Here was a little Italian bride, just landed, by the looks of her. She
kept her face close to her lover's, smiling dazedly into his eyes. And
she saw no harbor. Here near by was a fat old gentleman with a highly
painted young lady who laughed and swore softly at him as I passed. I
sat down beside them a moment and listened. The old gentleman seemed
quite mad with desire. He was pleading eagerly, whining. And he saw no
harbor. Close by sat two tall serious men. One was deep in a socialist
book, the other in news of the Giants. Both seemed equally absorbed. And
they saw no harbor. I moved on to another spot, and sitting down by a
thin seedy-looking Irish girl I heard her talk to her husband about
having their baby's life insured according to a wonderful plan an agent
had described to her. As she spoke she was frowning anxiously--and she
saw no harbor. Not far away a plump flashy young creature was smiling
down on the bootblack who was busily shining her small patent leather
shoes. Her bright blue petticoat lifted high displayed the most enticing
charms, and as now she turned to look off toward the lights of the city
ahead, she smiled gaily to herself. And she saw no harbor. And alone up
at the windy bow I found a squat husky laborer with his dirty coat and
shirt thrown open wide, the wind on his bare hairy chest, hungrily
watching the dock ahead as though for his supper--seeing no harbor, no
world's first port, no plans for vast fleets or a great canal, none of
the big things shaping his life.
But I saw. Orders had gone out from the tower east and west and south
and north to show me every courtesy. And with a miraculous youthful ease
I understood all that I saw and heard. The details all fitted right into
the whole, or if they didn't I made them fit. Here was a splendid end to
chaos and blind wrestling with life. And feeling stronger and more sure
than ever in my life before, I set out to build my series of glory
stories about it all, laying on the color thick to reach a million pigmy
readers, grip them, pull them out of their holes, make them sit up and
rub their eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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