The Best Short Stories of 1915 Part 9
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"Ask the big swine why he did it?" roared the officer.
"Because he is a coward!" cried Ivan. "They wouldn't do that in America!"
"What does the big brute know about America?" cried the officer.
"Tell him I have dreamed of it," shouted Ivan. "Tell him it is in my Dream. Tell him I will kill him if he turns the water upon this old woman."
The apple seller was on deck then, and with the wisdom of the Celt she understood. She put her lean hand upon the great head of the Russian and blessed him in Gaelic. Ivan bowed before her, then as she offered him a rosy apple he led her toward Anna, a great Viking leading a withered old woman who walked with the grace of a d.u.c.h.ess.
"Please don't touch him," she cried, turning to the officer. "We have been waiting for your s.h.i.+p for six hours, and we have only five dozen apples to sell. It's a great man he is. Sure he's as big as Finn MacCool."
Some one pulled the steward behind a ventilator and revived him by squirting him with water from the hose which he had tried to turn upon the old woman. The third officer slipped quietly away.
The Atlantic was kind to the s.h.i.+p that carried Ivan and Anna. Through sunny days they sat up on deck and watched the horizon. They wanted to be among those who would get the first glimpse of the wonderland.
They saw it on a morning with suns.h.i.+ne and soft winds. Standing together in the bow, they looked at the smear upon the horizon, and their eyes filled with tears. They forgot the long road to Bobruisk, the rocking journey to Libau, the mad buckjumping boat in whose timbers the sea devils of the Baltic had bored holes. Everything unpleasant was forgotten, because the Dream filled them with a great happiness.
The inspectors at Ellis Island were interested in Ivan. They walked around him and prodded his muscles, and he smiled down upon them good-naturedly.
"A fine animal," said one. "Gee, he's a new white hope! Ask him can he fight?"
An interpreter put the question, and Ivan nodded. "I have fought," he said.
"Gee!" cried the inspector. "Ask him was it for purses or what?"
"For freedom," answered Ivan. "For freedom to stretch my legs and straighten my neck!"
Ivan and Anna left the Government ferryboat at the Battery. They started to walk uptown, making for the East Side, Ivan carrying the big trunk that no other man could lift.
It was a wonderful morning. The city was bathed in warm suns.h.i.+ne, and the well-dressed men and women who crowded the sidewalks made the two immigrants think that it was a festival day. Ivan and Anna stared at each other in amazement. They had never seen such dresses as those worn by the smiling women who pa.s.sed them by; they had never seen such well-groomed men.
"It is a feast day for certain," said Anna.
"They are dressed like princes and princesses," murmured Ivan. "There are no poor here, Anna. None."
Like two simple children, they walked along the streets of the City of Wonder. What a contrast it was to the gray, stupid towns where the Terror waited to spring upon the cowed people. In Bobruisk, Minsk, Vilna, and Libau the people were sullen and afraid. They walked in dread, but in the City of Wonder beside the glorious Hudson every person seemed happy and contented.
They lost their way, but they walked on, looking at the wonderful shop windows, the roaring elevated trains, and the huge skysc.r.a.pers. Hours afterward they found themselves in Fifth Avenue near Thirty-third Street, and there the miracle happened to the two Russian immigrants.
It was a big miracle inasmuch as it proved the Dream a truth, a great truth.
Ivan and Anna attempted to cross the avenue, but they became confused in the snarl of traffic. They dodged backward and forward as the stream of automobiles swept by them. Anna screamed, and, in response to her scream, a traffic policeman, resplendent in a new uniform, rushed to her side. He took the arm of Anna and flung up a commanding hand. The charging autos halted. For five blocks north and south they jammed on the brakes when the unexpected interruption occurred, and Big Ivan gasped.
"Don't be flurried, little woman," said the cop. "Sure I can tame 'em by liftin' me hand."
Anna didn't understand what he said, but she knew it was something nice by the manner in which his Irish eyes smiled down upon her. And in front of the waiting automobiles he led her with the same care that he would give to a d.u.c.h.ess, while Ivan, carrying the big trunk, followed them, wondering much. Ivan's mind went back to Bobruisk on the night the Terror was abroad.
The policeman led Anna to the sidewalk, patted Ivan good-naturedly upon the shoulder, and then with a sharp whistle unloosed the waiting stream of cars that had been held up so that two Russian immigrants could cross the avenue.
Big Ivan of the Bridge took the trunk from his head and put it on the ground. He reached out his arms and folded Anna in a great embrace. His eyes were wet.
"The Dream is true!" he cried. "Did you see, Anna? We are as good as they! This is the land where a muzhik is as good as a prince of the blood!"
The President was nearing the close of his address. Anna shook Ivan, and Ivan came out of the trance which the President's words had brought upon him. He sat up and listened intently:
_We grow great by dreams. All big men are dreamers. They see things in the soft haze of a spring day or in the red fire of a long winter's evening. Some of us let those great dreams die, but others nourish and protect them, nurse them through bad days till they bring them to the suns.h.i.+ne and light which comes always to those who sincerely hope that their dreams will come true._
The President finished. For a moment he stood looking down at the faces turned up to him, and Big Ivan of the Bridge thought that the President smiled at him. Ivan seized Anna's hand and held it tight.
"He knew of my Dream!" he cried. "He knew of it. Did you hear what he said about the dreams of a spring day?"
"Of course he knew," said Anna. "He is the wisest in America, where there are many wise men. Ivan, you are a citizen now."
"And you are a citizen, Anna."
The band started to play "My Country, 'tis of Thee," and Ivan and Anna got to their feet. Standing side by side, holding hands, they joined in with the others who had found after long days of journeying the blessed land where dreams come true.
WHOSE DOG--?[6]
BY FRANCES GREGG
From _The Forum_
[6] Copyright, 1915, by Mitch.e.l.l Kennerley.
"Hey--there's ladies here, move on--you!" The tone was authoritative and old John, the village drunkard, crouched away.
"I warn't doin' nothin'," he clutched feebly at the loose hanging rags that clothed him, "only wanted to see same's them. Guess this pier's big enough to hold us all."
"Halloo, John, have a drink?" A grinning boy held a can of salt water toward him.
The quick maudlin tears sprang to the old man's eyes. "Little fellers,"
he muttered, "little fellers, they oughtn't ter act that way."
"Give him a new necktie, he's gotta go to dinner with the Lodge." A handful of dank sea-weed writhed around the old man's neck. "That's a turtle, that is," the boy went on, the need for imparting information justifying his lapse from ragging the drunkard. "There--swimming round--it's tied to that stake. You orter've seen it at low tide when it was on the beach. It weighs ninety pounds."
"I seen a turtle onct," the drunkard quavered. "It was bigger'n that.
En they tied it to a stake--en it swam round--en it swam round--." His sodden brain clutched for something more to say, some marvel with which to hold the interest of the gathered boys. It was good to talk. If only they would let him talk to them. If only they would let him sit on the store porch and smoke and gossip. He wouldn't be the town disgrace--
"Well--go on--what'd't do?"
"Hey you!"--the boys were interrupted by the authoritative voice--"I told you to move on, didn't I--now if I tell you again I'll run you in.
The Best Short Stories of 1915 Part 9
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The Best Short Stories of 1915 Part 9 summary
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