An Outcast; Or, Virtue and FaithAdams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
General
An Outcast; Or, Virtue and Faith
Adams, F. Colburn (Francis Colburn)
Conduct of life -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Vice -- Fiction
"When we got home, two ladies were waiting at the den. It was not the
first time we had seen them at the den. Anna recognized them as the
ladies she had seen at Madame Harding's. One was the woman who so kindly
gave me the shilling in the market, when I was cold and hungry. A
lengthy whispering took place between Hag Zogbaum and the ladies, and we
were ordered into the back cellar. I knew the whispering was about Anna;
and watching through the boards I heard the Hag say Anna was fourteen
and nothing less, and saw one of the ladies draw from her purse numerous
pieces of gold, which were slipped into her hand. In a few minutes more
I saw poor little Anna follow her up the steps that led into 'Scorpion
Cove.' When we were released Hag was serving ragged and dejected-looking
men with gin and beer. Anna, she said when I inquired, had gone to a
good home in the country. I loved her ardently, and being lonesome was
not content with the statement of the old woman. I could not read, but
had begun to think for myself, and something told me all was not right.
For weeks and months I watched at the house in Leonard street, into
which I had followed the woman who gave me the shilling. But I neither
saw her nor the woman. Elegant carriages, and elegantly-dressed men
drove to and from the door, and passed in and out of the house, and the
house seemed to have a deal of fashionable customers, and that was all I
knew of it then.
"As I watched one night, a gentleman came out of the house, took me by
the arm and shook me, said I was a loitering vagrant, that he had seen
me before, and having a suspicious look he would order the watch to lock
me up. He inquired where my home was; and when I told him it was in
'Scorpion Cove,' he replied he didn't know where that was. I told him it
wasn't much of a home, and he said I ought to have a better one. It was
all very well to say so; but with me the case was different. That night
I met Tom Farley, who was glad to see me, and told how he got out of the
lock-up, and what he thought of the lock-up, and the jolly old Judge who
sent him to the lock-up, and who he saw in the lock-up, and what
mischief was concocted in the lock-up, and what he got to eat in the
lock-up, and how the lock-up wasn't so bad a place after all.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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