Through the school: The experiences of a mill boy in securing an education
John Stuart Mill · en
Two evenings later I sat on the hurricane deck of a steamer that was
to carry me to the Seminary city. I watched the golden dome of the
State House dwindle to the size of a noonday sun. I watched the waves
from our paddles wash the edges of innumerable islands. We passed the
lighthouses: huge warning fingers flashing their diamond lights. Our
bow foam swirled over the low-lying decks of loaded coasters. Then
we entered the silences of the ocean: even the sun left us and we
swirled into night. The dismal echoes of bending bell-buoys reached our
ears out of the darkness. The chilly, night wind threatened us with
influenza, so we hurried into the cabins where, under bright lights,
people were chatting, and where, in a far corner, a musician was
tickling the popular tune from the piano:
“All the Stars in the Sky, Dear, Speak through the Night of You-u-u!”
When the glistening negro, in spotless white, rushed through the cabin,
waving a pink-bordered towel and muttering to the ceiling or to the
thick carpet, as if it were no concern of his, that this was “the last
call for dinner,” I felt that I would adventure into the considerable
menu a dollar would bring me, if for nothing else but to atone for
those hungry days of three-cent meals in Indianapolis and Buffalo!
The next morning the steamer was poking its prow insistently through
the sea and through a drizzling rainstorm. We were near land again and
passed bleak islands hardly bigger than a man’s hand on which were
exiled lonesome, bleating sheep. Then we left the bays back of us and
entered the mouth of a river roadway whose banks were lined with golden
foliage. We passed a grim, grey fort and then stopped at a quiet town
whose roofs were buried in tall trees, which in turn were topped by the
spires of two old-fashioned churches which seemed to be telling the
townspeople in which direction God was to be found. The river roadway
deepened and narrowed and twisted as we ascended it. Then we left
the autumn beauties of tree and shrub and passed between ice-houses,
factories, and tenements until a bridge marked the limits of navigation
and we were put ashore in the Seminary city.