A Knight of the Nineteenth CenturyRoe, Edward Payson
General
A Knight of the Nineteenth Century
Roe, Edward Payson
Fiction
Finally, to the immense relief of the honest and conservative dog, that
had growled himself hoarse, Haldane gave the room its finishing touches,
and betook himself to the woodpile again. The cat watched his departure
with philosophic composure. Like many fair ladies, she had thought
chiefly of herself during the interview with the stranger, from whom she
had managed to secure a little agreeable attention without giving
anything in return; and, now that it was over, she complacently purred
herself to sleep, with nothing to regret.
"Hullo! you're here yet, eh!" said Mr. Growther, entering the gate.
"Can you name any good reason why I should not be here?" asked Haldane,
somewhat nettled.
"No, but I could plenty of bad reasons."
"Keep them to yourself then," said the young man, sullenly resuming his
work.
"You talk as if you was an honest man," growled the old gentleman,
hobbling into the house.
Sitting down in his stout oak chair to rest himself, he stared in
silence for a time at the changes that Haldane had wrought. At last he
commenced:
"Now, Jeremiah Growther, I hope you can see that you are a perfect pig!
I hope you can see that dirt and confusion are your nateral elements;
and you had to live like a pig till a boy just out of jail came to show
you what it was to live like a decent human. But you've been showed
before, and you'll get things mixed up to-morrow. A-a-h!
"Where's that young fellow goin' to sleep to-night? That's none o' your
business. Yes, 'tis my business, too. I'm always mighty careful to know
where I'm goin' to sleep, and if I don't sleep well my cat and dog hear
from me the next day. You could be mighty comfortable tonight in your
good bed with this young chap sittin' on a curb-stun in the rain; but I
be hanged if you shall be. It's beginnin' to rain now--it's goin' to be
a mean night--mean as yourself--a cold, oncomfortable drizzle; just such
a night as makes these poor homeless devils feel that since they are
half under water they might as well go down to the river and get under
altogether. P'raps they do it sometimes in the hope of finding a warm,
dry place somewhere. Dreadful suddint change for 'em, though! And it's
we respectable, comfortable people that's to blame for these suddint
changes half the time.
"You know that heady young chap out there will go to the bad if somebody
don't pull him up. You know that it would be mean as dirt to let him go
wanderin' off to-night with only fifty cents in his pocket, tryin' to
find some place to put his head in out of the storm; and yet you want to
git out of doin' anything more for him. You're thinkin' how much more
comfortable it will be to sit dozin' in your chair, and not have any
stranger botherin' round. But I'll head you off agin in spite of your
cussed, mean, stingy, selfish, old, shrivelled-up soul, that would like
to take its ease even though the hull world was a-groanin' outside the
door. A-a-h!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account