The Continental Monthly, Vol. 4, No. 2, August, 1863: Devoted to Literature and National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 4, No. 2, August, 1863: Devoted to Literature and National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
But, on the other hand, how could I relinquish my object when thus far
on the way to it?
Blessings on Aunt Carter! She came to the rescue.
'Now,' said she, 'I have found that a good Providence always took care
of me, and _I_ believe He will take care of you. You've begun your
journey and got thus far safely, and _I_ believe you'll get through to
Bangor in time. At any rate, if you don't, you will have the
satisfaction of comforting your mother. I've been about the world
considerable,' she continued, 'and I've always found a _man_ to take
care of me. Now you shall have _my man_ to take care of you.'
Reassured by her hopeful words, I exclaimed:
'Enough, I will go! If there be any power in will, or any speed in
horses, I will get there!'
The minister sighed, but I commenced putting on my cloak. Just then, the
young man who had driven me up from the island the day before, came to
take my parting commands.
'Tell Mr. K.,' said I, 'that I start under favorable auspices. Is any
one going through?'
'Two passengers, but no ladies,' he replied.
'Who are they?' I inquired.
'They are both strangers, from the 'other side''--(the Maine cognomen
for the neighboring British provinces).
'What do they look like?'
'Well, they _look_ like gentlemen, and we _hope_ they are so,' he
replied, with dubious emphasis.
And these were my favorable auspices! A doubtful snowstorm and two
doubtful gentlemen! Nevertheless I spoke the truth.
At length I was all ready, and the landlady, who was quite interested in
me by that time, took me once more into her parlor with my friends,
while waiting for the stage. Again the thought of my travelling
companions occurred to me. I inquired if the landlady knew aught of
them.
'Nothing but their names,' said she. 'Neither of them was ever here
before. They look a little rough, but you cannot always tell about these
province people, they dress so differently from our folks. I dare say
they are real gentlemen.'
It was decided, with the concurrence of my friends, to request an
introduction to one of them through the landlord, as I was travelling
alone, and might need some aid. If they were as it was 'hoped,' this
would be an advantage; and if they were not, the formality might be some
protection.
I confess I was not strongly prepossessed in their favor when I
confronted them at the door of the hotel; the one a short, fat figure in
a coarse blue coat, with a hood of the same, lined with scarlet; a flat
cloth cap, and long heavy boots, reaching above the knee. An ugly
red-and-green woollen scarf tied around the waist enhanced the oddity of
his appearance. The other was taller and more slenderly built. His
complexion was decidedly 'sandy,' with short, curling hair and a
prodigious mustache. His countenance, like his dress, was grave, the
latter being an iron-gray travelling suit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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