, and profanely47 denied any possible rumor48 that she may have had relations in the land of Nod.
By this time I was beginning to suspect that he was trying to obscure by noise the fact that he had ordered the drinks, on the chance that I would be bewildered into paying for them. But when they were down he crashed a silver dollar loudly upon the bar. Then, of course, another serving was obligatory49. And when I had paid for that I took leave of him brusquely; for I wanted no more of him. But before I had obtained my release he had prated50 loudly of an income that his wife received, and showed a handful of silver money.
When I got my key at the desk the clerk said to me courteously51: "If that man Caswell has annoyed you, and if you would like to make a complaint, we will have him ejected. He is a nuisance, a loafer, and without any known means of support, although he seems to have some money most the time. But we don't seem to be able to hit upon any means of throwing him out legally."
"Why, no," said I, after some reflection; "I don't see my way clear to making a complaint. But I would like to place myself on record as asserting that I do not care for his company. Your town," I continued, "seems to be a quiet one. What manner of entertainment, adventure, or excitement have you to offer to the stranger within your gates?"
"Well, sir," said the clerk, "there will be a show here next Thursday. It is - I'll look it up and have the announcement sent up to your room with the ice water. Good night."
After I went up to my room I looked out the window. It was only about ten o'clock, but I looked upon a silent town. The drizzle continued, spangled with dim lights, as far apart as currants in a cake sold at the Ladies' Exchange.
"A quiet place," I said to myself, as my first shoe struck the ceiling of the occupant of the room beneath mine. "Nothing of the life here that gives color and variety to the cities in the East and West. Just a good, ordinary, humdrum52, business town."
Nashville occupies a foremost place among the manufacturing centres of the country. It is the fifth boot and shoe market in the United States, the largest candy and cracker53 manufacturing city in the South, and does an enormous wholesale54 drygoods, grocery, and drug business.
I must tell you how I came to be in Nashville, and I assure you the digression brings as much tedium55 to me as it does to you. I was traveling elsewhere on my own business, but I had a commission from a Northern literary magazine to stop over there and establish a personal connection between the publication and one of its contributors, Azalea Adair.
Adair (there was no clue to the personality except the handwriting) had sent in some essays (lost art!) and poems that had made the editors swear approvingly over their one o'clock luncheon56. So they had commissioned me to round up said Adair and corner by contract his or her output at two cents a word before some other publisher offered her ten or twenty.
At nine o'clock the next morning, after my chicken livers en brochette (try them if you can find that hotel), I strayed out into the drizzle, which was still on for an unlimited57 run. At the first corner, I came upon Uncle Caesar. He was a stalwart Negro, older than the pyramids, with gray wool and a face that reminded me of Brutus, and a second afterwards of the late King Cettiwayo. He wore the most remarkable58 coat that I ever had seen or expect to see. It reached to his ankles an had once been a Confederate gray in colors. But rain and sun and age had so variegated59 it that Joseph's coat, beside it, would have faded to a pale monochrome. I must linger with that coat, for it has to do with the story - the story that is so long in coming, because you can hardly expect anything to happen in Nashville.
Once it must have been the military coat of an officer. The cape60 of it had vanished, but all adown its front it had been frogged and tasseled61 magnificently. But now the frogs and tassles were gone. In their stead had been patiently stitched (I surmised62 by some surviving "black mammy") new frogs made of cunningly twisted common hempen63 twine64. This twine was frayed65 and disheveled. It must have been added to the coat as a substitute for vanished splendors66, with tasteless but painstaking67 devotion, for it followed faithfully the curves of the long-missing frogs. And, to complete the comedy and pathos68 of the garment, all its buttons were gone save one. The second button from the top alone remained. The coat was fastened by other twine strings70 tied through the buttonholes and other holes rudely pierced in the opposite side. There was never such a weird71 garment so fantastically bedecked and of so many mottled hues72. The lone69 button was the size of a half-dollar, made of yellow horn and sewed on with coarse twine.
This Negro stood by a carriage so old that Ham himself might have started a hack73 line with it after he left the ark with the two animals hitched74 to it. As I approached he threw open the door, drew out a feather duster, waved it without using it, and said in deep, rumbling75 tones:
"Step right in, suh; ain't a speck76 of dust in it - jus' got back from a funeral, suh."
I inferred that on such gala occasions carriages were given an extra cleaning. I looked up and down the street and perceived that there was little choice among the vehicles for hire that lined the curb77. I looked in my memorandum78 book for the address of Azalea Adair.
"I want to go to 861 Jessamine Street," I said, and was about to step into the hack. But for an instant the thick, long, gorilla-like arm of the old Negro barred me. On his massive and saturnine79 face a look of sudden suspicion and enmity flashed for a moment. Then, with quickly returning conviction, he asked blandishingly: "What are you gwine there for, boss?"
"What is it to you?" I asked, a little sharply.
"Nothin', suh, jus' nothin'. Only it's a lonesome kind of part of town and few folks ever has business out there. Step right in. The seats is clean - jes' got back from a funeral, suh."
A mile and a half it must have been to our journey's end. I could hear nothing but the fearful rattle80 of the ancient hack over the uneven81 brick paving; I could smell nothing but the drizzle, now further flavored with coal smoke and something like a mixture of tar32 and oleander blossoms. All I could see through the streaming windows were two rows of dim houses.
The city has an area of 10 square miles; 181 miles of streets, of which 137 miles are paved; a system of waterworks that cost $2,000,000, with 77 miles of mains.
Eight-sixty-one Jessamine Street was a decayed mansion82. Thirty yards back from the street it stood, outmerged in a splendid grove83 of trees and untrimmed shrubbery. A row of box bushes overflowed84 and almost hid the paling fence from sight; the gate was kept closed by a rope noose85 that encircled the gate post and the first paling of the gate. But when you got inside you saw that 861 was a shell, a shadow, a ghost of former grandeur86 and excellence87. But in the story, I have not yet got inside.
When the hack had ceased from rattling88 and the weary quadrupeds came to a rest I handed my jehu his fifty cents with an additional quarter, feeling a glow of conscious generosity89, as I did so. He refused it.
"It's two dollars, suh," he said.
"How's that?" I asked. "I plainly heard you call out at the hotel: 'Fifty cents to any part of the town.'"
"It's two dollars, suh," he repeated obstinately90. "It's a long ways from the hotel."
"It is within the city limits and well within them." I argued. "Don't think that you have picked up a greenhorn Yankee. Do you see those hills over there?" I went on, pointing toward the east (I could not see them, myself, for the drizzle); "well, I was born and raised on their other side. You old fool nigger, can't you tell people from other people when you see 'em?"
The grim face of King Cettiwayo softened91. "Is you from the South, suh? I reckon it was them shoes of yourn fooled me. They is somethin' sharp in the toes for a Southern gen'lman to wear."
"Then the charge is fifty cents, I suppose?" said I inexorably.
His former expression, a mingling92 of cupidity93 and hostility94, returned, remained ten seconds, and vanished.
"Boss," he said, "fifty cents is right; but I needs two dollars, suh; I'm obleeged to have two dollars. I ain't demandin' it now, suh; after I know whar you's from; I'm jus' sayin' that I has to have two dollars to-night, and business mighty95 po'."
Peace and confidence settled upon his heavy features. He had been luckier than he had hoped. Instead of having picked up a greenhorn, ignorant of rates, he had come upon an inheritance.
"You confounded old rascal," I said, reaching down to my pocket, "you ought to be turned over to the police."
For the first time I saw him smile. He knew; he knew. HE KNEW.
I gave him two one-dollar bills. As I handed them over I noticed that one of them had seen parlous96 times. Its upper right-hand corner was missing, and it had been torn through the middle, but joined again. A strip of blue tissue paper, pasted over the split, preserved its negotiability.
Enough of the African bandit for the present: I left him happy, lifted the rope and opened a creaky gate.
The house, as I said, was a shell. A paint brush had not touched it in twenty years. I could not see why a strong wind should not have bowled it over like a house of cards until I looked again at the trees that hugged it close - the trees that saw the battle of Nashville and still drew their protecting branches around it against storm and enemy and cold.
Azalea Adair, fifty years old, white-haired, a descendant of the cavaliers, as thin and frail97 as the house she lived in, robed in the cheapest and cleanest dress I ever saw, with an air as simple as a queen's, received me.
The reception room seemed a mile square, because there was nothing in it except some rows of books, on unpainted white-pine bookshelves, a cracked marble-top table, a rag rug, a hairless horsehair sofa and two or three chairs. Yes, there was a picture on the wall, a colored crayon drawing of a cluster of pansies. I looked around for the portrait of Andrew Jackson and the pinecone hanging basket but they were not there.
Azalea Adair and I had conversation, a little of which will be repeated to you. She was a product of the old South, gently nurtured98 in the sheltered life. Her learning was not broad, but was deep and of splendid originality99 in its somewhat narrow scope. She had been educated at home, and her knowledge of the world was derived100 from inference and by inspiration. Of such is the precious, small group of essayists made. Whle she talked to me I kept brushing my fingers, trying, unconsciously, to rid them guiltily of the absent dust from the half-calf backs of Lamb, Chaucer, Hazlitt, Marcus Aurelius, Montaigne and Hood. She was exquisite, she was a valuable discovery. Nearly everybody nowadays knows too much - oh, so much too much - of real life.
I could perceive clearly that Azalea Adair was very poor. A house and a dress she had, not much else, I fancied. So, divided between my duty to the magazine and my loyalty101 to the poets and essayists who fought Thomas in the valley of the Cumberland, I listened to her voice, which was like a harpsichord's, and found that I could not speak of contracts. In the presence of the nine Muses102 and the three Graces one hesitated to lower the topic to two cents. There would have to be another colloquy103 after I had regained104 my commercialism. But I spoke of my mission, and three o'clock of the next afternoon was set for the discussion of the business proposition.
"Your town," I said, as I began to make ready to depart (which is the time for smooth generalities), "seems to be a quiet, sedate105 place. A home town, I should say, where few things out of the ordinary ever happen." It carries on an extensive trade in stoves and hollow ware106 with the West and South, and its flouring mills have a daily capacity of more than 2,000 barrels.
Azalea Adair seemed to reflect.
"I have never thought of it that way," she said, with a kind of sincere intensity107 that seemed to belong to her. "Isn't it in the still, quiet places that things do happen? I fancy that when God began to create the earth on the first Monday morning one could have leaned out one's window and heard the drops of mud splashing from His trowel as He built up the everlasting108 hills. What did the noisiest project in the world - I mean the building of the Tower of Bable - result in finally? A page and a half of Esperanto in the North American Review."
"Of course," said I platitudinously, "human nature is the same everywhere; but there is more color - er - more drama and movement and - er - romance in some cities than in others."
"On the surface," said Azalea Adair. "I have traveled many times around the world in a golden airship wafted109 on two wings - print and dreams. I have seen (on one of my imaginary tours) the Sultan of Turkey bowstring with his own hands one of his wives who had uncovered her face in public. I have seen a man in Nashville tear up his theatre tickets because his wife was going out with her face covered - with rice powder. In San Francisco's Chinatown I saw the slave girl Sing Yee dipped slowly, inch by inch, in boiling almond oil to make her swear she would never see her American lover again. She gave in when the boiling oil had reached three inches above her knee. At a euchre party in East Nashville the other night I saw Kitty Morgan cut dead by seven of her schoolmates and lifelong friends because she had married a house painter. The boiling oil was sizzling as high as her heart; but I wish you could have seen the fine little smile that she carried from table to table. Oh, yes, it is a humdrum town. Just a few miles of red brick houses and mud and lumber110 yards."
Some one knocked hollowly at the back of the house. Azalea Adair breathed a soft apology and went to investigate the sound. She came back in three minutes with brightened eyes, a faint flush on her cheeks, and ten years lifted from her shoulders.
"You must have a cup of tea before you go," she said, "and a sugar cake."
She reached and shook a little iron bell. In shuffled111 a small Negro girl about twelve, barefoot, not very tidy, glowering112 at me with thumb in mouth and bulging113 eyes.
Azlea Adair opened a tiny, worn purse and drew out a dollar bill, a dollar bill with the upper right-hand corner missing, torn in two pieces, and pasted together again with a strip of blue tissue paper. It was one of the bills I had given the piratical Negro - there was no doubt about it.
"Go up to Mr. Baker114's store on the corner, Impy," she said, handing the girl the dollar bill, "and get a quarter of a pound of tea - the kind he always sends me - and ten cents worth of sugar cakes. Now, hurry. The supply of tea in the house happens to be exhausted," she explained to me.
Impy left by the back way. Before the scrape of her hard, bare feet had died away on the back porch, a wild shriek115 - I was sure it was hers - filled the hollow house. Then the deep, gruff tones of an angry man's voice mingled116 with the girl's further squeals117 and unintelligible118 words.
Azalea Adair rose without surprise or emotion and disappeared. For two minutes I heard the hoarse119 rumble120 of the man's voice; then someting like an oath and a slight scuffle, and she returned calmly to her chair.
"This is a roomy house," she said, "and I have a tenant121 for part of it. I am sorry to have to rescind122 my invitation to tea. It was impossible to get the kind I always use at the store. Perhaps tomorrow, Mr. Baker will be able to supply me."
I was sure that Impy had not had time to leave the house. I inquired concerning street-car lines and took my leave. After I was well on my way I remembered that I had not learned Azalea Adair's name. But to-morrow would do.
That same day I started in on the course of iniquity123 that this uneventful city forced upon me. I was in the town only two days, but in that time I managed to lie shamelessly by telegraph, and to be an accomplice124 - after the fact, if that is the correct legal term - to a murder.
As I rounded the corner nearest my hotel the Afrite coachman of the ploychromatic, nonpareil coat seized me, swung open the dungeony door of his peripatetic125 sarcophagus, flirted126 his feather duster and began his ritual: "Step right in, boss. Carriage is clean - jus' got back from a funeral. Fifty cents to any -"
And then he knew me and grinned broadly. "'Scuse me, boss; you is de gen'l'man what rid out with me dis mawnin'. Thank you kindly127, suh."
"I am going out to 861 again to-morrow afternoon at three," said I, "and if you will be here, I'll let you drive me. So you know Miss Adair?" I concluded, thinking of my dollar bill.
"I belonged to her father, Judge Adair, suh," he replied.
"I judge that she is pretty poor," I said. "She hasn't much money to speak of, has she?"
For an instant I looked again at the fierce countenance128 of King Cettiwayo, and then he changed back to an extortionate old Negro hack driver.
"She ain't gwine to starve, suh," he said slowly. "She has reso'ces, suh; she has reso'ces."
"I shall pay you fifty cents for the trip," said I.
"Dat is puffeckly correct, suh," he answered humbly129. "I jus' had to have dat two dollars dis mawnin', boss."
I went to the hotel and lied by electricity. I wired the magazine: "A. Adair holds out for eight cents a word."
The answer that came back was: "Give it to her quick you duffer."
Just before dinner "Major" Wentworth Caswell bore down upon me with the greetings of a long-lost friend. I have seen few men whom I have so instantaneously hated, and of whom it was so difficult to be rid. I was standing at the bar when he invaded me; therefore I could not wave the white ribbon in his face. I would have paid gladly for the drinks, hoping, thereby130, to escape another; but he was one of those despicable, roaring, advertising131 bibbers who must have brass bands and fireworks attend upon every cent that they waste in their follies132.
With an air of producing millions he drew two one-dollar bills from a pocket and dashed one of them upon the bar. I looked once more at the dollar bill with the upper right-hand corner missing, torn through the middle, and patched with a strip of blue tissue paper. It was my dollar bill again. It could have been no other.
I went up to my room. The drizzle and the monotony of a dreary133, eventless Southern town had made me tired and listless. I remember that just before I went to bed I mentally disposed of the mysterious dollar bill (which might have formed the clew to a tremendously fine detective story of San Francisco) by saying to myself sleepily: "Seems as if a lot of people here own stock in the Hack-Driver's Trust. Pays dividends134 promptly, too. Wonder if -" Then I fell asleep.
King Cettiwayo was at his post the next day, and rattled135 my bones over the stones out to 861. He was to wait and rattle me back again when I was ready.
Azalea Adair looked paler and cleaner and frailer136 than she had looked on the day before. After she had signed the contract at eight cents per word she grew still paler and began to slip out of her chair. Whitout much trouble I managed to get her up on the antediluvian137 horsehair sofa and then I ran out to the sidewalk and yelled to the coffee-colored Pirate to bring a doctor. With a wisdom that I had not expected in him, he abandoned his team and struck off up the street afoot, realizing the value of speed. In ten minutes he returned with a grave, gray-haired and capable man of medicine. In a few words (worth much less than eight cents each) I explained to him my presence in the hollow house of mystery. He bowed with stately understanding, and turned to the old Negro.
"Uncle Caesar," he said calmly, "Run up to my house and ask Miss Lucy to give you a cream pitcher full of fresh milk and half a tumbler of port wine. And hurry back. Don't drive - run. I want you to get back sometime this week."
It occurred to me that Dr. Merriman also felt a distrust as to the speeding powers of the land-pirate's steeds. After Uncle Caesar was gone, lumberingly, but swiftly, up the street, the doctor looked me over with great politeness and as much careful calculation until he had decided138 that I might do.
"It is only a case of insufficient139 nutrition," he said. "In other words, the result of poverty, pride, and starvation. Mrs. Caswell has many devoted140 friends who would be glad to aid her, but she will accept nothing except from that old Negro, Uncle Caesar, who was once owned by her family."
"Mrs. Caswell!" said I, in surprise. And then I looked at the contract and saw that she had signed it "Azalea Adair Caswell."
"I thought she was Miss Adair," I said.
"Married to a drunken, worthless loafer, sir," said the doctor. "It is said that he robs her even of the small sums that her old servant contributes toward her support."
When the milk and wine had been brought the doctor soon revived Azalea Adair. She sat up and talked of the beauty of the autumn leaves that were then in season, and their height of color. She referred lightly to her fainting seizure141 as the outcome of an old palpitation of the heart. Impy fanned her as she lay on the sofa. The doctor was due elsewhere, and I followed him to the door. I told him that it was within my power and intentions to make a reasonable advance of money to Azalea Adair on future contributions to the magazine, and he seemed pleased.
"By the way," he said, "perhaps you would like to know that you have had royalty142 for a coachman. Old Caesar's grandfather was a king in Congo. Caesar himself has royal ways, as you may have observed."
As the doctor was moving off I heard Uncle Caesar's voice inside: "Did he get bofe of dem two dollars from you, Mis' Zalea?"
"Yes, Caesar," I heard Azalea Adair answer weakly. And then I went in and concluded business negotiations143 with our contributor. I assumed the responsibility of advancing fifty dollars, putting it as a necessary formality in binding144 our bargain. And then Uncle Caesar drove me back to the hotel.
Here ends all of the story as far as I can testify as a witness. The rest must be only bare statements of facts.
At about six o'clock I went out for a stroll. Uncle Caesar was at his corner. He threw open the door of his carriage, flourished his duster and began his depressing formula: "Step right in, suh. Fifty cents to anywhere in the city - hack's puffickly clean, suh - - jus' got back from a funeral -"
And then he recognized me. I think his eyesight was getting bad. His coat had taken on a few more faded shades of color, the twine strings were more frayed and ragged42, the last remaining button - the button of yellow horn - was gone. A motley descendant of kings was Uncle Caesar!
About two hours later I saw an excited crowd besieging145 the front of a drug store. In a desert where nothing happens this was manna; so I edged my way inside. On an extemporized146 couch of empty boxes and chairs was stretched the mortal corporeality147 of Major Wentworth Caswell. A doctor was testing him for the immortal148 ingredient. His decision was that it was conspicuous149 by its absence.
The erstwhile Major had been found dead on a dark street and brought by curious and ennuied citizens to the drug store. The late human being had been engaged in terrific battle - the details showed that. Loafer and reprobate150 though he had been, he had been also a warrior151. But he had lost. His hands were yet clinched152 so tightly that his fingers would not be opened. The gentle citizens who had know him stood about and searched their vocabularies to find some good words, if it were possible, to speak of him. One kind-looking man said, after much thought: "When 'Cas' was about fo'teen he was one of the best spellers in school."
While I stood there the fingers of the right hand of "the man that was" which hung down the side of a white pine box, relaxed, and dropped something at my feet. I covered it with one foot quietly, and a little later on I picked it up and pocketed it. I reasoned that in his last struggle his hand must have seized that object unwittingly and held it in a death grip.
At the hotel that night the main topic of conversation, with the possible exceptions of politics and prohibition153, was the demise154 of Major Caswell. I heard one man say to a group of listeners:
"In my opinion, gentlemen, Caswell was murdered by somme of these no-account niggers for his money. He had fifty dollars this afternoon which he showed to several gentlemen in the hotel. When he was found the money was not on his person."
I left the city the next morning at nine, and as the train was crossing the bridge over the Cumberland River I took out of my pocket a yellow horn overcoat button the size of a fifty-cent piece, with frayed ends of coarse twine hanging from it, and cast it out of the window into the slow, muddy waters below.
I wonder what's doing in Buffalo!
收听单词发音 |
1
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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stammer
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| n.结巴，口吃；v.结结巴巴地说 | |
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3
malaria
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| n.疟疾 | |
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4
drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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emancipated
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| adj.被解放的，不受约束的v.解放某人（尤指摆脱政治、法律或社会的束缚）( emancipate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prate
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| v.瞎扯，胡说 | |
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renovated
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| 翻新，修复，整修( renovate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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lithograph
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| n.平板印刷，平板画；v.用平版印刷 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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snail
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| n.蜗牛 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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caravan
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| n.大蓬车；活动房屋 | |
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18
reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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enticed
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| 诱惑，怂恿( entice的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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consecrated
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| adj.神圣的，被视为神圣的v.把…奉为神圣，给…祝圣( consecrate的过去式和过去分词 )；奉献 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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24
tinkled
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| （使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出 | |
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25
irreproachable
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| adj.不可指责的，无过失的 | |
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26
hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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27
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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urns
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| n.壶( urn的名词复数 )；瓮；缸；骨灰瓮 | |
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29
pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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deductions
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| 扣除( deduction的名词复数 )； 结论； 扣除的量； 推演 | |
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hereditary
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| adj.遗传的，遗传性的，可继承的，世袭的 | |
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tar
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| n.柏油，焦油；vt.涂或浇柏油/焦油于 | |
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33
geographical
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| adj.地理的；地区(性)的 | |
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pulpy
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| 果肉状的，多汁的，柔软的； 烂糊； 稀烂 | |
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35
Buddha
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| n.佛；佛像；佛陀 | |
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36
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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37
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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38
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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39
repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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41
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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42
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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43
eschew
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| v.避开，戒绝 | |
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44
collateral
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| adj.平行的；旁系的；n.担保品 | |
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45
genealogy
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| n.家系，宗谱 | |
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46
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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profanely
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| adv.渎神地，凡俗地 | |
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48
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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49
obligatory
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| adj.强制性的，义务的，必须的 | |
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50
prated
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| v.（古时用语）唠叨，啰唆( prate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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52
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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53
cracker
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| n.（无甜味的）薄脆饼干 | |
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54
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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55
tedium
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| n.单调；烦闷 | |
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56
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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57
unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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58
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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59
variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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60
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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61
tasseled
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| v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须( tassel的过去式和过去分词 )；使抽穗， （为了使作物茁壮生长）摘去穗状雄花；用流苏装饰 | |
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62
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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63
hempen
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| adj. 大麻制的, 大麻的 | |
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64
twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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65
frayed
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| adj.磨损的v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
splendors
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| n.华丽( splendor的名词复数 )；壮丽；光辉；显赫 | |
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67
painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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68
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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69
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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70
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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71
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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72
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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73
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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74
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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75
rumbling
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| n. 隆隆声, 辘辘声 adj. 隆隆响的 动词rumble的现在分词 | |
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76
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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77
curb
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| n.场外证券市场，场外交易；vt.制止，抑制 | |
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78
memorandum
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| n.备忘录，便笺 | |
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79
saturnine
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| adj.忧郁的，沉默寡言的，阴沉的，感染铅毒的 | |
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80
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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81
uneven
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| adj.不平坦的，不规则的，不均匀的 | |
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82
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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83
grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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84
overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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85
noose
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| n.绳套，绞索（刑）；v.用套索捉；使落入圈套；处以绞刑 | |
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86
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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88
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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89
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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90
obstinately
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| ad.固执地，顽固地 | |
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91
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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92
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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93
cupidity
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| n.贪心，贪财 | |
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94
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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96
parlous
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| adj.危险的，不确定的，难对付的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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98
nurtured
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| 养育( nurture的过去式和过去分词 )； 培育； 滋长； 助长 | |
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99
originality
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| n.创造力，独创性；新颖 | |
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100
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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101
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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102
muses
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的第三人称单数 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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103
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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104
regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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105
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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106
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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107
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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108
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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109
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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110
lumber
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| n.木材，木料；v.以破旧东西堆满；伐木；笨重移动 | |
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111
shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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112
glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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113
bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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114
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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115
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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116
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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117
squeals
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| n.长而尖锐的叫声( squeal的名词复数 )v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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118
unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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119
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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120
rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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121
tenant
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| n.承租人；房客；佃户；v.租借，租用 | |
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122
rescind
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| v.废除，取消 | |
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123
iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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124
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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peripatetic
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| adj.漫游的，逍遥派的，巡回的 | |
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flirted
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| v.调情，打情骂俏( flirt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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132
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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133
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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dividends
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| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
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rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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frailer
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| 脆弱的( frail的比较级 )； 易损的； 易碎的 | |
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antediluvian
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| adj.史前的，陈旧的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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insufficient
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| adj.(for，of)不足的，不够的 | |
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140
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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142
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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143
negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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binding
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| 有约束力的，有效的，应遵守的 | |
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besieging
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的现在分词 ) | |
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extemporized
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| v.即兴创作，即席演奏( extemporize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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corporeality
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| n.肉体的存在，形体的存在 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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150
reprobate
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| n.无赖汉；堕落的人 | |
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151
warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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152
clinched
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| v.（尤指两人）互相紧紧抱[扭]住( clinch的过去式和过去分词 )；解决（争端、交易），达成（协议） | |
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153
prohibition
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| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
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154
demise
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| n.死亡；v.让渡，遗赠，转让 | |
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