Hidden Hand Part 10
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"But, my boy--my good girl, I mean--before you became so dest.i.tute you should have found something or other to do," said the Recorder.
"Sir, I was trying to get jobs every hour in the day. I'd have done anything honest. I went around to all the houses Granny knew, but they didn't want a girl. Some of the good-natured landlords said if I was a boy, now, they could keep me opening oysters; but as I was a girl they had no work for me. I even went to the offices to get papers to sell; but they told me that crying papers was not proper work for a girl. I even went down to the ferry-boats and watched for the pa.s.sengers coming ash.o.r.e, and ran and offered to carry their carpet-bags or portmanteaus; but some growled at me, and others laughed at me, and one old gentleman asked me if I thought he was a North American Indian to strut up Broadway with a female behind him carrying his pack. And so, sir, while all the ragged boys I knew could get little jobs to earn bread, I, because I was a girl, was not allowed to carry a gentleman's parcel or black his boots, or shovel the snow off a shopkeeper's pavement, or put in coal, or do anything that I could do just as well as they. And so because I was a girl there seemed to be nothing but starvation or beggary before me!"
"Oh, Lord! oh, Lord! that such things should be!" cried Old Hurricane.
"That was bad, sir; but there was worse behind! There came a day when my meal, even the last dust of it, was gone. Then I kept life in me by drinking water and by sleeping all I could. At first I could not sleep for the gnawing--gnawing--in my stomach; but afterwards I slept deeply, from exhaustion, and then I'd dream of feasts and the richest sort of food, and of eating such quant.i.ties; and, really, sir, I seemed to taste it and enjoy it and get the good of it, almost as much as if it was all true! One morning after such a dream I was waked up by a great noise outside. I staggered upon my feet and crept to the window, and there, sir, were the workmen all outside a-pulling down the house over my head!"
"Good Heaven!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Old Hurricane, who seemed to const.i.tute himself the chorus of this drama.
"Sir, they didn't know that I or any one was in the empty house! Fright gave me strength to run down-stairs and run out. Then I stopped. Oh! I stopped and looked up and down the street. What should I do? The last shelter was gone away from me--the house where I had lived so many years, and that seemed like a friend to me, was falling before my eyes!
I thought I'd just go and pitch myself into the river and end it all!"
"That was a very wicked thought," said the Recorder.
"Yes, sir, I know it was, and, besides, I was dreadfully afraid of being suffocated in the dirty water around the wharf!" said Capitola, with a sparkle of that irrepressible humor that effervesced even through all her trouble. "Well, sir, the hand that feeds young ravens kept me from dying that day. I found a five-cent piece in the street and resolved not to smother myself in the river mud as long as it lasted. So I bought a m.u.f.fin, ate it, and went down to the wharf to look for a job. I looked all day but found none, and when night came I went into a lumber yard and hid myself behind a pile of planks that kept the wind off me, and I went to sleep and dreamed a beautiful dream of living in a handsome house, with friends all around me and everything good to eat and drink and wear!"
"Poor, poor child; but your dream may come true yet!" muttered Old Hurricane to himself.
"Well, your honor, next day I spent another penny out of my half-dime and looked in vain for work all day and slept at night in a broken-down omnibus that had happened to be left on the stand. And so, not to tire your patience, a whole week pa.s.sed away. I lived on my half-dime, spending a penny a day for a m.u.f.fin, until the last penny was gone, and sleeping at night wherever I could--sometimes under the front stoop of a house, sometimes in an old broken carriage and sometimes behind a pile of boxes on the sidewalk."
"That was a dreadful exposure for a young girl," said the Recorder.
A burning blush flamed up over the young creature's cheek as she answered:
"Yes, sir, that was the worst of all; that finally drove me to putting on boy's clothes."
"Let us hear all about it."
"Oh, sir, I can't--I--How can I? Well, being always exposed, sleeping outdoors, I was often in danger from bad boys and bad men," said Capitola, and, dropping her head upon her breast and covering her crimson cheeks with her hands, for the first time she burst into tears and sobbed aloud.
"Come, come, my little man--my good little woman, I mean! don't take it so to heart. You couldn't help it!" said Old Hurricane, with raindrops glittering even in his own stormy eyes.
Capitola looked up, with her whole countenance flas.h.i.+ng with spirit, and exclaimed: "Oh! but I took care of myself, sir! I did, indeed, your honor! You mustn't, either you or the old gentleman, dare to think but what I did!"
"Oh, of course! of course!" said a bystander, laughing.
Old Hurricane sprang up, bringing his feet down upon the floor with a resound that made the great hall ring again, exclaiming:
"What do you mean by 'of course! of course!' you villain? Demmy! I'll swear she took care of herself, you varlet; and if any man dares to hint otherwise, I'll ram his falsehood down his throat with the point of my walking stick and make him swallow both!"
"Order! order!" said the clerk.
Old Hurricane immediately wheeled to the right about faced and saluted the bench in military fas.h.i.+on, and then said:
"Yes, sir! I'll regard order! but in the meanwhile, if the court does not protect this child from insult I must, order or no order!" and with that the old gentleman once more subsided into his seat.
"Governor, don't you be so noisy! You'll get yourself stopped up into a jug next! Why, you remind me of an uproarious old fellow poor Granny used to talk about, that they called Old Hurricane, because he was so stormy!" whispered Capitola, turning toward him.
"Humph! she's heard of me, then!" muttered the old gentleman to himself.
"Well, sir--I mean, miss--go on!" said the clerk, addressing Capitola.
"Yes, sir. Well, your honor, at the end of five days, being a certain Thursday morning, when I couldn't get a job of work for love nor money, when my last penny was spent for my last roll, and my last roll was eaten up, and I was dreading the gnawing hunger by day and the horrid perils of the night, I thought to myself if I were only a boy I might carry packages and shovel in coal, and do lots of jobs by day, and sleep without terror by night. And then I felt bitter against Fate for not making me a boy. And so, thinking and thinking and thinking I wandered on until I found myself in Rag Alley, where I used to live, standing right between the pile of broken bricks, plaster and lumber that used to be my home, and the old Jew's shop where I sold my clothes for meal. And then all of a sudden a bright thought struck me? and I made up my mind to be a boy!"
"Made up your mind to be a boy?"
"Yes, sir, for it was so easy! I wondered how I came to be so stupid as not to have thought of it before. I just ran across to the old Jew's shop and offered to swap my suit of girl's clothes, that was good, though dirty, for any, even the raggedest suit of boy's clothes he had, whether they'd fit me or not, so they would only stay on me. The old fellow put his finger to his nose as if he thought I'd been stealing and wanted to dodge the police. So he took down an old, not very ragged, suit that he said would fit me, and opened a door and told me to go in his daughter's room and put 'em on.
"Well, not to tire your honors, I went into that little back parlor a girl and I came out a boy, with a suit of pants and jacket, with my hair cut short and a cap on my head! The Jew gave me a penny roll and a sixpence for my black ringlets."
"All seemed grist that came to his mill!" said Old Hurricane.
"Yes, Governor, he was a dealer in general. Well, the first thing I did was to hire myself to the Jew, at a sixpence a day and find myself, to shovel in his coal. That didn't take me but a day. So at night the Jew paid me, and I slept in peace behind a stack of boxes. Next morning I was up before the sun and down to the office of the little penny paper, the 'Morning Star.' I bought two dozen of 'em and ran as fast as I could to the ferry-boats to sell to the early pa.s.sengers. Well, sir, in an hour's time I had sold out and pocketed just two s.h.i.+llings, and felt myself on the highroad to fortune!"
"And so that was the way by which you came to put yourself in male attire?"
"Yes, sir, and the only thing that made me feel sorry was to see what a fool I had been not to turn to a boy before, when it was so easy! And from that day forth I was happy and prosperous! I found plenty to do! I carried carpet-bags, held horses, put in coal, cleaned sidewalks, blacked gentlemen's boots and did everything an honest lad could turn his hand to. And so for more'n a year I was as happy as a king, and should have kept on so, only I forgot and let my hair grow; and instead of cutting it off, just tucked it up under my cap; and so this morning on the ferry-boat, in a high breeze, the wind blowed off my cap and the policeman blowed on me!"
"'Twasn't altogether her long hair, your honor, for I had seen her before, having known her when she lived with old Mrs. Grewell in Rag Alley," interrupted the officer.
"You may sit down, my child," said the Recorder, in a tone of encouragement.
CHAPTER VII.
METAMORPHOSIS OF THE NEWSBOY.
With caution judge of probability, Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, Experience oft hath proven to be true.
--Shakespeare.
"What shall we do with her?" inquired the Recorder, sotto voce, of a brother magistrate who appeared to be a.s.sociated with him on the bench.
"Send her to the Refuge," replied the other, in the same tone.
"What are they consulting about?" asked Old Hurricane, whose ears were not of the best.
"They are talking of sending her to the Refuge," answered a bystander.
"Refuge? Is there a refuge for dest.i.tute children in New York? Then Babylon is not so bad as I thought it. What is this Refuge?"
"It is a prison where juvenile delinquents are trained to habits of----"
"A prison! Send her to a prison? Never!" burst forth Old Hurricane, rising and marching up to the Recorder; he stood, hat in hand, before him and said:
"Your honor, if a proper legal guardian appears to claim this young person and holds himself in all respects responsible for her, may she not be at once delivered into his hands?"
Hidden Hand Part 10
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Hidden Hand Part 10 summary
You're reading Hidden Hand Part 10. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth already has 615 views.
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