IX
I have to jot things down as they come into my mind, and I am afraid Iforget some of the most important. Everybody is so novel on this famoustour of ours that I am continually interested, but one has one'spreferences even in Altruria, and I believe I like best the wives of theartists and literary men whom one finds working in the galleries andlibraries of the capitals everywhere. They are not more intelligent thanother women, perhaps, but they are more sympathetic; and one sees solittle of those people in New York, for all they abound there.
The galleries are not only for the exhibition of pictures, but each hasnumbers of ateliers, where the artists work and teach. The libraries arethe most wonderfully imagined things. You do not have to come and studyin them, but if you are working up any particular subject, the booksrelating to it are sent to your dwelling every morning and brought awayevery noon, so that during the obligatory hours you have them completelyat your disposition, and during the Voluntaries you can consult them withthe rest of the public in the library; it is not thought best that studyshould be carried on throughout the day, and the results seem to justifythis theory. If you want to read a book merely for pleasure, you areallowed to take it out and live with it as long as you like; the copy youhave is immediately replaced with another, so that you do not feelhurried and are not obliged to ramp through it in a week or a fortnight.
The Altrurian books are still rather sealed books to me, but they aredelightful to the eye, all in large print on wide margins, with flexiblebindings, and such light paper that you can hold them in one handindefinitely without tiring. I must send you some with this, if I everget my bundle of letters off to you. You will see by the dates that I amwriting you one every day; I had thought of keeping a journal for you,but then I should have had left out a good many things that happenedduring our first days, when the impressions were so vivid, and I shouldhave got to addressing my records to myself, and I think I had betterkeep to the form of letters. If they reach you, and you read them atrandom, why that is very much the way I write them.
I despair of giving you any real notion of the capitals, but if youremember the White City at the Columbian Fair at Chicago in 1893, you canhave some idea of the general effect of one; only there is nothingheterogeneous in their beauty. There is one classic rule in thearchitecture, but each of the different architects may characterize anedifice from himself, just as different authors writing the same languagecharacterize it by the diction natural to him. There are suggestions ofthe capitals in some of our cities, and if you remember CommonwealthAvenue in Boston, you can imagine something like the union of street andgarden which every street of them is. The trolleys run under theoverarching trees between the lawns, flanked by gravelled footpathsbetween flower-beds, and you take the cars or not as you like. As thereis no hurry, they go about as fast as English trams, and the clanger fromthem is practically reduced to nothing by the crossings dipping underthem at the street corners. The centre of the capital is approached bycolonnades, which at night bear groups of great bulbous lamps, and by dayflutter with the Altrurian and Regionic flags. Around this centre are thestores and restaurants and theatres, and galleries and libraries, witharcades over the sidewalks, like those in Bologna; sometimes the arcadesare in two stories, as they are in Chester. People are constantly comingand going in an easy way during the afternoon, though in the morning thestreets are rather deserted.
But what is the use? I could go on describing and describing, and neverget in half the differences from American cities, with their hideousuproar, and their mud in the wet, and their clouds of swirling dust inthe wind. But there is one feature which I must mention, because you canfancy it from the fond dream of a great national highway which some ofour architects projected while they were still in the fervor ofexcitement from the beauty of the Peristyle, and other features of theWhite City. They really have such a highway here, crossing the wholeAltrurian continent, and uniting the circle of the Regionic capitals. Aswe travelled for a long time by the country roads on the beds of the oldrailways, I had no idea of this magnificent avenue, till one day myhusband suddenly ran our van into the one leading up to the first capitalwe were to visit. Then I found myself between miles and miles of statelywhite pillars, rising and sinking as the road found its natural levels,and growing in the perspective before us and dwindling behind us. I couldnot keep out of my mind a colonnade of palm-trees, only the fronds werelacking, and there were never palms so beautiful. Each pillar wasinscribed with the name of some Altrurian who had done something for hiscountry, written some beautiful poem or story, or history, made somescientific discovery, composed an opera, invented a universalconvenience, performed a wonderful cure, or been a delightful singer, ororator, or gardener, or farmer. Not one soldier, general or admiral,among them! That seemed very strange to me, and I asked Aristides howit was. Like everything else in Altruria, it was very simple; there hadbeen no war for so long that there were no famous soldiers tocommemorate. But he stopped our van when he came to the first of the manyarches which spanned the highway, and read out to me in English theAltrurian record that it was erected in honor of the first President ofthe Altrurian Commonwealth, who managed the negotiations when thecapitalistic oligarchies to the north and south were peacefully annexed,and the descendants of the three nations joined in the commemoration ofan event that abolished war forever on the Altrurian continent.
Here I can imagine Mr. Makely asking who footed the bills for this beautyand magnificence, and whether these works were constructed at the cost ofthe nation, or the different Regions, or the abuttors on the differenthighways. But the fact is, you poor, capitalistic dears, they cost nobodya dollar, for there is not a dollar in Altruria. You must worry into theidea somehow that in Altruria you cannot buy anything except by working,and that work is the current coin of the republic: you pay for everythingby drops of sweat, and off your own brow, not somebody else's brow. Thepeople built these monuments and colonnades, and aqueducts and highwaysand byways, and sweet villages and palatial cities with their own hands,after the designs of artists, who also took part in the labor. But it wasa labor that they delighted in so much that they chose to perform itduring the Voluntaries, when they might have been resting, and not duringthe Obligatories, when they were required to work. So it was all joy andall glory. They say there never was such happiness in any country sincethe world began. While the work went on it was like a perpetual Fourth ofJuly or an everlasting picnic.
But I know you hate this sort of economical stuff, Dolly, and I will makehaste to get down to business, as Mr. Makely would say, for I am reallycoming to something that you will think worth while. One morning, when wehad made half the circle of the capitals, and were on the homestretch tothe one where we had left our dear mother--for Aristides claims her,too--and I was letting that dull nether anxiety for her come to the top,though we had had the fullest telephonic talks with her every day, andknew she was well and happy, we came round the shoulder of a wooded cliffand found ourselves on an open stretch of the northern coast. At first Icould only exclaim at the beauty of the sea, lying blue and still beyonda long beach closed by another headland, and I did not realize that alarge yacht which I saw close to land had gone ashore. The beach wascrowded with Altrurians, who seemed to have come to the rescue, for theywere putting off to the yacht in boats and returning with passengers, andjumping out, and pulling their boats with them up on to the sand.
I was quite bewildered, and I don't know what to say I was the nextthing, when I saw that the stranded yacht was flying the American flagfrom her peak. I supposed she must be one of our cruisers, she was solarge, and the first thing that flashed into my mind was a kind of amusedwonder what those poor Altrurians would do with a ship-of-war and hermarines and crew. I couldn't ask any coherent questions, and luckilyAristides was answering my incoherent ones in the best possible way bywheeling our van down on the beach and making for the point nearest theyacht. He had time to say he did not believe she was a government vessel,and, in fact, I remembe
red that once I had seen a boat in the North Rivergetting up steam to go to Europe which was much larger, and had her deckscovered with sailors that I took for bluejackets; but she was only theprivate yacht of some people I knew. These stupid things kept going andcoming in my mind while my husband was talking with some of theAltrurian girls who were there helping with the men. They said that theyacht had gone ashore the night before last in one of the sudden fogsthat come up on that coast, and that some people whom the sailors seemedto obey were camping on the edge of the upland above the beach, under alarge tent they had brought from the yacht. They had refused to go to theguest-house in the nearest village, and as nearly as the girls could makeout they expected the yacht to get afloat from tide to tide, and thenintended to re-embark on her. In the mean time they had provisionedthemselves from the ship, and were living in a strange way of their own.Some of them seemed to serve the others, but these appeared to be usedwith a very ungrateful indifference, as if they were of a different race.There was one who wore a white apron and white cap who directed thecooking for the rest, and had several assistants; and from time to timevery disagreeable odors came from the camp, like burning flesh. TheAltrurians had carried them fruits and vegetables, but the men-assistantshad refused them contemptuously and seemed suspicious of the variety ofmushrooms they offered them. They called out, "To-stoo!" and I understoodthat the strangers were afraid they were bringing toad-stools. One of theAltrurian girls had been studying English in the nearest capital, and shehad tried to talk with these people, pronouncing it in the Altrurian way,but they could make nothing of one another; then she wrote down what shewanted to say, but as she spelled it phonetically they were not able toread her English. She asked us if I was the American Altrurian she hadheard of, and when I said yes she lost no time in showing us to the campof the castaways.
As soon as we saw their tents we went forward till we were met atthe largest by a sort of marine footman, who bowed slightly and saidto me, "What name shall I say, ma'am?" and I answered distinctly, sothat he might get the name right, "Mr. and Mrs. Homos." Then he heldback the flap of the marquee, which seemed to serve these people as adrawing-room, and called out, standing very rigidly upright, to let uspass, in the way that I remembered so well, "Mr. And Mrs. 'Omos!" and asevere-looking, rather elderly lady rose to meet us with an air that wasboth anxious and forbidding, and before she said anything else she burstout, "You don't mean to say you speak English?"
I said that I spoke English, and had not spoken anything else but ratherpoor French until six months before, and then she demanded, "Have youbeen cast away on this outlandish place, too?"
I laughed and said I lived here, and I introduced my husband as well as Icould without knowing her name. He explained with his pretty Altrurianaccent, which you used to like so much, that we had ventured to come inthe hope of being of use to them, and added some regrets for theirmisfortune so sweetly that I wondered she could help responding in kind.But she merely said, "Oh!" and then she seemed to recollect herself, andfrowning to a very gentle-looking old man to come forward, she ignored myhusband in presenting me. "Mr. Thrall, Mrs. ----"
She hesitated for my name, and I supplied it, "Homos," and as the old manhad put out his hand in a kindly way I took it.
"And this is my husband, Aristides Homos, an Altrurian," I said, andthen, as the lady had not asked us to sit down, or shown the least signof liking our being there, the natural woman flamed up in me as shehadn't in all the time I have been away from New York. "I am glad you areso comfortable here, Mr. Thrall. You won't need us, I see. The peopleabout will do anything in their power for you. Come, my dear," and I wassweeping out of that tent in a manner calculated to give the eminentmillionaire's wife a notion of Altrurian hauteur which I must own wouldhave been altogether mistaken.
I knew who they were perfectly. Even if I had not once met them I shouldhave known that they were the ultra-rich Thralls, from the multitudinouspictures of them that I had seen in the papers at home, not long afterthey came on to New York.
He was beginning, "Oh no, oh no," but I cut in. "My husband and I are onour way to the next Regionic capital, and we are somewhat hurried. Youwill be quite well looked after by the neighbors here, and I see that weare rather in your housekeeper's way."
It _was_ nasty, Dolly, and I won't deny it; it was _vulgar_. But whatwould _you_ have done? I could feel Aristides' mild eye sadly on me, andI was sorry for him, but I assure him I was not sorry for them, till thatold man spoke again, so timidly: "It isn't my--it's my wife, Mrs. Homos.Let me introduce her. But haven't we met before?"
"Perhaps during my first husband's lifetime. I was Mrs. BellingtonStrange."
"Mrs. P. Bellington Strange? Your husband was a dear friend of mine whenwe were both young--a good man, if ever there was one; the best in theworld! I am so glad to see you again. Ah--my dear, you remember myspeaking of Mrs. Strange?"
He took my hand again and held it in his soft old hands, as if hesitatingwhether to transfer it to her, and my heart melted towards him. You maythink it very odd, Dolly, but it was what he said of my dear, deadhusband that softened me. It made him seem very fatherly, and I felt theaffection for him that I felt for my husband, when he seemed more like afather. Aristides and I often talk of it, and he has no wish that Ishould forget him.
Mrs. Thrall made no motion to take my hand from him, but she said, "Ithink I have met Mr. Strange," and now I saw in the background, sittingon a camp-stool near a long, lank young man stretched in a hammock, avery handsome girl, who hastily ran through a book, and then dropped itat the third mention of my name. I suspected that the book was the SocialRegister, and that the girl's search for me had been satisfactory, forshe rose and came vaguely towards us, while the young man unfoldedhimself from the hammock, and stood hesitating, but looking as if herather liked what had happened.
Mr. Thrall bustled about for camp-stools, and said, "Do stop and havesome breakfast with us, it's just coming in. May I introduce my daughter,Lady Moors and--and Lord Moors?" The girl took my hand, and the young manbowed from his place; but if that poor old man had known, peace was notto be made so easily between two such bad-tempered women as Mrs. Thralland myself. We expressed some very stiff sentiments in regard to theweather, and the prospect of the yacht getting off with the next tide,and my husband joined in with that manly gentleness of his, but we didnot sit down, much less offer to stay to breakfast. We had got to thedoor of the tent, the family following us, even to the noble son-in-law,and as she now realized that we are actually going, Mrs. Thrall gaspedout, "But you are not _leaving_ us? What shall we _do_ with all thesenatives?"
This was again too much, and I flamed out at her. "_Natives_! They arecultivated and refined people, for they are Altrurians, and I assure youyou will be in much better hands than mine with them, for I am onlyAltrurian by marriage!"
She was one of those leathery egotists that nothing will make a dint in,and she came back with, "But we don't speak the language, and they don'tspeak English, and how are we to manage if the yacht doesn't get afloat?"
"Oh, no doubt you will be looked after from the capital we have justleft. But I will venture to make a little suggestion with regard to thenatives in the mean time. They are not proud, but they are verysensitive, and if you fail in any point of consideration, they willunderstand that you do not want their hospitality."
"I imagine our own people will be able to look after us," she answeredquite as nastily. "We do not propose to be dependent on them. We can payour way here as we do elsewhere."
"The experiment will be worth trying," I said. "Come, Aristides!" and Itook the poor fellow away with me to our van. Mr. Thrall made somehopeless little movements towards us, but I would not stop or even lookback. When we got into the van, I made Aristides put on the full power,and fell back into my seat and cried a while, and then I scolded himbecause he would not scold me, and went on in a really scandalous way. Itmust have been a revelation to him, but he only smoothed me on theshoulder and said, "Poor Eveleth
, poor Eveleth," till I thought I shouldscream; but it ended in my falling on his neck, and saying I knew I washorrid, and what did he want me to do?
After I calmed down into something like rationality, he said he thoughtwe had perhaps done the best thing we could for those people in leavingthem to themselves, for they could come to no possible harm among theneighbors. He did not believe from what he had seen of the yacht from theshore, and from what the Altrurians had told him, that there was onechance in a thousand of her ever getting afloat. But those people wouldhave to convince themselves of the fact, and of several other facts intheir situation. I asked him what he meant, and he said he could tell me,but that as yet it was a public affair, and he would rather notanticipate the private interest I would feel in it. I did not insist; infact, I wanted to get that odious woman out of my mind as soon as Icould, for the thought of her threatened to poison the pleasure of therest of our tour.
I believe my husband hurried it a little, though he did not shorten it,and we got back to the Maritime Region almost a week sooner than we hadfirst intended. I found my dear mother well, and still serenely happy inher Altrurian surroundings. She had begun to learn the language, and shehad a larger acquaintance in the capital, I believe, than any other oneperson. She said everybody had called on her, and they were the kindestpeople she had ever dreamed of. She had exchanged cooking-lessons withone lady who, they told her, was a distinguished scientist, and she hadtaught another, who was a great painter, a peculiar embroidery stitchwhich she had learned from my grandmother, and which everybody admired.These two ladies had given her most of her grammatical instruction inAltrurian, but there was a bright little girl who had enlarged hervocabulary more than either, in helping her about her housework, themother having lent her for the purpose. My mother said she was notashamed to make blunders before a child, and the little witch had takenthe greatest delight in telling her the names of things in the house andthe streets and the fields outside the town, where they went long walkstogether.