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"Is the colonel there?" and she indicated what seemed to be an ideal fishing place among the willows. "He was, Miss Viola, but he done gone now." "Gone? Where? Do you mean back to the house?" "No'm. He done gone t' N'York." "New York?" "Yes'm. On de afternoon train. He say he may be back t'night, an' mebby not 'twell mornin'." "But New York-and so suddenly! Why did he go, Shag?"
"He's ben in the bank a matter o' five or six year, but Dave got down on him fer some little thing or other, an' he's got his walkin' papers. He says to me, says he, 'If any feller thinks he c'n come up here f'm N'York or anywheres else, he says, 'an' do Dave Harum's work to suit him, he'll find he's bit off a dum sight more'n he c'n chaw.
I don't say there aren't folk who live their lives like as if they were dead, covered with flowers and never moving a hand to help themselves like some of those N'York women but they don't count. They're against nature and I guess when they die they die, for they haven't ever lived."
Robinson instantly arrived at the determination that the stranger was "stuck up," but was in no degree cast down thereby. "I heard Chet Timson tellin' that the' was a feller comin' f'm N'York to work in Dave Harum's bank. Guess you're him, ain't ye?" No answer this time: theory confirmed. "My name's Robinson," imparted that individual. "I run the prince'ple liv'ry to Homeville."
Look right round you, do you see his statue?" "No," said Phyl, sweeping the view. "Where is it?" "Just so, where is it? It's not here, it's not in N'York, it's not in Baltimore, it's not in Philadelphia, it's not in Boston. The one real splendid writing man that America has produced she's ashamed to put up a statue to. Why? Because he drank! Why, God bless my soul, Grant drank.
Each bridge was to be lighted by electricity, and "I'll push Grandpa's wheel chair all across the top o' N'York!" he declared. Father Pat did not laugh at this think. On the contrary, he thought it both practical and grand.
Why, they'll be laughing at the jokes in the N'York papers next They'll be appreciating their own good sense and cleverness and personal beauty next thing They'll be worshipping Bryan."
"Yes," said Pinckney shamefacedly, almost, and wondering what sin against the covenances he had committed now. "And she after that journey from N'York. Richard Pinckney, you are a man I was going to have called you a fool but it's the same thing. Here, come on both of you the child must be starving. This is the breakfast room, Phyl Phyl!
"Yes, I did," the storekeeper declared. "I was third aboard her she carried a full crew. She sailed out o' N'York for Australia and home by the way of the Chile ports and the Horn a hermaphrodite brig she was; and she could sail! "But she warn't well found. The grub was wuss'n a Blue-nose herrin' smack's. Weevilly bread and rusty beef.
He probably was safe enough for so long as he bided there; there had been no newspaper publicity, and he felt reasonably sure that openly, at least, the aid of regular police departments would not be set in motion against him; so he put the thoughts of arrest and extradition and such like unpleasant contingencies out of his mind. But li'l' old N'York was his proper abiding place.
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