Crusoe in New York, and other talesHale, Edward Everett
General
Crusoe in New York, and other tales
Hale, Edward Everett
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Short stories, American; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
To my great joy it was, and to my greater joy it remained there
unmolested all the rest of the week in which we worked there. For my
master, who never came near us himself, increased our force for us on
the third day, so that at the end of the week, or Saturday night, the
job was nearly done, and well done, too.
On the third day I had taken the precaution to throw out in the inside
of our inclosure a sort of open fence, on which I could put the wet
boards to dry, which at first I had placed on our side fence. I told
McLoughlin, what was true enough, that the south sun was better for
them than the sun from the west. So I ran out what I may call a screen
thirty-five feet from the church, and parallel with it, on which I set
up these boards to dry, and to my great joy I saw that they would
wholly protect the roof of my little house from any observation from
the houses the other side of the way while the workmen were at work, or
even after they were inhabited.
There was not one of the workmen with me who had forethought enough or
care for our master's interest to ask whose boards those were which we
left there, or why we left them there. Indeed, they knew the next
Monday that I went up with Fergus, the Swede, to bring back such lumber
as we did not use, and none of them knew or cared how much we left
there.
For me, I was only eager to get to work, and that day seemed very long
to me. But that Monday afternoon I asked my master if I might have the
team again for my own use for an hour or so, to move some stuff of mine
and my mother's, and he gave it to me readily.
I had then only to drive up-town to a friendly lumberman's, where my
own stuff was already lying waiting for me to load up, with the
assistance of the workmen there, and to drive as quickly as I could
into the church alley. Here I looked around, and seeing a German who
looked as if he were only a day from Bremen, I made signs to him that
if he would help me I would give him a piece of scrip which I showed
him. The man had been long enough in the country to know that the scrip
was good for lager. He took hold manfully with me, and carried my
timbers and boards into the inclosure through a gap I made in the fence
for the purpose. I gave him his money, and he went away. As he went to
Minnesota the next day, he never mentioned to anybody the business he
had been engaged in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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