CHAPTER III
OFF FOR COLORADO
It was finally decided that it would be best not to set out forColorado until the middle of March. There were many things to bearranged and provided for, and Mr. March did not wish to leave thepeople of his parish too suddenly. Afterward he wished that he hadgone away immediately, as soon as his decision was made; for the tenweeks that he waited were merely ten long weeks of good-bye.Everybody loved him, and was sorry he was going; and there was not aday that somebody did not come in to hear the whole story overagain, why he was going, when he was going, where he was going, andall about it. At last Mrs. March grew so tired of talking it allover and over, that she said to people: "I really can't talk anymore about it. We are not going till the fifteenth of March, but Iwish it were to-morrow." After the first two or three weeks, Rob andNelly lost much of their interest in talking it over; two monthsahead seemed to them just as far off as two years; and they did notmore than half believe they would ever really go. But when thepacking began, all their old interest and enthusiasm returned, andthey could not keep quiet a moment. Nelly's great anxiety was todecide whether she would better carry Mrs. Napoleon in her arms allthe way or let her go in a trunk. She said to her mother that shereally thought Mrs. Napoleon would go safer in her arms thananywhere else. "You see, mamma, I should never lay her down a singleminute, and how could any thing happen to her then? But in thetrunk she would be shaken and jolted all the time." The truth was,Nelly was very proud of Mrs. Napoleon, and she secretly had thoughtto herself, "I expect there'll be a great many little girls in thecars: in four whole days, there must be; and they would all like tosee such a beautiful doll."
Mrs. March understood this feeling in Nelly perfectly well, and itamused her very much to see how Nelly was trying to deceive herselfabout it.
"But, Nelly," she said, "the cars will be full of cinders and dust,and they will be sure to stick to the wax. Her face would get dirtyin a single day, and you can't wash it as you do Pocahontas's. Don'tyou think you'd better carry Pocahontas instead?"
Pocahontas was Nelly's next best doll: she was the big one I toldyou about; the one that was almost the size of a real live baby; theone which was so big that it made Mrs. March first think of usingher father's great stockings to hang up for Christmas stockings forthe children.
"Oh, mamma!" said Nelly: "Pocahontas is too heavy; and I don't carehalf so much for her as for dear beautiful Josephine. I shouldn'tcare very much if Pocahontas did get broken, but if any thing wereto happen to the Empress it would be dreadful. Do let me carry her,mamma. I'll make her a beautiful waterproof cloak just like mine;and she can wear two veils just as you do on the water."
"Very well, Nelly, you can do as you like," replied her mother; "butI warn you that you will wish the doll out of the way a great manytimes before we reach our journey's end; and I am afraid her lookswill be entirely spoiled."
"Oh, no, mamma!" replied Nelly, confidently. "You'll see you haven'tthe least idea what good care I shall take of her."
At last the day came when the last box was shut and nailed andcorded, the last leather bag locked, the last bundle rolled up andstrapped; and Mr. and Mrs. March, and Rob and Nelly, and littleDeacon Plummer and his good little wife, all stood on the doorstepsof the parsonage waiting for the stage, which was to carry them tenmiles to the railway station where they were to take the cars. Mrs.Napoleon really looked very pretty in her long waterproof cloak; itwas of bright blue lined with scarlet; and she wore a dark blue hatwith a little bit of scarlet feather in it, to match her cloak; andshe had a dark blue veil, two thicknesses of it, pinned very tightover her face and hat; Nelly held her hugged tight in her arms, andnever put her down.
"Oh, my! before I'd be bothered with a doll to carry," exclaimedRob, looking at Nelly,--"leave her behind. Give her to Mary Pratt.You won't care for dolls out in Colorado. I know you won't."
Nelly gave Rob a look which would have melted the heart of an olderboy; but Rob was not to be melted.
"Oh, you needn't look that way!" he said. "A doll's a plague: Iheard mamma tell you so too, so now, there," he added triumphantly.Nelly walked away in silence, and only hugged Mrs. Napoleon tighter,and Mr. March, who had been watching the scene, said to his wife:"Look at that motherly little thing. The doll's the same to her as ababy to you."
"Yes," said Mrs. March, "but Rob's right after all. It'll be a greatbother having that wax doll along; but I thought it was better tolet Nelly see for herself. I dare say she'll forget it, and leave itat the first place where we change cars."
"Not she," said Mr. March. "You don't know Nelly half so well as Ido, Sarah, if she is your own child. Nelly'd carry that doll roundthe world and never lay it down."
"We'll see," said Mrs. March, laughing. Mr. March was a littlevexed at his wife for saying this; and he privately resolved that hewould keep an eye on Mrs. Napoleon himself all through the journey,and see that she was not left behind at any station.
Four days and four nights in the cars, going, going, going everyminute, night and day, dark and light, asleep and awake: nobody hasany idea what such a journey is till he takes it. Poor old DeaconPlummer and Mrs. Plummer were so tired by the end of the second daythat they looked about ninety years old.
"Deary me!" Mrs. Plummer said a dozen times a day. "It's a greatdeal farther than I thought."
"I told you, Elizy, it was four days and four nights," the Deaconalways replied; "but I suppose you didn't sense it no more'n I did.Nobody couldn't believe the joltin' 'd be so wearin'. I feel's if mybones was all jelly in my skin," and the poor old man moved as ifthey were. He reeled when he walked; and, at each lurch the carsgave, he would catch hold of anything or anybody who happened to benear him. If it were a person, he would apologize most humbly: butif the car gave another lurch, even while he was apologizing, hewould catch hold again, just as hard as before, at which the personwould walk away quite offended; and very soon everybody in the cartried to keep out of the old man's way, they were so afraid of beingviolently laid hold of by him.
Rob and Nelly did not mind the jolting; did not mind the lurches thecars gave; did not mind the cinders, the dust, the noise. They werehaving the best time they ever had in their lives. For the first twodays of their journey, they were in what is called "Thedrawing-room," in the sleeping-car. I wonder if I could make thoseof you who have never been in a sleeping-car understand about thislittle room. I will try.
Most of the sleeping-cars have merely shelves along the sides in theplace where the seats are in the ordinary day-cars: curtains arehung in front of these shelves, and they are parted off from eachother like the shelves in a long cupboard. In the daytime, theseshelves are folded away and fastened up against the walls, and seatsleft below them. At night when people are ready to go to bed, theshelves are let down, and the curtains put up in front of them, andeach person climbs up on his shelf, and undresses behind thecurtain, and goes to bed. I forgot to say that a very good littlebed is made up on each shelf. A man who has the care of the car, andwho is called the porter, makes these beds. This is the way it is innearly all the sleeping-cars. But there are some cars which have,besides these, a nice little room walled off at one end. It hasseats for two people on each side; and these seats are made intocomfortable beds at night. It has two windows which open on theoutside of the car, and two which open on the narrow aisle of thecar; these four windows are all your own, if you have hired thewhole little room for yourself. You can have them either open orshut, just as you like, and nobody else has any right to say anything about it, which is a great comfort; in the ordinary car, youknow there is always somebody just behind you or just before you whois either too hot or too cold, and wants the windows shut when youwant them open, or open when you want them shut. This little roomhas a door at each end of it. One opens into the car where the restof the people are sitting. The other opens into a nice little closetwhere there is a washbowl and water, and you can take a bathcomfortably. At night the porter comes and hangs up curtains acrossthes
e doors, because they have glass in the tops of them; then hedraws the curtains at your windows; then he lights a lamp whichhangs in the middle of the ceiling in your room: and there you areshut up in as cunning a little bedroom as you would ever want tosee; and almost as snug and private as you could be in your ownbedroom. You can undress and go to bed comfortably; and, unless thejolting of the car keeps you awake, you can sleep all night assoundly as you would at home.
Rob and Nelly were delighted with this little room. So was Mrs.March. She hung up their cloaks and hats on the hooks, and took outtheir books and papers, and made the little room look like home.Nelly propped Mrs. Napoleon up in one corner of one of the redvelvet arm-chairs, and took off her blue veils, for there seemed tobe no dust at all.
"I wish I'd brought Pocahontas too," said Nelly: "there is so muchroom, and dolls do look so nice travelling like other people."
"People!" laughed Rob. "Dolls ain't people."
"They are too," said Nelly. "People are men and women, and there areboy dolls and girl dolls and women dolls and men dolls."
"Mamma, are dolls people?" asked Rob, vehemently. "Nell says theyare, and I say they ain't. They ain't: are they?"
"Not live people," said Mrs. March: "Nell didn't mean that."
"Oh, no!" said Nelly; "but they're play people, and you can't besure they don't know any thing just because they don't speak. Icould go a whole year without speaking if I tried to."
"I believe you could," laughed Mrs. March; "but Rob couldn't."
"Not I," said Rob. "What's the use? I like to talk. Nell's adumb-cat: that's what she is."
"I can talk if I've a mind to," retorted Nelly; "but I don't wantto; that is, not very often: I don't see the use in it."
This is the way it always was with Rob and Nelly. Dearly as theyloved each other, they never thought alike about any thing: but forthat very reason they did each other good; much more than if theyhad been just alike.
When it was time for breakfast or for dinner, the black porter,whose name was Charley, brought in a little square table and set itup as firm as he could between the seats. Then Mr. March lifted upthe big luncheon-basket on one of the chairs, and Mrs. March tookout her spirit-lamp, and they had great fun cooking. There was asaucepan which fitted over the spirit-lamp, and the flame of thespirit-lamp was so large that water boiled in this saucepan in avery few minutes. Mrs. March could make tea or chocolate or coffee:she could boil eggs, or warm up beef soup; then, after they hadeaten all they wanted, they heated more water in the same saucepanand washed their dishes in it. At first, this seemed dreadful toNelly, who was a very neat little girl.
"Oh, mamma," she said, "how horrid to cook in the same pan you washdishes in!" But Mrs. March laughed at her, and told her that whenpeople were travelling they could not afford to be so particular.
It was only for the first two days and nights of their journey thatthey had this comfortable little room. On the morning of the thirdday they reached Kansas City, and there they had to change cars.They sat in a large and crowded waiting-room, while Mr. March wentto see about the tickets. Nelly and Rob looked with greatastonishment on every thing they saw. They seemed already to havecome into a new world. The people looked strange, and a great manyof them were speaking German. There were whole families--father,mother, and perhaps half-a-dozen little children--sitting on therailway platforms, on big chests, which were tied up with strongropes. They had great feather-beds, too, tied in bundles and bulgingout all round the ropes. Their faces were very red, and theirclothes were old and patched: if Nelly had met them in the lanes ofMayfield, she would have taken them for beggars; but here they weretravelling just like herself, going the same way too, for shewatched several of them getting into the same train. Then there weregroups of men in leather clothes, with their boots reaching up totheir knees, and powder-horns slung across their shoulders. They allcarried rifles: some of them had two or three; and one of them, ashe stepped on the platform, threw down a dead deer; another carrieda splendid pair of antlers. Nelly took hold of Rob's hand and walkedvery cautiously nearer the dead deer.
"Oh, Rob!" she said, "it's a real deer. There is a picture of one inmy Geography with just such horns as these."
Nelly was carrying Mrs. Napoleon hugged up very tight in her arms;but she had not observed that, in the jostling of the crowd, Mrs.Napoleon had somehow turned her head round as if she were lookingbackward over Nelly's shoulder. Neither had she observed that twolittle girls were following closely behind her, jabbering German asfast as they could, and pointing to the doll. Presently, she felther gown pulled gently. She turned round, and there were the twolittle girls, both with outstretched hands, talking as fast asmagpies, and much more unintelligibly. Each of them took hold ofNelly's gown again, and made signs to her that she should let themtake the doll. They looked so eager that it seemed as if they wouldsnatch the doll out of her hands: the words they spoke sounded sothick and strange that it half frightened Nelly. "Oh, dear me, Rob!"she exclaimed; "do tell them to go away. Go away, good littlegirls, go away!" she said, pleadingly. "I can't let you take her."
"Clear out!" said Rob, roughly, taking hold of one of them by theshoulder and giving her a shove. No sooner had the words passed hislips than he felt himself lifted by the nape of his neck as if hehad been a little puppy: he was in the hand's of a great red-facedGerman, who looked like a scarlet giant to poor Rob, as he gazed upin his face. This was the father of the two little girls; he hadseen the shove that Rob gave his little Wilhelmina, and he was in agreat rage; he shook Rob back and forth, and cuffed his ears, allthe time talking very loud in German. All he said was:--
"You are a good-for-nothing: I will teach you manners, that you donot push little girls who are doing you no harm;" but it sounded inthe German language like something very dreadful.
Poor Nelly clung to him with one hand, and tried to stop his beatingRob.
"Oh, please don't whip my brother, sir!" she cried. "He did not meanto hurt the little girl. She was going to snatch my doll away fromme."
But the angry German shook Nelly off as if she had been a little flythat lighted on his arm. Rob did not cry out, nor speak a word. Hewas horribly frightened, but he was too angry to cry. He saidafterwards:--
"I thought he was going to kill me; but I just made up my mind Iwouldn't speak a single word if he did."
All this that I have been telling you didn't take much more than aminute; but it seemed to poor Nelly a thousand years. She wascrying, and the little German girls were crying too: they did notmean to do any harm, and they did not want the little boy whipped.Some rough men and women who were looking on began to laugh, andone man called out:--
"Go it, Dutchy, go it!"
Mr. March, who was just walking up the platform, heard the noise;and, when he looked up to see what it meant, what should he see buthis own Rob held away up in the air, in the powerful grip of thistall man, and being soundly cuffed about the ears. Mr. March sprangforward, and, taking hold of Rob with one hand, caught the angryman's uplifted arm in the other.
"Stop, sir," he said; "this is my little boy. What has he done?Leave him to me. What has he done?"
"Nothing, papa," called poor Rob, the tears coming into his eyes atthe sight of a protector; "nothing except push that ugly littleyellow-haired girl: I guess she is his; she was going to snatchNell's doll."
The German set Rob down; and, turning towards Mr. March, began topour out a torrent of words. Luckily, Mr. March understood most ofwhat he said, and could speak to him in his own language. So heexplained to him that his little daughters had tried to take Nelly'sdoll away from her, and that Rob had only intended to protect hissister, as was quite right and proper he should do. As soon as theman understood this, he turned at once to his little girls who stoodby crying, and asked them a short question in German.
They sobbed out, "ja, ja" (that means "yes, yes"). In less than aminute he caught up first the elder one, just as he had caught upRob, and boxed her ears; then the smaller one, and cuffed her
also;and set them both down on the ground, as if he were used to swingingchildren up in the air and boxing their ears every day. Then heturned to Rob, and taking him by the hand, said to Mr. March,--
"Explain to your little boy that I ask his pardon. He was doing theright thing: he is a gentleman; and I ask that he accept this hornfrom me and from my very bad little girls."
So saying, he took out of a great wallet that hung across his back abeautiful little powder horn. It was a horn of the chamois, thebeautiful wild deer that lives in the mountains in Switzerland. Itwas as black as ebony, and had a fine pattern cut on it, like aborder round the top; then it had a scarlet cord and silver buckles,to fasten it across the shoulders. Rob's eyes glistened with delightas he stretched out his hand for it.
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" he said. "Oh, papa! please thank him,and tell him I don't mind the whipping a bit now. And," he added,"please tell him, too, that I didn't mean to shove his little girlhard, only just to keep her off Nell."
Mr. March interpreted Rob's speech to the German, who noddedpleasantly and walked off, leading his two little sobbing childrenby the hand. He was so tall that the little girls looked like littleelves by his side, and he looked like the picture of the Giant withhis seven-league boots on. When Rob turned to show his beautifulpowder horn to Nelly, she was nowhere to be seen.
"Why, where is Nell, papa?" he exclaimed.
Mr. March looked around anxiously, but could see nothing of her.They hurried back into the waiting-room, and there to their greatrelief they saw Nelly sitting by her mother's side. Rob rushed up toher, holding up his powder horn, and exclaiming,--
"Why, Nell, what made you come away? That old thrasher was asplendid fellow: see what he gave me, as soon as papa made himunderstand; and he cuffed those girls well, I tell you,--most ashard as he did me. Why, Nell, what's the matter?" Rob suddenlyobserved that Nelly was crying.
"Don't talk to Nelly just now," said Mrs. March: "she is introuble." And she put her arm round Nelly tenderly.
"But what is it, mamma?" exclaimed Rob; "tell me. Is she hurt?"
"What is it, Sarah?" said Mr. March. By this time Nelly was sobbinghard, and her head was buried on her mother's shoulder. Mrs. Marchpointed to Nelly's lap: there lay a shapeless and dirty littlebundle, which Nelly held grasped feebly in one hand. It was theremains of Mrs. Napoleon. The blue waterproof was all torn andgrimed with dirt; a broken wax arm hung out at one side; and whenRob cautiously lifted a fold of the waterproof, there came into viewa shocking sight: poor Mrs. Napoleon's face, or rather what had beenher face, without a single feature to be seen in it,--just a roundball of dirty, crumbling wax, with the pretty yellow curls allmatted in it. Mr. March could not help smiling at the sight;luckily, Nelly did not see him.
"Why, how did that happen?" he said.
"What a shame!" exclaimed Rob. "Say, Nell, you shall have my powderhorn;" and he thrust it into her hand. Nelly shook her head andpushed it away, but did not speak. Her heart was too full.
Then Mrs. March told them in a low tone how it had happened. WhenNelly caught hold of the German's arm, trying to stop his beatingRob, she had forgotten all about Mrs. Napoleon, and let her fall tothe ground. Nobody saw her, and, in the general scuffle, the dollhad been trampled under foot. Really, if one had not been so sorryfor Nelly, one could not help laughing at the spectacle. The scarletfeather and the bright blue cloak, and the golden curls, and thedark blue veils, and the red and white wax, all mixed up togetherso that you would have hardly known that it was a doll atall,--except that one blue eye was left whole, with a little bit ofthe red cheek under it. This made the whole wreck look still worse.
"Our first railroad accident," said Mrs. March, laughingly. Nellysobbed harder than ever.
"Hush," said Mr. March, in a low tone to his wife. "Don't make lightof it."
"Nelly, dear," he said, taking hold of the doll gently, "shall notpapa throw the poor dolly away? You don't want to look at her anymore."
"Oh, no, no!" said Nelly, lifting up the bundle, and hugging ittighter.
"Very well, dear," replied her father, "you shall keep it as long asyou like. But let me pin poor dolly up tight, so that nobody can seehow she is hurt."
Nelly gave the doll up without a word, and her kind papa rolled thelittle waterproof cloak tight round the body and arms; then hedoubled up the blue veil and pinned it many thicknesses thick allround the head; and then he took a clean dark-blue and white silkhandkerchief of his own and put outside all the veil, and made itinto a snug little parcel, that nobody would have known was a dollyat all.
"There, Nelly," he said, putting it in her lap, "there is dolly, allrolled up, so that nobody can look at her."
Nelly took the sad little bundle, and laid it across her knees.
"Can she ever be mended, papa?" she said.
"No, dear, I think not," said Mr. March; "I think the sooner you puther out of your sight the better; but now we must go into the cars."
Poor Nelly! she walked slowly along, carrying the blue and whitepackage as if it were a coffin,--as indeed it was, a kind of coffin,for a very dead dolly.
As they were going into the car, Mr. March said to his wife:--
"There is no drawing-room in the sleeping-car which goes throughto-day. I have had to take two sections."
Mrs. March had never travelled in a sleeping-car before, and she didnot know how much nicer the little room was than the "sections." Soshe replied: "They'll do just as well, won't they?"
"I think you will not like them quite so well," replied Mr. March;"you cannot be by yourself with the children. But it is only for onenight; we will make the best of it. There are our sections, oneright opposite the other; so you will not have strangers oppositeyou."
They put their lunch-basket and bags and bundles down on the floor,and sat down on the two sofas, facing each other. Nelly put her blueand white parcel in one corner of the sofa, lay down with her headon it, and was soon fast asleep. There were tears on her cheeks.
"Poor child!" said Mr. March; "this is her first real grief."
"I'm glad I ain't a girl," said Rob, bluntly; "I don't believe indolls, do you, papa?"
Mr. March answered Rob's question by another.
"Do you believe in babies, Rob?"
"Why, of course, papa! What a funny question! I think babies arereal nice. They're alive, you know."
"Yes," said his father; "but dolls are just the same to little girlsthat babies are to grown-up women. Nelly felt just like a mother toMrs. Napoleon. She was a very good little mother too."
"Yes," said Mrs. March; "she was. I am very sorry for her."
"I'm real glad Deacon Plummer and Mrs. Plummer weren't here," saidRob.
"Why, why, Rob?" said his mother.
(Deacon and Mrs. Plummer had left the train at Quincy to spend aweek with a son of theirs who lived there. They were to join theMarches later, in Denver.)
"Oh, because she'd have said: 'This is--cough--cough--providential.'What does providential mean, anyhow, papa? You never say it. Does itmake you cough and sneeze? Mrs. Plummer is always saying it aboutevery thing."
Mr. and Mrs. March laughed so hard at this they could not speak forsome minutes. Then Mr. March said:--
"You must not speak so, Rob;" but, before he had finished hissentence, he had to stop again, and laugh harder than before."Deacon and Mrs. Plummer are going to be the greatest help to us,and they are as good and kind as they can be."
"Yes, I like her crullers first-rate," said Rob. "What doesprovidential mean, papa?"
Mr. March looked puzzled.
"I hardly know how to tell you, Rob. Mrs. Plummer means by it thatGod made the thing happen, whatever it is that she is speaking of,on purpose for her accommodation: that is one way of using the word.I do not believe that doctrine: so I never use the word, because itwould be understood to mean something I don't believe in."
"I should think God'd be too busy," said Rob, as if he were thinkingvery hard; "he couldn't remember everybody, could
he?"
"Not in that way, I think," said Mr. March; "but in another way Ithink it is true that he never forgets anybody. It is something likemy garden, Rob. You know I've got parsnips, and carrots, and beets,and potatoes,--oh! a dozen of things, all growing together. Now Inever forget my garden. I know when it is time to have the cornhoed; and I know, when there hasn't been any rain for a long time,that I must water it. But I don't think about each particular carrotor parsnip in the bed: I could hardly count them if I tried. Yet Imean to take very good care of my garden, and never let them sufferfor any thing; and if any one of my vegetables were to be thirsty,if it could speak, it ought to ask me to give it some water."
I am afraid Rob did not listen attentively to this long explanation.He never thought of any one thing very long, as you know. And he wasbusy now watching all the people pour into the car. There was alittle girl, only about Nelly's age, who had to be carried on alittle mattress. She could not walk. Something was the matter withher spine. Her father and mother were with her. And there was a ladywith a sweet face, who was too ill to sit up at all. The sofas inher "section" were made up into a bed as soon as she came in; shehad a doctor and a nurse with her.
Then there were several couples, who had two or three children withthem; and one poor lady who was travelling all alone with fivechildren, and the largest only twelve years old; and there were someEnglishmen with guns and fishing-rods and spy-glasses and almostevery thing you could think of that could be cased in leather andcarried on a journey,--one of them even had a bath-tub, a big, roundbath-tub, in addition to every thing else. He had a man-servant withhim who carried all these things, or else he never could have got onat all. The man's name was Felix. That is a Latin word which means"happy," but I don't think this poor fellow was happy at all. He wasa Frenchman. I don't know how he came to be an Englishman's servant,but I suppose the Englishman had lived a great while in France, andhad found him there. Felix's master always talked French with him;so Felix had not learned much English, and it would have made youlaugh to see him clap his hand to his head when anybody said anything he could not understand. He would pound his head as if hecould drive the meaning in that way; and then he would pull his thinhair; and then sometimes he would turn round and round as fast as atop two or three times. When he came into the cars loaded down withthe guns and the rods and the bundles and the bath-tub, his masterwould tell him to put them down in the corner; then the porter wouldcome along and say:--
"Look here! you can't have all these things in here," and then Felixwould say:--
"Vat dat you say, sare?"
Then the porter would repeat it; and Felix would say again:--
"Vat dat you say, sare?"
And then the porter would get angry, and pick up some of the things,and lay them on Felix's back, and tell him to carry them off; andthere Felix would stand stock-still, with the things on his back,till his master appeared. Then he would pour out all his story ofhis troubles in French, and the Englishman would be very angry withthe porter, and say that he would have his things where he pleased;and the porter would say he should not. He must put them under hisberth or in the baggage car; and poor Felix would stand all thewhile looking first in the porter's face and then in his master's,just like a dog that is waiting for his master to tell him which wayto run for a thing. Great drops of perspiration would stand on hisforehead, and his face would be as red as if it were August: he wasso worried and confused. Poor Felix! he was one of the drollestsights in the whole journey.
The people kept pouring in.
"Mamma, where are they all to sleep?" whispered Rob.
"I'm sure I don't know, Rob," she answered.
At last the train moved off, and the different families arrangedthemselves in their own sections, and it seemed a little lesscrowded. But there were not seats enough for all the children, andsome of them were obliged to sit on the floor in the middle of theaisle. The lady who had five children had only engaged one berth:that is half of a section.
"How do you expect to manage about sleeping?" said Mrs. March toher.
"Oh, that's easy enough," said she. "We've slept so all the way fromNew York. I put the three little ones crosswise at the foot, and thetwo others lie 'longside of me."
Mrs. March did not reply to this; but she thought to herself, "I'dlike to see those babies after they are all packed away for thenight."
At noon the train stopped for the passengers to take their dinner ata little station. More than half the people in the car went out.Then the porter--the new porter's name was Ben--brought in littletables and put them up between the seats for the people who hadtheir own lunch-baskets and did not want to go out to dinner. In thenext section to the Marches were a man and his wife with threechildren. They had a big coffee-pot full of coffee, and one tin cupto drink it from. They had loaves of brown bread, a big cheese, anda bunch of onions. As soon as they opened their basket, the smell ofthe onions and the cheese filled the car.
"Ugh!" said Rob; "where does this horrible smell come from?"
Luckily the people who owned the cheese and the onions did not hearhim, and before he had time to say any more, his mother whispered tohim to be quiet; but Rob's face was one of such disgust, that nobodycould have looked at him without seeing that he was veryuncomfortable. Mrs. March felt as uncomfortable as Rob did: but sheknew that those people had just the same right to have cheese andonions on their table that she had to have chocolate and orangemarmalade on hers; so she opened one of the windows wide to let infresh air, and went on with her dinner. As soon as the spirit-lampbegan to burn, the children in the next section exclaimed aloud:"Oh, what is that? what is that?" They had never seen any thing ofthe kind before. The two eldest, who were boys, jumped down fromtheir seat, each carrying a big piece of bread and of cheese, andcame crowding around Mrs. March to look at the lamp. Mrs. March wasa very gentle and polite woman, but she could not help being vexedat these ill-mannered children.
"Go away, little boys," she said: "I am very busy now. I am afraidyou will upset the lamp, and get burned."
Then she looked at the father and mother, hoping they would calltheir children back. But they took no notice of them: they went oneating their bread and cheese and onions; and, at every fresh onionthey sliced, a fresh whiff of the strong, disagreeable odor wentthrough the car. Mr. March had been out to the eating-house, to getsome milk. Mrs. March had brought a big square glass bottle, whichheld three pints; and, whenever they stopped at an eating-house, Mr.March bought fresh milk to fill it, and this was a great addition totheir bill of fare. He came into the car at this moment, bringingthe milk bottle, and as soon as he opened the car door, heexclaimed, as Rob had done:--
"Ugh!" but in a second more he saw what had made the odor, and hesaid no more. As he handed the milk to his wife, she said in a lowtone:--
"Could we go anywhere else to eat our dinner, Robert?"
Mr. March looked all around the car and shook his head.
"No," he said; "every seat is taken, and at any moment the peoplemay come back. It is nearly time now for the train to start. Wewill make a hasty meal; perhaps we can do better at night."
Rob and Nelly were very quiet. They did not like the two strangeboys who stood close to their seat staring at them, and at everything which was on the table. Rob whispered to Nelly:--
"'Tain't half so nice as it was in the little room: is it, Nell?"
"No," said Nelly.
"Shouldn't you think they'd be ashamed to stare so?" continued Rob,making a gesture over his shoulder towards their uninvited guests.
"Yes," said Nelly. "It's real rude."
Still the boys stood immovable at Mrs. March's knee. At last one ofthem lifted his head, and, saying "What keeps that thing on there?"pointed to the saucepan standing on the little tripod of the lamp.Just at that moment, his brother accidentally hit his arm and madehis hand go farther than he meant: it hit the saucepan and knockedit over; down went the spirit-lamp, all the alcohol ran out and tookfire, and for a few minute
s there was a great hubbub I assure you.Mr. March seized their heavy woollen lap-robe, and threw it on thefloor above the burning alcohol, and stamped out the flames; andnobody was burned. But the nice chocolate was all lost; it wentrunning down a little muddy stream, way out to the door; and thetumbler which had the butter in it fell to the floor and was broken;and the nice slices of white bread which Mrs. March had just cutwere all soaked in alcohol and spoiled; and altogether it was awretched mess, and all because two little boys had not been taughthow to behave properly. They ran off as hard as they could go, youmay be sure, back into their own seat, as soon as the mischief wasdone; and, if you will believe it, their father and mother nevereven looked round or took notice of all the confusion that wasgoing on. They sat and munched their onions and brown bread andcheese as if they were in their own house all alone. One sees veryqueer and disagreeable people in travelling. By the time Mr. andMrs. March had put out the fire, and picked up all the things andwiped up the chocolate as well as they could with a newspaper, thepeople who had gone out to get their dinners, all came pouring back,and the cars began to move.
"Oh, dear me!" said Mrs. March: "we shall have to go without ourlunch now till tea-time. Here, children, just drink this milk, andeat a piece of bread, and at tea-time, perhaps, we'll have betterluck."
"I don't care," said Rob; "I ain't hungry a bit: it's all so horridin here."
"Neither am I," said Nelly. "Can't we have a little room all toourselves to-morrow, papa?"
"No, Nell," said her father: "no more little room for us on thisjourney; this car goes through to Denver. We can't change. But it isonly one night and one day: we can stand it."
"I'm glad part of it is night," said Nelly; "we'll be by ourselveswhen we're in bed."
"Yes," said Mrs. March. "You are to sleep with me, and Rob withpapa; and we'll be all shut in behind the curtains. I think thatwill be quite comfortable."
When the train stopped for the passengers to take supper, Mr. andMrs. March decided that they would go out too, and not try any moreexperiments with the spirit-lamp while they had such dangerous anddisagreeable companions in the next seat.
Nelly and Rob clung to their father's hand as they entered theeating-room. There were four long tables, all filled with peopleeating as fast as they could eat. Nearly all the men had their hatson their heads, and the noise of the knives and forks sounded likethe clatter of machinery. The train was to stop only twenty minutes,and everybody was trying to eat all he could in so short a time. Mr.and Mrs. March, being very gentle and quiet people, did not hurrythe waiters as the other people did; and so it happened that theirsupper was not brought to them for some time. Nelly had eaten only afew mouthfuls of her bread and milk when there was a general rushfrom all the tables, and the room was emptied in a minute. Theconductor of the train was sitting at the table with the Marches,and he said kindly to them:--
"Don't hurry; there is plenty of time; five minutes yet."
"Five minutes!" said Rob, scornfully: "I couldn't take fivemouthfuls in five minutes. I'm going to carry mine into the cars."And he began spreading bread and butter.
"A good idea, Rob," said his mother. And she did the same thing;and, as the conductor called "All aboard!" the March family enteredthe car, each carrying two slices of bread and butter.
"Not much better luck with our supper than with our dinner, Sarah,"said Mr. March; "I think you'll have to open your lunch-basket,after all."
"Oh, don't ask me to!" said Mrs. March. "The children have had agood drink of milk. We can get along till morning. I would rather gohungry than take out the things with all those people looking on. Wecan go to bed early: that will be a comfort."
Mistaken Mrs. March! They sat on the steps of the cars for half anhour to watch the sunset. The brakeman had found out that Mr. Marchwas so careful and Nelly and Rob were such good children that he letthem sit there as often as they liked. Nelly loved dearly to sitbetween her father's knees on the upper step and look down at theground as it seemed to fly away so swiftly under the wheels.Sometimes they went so fast that the ground did not look like groundat all. It looked like a smooth, striped sheet of brown and greenpaper being drawn swiftly under the car wheels. It seemed to Rob andNelly as if they must be going out over the edge of the world. Allthey could see was sky and ground.
"This is the way it looks when you are out in the middle of theocean, Nell," said her father; "just the great round sky over yourhead, and the great flat sea underneath: only the sea is never stillas the ground is; that is the only difference."
"Still!" cried Rob. "You don't call this ground under us still, doyou? It's going as fast as lightning all the time."
"No, Rob! it is we who are going; the ground is still," said hismother; "but it does look just as if the ground were flying one wayand we the other. It makes me almost dizzy to look down."
Pretty soon the moon came up in the east. It was almost full, and,as it came up slowly in sight, it looked like a great circle offire. Rob and Nelly both cried out, when they first saw it:--
"Oh, mamma! oh, papa! see that fire!"
In a very few minutes it was up in full sight, and then they sawwhat it was.
"Dear me! only the moon, after all," said Rob; "I hoped it was a bigfire."