The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 06, April, 1858: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 06, April, 1858: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
He had demolished two pieces before the other boy awoke at the sound of
eating, which, however, at last reached his ears and aroused him, though
the shout and kick of the boat-hand had not disturbed him. He drew close
to his companion, and watched him with watering mouth, but did not dare
to ask him for a share of what he seemed little disposed to part with.
The big boy finished the third piece, and hesitated about the fourth;
but no, he was a human being,--no brute. He thrust the remainder into
his watcher's hands, and turned his back upon him, so as not to be
tantalized. Beasts indeed! Here were two instances of self-denial,
nowhere to be matched in the whole animal creation, except in that race
which is but little lower than the angels!
Among the young gentlemen smoking around us, there was one who drew my
attention, and that of every other person present, by his jolly laugh.
He was a short man, with broad shoulders and full chest, but otherwise
slight. He was very good-looking, and had the air of a perfect man of
the world,--but not in any disagreeable sense of the word, for a more
genial fellow I never saw. His _ha! ha!_ was irresistible. Wherever he
took his merry face, good-humor followed. He had a smart clap on the
shoulder for one, a hearty hand-shake for another, a jocular nod for
a third. I envied those whose company he sought,--even those whom he
merely accosted.
Presently, to my agreeable surprise, he drew near me, threw away his
cigar, on Kate's account, and said,--
"Lend me a corner of this machine, Sir? No seats to be had."
"Certainly," I responded eagerly, and then, with a bow to Kate, he sat
down upon the foot of my couch. He turned his handsome, roguish face to
me, with a look at once quizzical and tenderly commiserating, while he
rattled off all sorts of lively nonsense about the latest news. The
captain, who pitied my situation, I suppose, came up just then, to ask
if anything could be done to make me more comfortable; and he happened
to call both the stranger and myself by our names. I thus learned that
his was Ryerson.
When he heard mine, he changed color visibly, and looked eagerly at
Kate. I introduced him, and then, with a timidity quite unlike his
former dashing air, he said he had the pleasure of being acquainted with
an admiring friend of hers,--Miss Alice Wellspring. Had she heard from
her lately?
"Yes; she was very well, staying with her aunt."
He was aware of that. He had asked the question, because he thought he
could, perhaps, give later information of her than Kate possessed, and
set her mind at rest about the welfare of her young friend, as she must
be anxious. He was glad to say that Miss Wellspring was quite well--two
hours ago.
Kate made a grimace at me, and answered, that she was "glad to hear it."
Mr. Ryerson looked unutterably grateful, and said he was "sure she must
be."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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