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Full text of "The Biography of a New York Hotel Scrub"

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The Arthur and Elizabeth 

SCHLESINGER LIBRARY 

on the History of Women 

in America 

RADCLIFFE COLLEGE 




Gift of Margaret Cowin 




rm 



^PRICE. 26 CENTS. 

lOORAPH/ or A 




HOIEL 





ADA BLOM/;',;/ 



^ {OOPvataHT, 1*09, BT Aba Blok,)/' - 



IWi book will be mni by mail, pOBtpaid, to anjraddnBft npoir. 
receipt of 25 oente in eilrer^ }:, f ., r,^-^ w^;; , . 





ADA BLOM, ^ii/ 

303 East^st Street, ;^^^^^^ 




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5 BIOGRAPHY 
/: ? NEW YORK HOTEL SCRUB #^>1 



^ 






>'■ 






" -. CHAPTER I ■ :*^--'Vj^- 

THE FOURTH COMMANDMENT 



I WAS bom In Sweden, of Swedish parents^ When I 
was fourteen years of age I ran away from home, on ac- 
count of a too severe father^ who was a learned man — self 
taught — a country school teacher, who, on a small salary,-^ 
did his best to aid an ailing wife, \ ' , - . " 

My father's thought was to have his two oldest chil- 
dren, my brother and myself, educated so as we could be 
of assistance to him in the future. My brother, who was 
much older tlrnn I, was sent to Gotenborgp while I. re-;, 
tnained at home under the tutelage of my parents* . 

Until that time I had been allowed all the freedom I 
wished — roamed as my fancy dictated among the wildly 
beautiful picturesque scenery that surrounded my father's 
little Hydda, and that I loved so well and never grew 
tired of. The long winter evenings were spent by the_ 
fireside near father and mother, playing with my rag dolls 
and watching father carving, of wood, all kinds of play- 
' things for his little Ada to play with; yes, from a doU 
, cradle up to the University in tjppsala, where he had 

great hope that my brother Axel would finish his studies.;,, 
>r, if father's schoolhouse was too remote and he did nott,' 
come home at nighty I would then forget my playthings "- 
:and sink down on my new little **pall/T latent present of' 
father—rnear mother and her spinningrwheel, Continually' 
watching that sweety pal^ face and the expressipns shift-" 
ing upon it, and.worshipping^her w^ with" a 

strange, sweet vibratin g^oi ce/ satig sefitimental and beau- • 
tiful old folk nieiodyPJhi^V^^^ outbf Fritoff Saga.\ 






) >' 



^ -: 









ii'':V"^'^ '" ^'^'-'^ /'y»--'6S 



.r^- 




/^ THE biography' OF i 

Fritoffock; Under borg, or that Axetock iJ 
■SkaHdestyckenr^alasI : \ . . . . ■ %v;w j;.-^ vsi : 
One evening my father took me on his knee and showed 
me a Itttle book, : '*Here/ my child," he said, '*papa is 
gomg to teach yoti the contents in this little book, and I 
:;now hope that littJe Ada will be everything I hope her to 
_be, and the pride of her father/' . 

\ *'Yes, papa/M said, and sprang upon his lap in high 
^_ glee. ' It was the Lutheran catechism. He gave me one 
^ii: lesson from the book, the First Commandment— "Thou 
^j^ Shalt have no other gods before me/' ^ ^ ^... - .. , 

- ^^- My mother, who thoroughly believed every word in the^ 

* Old and New Testament, took care to explain to me in 
the meantime that our God or Lord had sent down this 

^n !'«'^ t>^K, and if I did not strictly obey all that was said 

^' uu T^^' ^ ^*^"'^' "^^^^ ^^^^' ^ damned— be sent to? 
.hell and there be burned, burned, burned for eternity. ; -> 

f'^w^^u^'r ?^'^ ^^ njother, then with a deep sigh rfr 
^; relief, she folded her hands in deepest reverence and sank^ 
J-.down to pray-^o doubt thinking she had spoken for my \i 
^^^welfare; .But I am afraid my mother's well-meant en- i 
fc'l ^Vh^*"^ ^^^ *^ strong for my sensitive nature. Terror^ i 
-^yti^^^ P]^ ^hen my father, a few days afterward, called - 
^'^^^\T u^ ^^^ '" ^^""^ - ''Forsta Budet, Ada/' ^ : i 

fe , We shall have no other gods than this extraordinarHy 
icmel one?" ^ _ ;' . 

SgTW ar detr i - ..4 y^^fit^T^ur*' i 

.'I don t.see why we should, papa ! Ar6 the other gods ^ 

pS bad as this one, and if we " 

^'A penetrating look shot from my father's gray-blue 
ey^s into my own and struck down into my heart and 
^^Vibrated the whole bunch of my nerves. My little limbs 
|shook as if I had received an electric shock which vibrated v, 
;^my wiioly body^played havoc with my whole being for -^ 
jsome time, then ended in my boots and there vibrated for "^ 
K a littleTwhde intone of my little toes which ivas ^peepine: 
r^ Out- a little;' ^^■^■'V .:. -^i- .^,T- ■ ' 

Silently he'handed me the book; then he wheeled ^oVr 
-t^v^card mother and her spinning-wheel and administered ' 
.on lier.^I thmk, the same electric stroke. '- '^ - 

* ,^ ■f^w.moredai's.passed and! heard with horror ih(^ 



/ 



^0^ 



^IThkCGod 4s"-:^^ particular -^ He ;WantS"^ 
id j£ w^,ar6 inot ;he simply burns tis = upf' .May I tell yoUj; 
/ - the^Third Q>mttiatidmen^ I like that better, andity 

^ says thattve shall honor Sunday » the hol^ day,' and I love^ 
,t to follow mother to Tanums Kyrka on Sunday and listen.-:^ 
v to' the black-dressed man who stands up there and taJkSj * 
; and talks/ and talks, and talks until all the people in the _ 
^church sink down on the floor and groan, until that otlier r'Lt^ 
man comes along with a long stick in his hand and push in l'^^ 
, ; among them for payment* • Then we take our dinner; by 
the sea— i Mouke kyrkan — ^and you tell mother about the ^V; 
Catholic priests who hid themselves there in dread of . 
Martin Luther, and about Victor Hugo and Bulwer Lytrj 
ton and all these wonderful men ; and then whqi you start' 
in to disagree about Eugene Aram and Walter Scott, and pf^ 
; papa has one of Dickens^ novels, in his pocket, and .you r^^ ^ 
V kissed and made up agaiti, and papa starts in to read andy y.||l 
mamma laughs and cries alternately; then I am. so very; ^^^^ 
happy because I am^allowed to run down to the seajmd'v 7^^^^ 
^ ■ to:my heart's content watch tfie wonderful, majesUcfWl;tiSf ?^ 
lows follow each other in quick succession right to where|^' "J^ 
I am; When they see me run away ^they. moan M<|lgroat^ 
; ;' like the people in the church. \ They would like W'folIqvr!:^3^ 
.1 me biit the hard, stony rocks prevent tliem, and o^i 'oJ^:^ iS? 
w anger tfiey strike themselfs against the ^aiiite /mountains,'^: v^^^^^^^^^^ 
. shattering.themselfs to death, then vahishrr*and«then*yott i y ;; ; 
call me to pick wood for tpboil the coffee; .then, then-^t^^^v 
When will ' brothef .Axel be .to home: fi;om^ siAool,.^^^^^^^ 

:j ..^Fierde Budet, AAzVC/^-^S.:-. • • -^;;^^\:^^ tl^y^;;.'-^" -^^ 
:; r^ shall jionorAebothofyou^ 



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"Hwaiaf\deirU^\:^^% 



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>. 



- rv''*To jump oh your lap and kiss,dnd hug you, papa.!* , v 
;\;; V(''Npt^ at ;all Jr:>Pa)r attention l;if Stand.1)efore me. ':^o\i^^ 

V are to rehearse your lessons and ariswef jrhe the way the\^^ 
;. are .written; -and obey: me^jl^If -not-^js,ra1^^ t^ch > 

^ ■' I ''could not, and::I. must Hsa^^at one crjuel blow from ; 
0; my father^^s'fattaii oti my'littleifinger^^ I became :^ 

: ^hysterical," laid sickj fof^s&tn^timer'and my brother Axel 




-•*:■* 



i 








J^-<^^<^,i%'^'jttlL, . ,ifiui 




n 



■/"^r: 



St- 






Jthe biography^ oe" a 

^ ^carrie*^ home^^f^rjhis'^ vaSittonf^f I.-foiind that^ L Joved :niy 
'^big, tall hai^dSpme brother Axel very much and j was near 
him. wh^n I>could be. In the eyenings when father rested 
' alter his long walk from the schoolhouse and daily school 
■"^ dtities, we three; mother^ brother and I, would take long 
'ran^bles in the moonlit evenings in some romantic chasm, 
, We woiild settle and sit and talk until late in the night, 
' brother played a musical instrument and had learned to 
smgj'*''Edite beditejcollegeattus^ Psalmetta seculla poculla ^\ 
'^. nulTa/^ then interrupting himself , he called out; "Ah, .'^^ 
^ mother;^ if I only had that book so as I could learn the ^~ ' ^ 
^i^Greek language," ■ -.t ■ ,^ ,. ;, :, 

^^^^'H'Give' Axel my -book; mother/^ I consoled,- "I cannot 

'learri' the Commandments/' I had not seen the catechism, ^^ 
:. lately! but I was afraid^ afraid it was' still in existence^ .. 
- " >v ^ wa^ permitted to my brother*s private study. There , ' 
■"were books in plenty,.; I fingered them, of course, and ' 
fv'wbndered'how he could learn so many big books when I _ ♦ 
fVould learn norie.^^ A small book interested me very much 
'^on' account of the pictures therein* My mothers voice 
called me. I put the book in my pocket and ran off ito^ , ' 
.^answer her summons, -^ / - ' . -^ -r > .>i .^i \nix m )K,. ^ 
;/*Let the girl go to play with the other children/' my'^ 7' 
*^ brother called out when he saw me, **ChiIdren'must play„ /i 
.-, She has plenty of time to learn yet, and if she don't learn ..\ 
she is better off, ' Go, Ada; I wish I had never^seen a ,^^l 
; 'book— out and play, Ada! Oh, mother, if lonly had that 
( book, I cannot learn the Greek language/'. , ^uh ->fn 
>/ I ran off to a little cave in a gloomy-lookingvfQck 
^'nearby. There I sank down in a comer and started to 
;: find out all about that fascinating picture in the book 
^. which I took from my brother's room and put in iny 
I>ocket, It was a male and female, both squeezed in each 
"jther's arms, "They are cold/M thought They fasci-^ 
^ated" me strangely. They looked extremely sorrowful, 5 
li^fwas * Adam and Eve, driven i from Paradisep K.aa """rH, 
xtractibri;- r'-.r- ■ .r :;:\>^^l .-^^ ^-^-^ a.. \^iW-:.L^.:-.^,^ ;s-^f' 

Jl^iinished the book and ran to home, i Horror I -':^ Had I ^rfs* 
been absent ; so long ? Tey^ there stood v father ;^ in ; ithe y*' '^2 '. 
itchen'*;;dodrfi but no ^fair necessaiyl - My brother was %'f: ^ 
IhereV also they were deep in discussion over the ^Bible and , ?:^V« ^ 
pVejent||anguagejf, - I jprept^between^^my ^brother's> long^^ j:' j 



';-/■''<- 



'i 






wc^iveniHd^' the: table>^Mdther^mutTibied ^tlie prayer 
V\ father and brother/ were' stiU discussingthe^GreeLv 
^'^.rtifv . Lcrept lirider the table,^ as was customary t>vheiifatlier '5 
.. :>\ ieyes began to change color as they idid now.>j ,., ' ;v^v^' 
<;^;:.^r^^f* You shall honor your father, the Book' says, ^^c ^ 
v>;; ; daren't interrupt, father, but-^but brother, I don't know— 
; V > Axel/'lcalled out, "you are wrong about the Bible* Shall _ 
/^;' il? correct you?" "Yes/' he replied simply, and took me 
'^.^ .into his arms absentmindedly, and the small book I had 
>^'^ .-read, in* the afternoon in the cave in the gloomy rock was 
ratded up in a hurry. ^ ^ 

*^^ ?iC' ;'"God take mercy on our sorrowful bones," my father 
;AcalMiout. V "The brain is there. The.girl has brains, 
and you, my son, shall teach her; I cannot ' 
> "Following morning I was. with reverence sent to 
brother's study. He was sitting at the table. On the 
t table laid the Lutheran Catechism— 'and the rattan. I saw 
a shadow at the window. "The Fourth Commandment !'* 
I screainfed in terror. "Axel, I cannot learn that book, 
and they will bum me in hell if I don't.*' 

The rattan disappeared and soothingly Axel said: 
, "Would you do something for me, Ada, if I ask you?" 
"Anything you ask," I said, and sat down at the table 
squinting. ' ^ : v . * ,* 

^ ' . - "Well, then, will you tell me the first Commandment?" 
:• "Certainly. , You shall have only me^ love and, cherish, 
me, otherwise I'll bum you up! On Stmday goto church 
'--and mamma says it won't take you long before you stand 
'.'Up there and preach yourself. Axel, because. you learned 
^ the Catechismin no time. Then^yes,^ then comes, the 
vi Fourth, we shall honor father and, mpAer,;Axe|,.^ I /^ '^/^ 
>r hate papa* ^ He stmck m e [ ' ' ' i * iv ^r v/ +7 '^ r-^H;^');^ * 
V ^Heaven and helll There stood fathef in the opeti^wftn-^ 
dow; vHadhe heard me? ^t Yes, and no^mottier or brother 
could help me. The rattan .was tlsed.. My brother was 
not strong enough to break the door atid fly for assistance. 
;. My mother fainted, .aiid I .jamjfaintitig^^myseif when I 
». think of it, well Is: <' {* cy«/ > v v i V ; , ., 

"Where is Axel,* mamma?" I questioned wnen I opened 
! my eyes, ''and why am I lying in this room ? Have I been , 

:,'Sick?";.^-V' .' . ' ^-V -<.'. } t.\. .^ /^\ [.. ^ 



^^./^ 



nihk 




fyBaj3tO<*HAraT;,toF 'A^; 



Cda, gone, stnd no letters, .Yes; you have been , 
ickjor a long time,;. Father was too quick for brother. ' 
brother spirted in father's face and slowly walked out oi 
'^^ the door, and never, never will he return. Yes, yes, yes, 
1 I say I know where he is, I shall send for him. Sleep 
-^>hild, you are still sick* Mamma will send to find him." 
Years elapsed, I was now a girl of fourteen and had 
passed my confirmation, through father's assistance, I 
presume. The New Testament, the book of honor, was 
also presented to me, and there I stood reading a letter 
from brother. We h^d received letters lately — mother had, 
but father should not know. Money he wanted — money 
■'- from mother to buy books for. 

- :'T have," he said in his last letter, "I have at last found 

- out where I can get that book. It is to be sold on an 

'/auction, no one knows its great value, Qh, mother, try 

; to send me some money," ; ; . - 

;v/ 'We starved ourselves and scraped together and sent 

^ him -some, but never received any satisfactory replies, 

v Emile Zola and Nana was, mingled with money and 

■v^ books. The Greek language was not mentioned, .Still, 

"mother had hopes and so had I. ,: ir . ..' , %- - 

VVW go out in the evening and sell candy to the farmers 

^wiien they come to town for their fish and Prandwin," I, 

' said to mother, . ■ . \ \ ^ , i- ,. . 

We lived now in a 'fisher village and father. came to 

home on Saturdays only and seldom sppke to. any one, 

.**Father won't know and Axel must have money to buy 

books for/' I did and made out very nicely the first week^ 

but the second I was, strange enough, two kroner behind 

in my accounts, and the baker lady, who thought, of 

course, that I had eaten the stuff, threatened to report to 

father if I did not make good immediately,, ; Report to 

father! I thought, "anything but that,"; Jt was Satttr- 

'day night, and father was expected to , home ■, at -^ny, 

minute, ; A :sudden thought struck mpv VI ran to ':Mri 

Lundid, a prosperous tailor, opposite. our house, and.bor^ 

L'^:/ rowed the two kroner on my father's name,, hopingi of 

■,,;'|" course, by gaining time I could repay it before he would 

^^r^-i find ^tit.i'T';.^ ^^,U' J : '.:.='■* ii.- ^.^.^■..•. .^< )' > i^-. r.:^..jL.i ;. 

The iady .was paid! I was promised .that business' could 

continue; and there^I stood before the window in our front 












V' .> 



;room seeing; ffather'^l^^rba^^^^ horrof^ral^^?^^ 

^sawlRfi^'iLlindM^^^^^ of his hbuse>j -'-M 

t They^iK>th met, stopped and shook hands, talked for sortie \^:u1 

/minutes/ then' my father gave a start; and his cane fell. 'VJ 

from, his hand. He stooped to pick it up» He cast a: ■ J 

. quick glance over to pur window and saw me standing >t^y 
tiiere watching them. > :i^ 

"Escape him I'M thought, "before he flays you/^ I ,fle^;|^^ 
through the rooms, not heeding my mother's call, I cut • : : 
over the flower-beds in the back garden, rushed through^:^- 
.some gooseberry bushes^hot feeling the thorns, over- at 
rocky height, on through a narrow winding lane j crept! ;■ 
under a warehouse and came to a boat landing; I loosened n I 
one of the many rowbpats, laid out the bars and i?owed ; *' ^ 
with all my might until I fell to thejbottom of the boat in^r v • 
a collapse.' After some time I came to myself and fcmndj^'^t- .§» 
my boat and myself floating among "Skju:en,'*fi;'a ruri-^fe -^^^ 
awa)r, a criminal, hungr)r, homeless, hatless, and extrer^ely^f >• ^* 
thirsty. * What next? I thought, and feU asleep; on ^ the Vvg 

'■ Jbottom of 'my boat. _ '- ^'' ' '-(:)■' / '-^^ >'^M.^:\ . ;■; ^. ^ . ^^ ^r • ^^rj^^'0^, 
When awakened, which was early the following mom-»i:^;*J^ 
ing; I rowed hence and landed at oneiof the many fishing;' |^^ 
huts. 'I asked for a drink of water, begged ^ a pik;e of f^:^ 
bread and borrowed a "duk'^ to tie over my h^adj^ and so I^ '3I!| 
>yent on until I came to Lysekil, a pretty bathing resort. >^ *- "^ 
There I landed and left the boat and sneaked through the i; 
village and hid in a rock, and there/ in another beautifuli ' 

5 picturesque chasm 1 sat and meditated how 'I ciould hidet 
myself on the steamer which I knew landed there/ and ^ 
would,Uf " 1 succeeded^' take hie" tojCtotehbofg^^tot hiy^^ ' 
^ brother 'Axel and.his }xyo\^i'^!^:lf^^-^^^ypl'^^^^^^^ 

^ Looking' before me I '» saw a farmer , wagon 'arrivingi *V 
"Will I?^l thought;' '^yes/l^thinkil;will.^^^ farm^4 i 

'had to pass near where I was sittmgi^Tf'^High there I'M fr 
called out '"Ertema dryfer ur seckens T't'The farmer Ipok-^'V^ , i... 
ed over to me, then he 'Stopped and ^climbed off and kawf 
right'* enough his ^green peas ^ dript)ing out of his sack;r 
There was a hole iti the ^ack; ■ ^ > i ^nii ;,: I r ' "^ 

I took a hair pin from my hair and aijproached. "Far t [ 
jag lofaatt hora mig till bi^fgansai^kall jag sfelpa Herri?'* > 

: I asked, '^ and, ' awaitirigf his * repLy^^ll with the hairpin > 






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tfHv*fi5!if ^I^P — 




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RtraiMBIOaRAPHT 0^5 



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"S togeth^r^the hqle in thesack and got the farmer in ,. . 
S^(:' a contented niood^'^iil-.{>*K'/:vj? -.ijir ^>iK^*fb. ^::u7*^*i>i>HU?uV^4*f i': ^ 
J^^iV'Tack skall jungfrati, ha and sik war so good.?'l,;}t r n ^ ; K , 
■.■ftj. I climbed onto the wagon and y^e rattled down to the -'v • 
' boat landing aind, as I was taken for the farmer's daugh- . ; , 
: t^r^ no one paid attention to me, and I flim-flammed myself 
, pn the steamer and hid among the crop, and the steamer, 
: the crop, myself and lots of other things landed some time . 
{.^aftenvard all right enough at Gdtenborg. Stiff, sore and 
^hungry,!, stood before my brother Axel's given address > 
^^ and,* with a poufiding heart, I ran^ the doorbell, f I ; 

■* "Fluftat sin wag,' some one said, opened the door and ■'■;■■ 
\, slammed it to again. I was fast growing bold now. I ^ 
i : rang the bell again, thie door was re-opened and I' clung to 
; - >the knob, . "When, why and where to? I am his sister 
'-J. and coming from a distance.. I must see him. I am hun- 
^ gry and tired and a strange- — " 

oj^y '*Flyttat, flyttat, flyttat, flyttat." i. / 

" "What next?" thought I.' At the Elementary Leroverk, 

4 where my brother was supposed to study, I was informed 

^:^<that he had di$continued his studies a long time ago and 

none of the students knew his whereabouts. There I 

^. stood, and I tell you the good, honest truth I was crying 

r r:now,.., ; ; . -. .;•,.; .^ .■ .-« ■■ • ■ •.• ' . • • ■• 

''What are you crying about?" A. policeman ac- 
rjcostedme* 

.."For nothing at all," I said, and thinking of father and 
^. his rattan, I instinctively walked hence and holding the 
fi>S "duk" before my face as if I had a severe toothache, I 
^ ' slowly tramped ahead and let the tears flow to my heart's 
.) -content -••.: - <r' ■■ • //i-^«- ' ?-i^ r.' ■:.■.', ■ ' 

':: . ^Ey resting now and then and picking a piece of cold . 
- potato. or bread from the garbage I was now away out , 
of town and had arrived at some bushwood. -^'Ah-h-^ere 
1 will be my grave,'' I thought,'«^'and God take mercy on 
>r my: sorrowful bdnes," as my father, used to say when he 

was happy, jHere shall my sorrowful bones niould away, / 

^^r. and L vanished among the scrubwood, sank down and said • 

' ,, my prayersi'^..i)v->i: ■^■■s .--r; -. -y^ ' .-w: ;. . ,..j.:....:.^ .j: „^-*; 

' ^*'God morgenijungfrau, lilla har junfrensavet-got ?'•'-. ^ 

,. W 1 lookedubeforeoine where the^voice came from-^he •; / 

fM: Jheadmf la jhuman;being, or what is it ? > t :^ - vv;>«> t^^at^^l^ 





NEW TORK ■ nOTEli ^SCEITB 

*^ Good morning/' I 'hurriedly answered It) ;a^ head of a 

^. human being sticking up among the bush wood. Then I 
mumbled my morning prayer, watching keenly -the with-^j 

^ ered ^ head, including body, slowly creeping out of the ' 
bushes and slowly advancing toward me/ ■ '^ ?■ i :{ 

" A stick was on his shoulder, and after watching m^ a ..i 
few moments, he removed the stick with the bundle, ■ A 
placed it on the ground before me, then h^ took from his ; j 

v pocket a large clasp-knife, opened it, and there he stood . 

* watching me in deep meditation. He drew the finger over 
the knife. "Mother!" I screamed, *'God take mercy on 

. my sorrowful bones I" I think he said : - ; 

"I won't harm you. 'I am only a poor wanderer like ' 
yourself. With this knife Fir cut some wood and we'll 
have some cbffee. In the bundle is coffee, bread, chefese 
and curbock kakaf, stackens lilla ilickai Don't cry. Look 
up there. There up there is my Hildegarde— Hildegarde ! 
After Hildegarde left me I cared no hiore, and lamv 

. happy with my life." 

We spent the morning in eating* and talking and tr)ring 
to console each other. "There lies a steamer with Skipp- 
bron," he said. "On that steamer is an agent who hires 

, help for the farmers in Germany. Go and inquire there, 
and if you are not accepted come back here and Jag skall ' 

' tiggrarbrod for er, until you find a position." 

I saw the a^ent, was accepted and after some time we > 
arrived at Lyberk in Germany. A moving wagon was ,_,^ 
awaiting us. We drove through the city and arrived at a ' j^ 

: cottage where there was a lot of farmers waiting f of lis. . 'S 
One of them wanted pooi* me^ I could not learn the Gate- '-/^ 
chismj but I had ^earned to speak German and toy em- 

' . ployer explained to me that I was by him hired for one 

; year, and was to receive as wages for my work one; home- j 
spun woollen skirt, and ditto vest, a pair of leather shoes,' 
and a* pair of wooden onies, the ivool' for two pairs of 

; stockings, linen yarn to weave myself two shifts of linen '^ 
and fifteen kronen in cash^ ; '»' . . , ♦ , ■ ^ 

:- "Bully. for you," I said> and climbed, with the farmer's , i 
assistance, on the wagon^and we went off at high speed. •; 'H 
But some one yelled behind us to stop and return to the ■/ ^ 
•cottage, as we had iorgotten 'something' that was abso- 
lutely necessary that We^sbould hqtiotget, and the fiarmer ' 



...^« 



/^returned with me and his wa^n. .A tall, gaunt female;,^;^ 

!: stood ii\ the front entrance of tihe cottage, She winked us . 

!!i inside into the house and out into a large kitchen, where ; , 

5^; there was a table set, and good-smelling food tempted my ' ; 

u nostrils, "Ah," I, thought, "I wish I could sit down 

rand "'• ... " ... . '-[ ■".." ...■..;•,:; 

"The dian has kin eden pad,'sitt ye man dall min lotje 
dian and aid man tow." : 

"Plattdeutch, wahrcheinlich unt sa mint mich, Danke! 
Fes tens, zehr gearte da me," I said, and caught a hold of 
the large snow-white wooden spoon swung over the 
bench, and started in to fill up from the plain but well^ . 
> tasting food* . , • 

p_ The farmer paid little attention to the table. He, the 
agent and the tall, gaunt female were arguiqg in Piatt- 
deutch about me. The agent seemingly wanted to keep 
nie where I was, as an assistant to the tall, gaunt female, 
who was his wife, but she objected. I was too plump for 
my age, I think she said, and my eyes were too large and - 
changed color, and that she said was a very bad sign. I , . 
(': :^ waff satisfied when my farmer haled me from the table, and ; 
iout to his wagon, and again we set off and arrived late at ^ 
night at a castle-looking building. We drove to th^ back 
. entrance. We climbed off the wagon. The farmer rattled . 
r^^on a door with great . vigor.and called out, "Trinea, 
■■ Trinea!" a few timte and then went off and let me, §tan<ti y 
in the dark watching the large trees surrounding the cas-,,;'. 
^ ttci which bowed and bowed to poor me as : if I had, been i;^ 
^a very great personality. .,,. .,. ^ .. ? . .. .r ; .. ,^^\:\'^' \ 
'i^' Some one opened a door and fumbled: for, me Jn. the.. ^• 
dark, I got hold of a woman's skirt, and theownef of l,^^ -, 
that skirt was Trinea, We both entered a dark hall and>^\: ;^ 
/into a room where there was a small light lit. In the room^^j ri?, 
^^^trt two beds, tw6 young girls fast asleep in. one of the.;-r ■>' *?, 
beds and Trinea and myself took possession of the other ,, -'^^ 
and we started in to converse. .1 could not very well un- -^ 
derstand her language and she not mine, but I understood >i 

at; last that I was in Schloss Kaltenhoff, by Dassow ^'- 
Mecklenburg-Swerin, and that I was expected to rise at . 
fouF in the morning and milk)cows. . .^. 

;^'v^ I w^: not successful In milking cows.; They did not, . 
like mv han^ilino' them, atld looked at me bit mp -^^n^h "^ 



r %^ V: : .: ^ KEW TORK^ HOTEL "^SOBUBa 

t) 1 e i r d i r ty : stvanges . ^ continu all y / an d ^ a f t^r . a coiipl 
weeks df torture in the line of milking cows; I, witHi great] 
diplomacy, received a little tnoney in advance and set out>^: 
for Dessau J and there I bought a fourth-class ticket back -■ 
to Lyback; Arrived in Lyback, I went into a bakery and- :>i™ 
inquired for a position, "Down stairs," the baker lady >i>.;# 
said, I went down and was accepted there, and then as a' , ' 
vendor in vegetables. After a week, I again received a... 
little money, as I had to look tidy in the store, I needed a 
couple of aprons, I set out to buy the aprons, but instead 4 
of the aprofts I bought a fourth-class ticket to Hamburgh -^ 
and there I stood on the Jungfrau Stig and looked down - ; 
deep in the Allster — a few tears fell into the deep water, : * 
"How IS mamma ?" I thought. ■ f; 

Hamburg is Hamburg, like New York is New Yorki>*f'^*? 
Not long and I saw an intelligence office. I entered:, -' ^ 
'*Yes/' the young girl said, "There is a position open by: ;:; k 
a hair-dresser/* I received the address of the hair-dress* ,7 * T:^ 
ing establishment, and went there, and saw the proprie- : ; ?^>^ 
tress of the place. "Yes; I make full switches from the -^ v^ 
combed off hair for the servant girls and others," she siid.., <^v:;'4^ 
"Will you accept the position?^ >^ v ^ 

"Yes," I said, and stayed tliere three months. j:*. 

One evening I was sitting alone and combing hair; for^j >^ 
e I was singing, trying to imitate mother's voice, - 



pastime I was singing, trying 

which was easy to do, because I was also crying to beat 
the band. Some one spoke in the other room. I stopped . 
and listened. After some time I heard some one saying : 

"Das maischen singt wunderbar. Un St. Pauly kqnte i, :^' 
see schones deld fordinen. Nicht wahr du?" "Yes/^ thfe ^ ^ 
other voice said. My heart jumped and I jumped, as the..? X 
boss of the place arrived. It was her two brothers who: i/^V-: 
had spoken. I yelled and sang by every opportunity after t;' 5 
that until it became un^duraple for the proprietress^ >vhQ ;; r-| 
upbraidedme*. ".•'■''■'■••'■•: ''' ''■" :• j';-?^-- •:''^^-"N^: "r ;vr,^ 
, "Please hand what I have earned," I said. "I will not :^^ ,'> 
• stay where I cannot sing.'* ^ •-; vr ; ^^ • : 

She did and I padced my rtrunk— no, I didn't. I 
wrapped my $econd shift in a newspaper, placed it under / 
my arm and said good-by with a. high "Hawl L. lulua," v 
and there I stood on the street in' front of a baker shop 
and candy store* "I think I will invest the little money I : 









ti^- 




^m 



i earned at the hair^-dressing establishment in the cake and 
^r^ candy .business," I tthought, when a voice behind me said: 
i*'God aton;:Froken lilla; ska|l dat wara en copp caffee, 
j^derrimc kenhend*^?'* . . ;. , / . " • 

P:r%fAA long/ tali Swedish-looking sailor man stood. beside 
^*"^ me, **Tackar so mockett," I said with a graceful bow. 
^^^ .We went in and sat down at one of the tables and coffee* 
>^mas: brought; us, .{-Mitt namm ar Peterson,'* the sailor 
1^: introduced himself. ;r "I went ashore for some amusement 
frr' this evening; c Would you like to pome witii me to St 

'.v^jt*"God take niercy on my sorrowful bones/ my fatjiier 

, reused to say when he was happy. St. Pauly! Most de- 

cidedlyy sir," I sai(| and; jumped up with a Jerk. The 

sailor settled for the immense coffee and cake-I had con- 

' sumed. ^ We went out ^nd boarded the car which passed 

^and drove to St, Pauly. . ; ^^, - ^ t . 

::rf^ St Pauly is >a::p!ace of apiiisement , We went into, a 

J-^v cbricert garden and; sat dpwn.^A yo^ng girl came to wait 

; 1 on^iis. **Carnegie porter/*; the^^sailor^ said; >/ The; girl 

=■ n brought it and pat'down beside us ready for our; sec^ 

;^jnDrder; ; One \ bottle settled jnyi. modesty, • and I .and my 

i v^ sailor friend joined in the, chorus.,,. The people applauded. 

V i^^They i were men onlyii^nd.an/elderly, nice-looking Jiidy 

: ^Icame over to us and sat dowa>hd introduced herself , as 

?ik**Old Mother Groan,'* the proprietress of the place, asking 

: £t3 me if J belonged to the profession, ^d I guessed what she 

meant. r I said: "Yes, zehr hockgeahrte frau." ^ J,, - 
. ; ^J^ii Where had I apjpeared? ; .: ■ : . . i ^ \ i-/^ r.:' / 
. irnAt Stockholm Royalty Theater, Walhalla in,/6er)in, 
Student Society at Heidelberg, .Weisbaden, Baden-baden, 
^: Bonn; Bingen, Coblentz and Cologne on the , Rhine, 
gpvonchen se feligh, the Lorely sa haren nieine dame?,« | 
jjhiJ 1' Yes, to-morrow night," She squited at my newspaper 
^bundle in my lap. , Then she said : **Will you sing .here 
)in tuylplace, $20 a month and board?. -I need .another . 
"singer immediately,;. You can come up to the room right 
. novv^^-t.Will you accept ?" ; t., . ... ^vt^wx^, ' ,;.; 

I^Tji AgainI §tood up with a jerk, and forgetting my sailor 
1 friend, bwhg had helped me to all this good luck, i iol-1 
lowed the lady upstairs. - i*,/ .-»,..'.'.: . . ircy^i^iv; ""^ 

A nionthlsoon passed hence^ f^nd very pleasant. indeed, i 



A^^i*. 




; f^^ ;'^jrcccivfed niyfii^l month's salarj^; that Is^a writtefi^abibunl 

^^ '> of hiy'stage firiet^y ^ndp there;- what was' that F^^r^ie^^ca!^ 

.' , moniey also. I grasped the cash and ran off to'the p6st*f 

office, my heart beating with wild joy when-I. scribblq<l!^ 

•the words:'. '^V ' '''■!■■■:■' ■- ■^."' --'l'" v^i^f^' '"" 

"DARLiNd Father : Inclosing yoii will find the amount i"^ 
of nioney I borrowed on your name. Good-by, most be^:-;^ 
loved father and friends • Ada is dead, and you,- father, ;.^ 
has killed your child/' , n 'r vf f 



, ' ./ •■ '";^- . CHAPTER II.-,; •> ■.>'>::<■ .;,:,^ 

''■-\ ''••'"'• ''AMSTERDAM ■ '^ *- . ■''•."",./•''" 

Revenge is sweet indeed. I felt almost happy. "Ah/*^|^ 
^ I thought, "his rattan cannot reach me here, which it cJ! 
would if he knew Uiat I was not dead at all. / Why> I ^ 
would not dream of dying now, now when I have become 1^3 
a great singer^ ' Yes, I am now way up in life/ Just thinW^^^^ 
if father could see me sitting on that stage, where I nowi^l^ 
sit every night — if he could see all this, v Well-dressed^ 
men with funeral hats on their heads coming into the;^|| 
place every night. ; How gracefully they raise that ^black"^^ 
silk hat toward me and the other ladies ibefore ihey take ^^v^ 
a seat! My! and then the bottles come— rchampagne/ © 
mind you, father. I wonder if fathcif 6ver tasted cham-X|^ 
pagne; No, no, he didn^t And then the basket of fruit ;^^ 
comes along* Ah, what lovely oranges ^^nd figs and htit^3^ 
and candy — and — the flower than cbmes inland, mind you^vl^ 
father, he stands right in front of me; with one eye on me :^ 
and the othir on ffie gentlemen, and how the little boUr^ 
quets'^fly up in my lap! 'The lady, iMother Groaned is|^ 
goirig'tojiave programmes printed and distribute them|^ 



' through St; Pauly and pack the place, she says.^I«willv^^ 
send one of them programmes to my father— no — ^ain^t t ;Yil« 
.dead? That wouldn't do, to come to life again so (}uickly ;!^ 

' as all that — let papa bleed for a while. I remember that f 
rattlan. It hurts me yet! ' :; v-^ 

- ; ^ The gentleman who stated in the slip of paper which' J 







'^^f^'}^ ■^'^f f;>;^K ir:;. i.y. *^=^^r^^?Jr:^iiv^^tii^ 



i;: JVTHE BloaRAPHT OP A > . , , 

^f was tucked among the roses in that bouquet He throwed , 
:: to me, with many kisses, that he wished to make me his 
) own for life. Oh, if I could only show papa that little 
"billet I How sorrowfully he would ask my forgiveness, 
.^having a daughter who can marry a man who wears a 
^«^ silk hat and can pay two dollars for a bottle of cham- 
f'pagne. Of course, if I marry this gentleman who has 

f^Ten in love with me and wishes to make me ''his own 

fo^ life," I will become rich and I can travel, travel all 
ijr over the beautiful world and see, myself, all the wonderful ^ 
^V things I have read about, but we will go to Sweden first. 
J, I want to make good for the boat I borrowed, and the 
V ■ 'duk" I lent from the poor woman in the fisher hovel and 

the piece of bread she gave me. Ah, I'll pay her good, 
l^^good! She shall live in a castle. I'll build her a castle 
r^ instead of a hovel. A little island will. I select where 
^' this magnificent castle shall stand and where it can be seen 
5: from far distant. ^ Then, when my husband and I return 

from our long travels we'll land there at that rock in a 
'little fisher-boat — fisher-boat? Ill notify the people 
.whose boat I was compelled to borrow that I wish to buy 

that boat, immediately, and I am going to pay for it. In 
: that boat my husband shall row me to our castle, in that 

boat I shall land and welcome that poor, old, crippled 

fisher woman who gave poor unhappy Ada her last crust 

of. bread. What name shall I have put on that castle? 

Ah, ril call it after mamma, mamma. God to heavenly 

God and father, have mercy on my exceedingly sorrowful 
: bones, as father used to say when he was very happy* 

How, oh, how could I have forgotten mother? Oh,. ; 
.'mamma; yes, father was right. I am wicked, wicked. I 

forgot mother because I have become rich and powerful, 
ii How can 1 atone ii* I have no money and Axel wants 
■; money from mother to buy books fdr, I cannot ask the 

gentleman for money before J have becoAie his wife, I'll 
;.^ tell him to hurry up, though, -There are samany things 
■fto attend to and it all takes money,: I'll hurry to'* home, 
'" and get paper and ink^from Mother Groane, and then 111 ' 

sit dowiV and write a long letter to mpthier and tell her al} ' 
'"'\ about it- and then?-. - Yes, theiiJJ'll, have some crying for * 
A-^ long time, because I jmi sqyi^ry^^^^ happy. . ^ .; 

^4; , FQiiQ^ing evening I was* ag^Lin'^sitting'in the middle of 




Ih^ stage, :the place of hbnor^;^ My white tulle'dfess* cov-r v:; 
\ered with flounces, and the trkil of the dress re?iching near 
the foot lights— no, there \vere no footlights, but should 
have been; my beautiful blonde hair covered my neck and 
shoulders. One shoulder peeped out a little, because the 
stagemanageri^ which was Old Mother Groane herselC 
said it was exceedingly pretty. A, string of large iniita- ^ 
tion pearls rested on my bosom and arms. A large fatii :'^ \.: 
manufactured from pink satin and chicken feathers, t 
hold in both hands, and squinting over to the other ladies^ /. U 
I tried to imitate their graceful movements with fan, head . .' 
arms and eyes, and just think of it, the v,ery first man who , , , ; 
entered the place was the gentleman with the funeral hat^r^ 
and gloves in his hand. He bowed arid he sat down bci-^ 
fore me and whisperied to the waiter girl that the perform- ** ^^ 
ance could begin in the line of a three-dollar bottle, and . jK 
the piano player, who looked at his watch, tinkled his bell,^ , - ^f^ 
after hiastily swallowing a glass from the three-dollar hot-*-, ,; :^^<"x^ 
tie, played the introduction of my sweetest Swedish folk:./j^ /^ ;:- 
song, and poor me stood in front of my affinity and war*r t' r-^V 
bled to him every bit of happiness and joy which was tcM.^ , -.S:; 
bless him after I had become his wife. The man with the %, : 3. 
funeral hat winked at the waitress, and there she stood /- \ 
before me and placed another three-dollar bottle. Ppi>- ^- :^ 
said the cork and then Mother Groane's youngest daugh— - . 
ter appeared on the scene for the first time and handed me^ _l 
with the sweetest of smiles and winks, an immense bou— / 
quet of the reddest of roses. I approached to the frontt 
6i tiie stage and swinging my beflounced train, hitting;^ 
over the glasses, I blushingly received the bouquet from , '.< 
her hand, and sitting down and smelling the beautiful * ; 
flowers, saw a letter tucked in amid the roses — and thorns^ ' "] 
Blushingly I left the stage to read my first love letter^ ; - ^„ 
My future husband belonged to a large? firm in Amster- 
dam, Holland. He belonged to a diamond concern there 
and had for me in readiness a diamond without surpass^ 
which would be mine and would be placed, on one of my" r ^ 
little fingers if I would promise that I would be his own-— , 
yes, his highest desire in this. world w,as to make- me hi& 
own for; life* * He was tfie possessor of immense wealthy ; 
and since he had.seen me^aad hdard my lypnderful "HawK.l 



■> 



^^m.'^^m^rmw^ts^ 



.-^'-x 



p^jl-;' ''m' ■■ ■■■ >' ; ''^ 'J ■ -' ■ ■'■'*. ■•■•/■.'■ '■■■■■ .-•'•• : ' •.'■■:'^''-' ■•• 

^ '^ ^ ' ■' ^ ■■ "T^;- ; ' ■ ■ ■; • • ' - :■ ■ . ■ '■• 

18 , Tr V '. IT THE piOQRAPHY OF A 

Lula " by Mother Cran, had no other desire thaq to make 
me his own for life — yes, forever ^nd ^ver, amen. 

''I am without near relations, but of course we have to 
Appear in society, and searching for trouble they may try 
to find flaws in your educ^ition, pardon me, my little sweet 
darling-. The society I belong to is strict, so I think it is . 
' necessary that you should first appear on the .stage in 
Amsterdam, and there you will, with your beautiful sing- 
ing, prove to my friends who will hear and see you on the 
stage that you are worthy enough for any man, with or 
^vvitifiout education. 

. • "Again pardon me that I took French leave— most 

' pressing business awaits me in Holland, which I can 

neglect no longer, and feeling too tempted to take you 

with me at once, which couldn't be done, he, with many 

.' kisses, bade me good-by. Enclosing you will find a card 

from a good theatrical agent in Hamburg. Go immedi- 

■ ately to see this gentleman. He will attend to matters. 
Don't show this letter to any one, as they would use means 

. to prevent you to leaive Mother Cron— you know the 
Teasph why," . , . ; , . , ,, , ,^ . ^ 

■ * I cannot describe the feeling I emerienced after read- 
ing this letter, Intense joy overwhelmed me, mingled 
with a strange, cloudy foreboding as if there, was an 
abyss before me which I dreaded to fall into, but the glit- 
tering diamond and the wonderful things I .could do. with 

_ this great fortune which belonged to my future husband 
-"' and which would also be mine if I married him, ^fascinated ^ 
me— yes, I thought "I will marry him." 1 said to my- 
self^ **Can he not at once relieye all this misery which 
,^ surrounded them at home?. Poor father, how tired he is 
/ walking miles and miles, and climbing rocks and hills and 
\ 'springing over clefts and rifts, always in great danger of 
'^:^ falling into the stream. And, in ;the;:,winter, , winter? 
^5 \^How cold and frozen he is when,be,^?^fter seyeral hgurs' 
- ; 't ^^ruggle with the elements, j?nee deep in thesnowi and 
^ jiotj sure if he steps on solid groun4 or^no, arrjves at the 
;^^ schpolhouse and has tq sit all day Jong find plaguy himself 

to, slam knwledge into tho9eJititle,4^^ 
; ', ; riot; have^yprjri piucl^ brain on the fwd they, getj from theiri^ \ ^ 
^, poyerty^^riclcen ; paren^s-TT^arid |Jnb^h^^ .brother :and 

..^alU yes,jrU.rnarryj him. *^wt|he^pieke,';^- what wilJ;Sh^ : , 




^ay to this?'^ Shii certainlyWUl not like it;'^Ttiat'caii*t ^ 
helped, though, I thought to myself, and instead of gpiii^l^^l^ 
bide to the staee I went up to my room 'and -laid d6wn> ^ ;^j 
saying I had a headache/ - '.-:'-..■:'' .■r.-\-^--^:'!i:yy' - 

The agent which my future husband recommended was 
an intellectual man. After a. short conversation I signed 
a contract. Three hundred gulden, the contract said, 
"resgeld unt forshu^" to bind the contract.^ I was to 
arrive at my earliest convenience to appear at the Alham- 
bra theater, Amsterdam, Holland. I set off at high 
speed to tell Mrs. Crome about all this. I think she was 
weeping and bemoaning her bad luck. "Who would have 
thought that of that slip of a girl with that newspaper in 
her lap ?'* I heard her say to some one when I entered. 
*'Had I known that stove-pipe hat fellow was after her I ' 
would have had my.best girl after him and we would have 
got every cent out of his pocket;" 

"Don't weep, Mother Olache, darling," I said, with a 
pat on her cheek. "I'll do scmiething for you in return . 
' for your assistance to all this wonderful luck which has 
befallen me so suddenly. I'll start in right away to learn 
the Holland language, and when I can sing in HoUandish 
I'll return to you and sing and draw every Hollander in 
St. Pauly, Hamburg and surrounding places into your 
place, and J'U do all the treating myself — at least I'll be 
the starter. Then you'll take in so much money that you 
won't be in need to sell any more three dollar bottles and 
be afraid of your persons being taken away. That big 
trunk up there in the hall, mother, will you sell me that, 
and how much? It is onlv in the way, you know, going' 
up and down the stairs, and " 

"If I knew you were sure to come back 1 would give it 
to you for nothing as a memory from ine."' ' '■'', ' 

"Yulely, Olache,'* I Hawl L. lulaoed, and ran up stairs 
to pack my liarge theatrical trunk. ' \[ ^■•' • 

On the bottom of the tfunk cam^ first a heap of old 
books I had picked togetheri /.They I intended to send to 
my bro.ther as soon as I knew where he Was. Then came 
my runaway attire 1 had' on 'when* I Was' cruising among 
the Swedish Sharen as a fugitive. ^Thie "duk" I swiped— 
no, I borrowedit^T-was Welltaken care of in a pretty little 
fig twx^by itself. ^^ Then (iime^mypr^^ and 



'h* 



^% 



■K:l- 



•^^^-..- 



..'rz\,^.'^' 



^^^^f^jT^^ ■ i^Wti^^J'^-^^^^^-T^^-^^ ^^-^^ ^- ■•''<:';^v^*^^^<-?^ - r^^viC* 



"v 



t^i ' 



/?^^ 20* 1 ^ IBIB BIOqRAPHY 07 :A. 

■^ ■^■ ^ ,.. . . ^ ^ \ .•.'.' . <' 

i^:j ; my trunk was ready, land was sent to the depot, and I 
^,'^ "' myself was soon ready to start on my journey, and 1 said . .^ ' 
1;'^ good-by to the bundi, including the Olache, gave her 
[^. another pat on the cheek and followed my large, promis- 
ing-looking theatrical trunk, and we both arrived without 
incident or accident at Alhambra Theater in Amsterdam. 
"Gotfordomme !" I was greeted. "You letteks swerlap, 
be ye gekkomme! Ye leife leckertje? How are ye, .^ 
younge janfrau? Shall ye have a litter je? Or do ye take 
absinthe ? And will ye have a butter-ametje when ye wait 
for the dinner?" . 

*' "The notes? Never mind younge jufrau, I play better 
by ear,'* the leader of the orchestra said, and after a little 
rehearsal with the orchestra I was called inside to the 
dining room and sat down among the many other per- 
formers and enjoyed a good, hearty Holland dinner. 
Then I rested until six o'clock, and started in to prepare 
I' to fulfill my engagement, and there I stood, ready to ip- 
^'^ pear when my turn came in the well-mirrored and well- 

rlluminated dressing room, squinting at the other ladies 
dressing, trying to monkey after their movements, goo- r 
goo-eyeing and graceful swinging of their large trains, by 
those who wore train dresses. Most of the performers 
"wore tights. 
:i; A most beautilul, heavenly strain of music came before 

^fA\ y < iny eyes. Before me sat mother, with her spinning wheel 
;and a little girl with a rag doll was playing near her on 
the bare, snow-white, scoured floor. A tall, handsome 
man was sitting in a chair under the ^*tran -lamp" readijig 
'Tip," or was it Oliver Twist, as mother was laughing 
and weeping alternately. - > ' 

;- Forgetting where I was, I set out in hysterical weep- 
ing myself. The director came into the dressing room to 
fe " :see what was the matter that I did not appear when my 
overture wias played. . , ., 

'.^' 'f * •! aim homesick, sir," | said, answering his questionings , 
^ , :ld&k,r "I am homesick, and would prepare to return to • 
l^^i home' at once," -< 

W N- v^'*^^&€i bcjdondert ! Jaunge! janfrau!- Beje^xgech ge- v 
^^:p.'^^'v^e'f^(..^e:vf3xit to go home to.mother.' Hey, tiievtyW-l 
^|^^;^jiiounte'6^ thatthe new singer is so-rGott- ' 

^P?T^^f^rdahih:fe^rfch6ch 1^^^ tfie Aecrgbale^f - r 



m^: 










NB^^TORK^HOTBL SOHUB ^ iil 

^ What has befallen you, younge yiingfrau?. The audience 
is waiting for you. The flower has arrived. The table .j 

is set in the large hall. Your friend with the stove-'pipe 
hat sits in front of the stage. The audience is hissing as _ ^ '^ 
if they would Gottferdamme break down the house, and :^ 
you are sitting here and weep as if your heart would 
break. What has befallen you, Jounge Jungfrau?" 

I felt myself standing on the stage now ; how I had 
come there I don't know, but I stood there in the middle 
of the stage. ^ 

All sorts of variations was played, from the sweetest 
Swedish folk melody dowii to the latest Holland rag-time, 
then it went into Madame Angot for to get some chorus 
going to gain time. 

The leader of the orchestra swinged his baton to give 
the chorus a good start. That reminded me of father and 
his rattan, and I hastily started into a rabble of some-sort 
in a singing voice. 

"We got her !" mumbled the experienced leader. "Lsly 
for her. Get it going!" and slowly and soothingly they 
variated on their instruments, watching the expression oa 
my face, no doubt to see how they could angle me, and 
they had it ! 

Ach wermeiand du sjona du Trerliga land. 
Du trona bland shea ricke strender. 

I was now singing between Heaven and earth ; singing 
, and singing, for God knows how long, and had appeared 
and disappeared from the stage several times, when some 
one from the audience called out, "Hawl L. lulua I Echoes 
from the Swedish mountains we want Leader, echoes 
from the Swedish mountains." 

"Come, save something for another day, sweety; the 

rest of the evening you belong to me, you little grasshop.- 

How I am going to hug, hug you I Give me a kiss ! No ? 

Why not, may I ask? Well, come on, the supper is wait- 

-, infi^us. 

- 'And: you should like to* travel?): Well, I think we 
could take a. little pleasure trip somewhere; to Cologne 
on ,the 'Rhine, for instance ; a trip .down the : Rhine, and 
* see the ? Lorely . ^Ho w " about that, ; darling ? - No ? Npt 



^'^A^ 






1 




i: 









ftHB BIOaRAPHT OF A "^ 

proper? Proper enoug^h. I shall the very, first thing in 
; the morning write to your father, and by him ask for this 
lovely little hand which I now hold in mine. The answer 
of the letter shall be sent to Cologne, and while waiting 
for the letter why should we not amuse ourselves, darl- 
Your father is sure to give his consent, so there 
is nothing to dread whatsoever. Say yes, my little darl- 
ing; say yes. I cannot marry you before,! get your 
father's consent ; it would sure get me into trouble. You 
are all right in my hands, surely. I shall be like a father 
^o you on the journey. No harm will befall you whatso- 
■ever. You are going to be mine for ever and ever, and 
I'll see that you don't slip out of my fingers. Oh, no! 
Ill hold' you fast, well enough — everything will be in 
readiness, and as soon as the letter arrives we will be mar- 
ried, and Cologne is just the right place for such mat- 
ters. Your wardrobe has to be looked after— that will 
iake some time — do not hesitate, honeysuckle. Will you . 
be mine or not? Yes or no? Yes fall right, sweety; 
kiss me. No? Well, then, later on; waiter, another, 
"bottle. Keep the glasses filled ; don't stare on my little 
sweety, here — you are too yoiing, boy. Where is the pro- 
prietor of the place ? Tell him I want to see him — we 
have a nut to crack together,^ but I'll best him. ^ Young 
^ladiesp have an eye on my little fairy, here, so as she don't 
■flyaway — I 'U be back directly,'*' • ; • . 

**What is the name of the author .who describes the 
, JUiine and the Lorely so beautifuUyj sir ?" ' 

"The Lorely? Oh, there are- many, : First we'll have 
- breakfast, then the wardrobe, then the Droshenfelsen — ^no 

the Thiergarten/ we'll visit first— no, we'll .see to the - 
' clothes first; you look too shabby. I think this is a fine 
place for breakfast, and a very good one we will. have. 
My, my 1 How can I act so silly? After you are dressed: 
up a little we'll go to the Coiner Doom; there you'll hear, 
tnusic; J can assure you. - : v •.. lii v ;'; . - 

' "Draskenfellsen, Hoenfellsen, Bonn, Coblenz and Bin- 
^en^the Dutchmen call it a slip of the Paradise. ,j It is r 
fine^^he^e/ We'll be happy,'darling]V How I^love you.^^ 
HereV'my-^sweetheart, here on this- slip of i Paradise 'on 
^?trth*'that^I shall make you mjrriownor die forit. >Yes,; 
Tvfth hask or crod, or good words and mwieysL shall makei ; 



X^^J^ 



^"^^^iMm^;^"^^^*^ 



you mine. Yes, in this slip of Paradise on earth you shall 
^ submit to my wishes/* * /. 

"What is that, sir?" 

"What is that, sif ? I'll show you what it is-^just wait 
a while. Heaven, those eyes of yours, they'll drive me 
miad. Ah, I better tell you, I think. You like unusual , • ' , 1A 
things of all description, you say. Well, I thought I'll \ | 
compose a pretty poem as one of your wedding presents— v 

won't go through ; I'm no shiner, neither can I get the . 
matter into my head, so I decided on prdse. Prose is 
easier, and of course I want to make a hit with that book 
and I mumble and think, study and mumble and mumble 
and swear, but nothing doing. High and low and up and 
down my thoughts wander for to get the thing together. 
My orthography I thought— but no, later on you'll get 
that, and I'll let you write it for me. I have, of course, 
met with some bad people in my life, and often I think 
about those things, and the book is for you as a wedding 
present. Now — ^well, it's hard to write books and I want 
to be nice, you see. It is sentences from the books which 
I am repeating to myself-^pay no attention, little one; 
we'll be happy yet. After dinner we'll enjoy the beauty , 
surrounding this fasmerken. Do you sing the Lorely? 
Yes; well, well, we'll have some dinner first, then comes 
the Lorely. 

"Why are you so restless, child? You weep— why? 
You feel unhappy with me? *Am I rude? Well, I will 
not be so any more. I think that we better return to 
Cologne. Your father's letter may have arrived titers 
now. It is my highest desire on earth to take your little 
body and eat it up, but you are a hard nut to crack." 

"What is that, sir?" 

"That goes in the book, of course. Now, dry your 
tears and sing The Wacht Am Rhine.' " 

It is exceedingly unpleasant, and not necessary that I. 
should write about what happened in the hotel. Fourteen 
days had passed hence under excuse that we were both 
waiting- for the letter from home. I am alone-— why 
don't he return ? Where is he ? It is now two days since , ^* 

I have seen him. "Where can he be ?" I^oaned. Horror^ / 

for my future overwhelmed me. I must inquire about :; 

him, I thought, and rang the bell, which was answered 







- N -] r^THB BIOQBAPHT OF i; 

^ ;^;:^^ directly by onie of the^attehdants, who handed me a letter. 
fe'v ^^ I tore open the letter. It was from him. - . 

;|i : *'Mv Own Darling, My Grasshop, My Ho^jeydbw: 
^' ■ * / "I had to return to Amsterdam at once. I had not the 
ftj':^ courage to tell you. I regret that you must either wait 
^^: v»at the hotel or travel back to Amsterdam alone. : It was 
|A' an urgent business matter, which could stand no delay, 
^^cii which tore me from your side in such a hurry, I left 
J^'i^-' money by the manager for immediate expense. Get it 
^v^ p;/? from him. In my imagination I squeeze you in my arms 
i^/^ *;-and take a bite of your beautiful shoulder, which you 
pi.:Sf: ' showed me for the first time by 'Olche' in Hamburg — I 
l^; >r wish you hadn't done it— I'm mad with love of you, my 
f^vl little cabbage head, and I'll kiss you half dead when I 
^^' / again meet you in Amsterdam, darling. 
^g: '- " "Your HouNTZ.^' 



ir-^'^. 



' Do what you have to do before you do what you want 
to do, and as I can't do what I want to do I better do what 
I have to do, I read some place — so I did what I had to. do. 
I returned alone to Amsterdam. In my lodgings was a: 
letter forme. 

'■■j "Come to Weisbaden, beloved. . I wait you there with 
jbpen arms. I'll meet you in the evening in the Cair- 
|§ v^ garden. They have wonderful Wiener schnitzel ' in the 
fe;: /; restaurant, and see to it that 3rou arehunp^ry. , The music 
^^, :■(' here is wonderful, of course, and you'll like it better than 
^^' any place we have visited yet; • Don't let me die of disap- 
^\r pointment> and cut out all scruples and come at once or 
gsi^ - I'll be after you. . . . 

§^^',^i^ •T.S.— I forgot to state that I^d forgotten to post the 
^w*^;^/:v letter which I wrote to your father* , I found it on my 
Sv\>>'; writing table when I arrived at my residence in Amster- 
|l|f ^ J: dam^. I wrote another and posted it at once. /The answer 
S: t^ -will arrive here — come.'' • i ^ • r » ' 

j^ y^^ radically wrong in all this, and I bet- 

v; .f^ter,'go*to and find out at once,". I thought and 

^^:?^^v: set'but; for Weisbaden^ . . ; • f^ ;^ «% vVu. n t ^ . i r r- . • • ; ^ ' . ,:5 .>■. , i 
i;rj ^l^^^i^pa^ /very^early;ih the imorhing.^i3 It \ 



^ r *^ "imw^oaKVHoMi^ifidRtJB'' 




was too early to call on my intetided husband, so t Went' 
to the "Brunnen." . r : 

. A tall, giant female stood near the Brunnen and drank"^ 
tepid water, like I did myself. Was it intuition or what 
^ was it? I kept my eyes on the ladjr, but walked away so 
as she shouldn't observe me, but still' I watched her from 
a distance. Ah, who was that? I started. - It was he, 
but how changed. He walked with a stoop and his hair 
and moustache, which were jet black, had turned into the 
pepper and salt cellar. He approached the tall female 
person near the Brunnen and raised hisNhat to her and 
gave her his arm and they walked off towards the park. 
I followed behind them. They arrived to a seat and sat 
down, and I sneaked in among the trees and ^at down in 
the grass behind them and stretched both my ears towards 
them so as I could hear what they said. 

"It was big money in the tobacco business," said my 
fiance to the female. "It was I who struck on the idea to 
send Frettzer to tobacco to Havana and there have the 
tobacco into genuine Havana cigars and from Havana 
import them to Germany as genuine Havana cigars. The 
boxes was fine labelled with 'Obscur'o and Maduro,* and 
the trick was very paying, but there is so many in that 
business now and there is not much money in it." 

As I had gathered that the female person was no other 
than my future husband's wife, I slowly sneaked away^ 
from my hiding place and made my way to the place 
where I had left my baggage. 

"That, indeed, beats my father's rattan," I thought, and 
I wished I had stayed at home and let him kill me with it 
—"ticket to Amsterdam, sir." : , .• .>- '• ., ; .: 



: CHAPTERIII : ^ 

THE WOMAN WITH A J»AST; 



':x^ 



What cannot be cured must be ,endured> say the Ger- 
mans-^no, the Americans. nI- returned to Amsterdam 
with a Gotferdam in my mind,-andvS^w. the director. of 
the Alhambra Theater and was of icourse gladly accepted 






■m 







TOB BipaBAPHT OF A^ ; ^ 

1^;^: andystarted a|^in' to\ Howl ,L lulua in a most pitiful 
f:r,r; manner. ; -.' ■ '^ .' - " 

I* • • I soon commenced to realize that some of the singers in 
l^ytKe place had a "past" and as a past is necessary to a 
|.'\ woman if she wants to be a g^eat singer, I commenced to 
|*i console myself, but did not love the fdlow — what a pity I 
'0/ didn't It was his money and diamonds I was after, I am 
>v|^ afraid. The castle in the beautiful, wild, picturesque 
fv^; Sweden* Skaren will not be erected at present. Well, I 
^^ V . can't help it. They have to wait. As a pastime I started 
J: * 'into smoking cigarettes to stop me from crying, and found 
K^ it a' pleasant salve in my sorrow, and there I was sitting , 
^^ alone in my room in my leisure hours and moaned and 

' . groaned and puffed and puffed away until I fell on the 
i -' floor in a dead faint. 

^ > The "stove-pipe hat man" annoyed me. He was 
s'. always in the theater, and on the rehearsals, trying to 
;$ V speak to me, and laid for me when I went and came from 
^: the theater and tried to bribe my landlady to give him an 
f opportunity to let him trick himself into my room, and for 
: - to escape his annoyance I escaped to Hamburg on the Elbe, . 
;;V : but as under the circumstances I could not fill my promise 
1^; to appear at Mother Crone's and fill her place with Hoi- 
^.^/:; landers, I passed up to Altona, and there hired a small 
^.ji^^vfurnished room by a female physician. 

' ■ V' What happened after then cannot be described, I will 
- only say that married men who do these things continually 
'//should be punished in that way this man — ^what is his 

' name?— T-was punished. No, don't shoot a man like that. 
,{; Have a ring builded in an obscure corner. in the ihauran, 
f" put this man into the ring after his commitment and then 

• set the street urchins after him and let them deal with him 

at their pleasure. - . .. • . . . ; . 

; , i How foolish, how very foolish, was that noblerblooded 

. = gentleman — what's his name — shooting a polluted, diaboli- 
^vj_; cal creature to death there, and then, and for that — ^yes, 
v> for doing that-^was committed to an insane asylum. But . 
1^; ^ reading between the lines it may have been that for shoot- / 
i^5: ing 'this, object that .the man— ^wh?it*s his name— ^sent him /^ 
V .f there as a punishment for such an error,, But that" lovely. 
Vk ^^gelLwife of ; his, thought, v Yes^y ye i,are, all cruelly mis- , 



t^en; '^ In spite of you women she is doing wdh * Howi^i 
do you like it, lady ? ' \ ^ >, 

^ Money, money, money ! Always in need of money, I 
have heard it from earliest childhood, and I hear it to-day 
-—money, money, money; I am in need of money. How 
will I get it ? And so was I myself thinking how will I 
make some money now ? 

Sing? Why not? Go and howl out your sorrow on 
the street, or in one of the many obscure Concert halls ; you 
are good ehough for that yet. And so one day I took 
courage, as I had to, drove from Altona and down deep in 
the mire of Hamburg, and there in a small concern ia that ' 
line I {ound an engagement, and there in that place I 
could howl for. fair, and started in to scrape and save, 
together by singing and selling a three-dollar bbttle and 
flim-flam myself to change of many fellows who came into ^ 
these places rf^^Hnfc a^^m&w. & 

My room rent comes first, I thought, as there was three, 
in the room. Then came mother. Til do the best I can ; 
when I write to her. I must tell her some story to calm ,' 
her down. I will receive news from home, at least, and. 
she is likely to be glad that I am alive and doing ^ 

"Your father is dead, Ada. He died of grief, realizing* 
that his hope was shattered — ^that there was no hojpe for 
atonement, fhat he had lost his two oldest children by 
, cruelty. Father was smart, Ada. I had been telling him 
about how I had received letters from Axel clandestmely, 
and he laid for the letters from you and he got them and 
read them well, looking for trouble between the lines of 
your letters." ''^ '^ 

Those news knocked me out for a while and I stopped 
' singing, but when there came a letter from my little sister l 
stating that mother was suffering from -cancer, but could >> 
be cured by a smart man who practised without a diploma^ 3 
but had to be paid well for his Visits Attending to mother's 
illness. ' "• - v- ^-^--:"^'-- ' MfM'Tr. v. - " • . -.'■,■. 

"Now, I need money/* I thought, and^went with the lit-^ ^ 
tie I had on a fourth^class ticket to Weisbaden to see a 
man who could be kiioWn by; his pepper and salt mus- i 
tache and his stove-pipe hat, 'and met with him, but I 
wasn't in it any more* J -^ :^r • >:':^ 1: j • r M 

: "In Amsterdam I strived so hard ; oh, so hard, to do all 



:i'v^„^'v.^y. ^..yrt^. 




p^V ^;/'--- - •' .. .• ."'■"' 

28 THE BIOGRAPHY OP A . 

? I could to atone for the misery I put you in, but you 
s^ cruelly ran away and left me in the lurdi, and now you 
;^ .•* come back here and beg money from me for doctor's bills 
V for your mother's fake attendance. Cancer cannot be 
'/r cured, anyhow. You will get no money out of me. I 
';^.. haven't got any. You can do npthing to me. I am a 
kvT married man." 

f?i>' After that I went to Rotterdam with another Godfer- 
damme in my heart, and after some time I received an 
i. engagement in another Alhambra Theater in Harte Hoch- 
?>;|^, straat of that name. As I wasn't any more what I had 
'^^!}' ; been, the salary was very small, and I studied and thought 
fc-^';and studied and thought what I could do to earn good 
pte' money,, until inspiration whispered in my ear, or brain: 
"^ ' "America, the land of gold. Ada, go there." I did, and 
>*i I Jumped from Weistoden, Germany, and landed in 
•* ^ America, ' - . 

(^ft^^ Fate juggled me here and there, up and down, for some 
H' time in New York City, until fate got me;, where it wanted 
to have me, at No. 27 Bowery, America, the land of fakirs 
tu/. and fakism, : \ . : . 

^_^. : ': One doHa|-.of every five dollar bottle of champagne and 
M*}' five cents commission on every small drink, I was told, 
l^^i and I of course started in to howl and drink and cry there 
K^ and then, and by all that brought in money. "Mother," I 
P^H' sifhed every night on going to bed, ^'you'will be cured 
fe; from your illness. You'll have all the money from me 
g^lj,; you want. Mother, I was born to make money, and now 
^41 have found the right place and a dollar on every bottle t 
^.?^; America, the land of gold!" . . , . » 

|^|£ Man has been the bane of my life. Two brown eyes 
S^^^; mesmerized me — mesmerized the people. in the place— 
^;mesmerized the proprietor of the place and went outside 
^^ and mesmerized the Swedish sailors to come in and listen 
|fctt>^ their countrywoman singer— mesmerized them to call 
^ for wine — mesmerized them to pay for it — ^mesmerized 
. , them, if* they:^sque^ed afterward— ^mesmerized .the: cop 
^ when -he' came in to buck him, and iii the end mesmerized 

I-, , me to marry ; him,'- 1. J.. .^h^^'^Ik ;i!:;".? >}. ;».;r / . - * ^ 

.\; "Dear Sister :'--;m ::•.->! ; Ui\^i-.::ftn%'jfj-in^\'^, >j v. U,..' :.-;.';(' ,, 
, fi/r^ ;;.v Mamma is ,r deiad;^ 'She diediirom :ian c operation < per-i; -j.. 



■«■ 



'y-^r^.^^^-':>sf^ -fi-T ■'--*|]|:/r-.;;'^-?:-A»y5^^-7' 



-^' 



NEW t04ltllHQ!fep3GfitJB b^^ 







.formed on her in Udewalla Hospital, and lies buried thefe«j 

Seek.dolitude and weep^ Ada, it relieves the pain. ilf-Jr 

• ' •: • . "Your sister, ' ■■ . ^> 

Solitude and weep— on the Bowery ! 

What God has joined together no death can put asunder. 
Why, oh, why did I marry ? And no money. My poor> 
poor little sister I How must she feel ? Mother is dead, 
mother is dead, mother is dead — ^my poor little sister and 
no money! 

"You shall have all the money you want. Fll make it nj 

for you. There isn't a in the place who can make ^r^ 

money like I. Here is a five note ; give it to the first holy 
Sister who comes into the place and let her have prayer - -^ 
in the church said for your mother. Mother, mother, 
mother ! When my mother died over in Ireland I couldn't 
stand it any longer, and I ran away from home. Here^ 
drink this down. That'll knock you out for some time. 

There isn't a of a woman in all this world who has 

a better husband than you have. Show me the man or 
woman who says anything against either you or your .^^ 
mother! Get your little sister over here. rU.make ;li 
money enough for both of youse. I don't want you to ;^ 
sing any more. I am man enough to support a wife. If 
I wasn't I wouldn't have married you. I knowed the very 
first I set my eyes on you that you was the best woman in 
all the world. She sleeps! Come, boys, we'll carry her 
up stairs." 

Poor John. He meant well enough, poor fellow, and he 
would have been all right hadn't it been for his loafer 
friends, who clung to him now more than ever, since he 
#had married a great singer. John was good-natured and 
spent his money freely. It came easy and it went easy. 
If he tried to save they would touch on his weak point. 
He was jealous— insanely ^ jealous — ^but there was no 
earthly reason why he should be jealous. His "friends'* 
observed that he was insanely jealous and used means to 
arouse him to doubt his good, honest and true wife. This 
always happens in the saloons. The saloons had been his 
home before he married me, and he cannot get out of the 
habit On account of that he took great interest in poli- 



"'^.J/Bt'v>- 



30 THJI BIOOBAPHY OF i. 

^; tics. He was a backer of John J. O'Brine and Silver Dol- 
. lar Smith, and tfie politics and jealousy mingled in to- 
. gether put his head in a whirl, and the bartenders, with 
;: the assistance of the loafers, would get every cent out of 
f . -^ John's pocket before he left the saloon. Then he' 
K.\^ would come home late in the night and raise a terrible 
i > racket, that he would keep up several days. He would 
■ pawn everjrthing he had worth money and borrow where 
;i' he could get trust. Then when there was nothing more 
:> doing he would slowly and hesitatingly get himself to 
X , home. -If the door was locked on him he would simply 
burst it open, and without a word creep under the dining 
£"^ room table and sleep off his jag. And then he would lie 
^*^V and mumble arid pray, "Mary, Mother of God, look down 
*y^ - upon me. Mary, Mother of God, brain those loafers who 
(^ won't let me alone. Mary, Mother of God, let me make 

'Ji^/' money so I o^n get 'out of those d -n liquor saloons. 

1^'; Mother, Mary of God, let me make money so as I can 
5i\, have a saloon of my own. Mary, Mother of God, telj my 
f^0'* wife to forgive me this time and I shan't take a drink 

^/ ' again as long as I live, and I like to see any — •. « make 

[^ . me do it/' ' , 

* ^:^ Sometimes I would get tired of all this and send a letter 
to the Myerhoffen theatrical agent near-by^ and hastily 
^^^ pack up my wardrobe and send it out to some town near- 
M' by, but John' would rejform there and then, save up every 
K- cent and follow me and .stay sober long enough until he 
1^* ■ had overtalked me to forgive him and return with him to 
^New York. . ' , / " ;. ;• 

God, our lover and protector, forgives, I thought. You 

^ must do the same^ Ada, and John and I would kiss and 

;' make up and return to New York and the Bowery, arid I 

^^^woutd sing and he would sing until we had sung and 

K slung in the money we had squandered without having 

{^ had the least fun of it,«'and so on. i 

b^j^ This outgo I commenced to realize.' Years fly away; 

* '^; J J'am' 'getting older, John is getting poorer and I am as 

f poor as I ever was. I must make a break,. and as I had 





am going to leave you forever^ John4t You'll nevei-^ seel 
me again." And so I died, or at least I tried, and had myt 
name changed from Ada into Stella' Anderson. One fine> 
evening I arrived in Philadelphia and became known in] 
that town as Stella, the Swedish Nightingale, which made ^ 
me very proud, and as a grass widow I could take privi- r^ 
leges and flirt, and I flirted and sang and drank fake ; | 
drinks and wine and tlie commission floated into my 
pocket. Every week I went to the bank, and Stella 
Anderson will soon become a wealthy, woman, I thought, 
' and buy a residence on Fifth Avenue in New York City 
and live there in seclusion with her little sister, sur- 
rounded with every luxury in the line of books by favored € 
authors, poets, painters, flowers, pet animals, including a '^ 
monkey and parrot. Sister would live in a Paradise on 
earth, and die there as two old maids — puncttim. 

"Depot for Chicago, driver, and be quick about it. 
John is after me again ! Poor, poor John," I said when 
I and the driver set out in great speed towards the depot. 
*Toor, poor John. I wish I was dead and buried !" 

There was no wine commission in Chicago, and Harry 
Hill was my next place ; and hurrah for Billy MacGlory ! , 
Billy MacGlory had at that time a very reasonable orches- 
tra, a good stage and good performers. His show com- 
menced at ten o'clock in the evening, and as I took un- 
usual things of all kinds this came handy. 

The first part was over ; I lingered behind the stage un- 
til it was my turn to appear. "What will I sing?" I 
thought. I never gave notes — I had none, I said. The | 

echoes from the Swedish mountains, or Lindernati ? Lin- ^^ 
dernau, I 'decided. "Play a variation in, C^ dure," I said '^ 
to the leader of music. "Never mind me. .You'll see me "^^ 
when I feel like it. I'll be there before iypu,. but, |iriind 
you, sir, and pay attention»r f r v., . ^^ ^ .; , " 

"By Billy MacGlory, you have to Wear" tights, Ada,' > 
they t^ me on the Bowery, and pror^^Ada was figged 
out in flesh-colored tights, white satin costume covered 
with glittering beads and white kid ^gloves reaching to th^ 
elbow. »i I had to. wear gloves with or without tights ; my 
liands were, still red, and :SWollen' from the cow-milkingf ' v ; ^ 
business, in Schloss iHatenhofif,' Mecklenborg Schwerin, 
Germany. ..Yes, ,1 had to ;Wear gloyes^^^ ; 






, Sa ' THE BIOOBAPHY OF^A 



)lv*vj^-.:.v' ; ; .^':,:^ '',<2y •"■■'- v*^i:lL::iK^-*'.; ; ;^_-j^. 



1-lV ' 



^,:c; "Ah-h-hr they said before me, "Ah-h-h r the crowd 
said away out in the hall, and stopped in their high kick- 
ing, drinking and dancing. *'Ah-h-h !" I said in an un- 
dertone to the leader of music. "You and your gang will 
do," and started in to sing and perform there and then^ I 
had translated Lindernau from German into English. It 
is catching music. I couldn't do much with Lindernau. 
Ah, yes, wait and you'll see, and you won't interrupt me. 
Again I sang, 

* ■ Now here I am you see, . . 

^' . "i. To sing a song, oh pray, 

|'/-\; ", ril try my best, please gentlemen, don't run away ; 
M^*' .; %^ I like to show my style, 
^k^J V: -^ Yes, every bit for a while, 
i -V 'T^ -^ I like to please in every way; give me a trial. 
S'" ■ ' '••-.'. • • • . 

I^li ^ "Tral!a-!alla4alla Ial!a-Iah-ah-ah,'Vsays the orchestra, 
Jv^ :^ and I am there ready to do my duty to the tralls^ng. What 

^;^:^do.I do? ^ -^ .■;• : . •.^.•. '..:.-. ,.•-•. '• ; 

1^ ;• Why in the first place you prepare your face for the oc- 
^%- casion. Mouth and eyes have to be just-so. When that 
^^'' is done you seek with your eyes among<the audience until 
pyi you find a suitable face. That face must be exceedingly 
ll^" good-looking, but the head point of all is that the eyes in 
'■^\ " that face must magnetize your own eyes. • If they do your 
^ tralla is all right and you are ready for work. . The leader 
^\, of music raises his baton, swings it to. right and left ta 
^V' notify his gang to wake up and watch, as there will be .. 

^ something doing. When he' has got themthe way he 
/wants them he will be after me — and^ poor, me takes a 
I .scrape with tlie left heel, until the heel fastens to the floor. 
^; Then J with ears keenly on the orchestra and^he eyes on i 
^^the face with the magnetic eyes, I raise both arms in a 
^''" most lounging and graceful manner toward the man with ; ; 
the face, as if I could stand it no more, /but as he can't, . 
answer; me ^here and then among all those people; I take, 
the arms back again and raise them to the imagined $ky , 
above^me- .Myhead and eyes foUoY^ithe arms, but, as T.r 
receive no answer there, either;,! g^ze. and google over 
to ^the man ^ith the > face andr soak^ in^ anpther; electric^ ,y 
^ stroke;!? JhatiWofks^f arid.fVTralUllaUallalalla a-hrh'n.3ay:- , ^ 



the orchestra, as if they. were influenced by the magnetism 
* themselves — ^and where am I ? Yes, there ; stand fast 6n 
iny heel and swing my whole body, swing, swing, swin|^, 
without moving my head, which is raised to Heaven, as if 
tny heart was breaking, that's all. 
• The audience, of course, gets in a terrible racket and 
-wants more of it, but Billy MacGlory is no dummy. "It's 
enough," he says to his floor manager. "Smith, get her 
off. the stage and get her 'doing,' " and in comes a colored 
waiter buck act before me, witfi his black hand arid a tray 
under his arm. I understand him and follow him-^I had 
been on the Bowery. In we comes among some parties; 
a man sits on the table ; on tfie table is a large bottle. The 
colored waiter puts me in a chair before the man. I look 
up and before me I see the man with the face and the 
•eyes in it. 

"I am the man you was blinking at when you sang that 
shocking song, and as I thought that you acted as if you 
wanted to msuce me your own for life, there and then, I'd 
better submit to your wishes, and as J was told by the floor 
manager that I could have a private interview in here, that 

-we could be all alone by ourself I would say- *' but that 

was all he could say, as the colored waiter came in with* 
another bottle, cracked it and the wine floated by acci- 
dent around the man and his face and breeches, and then 
the poor waiter had, of course, to get another bdtue. The 
. man would pay for it. Then Mr. Smith, the floor man- 
; ager, came in and there was a lot of more bottles.^ And 
as Mr. Smith did the most of the talking the man with the 
face had very little to say, and as no oiie cared if he spoke 
or not, as long as he paid for the bottles regularly he 
didn't need to say a word. 



CHAPTER ly 

MR. GAMBASSY, 20/ BOWERY 

"Some one wants to see you, Mis^ Stella, come out here. 
We can't let him inside-^e's too drunk and wanti^ to' 
raise a. racket. Give me your consent and I'll fire him." 



341 THE BIOGRAPHY OF A 

John, John, John, John ! He's paralyzed and has on a 
silk hat and evening suit. "Is some one dead, or did he 
remarry?" ; ^ . . 

-. y, **1 ain't so drunk as you think I ani, and I won't take 
another drink as long as I live, and I have been pleading 
of Mary, Mother of God, that this sucker of a dive- 
keeper would fire you so you'll be compelled to come to 
me» I am man enough to support my wife — ^you old 
drunken -, and you can ask every man in the bar- 
room what they are going* to have, and tell that damned 
sucker of a dive-keeper that I have money enough to pay 

^ for it/' 
^ "This gentleman is my husband, Mr. MacGlory; what 

V am I to do?" ^ * - 

•* What are you to do ? Take ^your husband into one of 

"the boxes and simply 'pull his leg.' Smith, attend to this 

lady and gentleman. I won't have a hand in diat, thoup^h. 

! I feel sorry for both of them. It's a wonder what drmk. 

, can do/' . , .^ ; . . ; - - 

Forgive me, my dear reader— reader? Will any one 

read this? They ought to— -well, no, they won't — not 

until after I am dead. I have to die, just like the rest of 

us. That Ibsen fellow was in the same boat as I am, 

striving and striving with Peer Gynt, or poor gent, or 

"vwhat was it? . No, tfiey didn't want it until after he was- 

dead, that of course, and there was poor me. He is way 

up, I think, because he has a monument — the devil! If I 

work hard and pack my room full of unavailable manu- 

: t. scripts and lie down and die, then, then they'll be after me 

j /for good and for fair, and buy you! I ought to have a 

■ AV monument, no use talking. As I said, will any one read 

V this? No, it wasn't that I was going to say. What was 
: it? Oh, yes; John. Reader. or no reader, I took poor 
I John into one of the boxes and started in to "pull his leg" 
. good a;id hard/' but after the first bottle was opened I 

discovered that he only had a dollar to pay for the five 
, , dollar bottle, and I had. to pay for the bottle. 

./'Not by your tintype !". said Billy. "Ladies don't pay 
y, in my, place. ;. Smithy attend to this gentleman." 
/ r If any one thought that they could "do" John they were 
- quite mistaken. »^ Not even Billy MacGlory coulfi ; no, sir! 



Vnn TOBK HOTEL 80BUB r, 85 ' fV'| 



../f 



John kept annoying^ both Billy and me until I got sick of it v- jl 
and went down to Gambassy, on the Bowery. ' -/ ' 

^ Gambassy wore a funeral hat and gave wine conimis- '■■■} 
sion. Gotte — no, Gambossy on the Bowery reminds me *-^ 
of an old gentleman oyer in Sweden. His name was Bell- • 
man. He was a poet half-born and a drunkard. ' D— 
if I don't think he got a monument. Yes, he did, and it is ■' 
erected on Gustaf Adolpsborg. Well, this Hoffnar poet •; 
and drunkard, like Gambassy on the Bowery, had a great • .^^ 
time with his stove-pipe hat. , . •/ 

When Bellman was drunk and kept up drinking the ■ 
king became disgusted and fired him, and poor Bellman J 
got on the bum, and there he was sitting in his scanty " , 
home, thinking and stroking his battered silk hat. "Some- . . 
thing must be done," he thought. "I'm dry." 

As the man was a man of genius inspiration came. ; , 
"There's one fellow from whom 1 may squeeze out a little 
change. I'll try it," so he went to the undertaker, rang •■ 
the bell and stood waiting, and the undertaker soon ap- 
peared. . ■ 

"Pardon me, my dear sir; I came here to bid you my . 
last farewell. You see for yourself that my time is shdrt ^ • 
here on earth. My pulse is weaker than ever— everything -^ J^ 
is in readiness for you. To-day I was refused a treat. ' -^ 
So I go home, if I can go so far, and lay down beside my .^; 
. poor, starving cat and say my last prayer, but I have a 
favor to ask you. After mv death my bones is yours*. Z 
You have paid for them. All my unavailable MSS# is v^l 
yours. I have testamented that in your favor. The cat, ;"' > 
is yours. I have testamented the cat in your favor,' but ';: 
to keep the cat alive until you come after me I need a... 
little change for liver for her, and ask you kindly, my dear J 
sir, to slam in another half a kronen oh the bargain," and : . ' 
he raised his black, battered stove-pipe hat and assumed J 
a most pitiful position, and so he stood for some time be- ■ 
fore the gaping undertaker, awaiting his reply; 

"B^onel" said the undertaker, who knew Bellman of , 
old. Feda, come here!" Now, as Bellman was a born 
aristocrat, he made use of jt, and as he saw no hope to p^et 
tiie price for a drink here, either, he changed his position 
like a flash and stood before the undertaker and his dog,.> ; 
a strong, healtfiy man, and raising b|S stove-jpipe in a most-V^'. ,^ 









^' 3fl , THB ^BIOGRAPHY bv ▲ 

>^> ■ . ., ■ . ' ' .' . ' • . 

p*^ aristocratic and sarcastic manner to the undertaker, he 
r: turned to depart, but Feda, the dog, snapped him in the 
\^, j)ant$ and held him fast. - 

The d<^ might have meant well, but as Bellman saw 
no reason why he~ should stay, started in to free himself 
from the dog, who was persistent in holding him fast for 
> '. his own welfare, no doubt. 

*'You bought the bones of a Hoffnar drunkard, and 
poet for little and nothing; here is a juggler in the bar- 
gain," he said to the waiting undertaker, and removing 
his hat from his head he gave it a swing toward the dog, 
^ which hastily snapped at it and held it fast, and waggii^ 
his tail, he held it toward the undertaker as if it was of 
more worth than the whole man, dead or alive. 
''^y ^ This put the undertaker in a good mood, and taking the 
'hat from the dog's mouth, he put his hand in his pocket 
and drew out the only piece he happened to have, a silver 
;. crown and swung it before Bellman's feet and dis- 
. gustedly swung the hat after him, and Bellman had won 
•"; his game. 

What was T talking about before I went over to 
Sweden? Yes, Mr. Gambassy, at 207 Bowery. If any 
one was seeking engagement of Gambossy you could tell 
his answer by his hat. If he' took off his hat and caress- 
ingly stroked it five times and then replaced.it on his head 
that meant no. If he snapped off the stove-pipe and gave 
^. it a swing so as it fell back on his head, that meant yes. 
%^ : '*Cut out the notes. I never give notes. If I do you'll 
*J^'. hustle my business. If you ain t satisfied tell Gambossy, 
• and I can go back to Billy MacGlory, where I came 
I : ju^ from," I said to the leader of music on rehearsal. 
I ;; : "She is right," said a little fellow with jg^lasses, who 
stood near me, *'I'm the violin f rom Gambossy's other 
^ V. ' place. He wants me to play here tp-night for a change, 
il0. and of course I will be the. leader also/' ' 

"Suit. yourself, then," said. the piano player, and called 
foranother ;5chooner. . 

i Thqidevil and no one else | must have sent this violin 
I^Iayer ovefjand not Gambossy; because this man .turned \ 
I^^V^ out toibi^ another bane of my;Iifc, v;::^. : / y <:'^; ^^^ o 
•^^ •^'^" . Standing and caving ideas 'to the leader, T iistenefl with 



KBW YORK HOTEL SCRUB ' 87 ; 

one of my ears to a conversation behind me. It was the 
violin and trombone who were talking. ' - 

"Youll never catch her spending a cent for a treat. She \ 
has several bank books in her bustle. She wouldn't give 
you a drink if you were dying for one. She is a married 
woman, but has, I hear, commenced divorce proceedings, 
and I don't blame her. Her husband is Uie worst man on 
the Bowery." .' 

This tale was seemingly interesting to the violin, as 
he started in to flirt with me to beat the band of music he . 
^as leading. This time it was a cat who has been another 
bane of my life — ^niade me marry. I have always been 
very fond of cats. A little kitten had crept under the > 
leader's chair, seeking protection, and there, mewed most; \ 
pitifully, and I of course came out of the dressing room 
to get the kitten. Good opportunity, thought the violin, « 
and it took him rather long to produce the kitten into my 
keeping. 

The music became interrupted, and Gambossy came 
over to see what was the matter, and seeing the leader of 
music stroking the kitten instead of his violin, he dis- 
charged the leader, but sympathetic me interfered by say- 
ing, "Mr. Gambossy^ if that leader, who is kind to ani- 
mals, must leave I shall go also." That worked and we 
both became chums after that. 

It is fate, I suppose, who does these things. Well, one 
evening the leader offered to carry the kitten home for 
me, as I intended to keep it. "^^ 

"The . Limburger cheese is without surpass in this 
place," said the leader of music, when we passed a "oase^ 
ment saloon in Sixth Street.. "Will you come in?" 

"Certainly," I said, arid we both went into the place. 
There we met other performers from the BoAvery, and as 
we knew each other we became jolly and the violin player 
was at his best that night. 

"Come in here, you," a voice said through the partition. 
"Come in here, or I'll be after vou." • • . 

"Dapsdumme frauenzemer, sneered the violin to me,;/- 
and stroked the slumbering kitten on my lap. "Mich can ^ 
see ja dock nicht wallen, I b^en shari lange satt from ur^. 
geworden. She is wasting her time running after me, ^. 



that*Q all *' . < ,.,.., ,v. V , -y-..,^,, 

x^a^s ail.. ... , .,,..... ...... .^st:^^^^:.. '-^^^i^^^^^^^r^M.^ 



^38 ^ TEUS BIOOEAPHY OF ▲ 

hfj "^ . Aifter some little time *'das dumme Frauenzemer*' came 
J^f in and hit the leader of music in the eye and broke his 



^.v^: \ glasses, and as he was helpless without his glasses J and 

► , ; • tiie kitten were compelled to help the leader of music to 
^54 -his lodgings. 

* 1 .yo make a long story short, the leader, the cat and I 
^v' doubled up and went light housekeeping, and thought 
^■vf J-that we were happy, but as all good leaders of music 
1^'' smoke cigarettes and drink ^r from early morning to 
1^;: late at night, through him I acquired the habit. I drank 
i;^;,,': beer and smoked cigarettes from early morning to late at 
;:^( V night, and got mysdf into such a miserable state that even 
P^ • [, Reagan,, at 27 Bowery, refused me an engagement, and I 
*f>s ■ was no good any more, but as something had to be done 
4 -• ■ so I could make some money, as I wanted that residence 
5: on Fifth Avenue, I thought I'll invest my saved together, 

hard-earned cash in real estate. 

As Rocks, as I will call him after this, wanted me ta. 
ry invest in the delicatessen business, we argued, and it took 

me nearly a half year's time before my money was in- 

> • ' vested properly. Then my "husband" lost his job. Yes, 
If but as I was now the owner of a high stoop^ four-story 
) r ■ brick, biasement and cellar, twelve rooms and bath, all new 
\, '-improvements, no yard, but a fire escape in front of the 
:V;:;-; house, I did not care very much, but started in to make 
^f-'' business there, and then let the leader of music help me. 

The house was packed with nice people, gentlemen only, 
ll' ^ ■'and'We were both in high glee, playing pinochle, petting 
!^^,y the cat and smoking cigarettes and working the growler, 
!<- * when the roof started in to leak over our heads. ,. 
f - ♦'The devil," I thought. "Who would have thought that 
^r- 'a roof would leak in a house with all new improvements?" 
j^ • " But as there .was a man in the house he went up to the 

roof and did the best he could with it, then he came down 
> : and he started in to smoke cigarettes, as we had to talk the 
^^:'; matter over.. 

. '\ ; "Isn't these real estate agents fakes?" I said for to say 
■i '' ' something, w "Yes," said Rocks, and went over to the cor- 
;V^;^^^ a pint. The tenants complained that the 

';^f ^^ water ^^trean^ed down In their beds, but as Rocks was a: 
:l'|-^-%ood musician,^ he waS), and t had be?n a good singer onte, 
<, >v; '^g made music every night in the parlor and the tenants, 




NBW YOBK HOTBL SORim ^^ ^^^,^^ -: 

listened the whole night and did not feel that the water 
' was dripping, dripping in their faces, and so on; ^"; 

When the weather was good, which did not happen ^ 
very often, the leader got his tools and started in to pre- ; 
pare to fix the roof good and solid this time, but as I and ';.;; 
the cat and the can and the cigarettes and matches had to 
accompany Rocks oii the roof, so he wouldn't feel lone- 
some up there, it took some time before he was ready to 
go up, and it started in to rain again, and we had to let it - 
go, and what else could we do but sit down and play 
pinochle and go and get a pint and a pack and kiss and 
make up? Still,'! was prosperous, and there was big hope , 
for me in the future, and I thought I'd better get another 
house, which I did in the same street farther down. That 
is, I leased the building and filled it with good people, and ' 
was just looking for another house to fill up when some ; 
one handed me the Morning News and told me to read it.- 

A whole block in the street beyond my property had Jn \ 
the middle of the night been raided and bad characters of 
all kind had been scattered 'homeless and penniless all 
over town. The man — what's his name?— needed money, 
the paper said, as he wanted to go to Switzerland in .the * } 
summer and live in a high-stoop, brown-stone house— all v 
improvements in the winter, had smelled rats in that ' 
block and put his nose into it, but made himself too nosey 
and all the unfortunate creatures were driven out in the : 
rain without a wink and warning and the property stood 
there, empty and lonely, but as the agents are wide awake . 
they hired a new colored woman and took in a ton of coke, ,^| 
closed the doors and drew up the blinds, heated up the ^^ 
house and put out a bill saying, "Furnished rooms ; gentle- • "i 
men only. All new improvements and $1.25 and up- % 
wards," and so^so. I thought $1.25 per week, Rocks and •> 
I with all our music-making won't be in it any more— 
neither we was. ^ i : • ^ v 

Since that time I have been a bitter hater of whiskers. -{^ 
Whenever I see a whiskered man I lay for him with the v, 
scissors, but what good will thiat do me? That don't, 
bring me back my lost wealth,, neither is there any hope Of V 
the residence on ..Fifth Avenue, and forget him. He has ' 
made himself scarce, anyhow,' I heard. Maybe he hides in ^ 
the wilds of Switzerland^ or maybe; they lies about him;^^ 



^Tm^'^'- 



40 THE BIOORAPHT OP A . 

but what IS the difference? He made money; I lost, so he 
was smarter than I, $p forget him. 



I* t 



CHAPTER V 

THE ECHO FROM THE SWEDISH MOUNTAINS 



Mi 



I DID not give up then and there, and I clung to the 
property* The leader of music drank whiskey now to . 
give himself brain, he said, but the more whiskey he con- 
.sumed the less brain he got, and in his drunken stupor he 
hinted that I was not the very freshest peach in the basket, 
|>. neither was I the cream of the milk any more. Those 
U days was passed, the whiskey in liim asserted. "I'll get 
rid of you," I thought, and rigged him out and sent him 
with the Haverly Minstrels, which I knew would for sure 
bust on the road. Some they fire out, and I wanted never 
to see him again. Can you blame me? No, of course 
not. Never tell a woman that she is! getting old and unat- 
t>r, tractive. That don't work, and I think it was very ignoble 
^ of the leader of music to say such mean things to his ' 
f '*Stella, the star who was going to be his starlight for- 
p^;^ , ever/' '. • ' 

gw" Now ni give you some fun to break the monotony. 

Ada Stella, the star, was in love for the first time. 
Listen and you shall see how it happened. The front door- 
liell rang and I answered. And there he stood. Whom? 
u^V The echo from the Swedish mountains. - 

Who IS that? That party I had Hawl L. Luluaed after 
right along. Yes, I opened >and gasped. "Why didn't 
you sliow up before?" I said in a querulous tone. "Wlier^ 
imve you kept yourself? Didn't you hear my voice howl- 
ing for you wherever I went? Well, better late than 
nevefj they say, arid please step inside and take a rest, 
sir/*- -■•I,/. . . ,' . ■ . 

"Tak^ a- seat yourself, young lady, and pardon me, 
madame.' Did I. hear a sweet, voice like yours whisper- 
ing to myheart now and then? .But as I am a very busy 
man and'Hail learned not to give those voices any hear- 
ing any more, and >V intuition taught me that you were 



r' 




■.^ 



\ KBTir TOBK HOTEL SOBUb' , \4l 

^very occupied and well supplied, I lingered until now, but 
I felt that now is the time to show up, and here I am now 
for you and await your command." 

"Brain," I thought "He has brain, like my father said 
to my brother away over in Sweden one evening: 'The 

f^irl has brain and what more do they want? I am the 
ather of a praying child, my son,' he said. Was he right 
or not?" - . 

Of course you want to know what this "Imarable" looks 
like. When I start in to criticise a person I always begin 
at the lower, and, firstly, he wore commonplace, soft- 
leather shoes. I find these new styles abominable. 'It is y'^ 
something radically wrong about the man who wofe them. 
I'll climb a little. Then there comes an evening shirt, 
stiff and stately. Then there is the head to diescribe, and | 
I commence with the ears. The ears were deceiving, 
though. I'll tell you that some other time. Blonde, curly 
hair, having the latest style of tint. The forehead was 
innocent and humorous — eyes with a sad longing in them 
like some little children have when they are out for mis- 
chief. A beauty mole on the right cheek, a good nose, a 
teasing-looking mustache of the right kind and a chin 
which said: "I am going to have it, but if 1 don't get it 
I don't care." That was the look of the Echo from the 
Swedish mountains. 

Fair, fat and forty, he is, I thought, and he shall be 
mine with hook or crook, and went before him up stairs 
to show him the furnished room he was looking for. He. 
. rented the room from me and I was in Heaven, and after 
paying tlie $1.25 room rent required, he, with a graceful 
bow and a meaning look, said, "So long," and went off. 

Arriving in the basement I first peeped into the mirror. 
Heavens above! I was grayheaded. Well, that can be at- 
tended to. There is no color at all in my face. Well, 
that cah be attended to. Oh, dear ! I am standing in a 
bent position — ^when did I acquire that habit? Well, I'll 
get out of that at once. AVhat have I got on? Oh, my! 
A soiled blue calico wrapper. How and where and when 
did I get a calico wrapper? That won't do, Ada, and my 
finger nails ; I ought to be ashamed of myself. No more 
pints and cigarettes for me 1 The cigarettes stain the 
fingers aiid teeth and the beer makes me blue in the face 



4'^ 






'v 43 , THE BIOORAPHT 07 i 

^.;^ -'■ . . • ■. . ■ . • • 

I' and bloated, and give your eyes a glaring look. Didn't 

I have Madonna eyes once? They said I had. That 

V f boney woman in Lybeck said my eyes changed in color— 

.; ^ there is no color at all in my eyes. They are watery and 

weak-looking, and "I was too fat." Why, the bones are 

protruding at the neck and elbows. Oh, niy! That's 

very sad indeed I I was not aware that I had evoluted 

from an angel into an old-looking witch. Stick out your 

r tongue, Ada-Stella. Draw it in again. Don't show your 

* tongue at all — ^you have to stop wagging it ; it is all brown 

from nicotine — ^brown from nicotine. . I wonder where I 

^could find a butt and a match? I have to sit down and 

see what can be done to all this. I have to go under re- 

; pair, and that before my fat, fair and forty sees me again, 

otherwise there is no hope for me. 
f From this monologue, my dear reader, read or not — I 

don't care— you can gather that I was in love, for the 
A^] first time in my life. How old am I ? Never mind. That 
fe** can be attended to. He isn't so young himself. I'm glad 

**' of that. Oh, dear, how happy we will be ! But now I 
- -must be doing, . . . . 

^ :\ Is it want of providence, Fate or God who prdains us to 
wT^v^P^ss through these things which happen to us so unex- 
^&^4* pectedly? With all their millions, observance and study 
they can seemingly not find out for sure— the deepest 
study of science 13 too little avail. So, it must be God/ 
as well. •• ,.•;;.. .'• ,■>'■.•. • . . 

Now to go into details, what happened and how I be- 
came nearer acquainted with this individual is not neces- 
sary that I should waste time on. It's too much of these 
; things . Why dwell on it ? No ; but some years after this 
'• I saw myself lying deadly sick in a rickety-rackety folding 
bed in a room upstairs and looking before on a rickety- ' 
\' rackety old cooking range which had seemingly many 
tales to tell about its adventurous life, had it had the 
1^ power of speech. Anyhow it kept my eyes off the men 

■ ^. sitting on an old rickety-rackety parlor sofa, without legs 
and with the springs coming out here and there, where 
. . you had to.feel and move your body until you found ^ 
ItV;" J ^^ 'hole where^ you could, find peace and rest for a few 

^ One of the men sitting on this sofa was a little^ soft fel- 




NEW YbRK^OtBL SOROT^^^^ ^^^^^ ^^ :^^^^^^ 

' , * (» ■ . i - • ' . ' ^ * . ., 

low whom I had nicknamed the "Whisparing Jack." The 
other man, who was a great deal larger and fatter than 
the other, was The Echo from the Swedish mountains. 

•'It won't take much longer," whispered the Echo from 
the Swedish mountains. "She has the life of a cat. She 
says she used to live mostly oh some kind of grass which 

S"Owed somewhere among the rocks in Sweden; which is 
e cause of her extraordinary vitality. I wish I knOwed 
what it was, and I would sure make money on it. She 
won't tell, though, and I can't pump it out from her, as . '[m 
she says she aiirt sure if it isn't a sin to do so. She says ; i^ 
all those people which she has encountered in hef very : .3 
busy life don t deserve to live any longer than they do." . .- .: ^ 
"Where do she keep the money she got from the sale | 

of her property?" V'^ 

"Ifa her left leg sock, nineteen hundred dollars in cash . \;| 
money. Tempting, isn tit?" ;^.i| 

"I don't see how you can stand it, Charley. I S)rmpa- ;Vi 
thize with you. How long has she been that way?'' . . "vl 

"Ah, the selling of this old sagging building broke her . | 
heart, she says, but her heart has been broken so many ' }5 
times — ^yfes, over and over again. I broke it, she says, but. . -^ -1 
, it .won't stay broken long, for she has found a remedy for 'J 

that malady also. She is smart, I have to acknowledge sa . ■4 
much. She says that when she gets tired running arotmd vj 
. with a broken heart she swallows some plaster of Paris and '^ 

that settles on.her heart and mends up the rent in no time, ' .J 
and she gets just as fresh a^ ever^ preventing me tago inta . /I 
the place when I feel like it. She can live without food, ':,! 
but I am a strong healthy man, sit in 'the open air in the ^' ] 
Park a good deal— where else can T go ?s^.WhenL can't ^J' 1^ 
jolly her and she fires me puti^^'My :dear,^'she's--^Q one ' X; 
knows the reason why I^ am compelled to live on a woman. 
You, at least, ought'to-giye me' justice. v/Though I look . i 
strong and healthy,' I ani a very sick man; : As I have told ; 
'[ you &fore, I am sutfering^With- bladder trouble, chronic : 

■ constipationJV'^^tt^^ and' kidney:diseasc." : / 

' "Nearly two thousand J dollars/.- r How cian you stand it, 
Charley?. Nearly k hundred ih cash money in the left leg j 

of a corpse/ If I were !y6u— I don't waht to advise yoa 
jwrongly— but, She is. your wife; lefe and money is 
' yours— ^^ ^' = ■ ■^■'^.'-■^*r:M. ;:i':iUn n::-r -m- v ,, ' 



VAH 




'44 THB BiOORAPHT OT a: 

\.-' "Twenty years State's Prison if one rob a corpse, my 
5f boy/' 

l^v *''But she ain't dead yet, and as I said before, she is your 

wife — common law wife — ^she wasn't lawfully married to 
that other fellow either, you said — never cduld get 
divorced from John— wasn't he my namesake? So I don't 
see any difficulty." .. 
^Twenty years in State Prison if one robs a corpse, my 
..^^,. .boy," .^ • 

Jt,% * "Twenty years in State Prison I ought to have for. 
marrying you, my boy ! What did I eat last night, Char- 
Jey darling? How -are you Jack? You are looking 
younger. , Twenty years in State Prison if I ever do it 
again.' I dreamt of my money, Charley. That's lucky . 
to dream of money,^-r-and let us have a drink. I feel . 
better; that sleep did me good. Go down and get some- 
thing to drink, Charley, my boy. Take your friend with 
^jt; you— he needs ^ a stimulant, poor fellow, and so do. I. 
^/*';^Twenty years in State Prison if one rob a corpse." _ 

"I am afraid she heard you, Charley, I think she heard 
what you said," ; , , • ' . 

VThe only fault I have to find of you. Jack, you speak ; 
y^r . too loudly. She heard every word you said — ^and now 
beware of her. She is no dummy, as I said— there you 
got it* She is a phenomenon surely — ^a freak of nature-^ • 
just as lively and fresh as ever." . . :. 

"Now we have to be wide awake-vthat old cat didn't 
die this time, either," whiispered the Echo from the . 
Swedish mountains to his friend, the whispering Jack, 
going down stairs. 

, t had indeed been very sick this time, but hearing that 
|^:^I was a corpse and was going to be robbed, that encour- 
!p:!^^' aged me and got me on my feet again; and I stood up and 
/ waf just as happy as ever. I then went downstairs to the 
^ basement, snapped up an old shawl, throwed it over my 
' head and went down to the drug store and telegraphed to 
an old,fri^pd of mine to come to my house immediately, 
as I h^d^pold my property; Charley wasn't there; I was ^^ \ 
I alone ^^nd Jtii need of his assistance. This man whom I 
F**^^" }iad ,V!%raph^.(| tQ, Iibad nicknamed ''J^ck the Lover." ,/ ^ 
hc*>^'He had always been in love witfi m^j.h<e asserted-r^Platonic^^'S.V 



mSWi TOM :H<>TBL«SOBDBVf -' r"^St?^^ 



Vr !• . 



love only, he said, as an excuse for loving so many otiier ^ 
women, I suppose^ ■ . •. - 

^ I trusted, yes, I had absolute trust in this feltow at that ;^ 
time, and therefore sent for him as I was very weak and ; 
involved and certainly had to entrust myself into some 
one's caretaking, and there I sat and waited for him to 
arrive. There was no fear that the Echo and his friend ^ 
. would return that day, as I gave the Echo from the 
Swedish mountains a ten bill to buy the drink, for us and 
hurry back. 

I told Jack : . "And I have money to bum. Go imme- - 
diately out and find me a room in a quiet and refined 
house — sunshine I need, See to it that the room is sunny, 
and it must be situated so that I can, at night when I can* 
not sleep, open the window and listen to the southwest 
wind answering to my moaning and console me. Yoii 
hear, don't forget that j and here is the money. Be off 1 
Don't let them see you, and if they should, speak to them 
and take them in and treat them as if you had come over 
to see me just the same as ever." 

"Here is the address," said my only_ friend, Jack, re- 
turning. "Don't lose it. Put it in your pocket for safe 
keeping." 

"The room is very quiet," said the landlady, "and as 
sunny and windy as on^ can wish for." 

Jack said then: "I feel rather tired. I was up' too 
early. I have to look for work now, you see, Ada* I 
have to go to work, the brewer say he won't trust me any 
more, as he say there is nothing doinp^ any more. For the 
man — ^what's his name — is too persistent. ■ Don't worry, ' 
and eat plenty. Don't forget that you have money to get . 
it and don't stinge about the price now any more^ I'll be 
back in a minute. Don't sit there in that corner and 
freeze and worry about the grate fire. I'll be back and 
light it for you— you have money for coal and wood now, 
so don't worry." * ^ 

"Charley! D— n it, there they are c6ming,. and mind 
and mind you, Charley has dishes in his hands— Charley 1 
No, a hopeless case! Twenty years State Prison if you 
rob a .corpse. ' Ain't T art old cat ? ' ' Shanie in you, A.da- 
Stella, shame .in you^ I say." ^ 

Big, fat, fair and forty* with his Wg 




fi ; 46 IHB BIOOBAPHT 6V X 

came Staggering into the room, the little whispering Jack 
; /H creeping behind him, and pushing him before to give him 
;' c' courage, Charley dropped his dishes on the floor and fell 
pv over in the comer and laid there. Whispering Jack 
t^.'' casually followed him and sank down besides him and 
j? : started to whisper in his ear, 

? ; My only friend Jack ^so came along after some time, 

staggered into a chair and sank into it, cracking the legs 

of the old rickety-rackety easy chair and sank on the floor 

in the middle of the room near the dishes with food which 

I' / Charley had brought for me and dropped on the floor. 

, Jack was, with his glaring eyes peeping out from that 

bloated, blurred face of his, watching the food before him 

;[ ' which I now discovered consisted of a Welsh rarebit. 

I \ ; Now' I knew what that glaring look from honest Jack's 

it ;^ eyes signified I "They have bought that in place of knock* 

i 1 :v: out drops. .Had I known that she had sold out I would 

!^ »; ' '; have got next to her in an easier manner than that, but I 

g ^> am always slow— always was slow. 'Well, I know where 

, f' r ,.she lives. It was I who rented the roorii, saying I was a 

, brother to my ailing sister. Shy! But Fm smart, 

^i .though!" . . 

Yes, he was smart, but I did not know it that time. 
If I am right that it is so bad as all that, I better be off 
V to my new quarters and see for myself how it looks like 

- ^ there. I better get a pack of Cicle cigarettes and a box of 
; -t' . matches. I could certainly not sleep. It is only five 

/ ;: o'clock in the morning and I'll be very lonesome in my 

"v. : new home. What use is it. reflecting over those things? 

' <^ I have heard and seen enough, I should think, and taking 

, .;. a last look at the rarebit on the floor, I left my house and 

'/; my slumbering sweetheart lying, never, never, never to 

. return. \ 

: ' :; . , "Get me a pack of the Cicles, the only ones I smoke.' I 

- ;j have some, they are no good, though. What is that chain 

, ron the door for ? Never mind, I know. Don't forget the 

?/ matches, or you have to go again." 

- .i ii » .1 opened my eyes. I hs^d been sleeping. Who can that 
tK t?h^^T^^ figfure reminds me of some one. I have seen 

. -;: that iSgure before— before— and that gray hom^spanneti^ 
' > ■ shawj.s I have seen that before-r-before. 



'm'^:rm 



fDjd.Lpot^elp.to card the sheep's wool » of that gray!;. 



NBW YORK HOTBL SOEUB 



N liomespunnen shawl some place? Did I not rattle down 
that wool yam on the spinning-wheel, drawing out the 
smooth, snow-white "triller/' and singing : 




"Spinn, spinn, doteren min, 
I morgon nammer friaren din, " - 

Dock flickan pan spanzack tararn a roun, 
Man friarer, friaren come eckex^ahaun,*' 

someplace? I cannot recall. ' ^ 

"Who are you and how did you come into the room? j 

The chain was on the door when I fell in sleep. What do :| 

you want? You are sitting on my feet — remove your /^ 

shawl so as I can see your face. Are you afraid to show ^ 'I 

your face? Answer, I say, or it must be something radi- J 

cally wrong about you. They sent you after me, I per- ;| 

ceive. We 11 see about that^ Hand me the matches from 
the mantel. No? Well, I can get them myself. I need a^ 
puff, anyhow.*' ; ' 

I striked a match and held it over toward the bed. The 

figure was there. I burnt my fingers. "The devil," I 

thought, as I struck another match. The figure, like int 

the Eden Mus6e, was absolutely human-like, but without a 

quiver or move. Ghost stories,-^they are cmly 'Stories 

though? Again the room was in darkness and; I; was 

shivering all oyer. * / ^ ' * ' • I 

• "SpesJc or begone, woman," I hissed, "or I'll knock yott ' 1 

out. In my stocking is my money," I thought j "I wishi . J 

it wasn't. Miserable being, come here "to me, and III 

:-fightyoul . ' ."' .■'"''^'r''':^-' '''v---:^ ./<^v.-;^rv -/..^J 

"Say your baby prayer, Ada,^'Taar,t war-* sam-ar'' £. ,5^^ 

himmden. . Heligaattwarde- dittriamhi,"' I'^said, , and ' Q^ 

slowly drawed my head, tbwaifd the'^bed to -hear^ thes 

woman's breathing./ She had ndj|}reath.-^ Npl T^^w^^ : 

intensely keen ears,* heard no orii' breathiiig in th^ roomv. 

but I perceived that the figure Was still sitting there,' 

/; "Tillcamae, ditt rike'ack^she'^din >d je/ '^ Du * some i 

himmelen soi ack pa jorderi^'^- 1' said^^jatiid took a step 

toward the bed. ?'Tartal;ass alla"wara'l5yhder--Gif ass i 

/;; dag worth dagliga brod ack war* mad asi ass alia lider," I 

^Vsaid and reached out and <?aught a hold of the mute figure . ; > 

-on the. bed and felt nothing — saw nothing, 'I struck * -J 






^•iy;>' . .'.' . • r- ."•'.' ^ »■■.;•••••• * : 

^ ^38 THB BIOOEAPHY OF A 

f^y^ Aifter some little time *'das dumme Frauenzemer" came 
JV; in and hit the leader of music in the eye and broke his 
fe%^' glasses, and as he was helpless without his glasses J and 
^^;' ^ the kitten were compelled to help the leader of music to 
P ''• his lodgings. 

r^;: ; To make a long story short, the leader, the cat and I 

' "doubled up and went light housekeeping, and thought 

"that we were happy, but as all good leaders of music 

■ smoke. cigarettes and drink ^r from early morning to 

late at night, through him I acquired the habit. I drank 

beer and smoked cigarettes from early morning to late at 

night, and got myself into such a miserable state that even 

<i^:;;, Reagan^ at 27 Bowery, refused me an engagement, and I 

f 4\ .' ^as no good any more, but as something had to be done 

;^ r so I could make some money, as I wanted that residence 

'{;: ■ on Fifth Avenue, I thought I'll invest my saved together, 

hard-earned cash in real estate. 

As Rocks, as I will call him after this, wanted me to. 

V invest in the delicatessen business, we argued, and it took 
me nearly a half year's time before my money was in- 

,\ " *• vested properly. Then my "husband" lost his job. Yes^ 
Vf but as I was now the owner of a high stoop, four-story 
i';^ ■' brick, basement and cellar, twelve rooms and bath, all new 
,, -improvements, no yard, but a fire escape in front of the 
'>;::-: house, I did not care very much, but started in to make 
1 '' business there, and then let the leader of music help me. 

V ' The house was packed with nice people, gentlemen only, 
il^N • andwe were both in high glee, playing pinochle, petting 
|iX the cat and smoking cigarettes and working the growler, 
<^^^^ when the roof started in to leak over our heads. . 

V - ♦'The devil," I thought. "Who would have thought that 
;^*i' * a roof would leak in a house with all new improvements?" 
;C' "^ But as there was a man in the house he went up to the 
; roof and did the best he could with it, then he came down 
J and he started in to smoke cigarette?, as we had to talk the 
^^:* matter over. • 

<\ ' "Isn't these real estate agents fakes?" I said for to say 
i '■• something.'i "Yes," said Rocks, and went over to the cor- 
r>i; ;ner,store;to get a pint. The tenants complained that the 
j/fi! ^watet;,Weamed down In their beds, but as Rocks was a: 
p*!*^.^' 'good musician,^ he wasj, and t had been a good singer onee, 
^■' 'we made music every night in the parlor and the tenaiitsV 



^^4i 



'NBW TOEK HOTEL 80Bim ^^ ■.:,'''■ /^■?'^:''^:i39^-^_ 

listened the whole night and did not feel that the water 
was dripping, dripping in their faces, and so on. 

When the weather was good, which did not happen 
very often, the leader got his tools and started in to pre- 
pare to fix the roof good and solid this time, but as I and 
the cat and the can and the cigarettes and matches had to 
accompany Rocks oii the roof, so he wouldn't feel lone- 
some up there, it took some time before he was ready to 
go up, and it started in to rain again, and we had to let it 
go, and what else could we do but sit down and play 
pinochle and go and get a pint and a pack and kiss and 
make up? Still,'! was prosperous, and there was big hope , 
for me in the future, and I thought I'd better get another 
house, which I did in the same street farther down. That 
is, I leased the building and filled it with good people, and 
was just looking for another house to fill up when some - 
one handed me the Morning News and told me to read it.- 

A whole block in the street beyond my property: had. in 
the middle of the night been raided and bad characters of ^i 
all kind had been scattered 'homeless and penniless all 
over town. The man — ^what's his name? — ^needed money, 
the paper said, as he wanted to go to Switzerland in , the * 
summer and live in a high-stoop, brown-stone house— all 
improvements in the winter, had smelled rats in that 
block and put his nose into it, but made himself too nosey 
and all the unfortunate creatures were driven out in the 
rain without a wink and warning and the property stood . 
there, empty and lonely, but as the agents are wide awake 
they hired a new colored woman and took in a ton of Coke, . 
closed the doors and drew up the blinds, heated up the 
house and put out a bill saying, "Furnished rooms ; gentle- 'I 
men only. All new improvements and $1.25 and up- 
wards," and so-so. I thought $1.25 per week, JRocks and 
I with all our music-making won't be in it any more— 
neither we was. ' . >; - ^ 

Since that time I have been a bitter hater of whiskers. 
Whenever I see a whiskered man I lay for him with the 
scissors, but what good will thiat do nie? Tliat don't 
bring me back my lost wealth, neither is there any hope of 
the residence on ..Fifth Avenue, and forget him. He has 
made himself scarce, anyhow, I heard. Maybe he hides in 
tiie wildd of Switzerland^ or maybe, they lies about him^^fj 
- - . -n^h:Az -•;*-4^, Jill i^r.ki'v-- ■>^-..- :•^ . ;..>:, "yt^.^& 



40 THB BIOGRAPHY OP A . 

but what IS the difference ? He made money ; I lost, so he 
was smarter than I, $o forget him. 



^-^ - . CHAPTER V 

• ; THE ECHO FROM THE SWEDISH MOUNTAINS 

I Dro not give up then and there, and I clung to the 
property. The leader of music drank whiskey now to 
give himself brain, he said, but the more whiskey he con- 
^'/sumed the less brain he got, and in his drunken stupor he 
V^ hinted that I was not the very freshest peach in the basket, 
^•- neither was I the cream of the milk any more. Those 
^} days was passed, the whidcey in liim asserted. "I'll get 
^y rid of you," I thought, and rigp^ed him out and sent him 
i^ with the Haverly Minstr<els, which I knew would for sure 
bust on the road. Some they fire out, and I wanted never 
^^ to see him again. Can you blame me? No, of course 
: not. Never tell a wonian that she is! getting old and unat- 
I tractive, That don't work, and I think it was very ignoble 
^;j^of .the leader of music to say such mean things to his 
%^'Stella, the star who was going to be his starlight for- 
^ever,"' .•••..'.■.•■• . ' ' 
Jj,'^ Now. ni give you some fun to break the monotony. 
^!:v Ada Stella, the star, was in love for the first time. 
J; Listen stnd you shall see how it happened. The front door- 
li^jbell rang and I answered. And there he stood. Whom? 
^The echo from the Swedish mountains. • 
^ Who is that? That party I had-Hawl L. Luluaed aftier 
I'right along. Yes, I opened and gasped. "Why didn't 
l^ou show up before ?" I said in a querulot|s tone. "Wlier^ 
;■ have you kept yourself? Didn't you hear my voice howl- 
lingf for you wherever I went? Well, better late than 
g|never,:they say, and please step inside and take a rest, 
,|^s^r.!*;v\•^''., '• , . 
^V^''Takp a seat yourself, young ^1^^ and pardon me, 
|l^ madame^'' . Did Lhear a sweet, voice like yours whisper- 
^^ ing to myheart now and then ? ;,But as I am a very busy 
^^tnan 8^^^ leanied^ not to give those voices any hear- 

@' ing anyvmdi^e, and >$ intuition taught me that you were 




\ ISflSW: YORK' HOTEL SOBUB* 

^very decupled and well supplied, I lingered until now, but 
I felt that now is the time to show up, and here I am now 
for you and await your command." 

"Brain," I thought "He has brain, like my father said 
to my brother away over in Sweden one evening: 'The 

f^irl has brain and what more do they want? I am the 
ather of a praying child, my son,' he said. Was he right 
or not?" - . 

Of course you want to know what this Vmarable" looks 
like. When I start in to criticise a person I always begin 
at the lower, and, firstly, he wore commonplace, soft- 
leather shoes. I find these new styles abominable. 'It is 
something radically wrong about the man who woi*e them. 
I'll climb a little. Then there comes an evening shirt, 
stiff and stately. Then there is the head to describe, and 
I commence with the ears. The ears were deceiving, 
though, ril tell you that some other time. Blonde, curly 
hair, having the latest style of tint The forehead was 
innocent and humorous— eyes with a sad longinjf in them 
like some little children have when they are out for mis- 
chief. A beauty mole on the right cheek, a good nose, a 
teasing-looking mustache of the right kind and a chin 
-which said: "I am going to have it, but if 1 don't get it 
I don't care." That was the look of the Echo from the 
Swedish mountains. 

Fair, fat and forty, he is, I thought, and he shall be 
mine with hook or crook, and went before him up stairs 
to show him the furnished room he was looking for. He. 
rented the room from me and I was in Heaven, and after 
paying tlie $1.25 room rent required, he, with a graceful 
bow and a meaning look, said, "So long," and went off. 

Arriving in the basement I first peeped into the mirror. , 
Heavens above 1 1 was grayheaded. Well, that can be at- 
tended to. There is no color at all in my face. Well, 
that cah be attended to. Oh, dear! I am standing in a 
bent position — ^^when did I acquire that habit? Well, I'll 
get out of that at once.- 'What have I got on? Oh, my! 
A soiled blue calico wrapper. How and where and when 
did I get a calico wrapper? That won't do, Ada, and my 
finger nails ; I ought to be ashamed of myself. No more 
pints and cigarettes for me I The cigarettes stain the 
fingers arid teeth and the beer makes me blue in the face 



^. ^t^m%^^''-^-^'''^ y>^-^^-^^'^^^^" 



^'-iti : 



50 ' THB BIOORAPHT OF A 



"Yes, indeed ; but he'll bail you out when you're in the 
V : hole." 

"The gas fixtures belong to the landlord? Yes? - The 
window shades, clock and glasses, napkins, etc., you 
bought on time?" : 

"You are well informed. I did. It }s ten c^ts a week 
only, though, and you won't feel paying it." 

"Yes; I have been there. Excuse me, I always take a 
' puff when I have business before me which has to be 
attended to. Have you got a match? Thank you. Wait 
a minute, let me think a little first." 

Those fellows sitting there in the corner squinting over 
here to me and my butt remind me of Charley and his inti- 
mate friend, Whispering Jack— that fellow— he is very 
, fat and bloated, behind the coimter pretending to be busy 
— ^reminds me of honest Jack, who got me that room in 
^ the quiet house where I had so much fun that night. It 
was qiiiet there enough, What's that? Free lunch? Yes, 
well that reminds nie of the rarebit which Charley with 
his leprosy hands. dropped on the floor in front of honest 
Jack's glaring eyes, and well— — 

'The price is small indeed, but so is the saloon. I have 
to think the matter over. . I'll be back in a day or so and 
^ let. you know," • ... *; 

^ ., **Rockaway Beach! I intended to settle in Far Rock- 
away, but as there is no rocks I may as well stay where I 
am," I said to a saloonkeeper, who saw me from a dis- 
tance huddlingf along in the deep sand, and winked me into 
his place, and asked me to sit down and rest myself, 
- hoping to take in a nickel, I suppose. . ^ 

■ I rented a small hotel the siame day and paid iour hun- 
jdred dollars down on the lease. The beautiful weather 

■ changed. It commenced to drizzle a little. I ordered in 
furniture, linen, silver, etc., and paid four hundred and 

'fifty dollars down. It was raining, 1 took poissession of 
-the place and the water floated down from heaven. The 
streets \y^s fulf of streamlets; I was chilly and crept into 
,bed to get warm^ and some one knocked at the door. 
;"Come in/' I called out, and the ddor opened and in walks. 
my old friend, holiest Jack. IJe was ^i man who under- 
stood his^ business,:-;., ^r^ i^^'^q^'OU- -v •. . ^:-v. r^ i ."'.'■ , 




^ : ^ NEW TOBK HOTBL SCRUB " 

:^ "I suppose you are dry, jack ; get a few bottles of bcer>: 

then sit down and tell me all about it." • - '' 

He did. He won. Why not ? He is Norwegian,' and' 
Pm only Swede. Some time after this I stood in a street 
in New Yoir k City, homeless, hatless, penniless, bald and 
half blinded from crying, and not a butt in my pocket, r g 
No, sir, not a butt in my pocket, not the smallest scrap of ^;' * 
tobacco I can feel. "Not a butt, not a butt, not a butt in i^ 
my pocket," I moaned and sank down on a doorstep and ,r | 
fell in sleep. : 7t^ 

'Take a move.on you there or FU lock you up. I know i^ 
you are an old offender in this neighborhood-remove on, >J-I 
or ril lock you up." said a cop, and swinged his club in a '^^ 
threatening manner. • j-^ 

"Yes, sir," I said, "you do know me, and I know you.'' J' 
4 I tried to struggle on my feet, but sank dowii again. "Has ; -r-'i 
it come to this ?" I thought and looked before me, I was 7^^ 
sitting in front of my foi-mer home. That tall four-story :•/% 
brick building had been mine once. That high stoop I 'r<^ 
could sit on as much as I wanted. Them dirty basement 'J 
windows I had been washing many and many a time, and / (;*: 
that roof up there, ah, could I go up there with the cat and ' -:• 
the can and watch the violin player mending the roof and ; .- 
smoke cigarettes and drink beer, and kiss the cat and kiss ■,. r •'J 
me ? "Ah, God, let me die !" I moved and looking at the . i^^ 
cop, who was still standing near me, I slowly walked y 'J- 
hence until I came to the next avenue, and there L sat. *^i| 
down on another doorstep and wept, hiding my face from '■^, 
the pedestrians passing. , ^ 7^ f i 

"Excuse me, cbuld you tell me where there is an intej- . ^^ ^ 
Hgence office?" -• * * *, /^^ 

'*I cannot see very well, but I think it is one across the' 
street" • :* 'v/; 

"Let's go over there. I hate to go alone,' but Imllst; ; 
.have something to do, and you also, 1 suppose." 

"Yes," I said, and we both went in and climbed up the ■ 
stairs and entered the office. ...\ , 

"Got a place for you," the lady attendant said. "One 
dollar, please. You have not a cent in your pocket? Well, 
I am going to trust you as an exception. You look as if ^ 
jTou are going to pay ine when yoU have money.' Yes? . ; 
"Veil, here is the address on my card^'^They are^always 



you 
Wc 



^m.- 






: r^-^^^:. 



^54 



^tBM BIOGEAPHT OF A 



'isfrort on help there; so you are sure to be accepted. BcJ 
sure to come and pay me when it is pay-day," 

"Yes/' i said and crept downstairs. Arrived in the 
street, I asked of some one to read the address for me, as 
J could not see to read. 

^ > "Buckingham Hotel, 50th Street and Fifth Avenue." 
^ "I wonder/' I thought; "I wonder what that can be/' 
and Walked ahead until I came to the place, Buckingham 
Hotel. "Here it is/' I ejaculated and walked in the front 
entrance. A large fellow with white gloves on his hands 
turned ftie around and told ine to go through the base- 
ment. ' I did and stood by the door and waited. 

"Do you want to see the housekeeper?" some^ one 
asked me. 
■ "Yes/' I said, for to say something; - 

*'Well, go over there and wait awhile, and she will see 
you/' V 

I was accepted and my home was on Fifth Ayenue. I 
resided on Fifth Avenue indeed, after all, but not as a 
property owner, society woman or a recluse either, but as 
one of the scrubbers in the Hotel Buckingham. 

CHAPTER VI 

t^e interest on the mortgage-^the composition of 
"my husband's dream" 



''^f: A CENT was lying on the table before me where I was 
y.* sitting. My trunk was full of ragged clothing. The rent 
fpr my small hall room was due in a few days and— I 
; was starving I ■ 

"Shall I buy a roll or the morning paper for the 
penny?" I thought. The thought of a fresh roll tempted 
\- me^-but as the morning paper was my only hope, I went 
and got- it and sat down to study the lUlvenisements* . , 

H; J^'Dlshwasher wanted, Come ready for work ; five a week, 
and meals/'-/ - ? " , . . 

^- •.-.-^^"-' ■:.; -;.>---:•:•:•■;• / ;•/• .. -.• . 

'^ ' Meals, m^Is, yes, I am coming', and I lifted the lid of 
my bettered trunk in the hope jto ^nd an apron suitable idr . 
'the position; > My hand caught hold of a shabby-lookiqg. ; 



>::/tv^ 




• !? V V :/ NBW YORK HOTBIr SOEITB 

y bundle. Outside of the bundle I read the words, //Adai 
save this." 

Pshaw I Save! What good did all my saving and / i 
scraping and saving do me ? I have lost everything I had ' 
in the world. And wiping my streaming eyes, I threw ■ 
the bundle over on the bed and sank down in the chair % 
behind- me, wondering where I could obtain a calico 
apron. ;; 

Looking over the room, on the rags hanging around, 
my eyes again fell on the small paper bundle on the bed. 
"Ada, Ada, do save this," I imagined the letters pleaded. ; 
My eyes stuck fast on the words. There was a strange • V 
pleadmg appeal in those long shaky strokes written with 
a bad pen. Where and when could I have made that --, 
bundle? I thought, and rose and peeped into a closet, if 
there was nothing at all left to eat, as my stomach plagued 
me with hunger. A crust of bread, a raw potato and an 
onion I found. Bully for yoU, Ada, you saved that for a 
rainy day ; yes you did. I know you did. Well, that will 
feed me for to-day. I really would like to take a look / 
in that bundle. How shall I cook that onion and the po- 
tato? The oilstove is empty. Glory! There is the lamp 
and a little oil in it still. I placed my provisions over the 
lamp to boil, then reached for the bundle, opened it aiic < 
read:- ■ .• ••.;." •■\ 

"Sea Beach, Pabst Hotel, Coney Island. 
"Dear Madam: 

"I should take it as a favor if you would grant me a ^ 
copy of 'My Husband's Dream.';, I arti a composer niy- ? , 
self, and so, pleased to play new works of others*' I am f ^ 
yours sincerely, • . .1. JpsB Blood.'' • f ^ 

I rose and took a look at the tomato can on the lamp; 
the potato and onion were cooking fine. He is a com- 
/ poser himself? And wants a copy of a dream. .That is* 
too difficult to figure put on an empty sfpniach. I'd better , 
eat my potato first. There was no old love letters in the : 
bundle, only a scrap of paper with the -words "Howl L. 
lulua" marked under with kisses, whatever that meant< and 
ahothef scrap of paperwith the words "Leila S./^also . ; 

" .kissed.' The rest was rubbish only;^ Had I not found that 

• • * • ■',.',' ■ . ■ . * ' • •• * > * ' . " 

■'"•'■ '\ '. ' j» ■ " *^ ' '^ 

•■ ^\ '^ • ."■' • ■ '■ ;■ • ' ' ■- ■■■ .- (^ 



\ 



"^^ 



ft.: 



H. 



;. ;^ .158 ' ' V THH BIOGRAPHY OF X 

^ \ . potato I would now have been on my way to work I Sorry, 
sorry indeed. That potato was a Jonah to me and so - % 
was the onion. What is that ? : Another scrap of paper, .... 
J; X Something of a copy of a dream again. I can't make it 
^"" out: The paper is too greasy, and— and — ^it smells from 
beer. -It is a letter. well enough, but, but, there is neither 
commencing or end to it — ^it is seemingly torn off . 
The potato was a Jonah but it feels well in the stomach. . 
^;- • I try and figure out what this exceedingly dingy looking . . 
paper has got to say about this dream. 

''When resting in Atlantic City I met with a gentleman 
f'--'^ and his wife by the name of Speer. They had a copy of 
yoiir composition, 'My Husband's Dream.' We looked it 
over and thought it very pretty. You would greatly favor 
^y= me if you would send me a copy ... leave for Europe 

. . .return in a few years '\ That was all I cotUd 

make out. 

I have a whole day to figure. out what those two men 
mean about this dream. It's one of my many names well 
enough. They meant me, well enough. I'll bite that hard 
1^]- bread also. That might give me a little more brain. 
>^**^ I was the owner of a small house and lot in the heart of 
V^' New York City. My neighbor needed that small piece of 
0:, ' ground to benefit his own holding arid he was still angling 
*t^ ' to get it. Yes, he wanted that lot and was going to have • 
|l'> * it by hook or crook. 

p^ :j^ I had no near friend nor relation and although 1 had a 
husband,-! may say I was alone in that house, which I 
had. let out for furnished rooms. This way I have man- 
^ aged well enough, but I was sick, very sick. Solid food 
f,^> never entered my mouth. I lived on what I could swallow 
dowit without chewing it, and that, of course, by degrees, 
got myself into a terrible state.. I. became exceedingly 
nervous and suffered with intense chijls; lameness, lum- 
bago and insomnia. I spent most of my time huddled up 
in. a corner near the grate fire,, trying to heat me, and 
becamqwarm on one side, but as the door of the room was 
opened continually,, as Iliad so many .visitors going in and 
duty and they never thought of, closing the door behind 
them, I shivered fearfully on one ^^s^^ All V 

■ those visitors,' who insisted one,by/one:that,he,6r she was . 
^the only^inqefe friemi I(ba<i^% \ 



^ 7 ' . N^^'YOBKiHOTBL SOBtJB 

^ ingly* poor like myself but rather beery. They needed 
food, shelter and drink and did not care to work and /^ 
earn it, and by degrees they smuggled themselves into ; *^ 
tny well wishes, saying they strived hard to obtain work ^*r.'.\1J 
but could not get it^nd did not care, as they said they ts 
enjoyed themselves so much in my company, and had to ■ .-'% 
be around me so they could show their devotion by look- 
ing after my welfare. . . . r^ 

Among those friends was a lady in particular. "Call ■ \ ■: 
me anything else,'^ she used to say, "but don't call me by ' 
my rijght name." So I shall introduce her to you by the ^ 
tiame of Elsa Banana. - 

This Elsa ^anana was well known in the neighborhood 
and was nicknamed '"the walking gin mill;" also known. > . 
as the banker's daughter. This lady was exceedingly in- 
telligent, was the possessor of a good tongue, and some 
' education, which I was myself, consequently we sympa-v 
thized that two such wonderful women as her and I 
should be down in life. A beautiful grate fire would de- 
light Elsa like myself, artd there we would sit and talk 
and look and study that grate fire — that is, when there 
was one, until we were, so infatuated in that grate fire and 
imagined that she and I could see our darling:s and. their 
doings when they neglected us too much and we did not ^r^ 
see them day after day, and did not know where they . ; '/' 
could be found. ' ' *. .,- 

When there was no coal .in the cellar, or rags or old . : »* 
shoes, or anything at all to burn in the grate— then she Cv ^o^ 
would handle the cards, ' ■ ■ ' ' V/ r " Vt^ 

. "I am born with a veil," she used to say. ' "I can look s ^ ^^'^ 
into the life of bthefs, not through the cards but byvin^^' / ' 
stinct, as when J slumber.'. I see everything before me:. ;' 
then, tliough I hope^yes, I hope that! may be. mistaken ^.^ " 
. in the visions I see before my facei*-^ They are,; homd,:: :;U 
horrid for both you and I-^for, you in particular. - If - yoii ;' 
are ordained to pass through what I seie in^my slumber; I 
pity you indeed — I pity ypu indeed, and I .hope it is only i 
visions, delusions wrought from an over worried brain." :^ 

'When I thought it the: right time:;Ior me toget some?/ 
sleep, I had observed that there was sleej) to be obtained 
through beer or porter;: that is, if there wis no liew great - : 
y worriment on my mind'and the house was very quiet, a : 






^-^ ^ ■^■:; x^; M^Mm^^mMM 




J&g ' iTHB BIOiSiAPHY OF A X 



couple of fi^lasse^ of beer or porter would make me drowsy 
and I would slumber for a while. I accordingly was com- 
pelJed to get it now and then/ Mostly I did so in the 
middle of the night/ thinking that no one' obsierved me. 
Bui they did, and thought me a most wicked woman to 
slink out with the tin can at such hours in the night and 
that miserable condition I was in, crooked up, sooty from 
meddling with the grate, trying to make it go from noth-. 
ing with my poor, lame, frozen fingers, then absentmind* 
edly attending to my poor leaking nose and dripping eyes 
when there was no rag near at hand. 

I was certiainly a sight and I don't blame them for gos* 
sipping, but I was at such times always interrupted by 
poor Elsa rapping on the basement window for admit- 
tance from the cold and for to take some slumber, as she 
had met with neither her husband or the man in the ''Old 
Willow Tree Inn," and had to go into a somnambulistic 
condition to see where they could be found. I regretted 
to be interrupted in my sleep, but was also glad because 
when Elsa wagged that brain and tongue of hers she was 
I a great consoler in my trouble. • ^ 

; '*I must have money," I isaid to Elsa, one night when I 
opened the basement door to let herein. '*I must have 
money — ^no matter from where or how, I'll get it. Money 
I must and shall have, some way or other, He shan't have 
this house if I can possibly help it. Elsa, money is needed* 
■Tell me how I can make it" 

"Why don't you write for the magazines? — ^you have 
ample time to do it You are a wonderful woman, and a 
brainy woman — write for the magazines instead ot wast- 
ing your time in entertaining those people who you^know 
well enough are only a detriment to you. I am the onjy 
'devoted friend ^ou have. - Yes, .write, woman, write. 
That's the only way to make money. now. The Literary 
Digcst-?-no, the Town Topics* is sure to accept your 
writing and Charley will be your assistant > He knows 
; every episode in your life from here to away over in the 
-i deepest >ilds of Sweden and Norway by. heart-K)ught to 
^— and Instead of sittingthereaiidsuckinp^onthat. empty' 

fipe, and agreeing with you ^ith his baby l^s— baby eye* 
mean^he may jiist ;as welI^vdpi;SQmething to help^ you 
aJonR'—^and whatever you do ^'orMonY do; don't eive' nr> 



n 



KBW TpMEcHQTBL'iSOBUB 

.y .■.'■'■'■'•', ■■• ■ "'• .•-■' ■ ■-■ • ''-"^ •-...■■ ;■ ' < "^'i-^';^^ 

' your home— home, Ada. You don't know what- it meaniv^ 
^ Uo be without a home. I knoW; How I have suffered, hp.w * 
I have suffered-^through him — through him, my darling. 
He got from me all I had-^my diamoftcfs, my money, my 
wardrobe, fourteen double-sized trunks I had when I left 
England, and now? Now, what am I but a. homeless * ^^ 
tramp, cast on the mercy of others, a blindf older,, a . .;^ 
schemer, a fortune-teller and humbug, a fake and. a 
drunkard, and — ^and-«^and, oh, oh,— oh — oh — oh, how I 
love him still r 

I did try to write, but to write stories as a beginner in 
a furnished house for light housekeeping people is im- 
possible, as there is a oontiiiual trouble of some kind — ; ^ . :? 
poetry in a house like that, no hope until one evening my 

- tenant yelled down that the bathroom was out of order. I 
could not afford to mingle with plumbers, so lalways^ 
attended to that myself. But my stomach was weak just 
then — ^Ict them wait, though. Let them,^S— — , suffers for 
a while. Ill creep down in the cellar and hide. They'll 

, think 1 am out. And in that cellar was this seemingly 
much-sought- for "My Husband's Dream" composed.. . ^^ 
Yes, in that old cellar, huddled up on an old straw mat-;^ 3^ 
tress and the heavy bed comforter over my head, and. ** 

shivering most unmercifully, I composed part of "My 
Husband's Dream," but as bad luck always followed me .. 
up, before I had thought out the end some imagination, L . ^/>^r*.i 
think, got into my head. Elsa, my bosom friend, inter* * ': ''"^ 

' rupted me with her screeching voice, asking if I wa?-' 
down therci I became wild witih rage. . ■*/# 

"Consider yourself dead now, woman I You are dead ^ -j^^ 

already. Come here to me* Your croaking yoice inter- .\^-[:'^'-^ 

fered with my business. I was making money. Hand me 

that kitchen table-leg there, and come here to me. I coUld 

have bought all the gin in the United States for the money 

I was making here on the mattress; yes, as the gres^test, 

poet of the world and gin would have beert floating right ^ ^v ^ 

and left Come here, I say! and I'll give you a swallow* • -i: 

and a nickel for your sip you came for": <^'- *. .: . , 

My thouc^hts had been on the bjtthroom plumber* bills,; 

light housekeeping people, money lenders,: lawyers' bills,, . 

' real estate fraud Gharleyiand the gre6n-eyed monster; 

It was not dreams. I was making down there. It was 



'■i 



^'Si^-.f'i^'^^f' 



m — 



(iO A 1 rTHH BIOOBAPHT OP A 

justice, vengeance or something like it I was manufac- 
turing on that mattress, but justice and vengeance or ven- 
geance and justice has never been fully produced yet and ,. . 
likely never will be. How it canie to be a dream. Elsa . . 
told Charley when they met in a saloon of the occurrence 
in the cellar. Two heads know more than one. I was out 
of niy mind, of course, and they both were watching me 
after that. I took in some money by letting the front par- 
lor to some professional singers, and sent Charley down.. 
town to divide it among my many money lenders, and 
thinking deeply of the quarter he would receive so as he 
could go and get hi§ bosom shirt from the Chinaman 
when he returned with good news, he made thiem give me 
black and white that I was not to be threatened with let- 
ters for a whole month to come, and "one month, you 
know, means lots/' he said, and got his quarter for his 
"bosom shirt. • ' 

"ril show you both if I am crazy or not," I thought, 
M^hen Charley and Elsa and I were sitting there and noth- 
ing doing, I stood up to surprise them by reciting my 
inspiration in the cellar, and there I stood in the middle of 
the room, facing the firegrate, which was seemingly the 
cause of the Jealousy, devil and devilment I mumbled to- 
gether on the mattress in the cellar, and dramatically I 
reached out my arm toward .the grate and commenced : 

"Weary of toil my wife sank on a carpet near the grate 
fire — fire — fire," I said. The fire was out and the grate 
:was full of ashes and half-burned coke, and did not in- 
spire me, but reminded me of the empty coal bin in the 
•cdlan Carpet? Carpet? Where arti I ? The carpet had 
not been swept for a long time and did not invite me to 
rest on it before the grate and black .hole leading. up 
■through the dirty mantel roof and crooked its way up and 
down and right and left until it reached up to the roof in 
my tall old building, its destination the broken-down 
cliimney-piece. . -^ . • . '.• .. " . 

A heavy snore from Elsa*s chair, where she was sitting 
in a somnambulistic condition; drew my attention in that 
<]irection. . ./ * , '"^- :r '^' r . ^ 

**aean the grate; and sweep/ the carpet, and Hgfit the , 
fire, and do something ior your lodging, or get,' ' I yfclled , ; 
at her.;/- - . ■ .'"■■:- -i-i-:-*"''-" ''■".■ ■ '.■-. :''•' "'-.'' 




•"^ "•/'"-■■-^ '■'■•/•'■'' ^NBW-TORK^HOTfiL' scrub" ^ ''v;'* '■''v'•■f61• 
^^ "Never mind, Ada," said. Qiarley, "sonie other time 
will do very well. Can you spare the price ?" 

"Ceitainly,^^ I said, and handed him a dime, and he 
went to the corner JBtore. ' 

"Charley," I spoke up to him one day wh$n he was 
sitting there looking at me, "draw the .window blinds up. 
Draw the table near the window ; get the tin can good and 
full — ^place it on thfe table near the window, so it can be 
seen from the street, then sit down again and see how. it 
works. You have to attend to the basement bell." ',>.| 

Right enough. There was the basement bell ringing. 'I 

"'Attend," I said. ' |l 

"How are you, Josey?" * • I 

- "I had a strange dream about you, Ada, and as I am the ' | 

only true and sincere friend you have in this world I had 
to come and see. you. You look ten years younger. Are 
you working, Charley ? How are you, Elsa ? I'm sorry I 
jiaven't got tlie price ** 

"There is a can full waiting for yiC>u. How is your 
. husband?" 

"Well; he went to look for work. I told hini to meet 
me here. There, he is coming." 

"How are you, Kitty. Have a beer? tt'was wiaiting ;i;-^^ 
for you. Ah, there is my brother-in-law!" I ejaculated; V v^'f 
"Have a beer ? It was waiting for you, Larseri. How are . >' - :^5 
things with you ? How is your brother ?" 

"He went to look about hid license. I told him tomeet . . , ^ 
me here-^e is coming." " ; • -^^^j 

"How are you, Larsen? Have a beer; it was waiting " 
for you. What, the can empty? Well, go and get an-" 
other." .V,. 

"Your dream, Josie Staley! You dream has come 
true, and here it is," and then I stood up before my many .. 

friends and recited: •' .. . . ; V. 

• ■•■'.•.■ '-.'■■•. ' • •> 

Weary of toil, my wife sank on a carpet* near the grate- 
■. , '- '■ fire;/' . '■. "^ .'-■'' ^'^ ''•* " •""■'• ..-^r:* 
So innocent and trusting she had always been tome ;^ -ii 

- I thought myself a man, but we kngw that' Satail does-; v " 
• ••• i . ■ ' insfjire . ■ '"'-■'■ ' \\ -y^''':^ ' •"' •' •'•/'... 

, ,: : The best of men. on earth ; he was my steady company,.; 






:^jis:}^^^^MMM^ 



jfijs*<v:-i*^^'^-^'**|^l^ . ■ ^;--v^f?^^' 



«•■ 



;;• B!8|'%^ • THB BIOGRAPHY OF X / 

- . Heeiitered here one night in the form of a youn^ womain. 
k . Think! just one floor above where my sweet tired wife . 

g,V-"" .■ : . laidat rest-'-.- 
't > And her tittle-tattle frieiid with her never ceasing "tea 

•jX V •■..■. ■-•"Can . ^ .. ; .-.-.'. 

V/'-^- Passed the door and saw the young girl fast to my 

;|t' "^ . k)Som pressed, /. 

'^B\'-' Forever must I moan and grban upon my sweetheart's 

^A-';-'''-.- g^^y^' •..•.■■.,■. 

' t Can this now be the fault of me that badly I behave? 

( - " . Her heart was pure, my action base, 

Could she endure my sin to trace? > . 

: No. and I kneel and mourn and weep upon her griave. 

f:: They say that heaven can relieve all earthly human 
:; / sorrow, 

:f. , I with bad repentance gained forgiveness by thee ; 

Miraculously send to me what lies in this deep furrovv, 
;' . O God, with bended knees I pray, give Ada back to me. 
I:--.-- I see her face — ^through mould and clay her yearning eyes 
:'.' beseech me. 

^r To pray and hope united we beyond the grave will be : 

rt(is V -'Charles, old boy, the woman's dead, a drink will stimu- 
(S^ :■.;■ late: thee. 

A master stroke, you took the glass and sold your soul 
>-;f:; • .tome;- 

i^: And you shall istay and mourn. and weejp upon that 
t^; . woman's grave, 

^i Arid know that's the fault of me, that badl3r you behave ; 
Your heart was pure, my action base, 
:.v Could she endure your sin to trace? . 

No; so kneel and moym and weep upon her grave.** 

••.;•' ^ ■• . . ■ " " , ■ • . ■• i 

What does it mean, what can it be^— have I so long been 
'^ » ' sleeping, 

^ i And J where is she, my darling wife, my treasure and 
' / ^/xnyJoveh ': , J l.\ ■ ■.:■'■' 

I dreamt I was in sorrow and in agony and weeping, <. 

;; And she was with the angels in the h^yen high above, 
,' Ah, here she is, I.hear her voiced she's. softly to me singing*'^. -. , 
She will forgive as she ; has* done, she is: ixomOoAt v ^ 
■^r^'x' ordained;^ '^)..i:%'y •: -^v-j^^.;-- --• ^•■* -'. * '' • *■ •• ' '"■' 



n 






To purify me; wicked man/I practice inebriating, V v.- ^r 
^ Intoxicated^ beastly full, I fell asleep and dreamed, '-'^'. 
That she was dead and I, myself, was raving on her grave*, 
Caii this,.man, bethe fault of mine that so beastly L 
behave? 

Her heart is pure, my action base ; ^ 

I must start in m^ sin to trace, 
Or ril mourn and weep and moan upon her grave. 

"A genius ! A star ! A poetess for fair and for good !"* 
they all yelled out in ecstacy after they had first emptied . 
their cups and glasses, and refilled them again. "Our 
friend is a wonderful woman, and I'll treat. Where i^ 
Charley?" 

"I'll tell you what to do, Ada," my brother-in-law spoke 
up. "Make some music to that song, have it printed, and 
come over to my saloon and sing it. That'll draw k 
crowd j The Swedish sailors will all buy a copy each, a . 
dollar a. copy, and if not Til make them. That song is 
great. It is a Sara Bernhardt lost in you, Ada. Why: 
didn't you stay on the Bowery where you belong, instead 
of investing in real estate? I'dori*t know what it is all 
about, but you need money and so do Ij and what is th^ 1. 
difference if they understand it or not as long as we get . ;^, 
the money?" 

As I had known my brother-in-law to be a good hustler 
I thought I'd take his advice. I sat up the whole night 
and wrote down the rudiments to the tnusic, with the. 
assistance of my zither, and the following morning I wentf • ■ \-^ 
down town and found a publisher by the name of H — r-^ 
and for the sum of thirty dollars he asserted that he was 
. capable to make a wonderful piece of work from the rudi- 
ments I showed him and I was, of course, in high glee. 

About thirty days after this occurrence, coming ;.ttp» 
from the cellar, I heard Elsa playing th^ Tannenbaum, an 
old German melody, on the piano. I took the broom arid 
hit with the handle in the ceiling, as 1 wa.S not in the , 
humor to listen to it. ^ . * ^ V * 

"Why, Adaj that's your music from the composer. It* 
. just arrive.d and I thought Td try it. The music is rather 
laniiliar— I think it is pretty, though*" ' > ^i 

"Familiar and pretty, though. Are you not fooling me»^ 1 

•*" '" '.•:...; •*. ■ •'• "^ ■ - .-• ■■' •■'. '•■ ■ ) 






?^^?^ 






>ii^/ff*^^4 JTI 



, ^^0^:^^^?..^^^.^ ^S^V 



'<B4 



THB ^liDGRAPHT OF A 



Elsa ? You don't mean to say tliat you were playing 'My . 
^Husband's Dream* just now. You frighten me."- 

"Gome up and play it yourself, and you'll see if I am 
fooling or not." ^ 

"God, oh, my God! What is to be donfe now? Every- 
thing will be taken away from me if I. don't show up with 
smne money soon. They will come up after the piano and 
the rest will follow. Why, Elsa, that isn't even my own . 
words, at least they are topsy turvy. He'll foreclose the 
property on me — water, Elsa! I am dying/' 

"Ada, pshaw! That's nothing," said Elsa, "the man 
lia» to return the thirty. I'll make him. And the mort- 
gage-holder will have to give you more time. What is 
the matter with them down there, anyhow? The prop-* 
crty improves most wonderfully in value, and I don't see 
-^ive me a nickel and I'll be off and be back as soon. 
^s I can/' ' 

Elsa went, but took a peep into the Old Willow Tree, . 
land returned hours and hours after that, beastly 
intoxicated. 

"Ill let you know in a couple of days," J said to my 
mieiglibor, who rang the basement bell and inquired if I 
felt inclined to take the price he had offered. He could 
stand in his entrance and hear everything that was going 
■on in my basement. ^ 

**Skip, man,". I said then, and wrote to all my debtors, 
again and gained a few days' time, with more, interest to 
]>e paid to tihe "halsabschneeders." I let Elsa sleep off her 
Jag and went up to set the front parlor aright, as it was 
,;^gaifi idle and had to be rented. A lady upstairs came 
: into the parlor to get her mail. 

'^What is that?" she said, looking at the pile of music 
lying on the piano, and I told her of my misfortune by 
^: Ae composer. 

^'Give me a sheet and I'll show it to my husband," she 
said- ''He writes his pwn music for the stage-^we are 
theatrical and leave here for Atlantic City. I'll let you 
Icnow what; my husband thinks of ypur poem before we\ 
leave your hpuse.". .;, \y - v - ' ' 
■ t A week later they said adieu and left for Atlantic City, 
and did not allude to. my corpppsition whatever, and I 
^took it for granted that I'd bitter forgret it, and so that 



•,,-■,_ •■ '■ . • . . /: I ■ ■ '■■ ■;:■ "-r '■ '• :\-:)'\ 
V v&y evening burned my thirty dollars' worth of fame and" 
> fortune in tfie grate, sitting and watching my great plan 
r fly away forever. 

It Was now August and I did all I could with the house, 
trying to get a better class of tenants in the future. I was 
just busy painting tlie grating of my basement window 
v/ith some Paris greeri which I found ifi the cellar, and 
wHicli apparently had been lying there for years. 

I drew forth a lot of comment from tlie passers-by, of 
course, seeing a woman painting tlie outside of a house^ 
but I closed my ears and painted away. A painter's' 
wagon came along and stopped in front of the house. 
The men watched me for a while with curiosity. They ^ 
seemed to be arguing that I was meddling with what they 
should have done, and they called out, asking if I be- 
longed to tlie Union. This joke drew a lot of children on 
the street around me, and my neighbor, whom I dreaded 
more than my mortgage-holder, also on the sccqe. The 
letter carrier 'came and handed me a letter anet^ glad to 
find an excuse to enter the house, I took the fettec and 
went inside. 

I threw the letter upon the table witliout footang^atit 
I thought it came from down town, as usual,, and that I 
knew its contents. I sat. down in tne corner and waliched^^ 
the children, hoping they would soon disappear, so sfes l':M§: 
could finish my job, and then I saw my friend Elsa stalk- f-*^ 
ing in on her high heels, muttering to herself as she saw , 
the new line my industry had taken. She was sober. . 

"You are a wonderful woman," she said. "Wliy. don't 
you open the letter and read it?" 

"What is the use of reading it? There isn't a cent iii 
my pocket What " ^ 

"Dear Madam : — When resting in Atlantic City I met 
"With a gentleman and his wife by the name of Specr* 
They had a copy of your composition, 'My Husband s 
Dream.' We^ — -" 

. "Hold your terrible gin gape, woman! My dream, my 
dream! They had a copy of my dream- 



it over and thought it exceedingly pretty and 



"We looked i{^ A 
I you would ^'' *'4 

- '-"'./V.'x.' •J 






^66 OHB BIOORAPHT OF l! ' o; 

^eatly favor me if you would send me a copy before I ^ 

■ ' sail for Europe with a theatrical company '^ 

"What is the matter with you, Ada ? Are you dying ?" 

"Heavenly angels look down upon Mrs. Speers and the 

xnan and the copy, and the banker's daughter. Elsa, here 

is a nickel. I had one, but was afraid to let you know. 

Go and get it, and leave me alone for awhile. My Lord, 

my Lord! Taker my humble thanks out from the depths 

. of my broken heart. Can you bless people on earth like 

that? What can I do for you in return? Put it into my 

heart, as I am not clever in doing what is right. Shall I 

stop that horse-beating out there? Yes^ Shall I put the 

stableman who owns tibe horses on the bum ? Yes ? Am I 

% ,' -allowed to go to Udewalla in Sweden and pray on my 

« mother's grave? Yes? Can I drop a nickel to the little 

f* starving diildren on the street wherever I go? Yes? 

iV .Whenever I meet with a miserable unfortunate drunken 

r . <^^ can I give him a dime for good luck? Yes? If 

J see a bad boy. torture a homeless cat or dog, can I lick 

liim ? Yes ? Will I rent a large Magazine some place and 

<an I there preach and tell the people what I think? Yes? 

^And whioit I think, is it right? I tiiink so, let me hear it.'' 

"I shall prove the needless terror of hell, if one live in 

^^ ighteousness ; tliat You have given us Paradise already 

^^Jpn 'earth ; that is, if your heart is free from sins and with- 

jS^^out Temorse and regret, and that money is not everything. 

»MA little money, isn't it ? Yes, and that they must not think 

.! ^'ihat to obtain money they dare rob and swindle themself 

- ^f to it, thinking we will have time enough to say a prayer 

^/v^tefore we die, and we will be forgiven. You ain't such a 

" -softy as that, sir. No, and that they ought to pass 

J^rough the same misery which they have , inflicted on 

S'-oAieris before. You are going to forgive them? Yes? 

: And will you forgive me that I was a Boweiy dive singer ? 

"Yes? ?ut let me hear the reason why you sang on the 

Bowery. , 

'^'Because I worshipped my mother, but I was tore 

Y: va^nst her. She had belittled me jand I wanted vengeance 

Ff .: and justice. My mother told her frieilds that I was no 

'one and nobody. 1 was wilful,^ she said — a sloth, good 
















L(V\iof.'npthing but climbing tocks,v trees and playing with 
Y .-*?the'b6ys instead of the girls'j that I always looked untidy. 



r..^'- 



• V . • .■ ■_ -■ . . ,, ' , ^ •■•'■; ' ■-.',. ;•.':*.■' 

neglected my little sister and lived on grass only. I'll -^/^ 
^ show you, mother. I thought how you have wronged i J 
me, that I can do more than climb rocks and play with 
the boys. I can sing, mother, and go to home and kiss \ , 
ftnd hug you, but I wanted to make a hit. I wanted to be ; ' 
dressed magnificently then — finest of linen, the finest vel- " 
vet and cashmere, exquisite colors — ^things that no one 
else could buy. My only perfume was the gentian, Johaii 
Maria Farina — ^all others offended my nostrils. I wanted . 
a diamond on my finger, purest water, a riiby in my , 
locket. I wanted trunks full of books by my favored 
writers, pictures a la Quintian. My dear sir, talking 
about Quintian, I am telling you a lie, sir, and I cotMd 
cry when I see your beautiful vision up there, like Quin- 
tian did, but I did not mean to lie. It was in Germany, on 
the Rhine, I was, when building these castles in the air- 
not on the Bowery. I went on the Bowery later and after 
you got sore on me for being too proud and punished me 
for it. But didn't I suffer bravely, though ? Yes, and 
the Echo from the Swedish mountains. May I— — " 

"Hush, he's coming. Get up and don't let him see that ., 
you are as crazy as all that! shrieked Elsa, my bosom 
friend, coming in. Yes, there he was, my blond angel in , 
reality. I worshipped the rascal. -j^ 

"Sit down, sir,' I said very indifferently, "and Elsa, f; ' 
please re-read that letter — I mislaid my glasses. I did not< > 
quite understand tiie meaning of it." 

*'Miss Ada Blum, ^ • » 

*'Dear Madam : — ^When resting in Atlantic City I met' > 
ivith a gentleman and his wife by the name of Speer. 
They had a copy of your composition 'My Husband's . 
Dream.' We looked it over and we were impressed. Youi , 
would greatly favor me if you would send me a copy be- v 
fore I sail for Europe — go with a theatrical company* ^We 
return in two years. Yours sincerely, 

J , > ' "Joseph O'Mara." 

"Shall I open, Ada? It may be one of your friends? 

' , Don't blame it on me if " 

"Open the basement door at once, sir." ' ^ ; 

"How are you, Josey Staley? Your dre?im aboufc^ y: 






Ca < THBBI0CfEA]PHTOFX^, , 

Charley and. myself cani^ irue, < Read the letter, Elsi. ^ 
Open, iir/' .■ . ,'•' " •'' ' . . '• • . ,;' , . ._ \, , .,.. '!. 
"How are you, Kittle Sweeny? No growler working- ^ 

to-day. Read the letter, Elsa. Open the door, sir " 

*'l am on Blackwell's Island, Ada, and I may as well 
tell it — but now I can make my home with you and you 
will take care of me, and as I have said right, along, ^'11 
will you everything ! You deserve it, and you shall have 
it. The pawn ticket of my" diamond locket, ^ly property 
in Staten Island, my wardrobe, my poems, Thomas Moore 
and all the rest of it, which would have been coming to 
you Jong before had you been willing to accept it. Gtve 
me your Bible, Charley — ^give me Ada's Bible. I'll kiss 
it and swear off after I have been treating you alL 
Charley, go and get it." 

"My proph^fcy will come true! You shall suffer^ 
woman, and your sufferings begin now," mimibled Elsa,.' 
who sat and rested in a somnambulistic sleep. ''You shall 
suffer, but the heart of queen which you go in — ^no — it 
won't kill you, I saw you kneel on a cool, marble floor 
wiping your streaming eyes with a scrubbing rag. I see 
^ you writing and wiping your streaming eyes with the back 
* of your hand. I see — I see— I see Charley, your idol, 
! coming with a tin can in his hand. I see, ah, I see, and ia , 
[|/' his right }iand pocket he holds his right Mnd— he carries 
something; what is it? Joy, it is booze and smells like 
booze ; it 15 booze !" i 

' *'Did you get Ada her Cicle cigarettes, Charley? Yesr"^ 
'*Did you get some beef stew, Charley ? No ? Well, 
V , never too late to mend. Get a big pot full. Here's the 
money/' 

"I cannot be mean now, Charley. If she don't get it 
here, out she'll go. She has been scrubbing in the Grand 
Union Hotel for some time and saved every pennyT— t<> 
come here and see. me. She has about $i6 in her rags. • 
h That has to be blown iut— she'Jl go, to the saloon and be; 
%' paralyzed in an hour, and be on Sie sidewalk and a term 
*j, on the Island.. /So SQon as her money is spent she'll sober | ^^ 
[K up, youknoMf," ..^i r » ji , , , -li 

V/ ."^*^"*^ sit and suck on that butt, Ada; get her a fresK*^ > 
;Vq ; pack, twenty, fpr a nickel r Here, is a ten bill. 4 workied: V 



hard for it, so let it go* Don*t forget the matches, oi" Jroit 
^ have to go again." ., 

"I'll have your roof mended for you, so don't worry* 
Did you get your house insured? No? How about the 
toilet ? Very bad ? Indeed ? Well, I'll take one room and 
pay you for it. I don't mind if it leaks; Did you pay 
something on the interest? No? Well, here is a dollar. 
How about the piano? Still here? and the zither? Only 
one string on it. But you have the zither key and the 
ring. , Well, that will do you. Why don't you have the 
grates fixed ? I smell no smoke in the house — ^you fixed 
Siat anyhow. There is Charley, he always gets a good 
pint. Go and get a pig's head and don't forget the cab- 
bage, or you have to go again. Have you got wood? 
Open the door for Josey, Charley." 

"You look fifteen years younger, Ada, ^ince I saw you 
last. Have you been eating grass again ? Let me tell you 
my dream. I dreamed th^t you were standing on a peak 
of a rock and Charley was trying to climb up to you, but ' 
he slipped and slipped and slipped. Why don't you drink, 
Charley? I'll give yovt a little straight, anyhow. Here i& 
a dime. I hocked my coat to get that dime and carfare 
for my husband — ^he was promised a job in Astoria, and 
was to go to work right away— ah, Jesus I there he is! 
Bad luck again, poor fellow." » 

"Get me some matches, Staley. And don't forget to 
come back again. Well, well, Kitty Sweeney." 

"How many lawsuits have you to attend to, Ada ? And, 
have you got a good lawyer? I gave my property in a 
street down town to a party. He got my property, and 
through that piece of promising ground in Staten Island 
got away up m the world and I — well, I don't mind if I 
have to scrub for a living — it's honest earned. Go and get 
a pint, Charley, and don't forget the matches. Where is 
your cat, Ada? Did you hock it? Poor Staley, look at ^ /j 
him. He is fast asleep in the comer there, i)oor felldw.. 
Poor, poor Elsa, how she nods. How can she sleep like 
that sitting in a chair? I am getting sleepy myself . There 
is Charley and the cat in his bosom and the tin can in his 
hand — ^the other hand is in his pocket. Elsa, get the pig'a 
head ready and I'll take a nap myself while I wait for it^.' -v' 
Don't forget the cabbage or you'll have to go again." ^ - :?J ^ 



vff 



\ . •- . . ' ..■i^p".:tV 



\ 






^.■. 



\ 



7Q;- THB BIOOBAPHY OF 'A , 

', ■> . . ' ' 

"i am glad that they are all sound asleep. Now you 
and I can have the pint to ourself, Ada. You have to 
sleep yourself, -my dear woman— now more than ever. 
Yes, take some of this beer. I'll see to the house. It will 
be all right . Drink, don't worry. I^am here to look 
after your interests, as usual." * , 

"Madam, madam ! Wake up. Your cellar is full of 
water!" 

"My cellar full of water? Where is Charley, and where 
are the others ? Take me in the arms and raise me up. 
Lumbago, beer and friends again. Yes, indeed, the cellar 
is half full of water and it's slowly increasing. Where 
can that water come from? Ah, I see. The plumber was 
here yesterday! The washtubs were stopped up. I had 
only two dollars in my pocket. He had to cut a hole in 
the cellar, he said, otherwise he could do nothing. The 
water from the bathroom and all the water they use up- 
stairs is coming through the hall in the cellar. What can 
be done now ? Nothing, nothing, thank you, lady, and so , 
long ! The house will ht unhealSiy in a week. > The cellar 
full of stagnant water, the few people upstairs must be 
notified. They have to move and I have to move. Yes, 
there is no hope any more. He'll get the property after all 
—after all! Well, he shall have it." 

Tearing down an old, red plush hanging and wrapping 
it^over my head, I went into my neighbor's door and sold 
and lost everything I had in this world, and that is the 
history of the house 144. 

CHAPTER VII 

^ THE MAN WITH TH^ HmEOUS TONGUE , 

*The above named defendant^ in answer to the com- 
plaint herein of the ^bove named plaintiff, denies each and 
every allegation contained in/ said complaint; first, denies 
that she promised one hundred dollars, but promised him 

fifty to protect her interest in a suit, vice G versus /^ 

' herself. The above named service he agreed to render for 
, the. sum of fifty dollars. . Being desirous to avoid a, la^^ 
, suit; and obliged thereat in financial difficulties, she agreed ^^'/ 
to sell the property in question to Mr. G-^-^ — ^' She noti»-* W 



,^ -NBWtOBi'HOtrBL SCRUB -v. '■ 71;^)^' yrM:^ 

fied the lawyer, Mr. W , of her intention to sell her 

proper^ and requested his attendance of the sale for the 
protection of her interests. ^ 

"The aforesaid lawyer, Mr. W , failed to appear, . ; 

and the mortgage-holder on said property, being himself a 
lawyer, attended to the sale, and received the fifty dollars 
for his services rendered. Testimony of this the mort- 
gage-holder and others present at the sale can be secured 
to the truth of the above sfatement. As he rendered no 
services, but neglected to do so when asked, our petitioner 
respectfully askis for the dismissal of the above com- 
plaint." I 

A doctor, an expert in nervous breakdown, and who 
had gained experience by studying human nature, and 
cured most cases with consolation, had handed me this 
petition to take to court on the coming Saturday, hoping 
for the Judge to read it and give me a hearing, so as I 
could prove that the petition told the truth. The session 

was over/ and the lawyer W had not showed up in ^ 

court, and I was very disappointed, as I wanted very . ^Z' 

badly to expose him as a warning to other lawyers who ^ 

when they know that a poor, lone widow happens to have 
something worth while left, to squeeze it put of her and :^-A 
keep up soaking and bleeding, and her only hope then is ,.f^^ 
to go and find an honest lawyer to get her out of the /^'t 
spiderweb. ^ 

As I had in my life come across capable, honest lawyers ^^ 
but had lost their address, I went to this lawyer, Mr. 
W , He had a good reputation, I was told. . 

Caressingly squeezing this petition in my cold, lame 
and sooty fingers, I watched the court {iroceedings, and 
saw that the Court prepared to go for their luncheon. 

"Not at all. . Wait a little, you hear r 

"Sir, I want to see you,' and staggering over to an 
officer in attendance^ I held out in front of his face the 
petition. »-' .^ *'■■.' 

"She is drunk," they thought. And the officer pushed 
me back. That hurt my pride and got my blood in cir- 
culation -and gave me strength enough to' call out loud 
enough to draw the attention of the Judge to me: 

"What is the matter with you? I came here to pay , 
mi debt" — ^thinking of the old saying that "money talks,-' }^ . 



. ■■''■.':'. '> /^■i^-'■^''"•^■■■'Vy,,>W^'■if7- 



i^^ : 73 \r THB BioQBAFHT OP ;a: 

'.-•... I . • ..." 

[i ' and right enough, the Judge lingered and I was admitted 
^ ' . to his presence and handed to his honor the petition. 

[! ! '^You say here ,that you do not owe Mr. W any- 

ff thing," and his kieen eyes searchingly. and swiftly tried 

i^ to size me up. 

n "Neither I do," I said, "but I thought that I had better 

\i, . come up here and face him and ask him if it was^one 
T/ hundred dollars instead of fifty. He made me sign that 

1 morning when his runner came up to the basement in the 
;: house 144, and there found me in a most pitiful condition, 

l; stiff, sore and nearly sightless — no one to assist me, and 

,' ; telling him in, my feeble way that it was absolutely im- 
;, ' possible for me to sign anything as I couldn't see without 
f my glasses, which some one had borrowed from me and, 

> as usual, had forgotten to return, and that I did not 
'^ ., change my name from Mrs. Stella Preckwell to Mrs. Shea 
i'. on account of non-payment of debts, but to escape my 

^il / friends and their beer can and whiskey bottles, and to 
E ask him if it was the image of an angel with a voice like 

^ /the harp of David in heaven who sent this scoundrel of a 
^f;,^ ij lawyer after me to plague me again, and to tell him to try 
^% ) to notify his friends, the other lawyers, that it was no use 
||^\ to try to start into any business with me, that I had no 
Pll^v more real estate, thanks to God, and wanted to be left 
^^'^^^\/ alone after this so as I could have a chance to lie down in 
•; 'f\ my bed and die as a human being." 

1 "Have you got anything to pay with V the Judge inter- 
t rupted me. "You state here that you have no money." 
p "Yes, sir; I have twelve hundred dollars in the bank 

\-.\. and a well-going furnished room house for temperance • 
^;, light housekeeping people, 323 East One Hundred and 
' ' ., Sixteenth Street." 

"Mr, W is not here in court, and you can't pay 

> . when you haven't got anything. Case dismissed." 
, V; ; I perceived the word "dismissed," and some one turned 
' ,.« me around and out J. was in the street again. 

, Th^ worst of all misfortunes which may befall you— 
still worse than to be in the hands of a lawyer, is when 

?., you fall into the hands of a "mixed ale" party,. but so I. v 
■:.::;'■:,- did,'yes. <...,. y.-../,^ :.,.,.. . ., . . . .m: r>,T.f .,; # ., 

^a v, .Previous to this odcurrence a young Irish wpman^bjr : 
rJr >»:^J A^i^sune. of jEliot, had taken a room on the top floor. ./ , 



■ She was the mother of a nice boy who was the assistant ta 
^ a large butcher concern in a store on Third Avenue/ and 
a cute little baby. Her husband was a street laborer and 
on a strike, and had to get along with the wages which 
the boy received by the butcher, and tliat she was absb- 
lutely temperance. 

The thought flashed into my head to let this woman 
take charge of my business until I felt well enough to do 
it myself. 

After giving her all directions necessary concerning the 
house and tenants therein, I laid down, hoping to get 
some sleejji for once in my life, and had just commenced 
to doze away when some one shocked me and anhpunced 
that my people were all going to move, there and then, as- 
they would not live in a house where there was growler 
working going on. » 

"Growler working?" I said in surprise. "Where, when,, 
who?" 
' "In the kitchen, by your new housekeeper lady." 

I went into the kitchen, and there right enough stood 
the Prince of Darkness in all his glory on the kitchen 
' table, in shape of an old, battered-looking tin can filled 
with mixed stuff, seemingly. ; 

Mrs. Eliot stood up and introduced to me her sister^^ 
Maggy ; her oldest brother, John ; her husband's sister's 
oldest brother, John, and a couple more Johns, Mary» 
and Maggys, who had heard of her good luck and hdd 
come to congratulate her and, of course, treat her, — as an 
exception only. 

I explained to my housekeeper that under no circum- 
stances, even if her husband's greatest great-grandfather's 
eldest brother's eldest brother John, and his two sisters, 
Mary and Maggie, came right out from the invisible to [ 
congratulate her, tiiey could do so with their highest of ii 
' ' pleasure to themselves and her, but I wouldn't allow them . ' '' 
to come down, or maybe up, fi^om their abode and into 
my temperance kitchen and rush the growler. Punctum^ ' v 
V and puncHllita, * :| 

"And, madam, pardon me, but you are from me hired - 1 
^ in the purpose to take all my worriment from my mind, sot * 
' as I can get some necessary sleep, and if you are not obey- ; > fj 
ing my commands I shall very hastily see to it.that ypu:.*: I 

«•;'■■. ■•" ^'Vv-'. . ■• I'l.-ri^/. ■t-,-' ■' i'^' Iv*' '■ > 

(.■ .' ■. •■■■■'>■;*'.*■''■.'..'•/■/• .'.• ■; 1-A. /■/•;■■ j*' ' ' ■'''■•V".'>'.'t'"^' ' ' S 

•■'• ': •';.',* 'Vii. -'■ .•.■^i/' >!• •■■' .•« '/■•'ri' kl , 



' ^4 THHI BIOGRAPHY OF A' :; • 

will be with all the punctuality due to you fired out; so 
long, lady/' 

It worked I I was slumbering, but what a terrible yell 
from a little. baby's voice, shrieked out, quivering, com- 
plaining, sing-song: "Mother, I am hungry. I want 
something to eat.". 
}\ Something hit on the door to my room where I was 
lying and broke. It was glass — an empty whiskey-bottle 
which was seemingly aimed for the baby's head, to stop 
her from hanging her mother for the crime that she was 
starving the child to save the incoming boy's wages for 
the beer can. 

Now I was wide away again, but by thinking over mat- 
ters, how I could get rid of this creature without any dis- 
turbance in the neighborhood, I dozed away again, but the 
most hideous dreams commenced to torture me. I saw 
the t|igliest of sights and physiognomies reaching out their 
tongues toward me in bed where I was lying, and disap- 
pear \^nd reappear in quick succession, like moving 
pictures, 

• One of the faces, a most hideous visage, kept standing 
there in the double doors to the room. His tongue was 
hanging from his leprous mouth. I tried to open my eyes 
|\and reach out my voice and tell the felloyv to begone, but 
seeing the tongue commencing to move and wag I held 
my own tongue and let him have the floor, as tfie poor 
man had seemingly something to say to me. Who the 
devil was it? Yes; it was the husband of my new house- 
keeper. And, what did he want? He wanted me to put 
a piece of food on that diabolical red tongue of his. He 
was hungry, he said. 

"Run over to the saloon and get a can of beer, poor . 
man! When people have been starved for a long time 
g they will suffer more from thirst than hunger, I am very. 
r ' thirsty, myself, and Borden's milk bottle is not in the win- 
dow this morning/' ^, c.i^, 

f That was the word of niagic. yThe man irfthe door ; 
changed him at once into a very sensible and decent-^look- 
K ing human being, and I raised myself up to: a sitting .. 
position and-^^ — -. , .• , •.•; .v. ;p .'?<. <-it. .'.M;;,,*iiv 

"Give me A swallow from that tin can/ Mister; EJiot,^ J 
'and then give away the rest, after you have satisfied your 



fr 



thirst. Judging from that tongue of yours, it must be'^J 
unbearable. Then tell your wife to come in and get her ' . 
dispossess papers, that is, if she don't want me to halloa 
tlirough the windows for an officer to take her away from 
my sight." 

What was in that beer I drank? One good swallow -: 
only I took to quench my thirst, but anyhow I was para- 
lyzed. I could not move. I produced money and sent 
for clam juice. The clam juice didn't come. I produced 
money and sent for Dr. O'Brian. Dr. O'Brian didn't 
come. I sent for the ambulance. The ambulance came 
and I was haled to the Harlem Dispensary, and there I 
was received as a helpless drunkard and imbecile and 
cigarette fiend. What happened to me there I shall cut 
out, but not long" after that I was haled to Bdlevue in 
Twenty-second Street, or Twenty-sixth, and there I was 
laid on the floor among a heap of misfortunates with 
empty stomachs, and I suffered the tortures of hell until 
the following day at about two o'clock in the afternoon, ^ 

when the doctor came to look after our welfare. /: /' 

"Thank God for that !" I sighed when I saw the doc- * /\ 
tor's face. "You are no dummy," and I was right. 

He stood before me and I stood up and bowed and " ^^ 
tried to look my best. "Pardon me, doctor, but I am here i^ - ' 
by mistake. May I explain how I came to be here ?'.'/> 

"Yes," he replied simply. f!;^ 

"Well, I am a sufferer from insomnia. I have parsed 
through extreme misery of all varieties in latter years and ' ■ 
' have been growing despondent. I thought that j was 
done with sorrow and trouble when I moved from Thirty- . ■ 
third Street to escape the growler and my friends in Har- ' ^ 
lem. I thought, I can live in respectability as a recluse 
in my basement and make my living by renting rooms to ^; 
temperance people only, and did so the whole winter, until 
my sweetheart — ^well, I'll cut that out, but then a lawyer, 
an old acquaintance, wanted to serf^me in the court. Then ' 
I met with a mixed ale party, and she — it was a woman — 
and she, her husband and her children put me on the bum 
for fair and for good, and I suffered one night from night- 
•hiare. I saw a man standing in my room with a tongue in 
his mouth, and reaching it out toward me in my bed, >^ 
I yelled out in terror and took a swallow from the beer .'7.«^> . 

. ' .■ ;^ >. o?.^-^^' 



I/-, ^' -■< ■/ " . ry,/H"- '.■" • ;■•■•■: .'V.-.. ..•..■ T.^-r . ;.V-^;^V:^i.•.J■»;i^f^•W,^r■• 

f ■ ' , :' '!' • • , ■ .■ , ..■■ " . ' .V 

79 THE BIOQRAJPHt OF A 

can^ which he held concealed behind his back, and had 
you been there, doctor, you would have done the same, 
and here I am before you, sir, and my humble pardon and 
your kind consent for my release from this very respect- 
ble place, which I presume is the alcoholic ward in the 
Bellevue Hospital, one of the greatest concerns in the 
world." 

"Where do you live?" 

"No. 333 East ii6th Street." 

'*Can you find your way home? Yes? Well, I'll giye 
an order for your relase.' 

** What's your name?" I was asked a few minutes after- 
wards. I 

**Mrs Shea." 

"And where do you live?" 

*'No. 323 East ii6th Street. 

"Can you sign your name?", 

*'Yes, if you will put your finger on the spor where you 
wish me to sign. Ill -sign wel} enough, but it will do 
you no good, lady. My signature isn't worth a puff. Fm . 
no property own^r any more, and — -" 

*'Sig^." I did. "Can yqu find your way home?"* 

"Sign." I did. "Did you have anytfiing in your 
pocket?" 
\ *' Yes, there is my scissors and my thimble, and a sum- 
mons from a lawyer by the'name of Mr. W — — , two bank 
books, Harlem and Battery savings banks, containing the / 
amount of $1,200, and an old love letter." ' ' / 

'Sign." . ; 

''Oh, I forgot, there is! nineteen cents and a postal card 
also in my pocket in the underskirt." 

''Sign." I did, and my belongings were brought to 
me. . 

"Is it all right?" she asked. ' . 

**Yes," said I, "it is all there." 

"Sign." I did. .,. 

She tied a down' comfortable, which I always had 
around me, in a.bundle.; I didn't need it — it was warm. 
She tied a prison (owel pver my head, and she and the , 
others young nurses made fun bf me, which I didn't be- 
grudge, 
had saved 



r^ young nurses made fun bf. me, which I didn't be- ^ ' 
lge,'as I thought it was funny myself, and this lady^^^^i ' 
saved my life by ordering them to give ipe a glass of v^-/ 




.V ' -vA- ''■:•--..,■ vv .-NEW" YORK ^HOTBL''S0BUBil#t'v'''^ 

milk and'to.*dress me so I shouldn't freeze to death/^ She/iCtiH^ 
was a head nurse, and in the meantime I was awaiting the;' 
iloctor. I felt very grateful, of course, and grasped her' 
well-kept hand in my clumsy and dirty fingers, and with, 
great enthusiasm I pressed her hand to my heart, and say-^ 
ing that TU never forget her kindness and, forgetting 
where I was, I gave her my promise that Til be up and 
see her as soon as possible. I meant this very earnestly, 
indeed, but the young nurses who were there to assist 
the head nurse, busted out laughing and I took a tumble 
myself and said a hasty good-by. One of the little good- 
natured, freshy nurses calling aftei- me to beware of the 
man with the hideous tongue, and his beer can and my, 
housekeeper with her mixed ale party. 



CHAPTER VIII 

KOCKAWAY BEACH^ A SEQUEL TO THE MAN WITH THE! 
' HIDEOUS TONGUE 

I WAS born a roamer. I left home when I was very, 
youn^, and since then I travelled from one place to an- 
other. If there were unpleasantness crossing me in any 
form or manner, off I went to some other place, but now^ 
on account of ill health, I stuck fast — I could roani no. 
more. ^^ / 

But now my brain was bad — ^yes, I was suffering with.' 
weakness of the brain and nervous break down. "I bet- 
ter try to help me out of that myself," I thought. The. 
doctors are, some of them, inexperienced — :they are lopk**' 
ing for lunatics and seemingly glad if they have found 
some one, whom they can denounce as one, I am^ure 
that happens ovpr and over again.' ' 

Yes, and inine month of May, 1903, I drew the little 
cash I stiir had from the Bowery v Savings Bank. Then 
I threw/ away my rags and dressed up, bought a fine-look- 
ing travelling bag* I put a large quantity of cough mix- 
ture—a bottle of Duffy's Malt whiskey, some beef juice 
and a few raw eggs and a novel into that bag. There I 
stood and ,said good-by to my surroundings, and with a 



'/ < 







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r'i-V'^ ' 



THE BIOGRAPHY OF A 



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tear-stained face and cracked voice I sang out my sorrow- 
to them as a memoir, and then I. stood on the street and 
looked up and down. "Where will I go to?" I thought. 
"I can only do what I used to do years ago, when I was 
youhg. I'll R-o toward the sun and let fate do the rest." 
And J boarded a car. It did not in the least interest me 
where the car went to. I sat there with my satchel on 
my lap, looking before me on nothing, thinking of noth- 
ing, until the car stopped and I was told to go out, which 
I did. ' 

I was staggering. They turned and looked at me. 
^'She has taken too much," they thought, which I had. I 
had taken a teaspoonful ,of Duffy's Malt, according to 
directions, and that was too mudi for me. 1 was too 
weak to stand it. So they were right 

. Looking before me I saw a park and staggered over 
there and sat down on one of the benches. 

"I'll see yo]U in the park yet," said a beggar to me when 
I i-ef used him money. He snorted at me — ^his prophecy 
came true. There I was, sitting, sick, homeless and help- 
less in the park— no, I was not helpless. I had $1,200 in 
my stocking. ■ { 

Look out for that cop, Ada ; he has his eyes on you, and 
for Heaven's sake don't start m to-cry or he'll have you 
in his clutches, and theyll send you, God knows where to. 
Beware, woman, beware ! I must hide some place before 
lifit is too late — too late — ^the hardest words in the language 
1 — ^too late! I read some place that a clever fortune- 
teller could pick out lucky and unlucky letters in the 
alphabet. Which letter shall I try? Well start in with 
A-— Ada. It IS a bad letter for. fair. B — ^beauty; no, I 
have lost all my former attraction. C — constable; look 
out, woman, he is watching you behind a tree. D---dam- 
nation. ^Just as bad as the cop there. Er— eternity ! 
eternity! My brain is too weak just now. , F — ^freedom. 
Yes, I am free to go where I like, do what I want, but that 
is, I think, what makes me so miserable. I ^ alone, 
alone! No- one to. speak .to; no one to confide in; no 
one. to. seek advice from-T-they. do not understand me.. 
Ye V the more I speak the less they know what I am talk- 
ing^, about,) and they all think Ifam either intoxicated 01^.' 
,l96hey,|i IsL there; no: one i like myself? With the same i 



;>f ^:^'v :' '■'''>. '\ '~ NBw^TORK^HOTBL^soBUB '^^^^ v"':''"'" '.•:'^- ■ 7d?f^-:^^?^ 






thoughts and feelings? No, and I don't want their com- ] 

pany. They bore me and the end of it is they have some \ :^ 

selfish purpose in view. They start in to borrow some- ■ ^i| 

thing right in the beginning of our friendship, "Can I 

have the lend of your scissors ?" "Yes," I have to say, of 

course ; I cannot refuse my friend the lend of my scissors. 

"Are you using your thimble ?" "No, of course I'm not" 

"Have you got an umbrella? My husband has to go out . 'h(h 

and it looks like rain." "Suppose I took the notion to go 

out myself," I think, but I say nothing and hand her over 

my umbrella with a smile. "I forgot to tell you, I can't 

pay you tlie rent this week, but you won't mind, will you ? 

We are good friends and you know I'm good for it. I 

had to get me a jpair of corsets." "Yes," I say, and grind 

my teeth. And the friendship in a man ! Lewdness ! At 

least the men I have met with ; so I think to be alone is 

preferable, but I -am so lonely-— so lonely. Freedom! 

Where was I? Yes, G— grave. The grave, Ada; tfiat 

is your only hope, my poor woman. ' m 

' H — ^hell. Shysh! Shut up. I His image, his /| 

image; I used to see his image before me, but we are / J 

parted, parted forever, and his image don't sway for my ^ ! 

vision any more. No; forget St. «-HJealousy. Yes, ^ 

that is the course of my lady. I was jealous, and maybe ,> *' 1 
I had no reason to be jealous; but K — ^kalsomine. Not /; | 
at all. . I don't paint and powder any more. For whoni / | 

should I bother ? L — lament. Yes, but not here in the i' | 

park. M — ^money ; money. Yes, the little I have left. / I 

What can I do with it alone and in a sore dilemma, sick ^ • 1 

and sorrowful ? N — ^name and nobody he called me. Nd 
one and nobody. Thzt was our last word of parting. 
Am I nothing at all? No, I suppose not. Well, O— or- . i 

dained. Am I ordained to this continued suffering? 
Yes, I suppose I am. P — Paradise. Yes there is a Para- 
dise at least ; that is if one can eat substantial food and 
drink plenty of water only ; then you can work with brain 
or body and you'll get tired and youll sleep— sleep. If I 
only could sleep. No, I only slumber now and then, and 
then I am plagued with the nightmare and see hideous 
sights before my fac^. Q— yes, that is the question. 
Where will I go to? R-K-R — R reminds me of some- 
thing. R — ^what was it? I hear a violin around me and 



/ 



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.<^r, 






^•y- 



THB BIOGRAPHY OV A , 



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i^'V^''I sec a sWet^ severe face, the chin ^resting on a white silk 

■--^■' handkerchief, and both caress the violin through his 

glasses. I can see two noble, brown eyes watching me on 

the stage. With his right arm he holds the violin bow and 

caressingly and very carefully he strokes the violin until 

he has let me find my B, moll, tune and then we both join 

in together and tell each dther through wonderful music 

how good, how true, what a happy life we could live to- . 

gether. But no; we both drank beer-r-could not afford 

to buy good beer, but had the tin can filled with cheap 

stuflF, and then didn't we both smoke cigarettei? Yes, 

^ ]\ • ,' we had enjoyed a cigarette before our acquaintancie, which. 

*^^ '■ is no harm whatsoever, but we overdid it. Between every 

kiss we had to take a puff — ^a kiss and a puff, and a kiss 

and a puff. Then the kiss was too long and the cigarette 

went out, and striking a match we took no time to let the 

sulphur bum off and sucked the poison from the burning 

match into our system. Heavens ! How many times 

have I done that, even lately, and that was the cause of it ; 

that only a puff from the cigarette made me deadly sick, 

so I got frightened, threw away the butt between my / ' 

fingers in horror and for hell or He?iven, and sank on my 

knees, called before my vision the ima^^e of our Lord and 

protector Jesus Christus, to hold His protecting hand 

over my head if I should happen to absent-mindedly, 

hastily snap up a butt and striking a match suck up to my 

"^ poor, weak, but active brain nicotine and sulphur, which, 

'.^ both combining, is sure to send me to hell, where I do 

' not belong. Then we got deadly sick, and we had to at- 

^ tend to business and drank strong black coffee to make 

us going. And we knew that coffee in great quantities 

' produces insomnia, and night and day we were in delirium 

and imagined horrid things. I, for instance, imagined 

.' that he was the devil and had one of his horns in his 

^; pocket, which he held there in his hand, caressing and 

'; .ready fof the chance to poke it into my clouded and nico- 

,i tine and sulphur-steeped brain, and I stood ready — ready 

with my fists to meet his diabolical assault, and I hit him 

; in his glasses and he^ of course, returned it — ^not with onc^ ' 

'of hii' prbkeq-off horns, but with that lovely, trusting bow; 

tot his, which he usedr-the violin bow, so beautifully used.^ , 

^*\theri I had a sore, bleedihpf: nose, ^d poor LadgenitCart- , 



r< 



Bi^v 



v^, 



Si 



^/?:n^ 







:'■•■. ';■■:' ■"''''' ^'■.^■-y:!^.'-^ ' 
had lio, glasses and no money to buy anyi'Wd %eVjiat? 
\ sobered up and weeping and wondering how "We could* 
. have sank so, but the butts and bad matdies were alwaysC 
at handy and we both started in to poison ourselves, and' 
the same scene was repeated. Then God thought He bet- 
ter part us for some time, which He did-=-which he did.. 
Then — ^what was I talking about? The cop? No, the* 
letter R. Rocks. Shallhatta Waterfall at Stockholm? 
No, Rocks — I think I'd better take a spoon of this won-^ 
derful cough mixture — I am choking — ^Rocks — Rockaway .1 

Beach, Rocky way. A rocky way~-way, all hills and ' \,ii 
' chasms and wild, beautiful sceneries. I'll pick out a cave 
and there I'll creep in and lie down and die, and whoever 
may find me he will feel my pulse, no my leg — I mean to 
see for sure if I am stiff; then he'll discover my boodle in 
the safe and have a good time, which I don't begrudge 
him or her. Is he or she honest they'll bury me decently* 
If not — ^well, what do I care? The people iii Potter's 
Field are the first who will be welcomed by the bearer of 
the key. Rocks! "Mister, which way do I turn if L 
want to go to Rockaway, please ?" 

"Rockaway? Oh, yes; turn around to your left, then 
take your right-hand street until you come to the corner^ 
then again turn around and you'll see the boat before yott: 
and there yod are." 

That's rather hard for my memory just now.^ 'Suppose^ 
you took a very small swallow from the other bottle? 
Could you stand it, Ada? Yes, I can like a man, and the: 
large quart bottle was in my shaky grasp, and the swal- 
low was down. 

"What are you doing there? Take a move on you or 
I'll lock you up." 

"Yes, sir, thank you very much, sir," I answered the 
park policemah, who stood near, my side^ and I -made a. 
spring, and with a sweet smile I winked my other eye to^ 
the cbp, gave him a handkiss and said : "Ah, there ! Stay- 
there !" The Duffy's Malt had done that,' and I huddle* 
■ oflF. ■ ' ' '■ 

Some way or other I came on the boat, and there on the 
boat I had a snooze. "Rockaway!" I heard some one 
calling, and I crept out after the other passengers, and 
there I sat in the sand. I opened the satchel and took.: 



I 



.1^ 



^a ' THB BIOGRAPHY OV £ 

9ome Pcmna, as my stomach started in to cough, so as I 
ivas nearly choking, but as it did not relieve me I took a' 
5wall6w from the other bottle. That was better. I. 
started in to sing, and of course to weep. There is a 
£:ood many things can be done in the sand, you know, sir^ 
jand I started in to sing and ydl and cry out my sorrow to 
the swells, which I think could hear me as they came 
nearerf and by opening my mug good and hard the sea air 
sneaked into my stomach and not long after I drank two 
raw eggs. Then I opened the umbrella and kept up gap- 
ing and looked into the valise. Ah, oh dear I A novels 
^ by» and For sure and for fair it was by Emma Southworth, 
; "The Family Dome." 

As Emma knows how to set a good table which will 
aro&se your appetite, the book came very handy. Not 
long and I was on the road up to look for a meal, and 
got it in the Hotel Klondike, on, Sea Beach Walk, and 
^ there also I took shelter for the night, and there I had 
twelve hours sleep. 

The following morning I went out aiid sat. down and 
had breakfast — ^yes I did, a regular meal, for the first 
time in nikny years, and looking down on the other side of 
the street I saw a sign and called Mrs. Klondike over and 

|l told her to read the sig^, as my eyes were very, weak. 

yny, , '* We bust ! And hast du gesh ? You will make a good 
business in that hotel, and I will call the owner here so 
you can see him." . 

**Go ahead," I replied. "It don't matter. If he wants 
to come let him come." 

The agent came and I agreed that I would rent the 
hotel as soon as I had 'telegraphed to my old friend Jack 

fikv in Brooklyn. \ 

i\M ! * My telegram was sent oflF, and there, there far distant I 
caw the red and bloated face of Jacob Larsen coming 

t,,. .among other passengers from die train. • , 

l^jfc'' / This old friend of mine, Mr. Jacob Larsen, robbed me 
'Df every cent I had in this world and left me behind to 
'perish, but I have to tell you how he accomplished this 
great work, - ' , 

My friend Jack is a big, fat man, and one can, see him 
-and know him miles away on (he color on his face. ; It is 
wiolet. :^ This .Jack could make himself exceedingly V 



pleasant ^and amiable; and his face was miiling all over)! 
when. he saw m^, "Go over to the People's Hot^I and. 
take a look at the place, Jack," I said. 7 

'•What! That strange feeling again I What can that M 

be? And — ^yes,j mother's spirit flashed before my face just 
now. . Pshaw, a sick brain, that's all," I thought. "Well, 
Jack?" \ . X ^ 

"Take the place by all means, Ada; all new improve- 
ments and the landlord is ready for you to sign the lease, 
and we can move in there, and then I'll do all I can to help 
you, and you'll never be sorry that you sent /or me, I 
am your brotlier-in-law's brother. We were sweethearts 
once, and would have been man and wife to-day, only 
your dead sister, Zela, interfered and influenced you to 
think ill of me. But I love you with the same ardent 
passion, and if you could give up Charley Gates we would 
get mirried there and then." 

"Thank you, Jack ; but we' will cut that out." 

"What ! Oh yes ; certainly. Here is some cash. Let's 
g;o and eat." 

A platter with an extra large bone sirloin steak and 
French fried potatoes to match the bone sirloin and a. half 
a dozen bottles of imported beer, etc. 

"Oh, my I" I thought, "what will become of me? I am 
the one who have to pay for all that, but who is going to 
eat it?" By • Jo vCj the bone sirloin, potatoes and beer dis- 
appeared behind handsome Jack's big mouth in no time;^y \*^ 
even the bone he ate. At least I did not see it on the plat 
ter, neither on the table cloth. I became 'sick and I re 
turned alone to the Klondike Hotel. * | 

"What do you think of that, Miss Ada Blum? I am j 

so sorry, for one season would have made you rich if the * 5 
season stays so fine as it is now." | 

"What is it, Mrs. Klondike?" | 

"People's Hotel is taken. As soon as they saw that I 

big, handsome fellow was after it a man who had been 
hesitating the whole winter made up his mind-to take it ; 
come running as he turned his back to return over here, 
and signed the lease." , j 

"Thank God for that, Mrs. Klondike. I am sick again ^i 

and I am not fit for anything." I did not careto entrust , ' J 
my $1,200 into Jack's care after I had seen him dining, || 



:.^;r: 




w 



It y^is in fhe autumn of 1903, as stated before, and it 
started in to rain, and poor me laid sick in bed among 
strangers, and I was in the hands of "my old friend Jack." 

"I got another place, Ada, just as good. It's on the 
Boulevard, and all you have to do is to come with me 
and sig^ the lease. You can go so far. It's only to the 
agent's office, near the police station. Come ; I'll help you 
out of bed. What? Don't mind me, as I told you be- 
fore my love for you is only pure platonic. I'll help you 
to dress and if you can't walk I'll carry you up there." 

"All new improvements," the agent commenced, seeing 
lis ent^r his place. "Yes, everything is in good order. 
All necessaries for a hotel. You can take^immediate 
possession." 

"Very well, sir ; this gentleman has seen the place and 
I rely on his judgment. Make out the lease and it will 
be signed." 

"Why don't you marry me, Ada?" Jack whined in my 
1^^ ear, and removed •from his pocket a large handkerchief 

fc . and stroked it over his eyes. "Marry me, Ada, won't 
% you?" 

^Jk "I cannot marry you now, Jack. At least just now* 
My body is sick, my brain is weak and my heart is sorely 

wounded. But if Well, we'll see about it, Jack," I 

said consolingly in an undertone not to disturb the agent» 
who was sitting at his desk writing, at the lease. "I can 
b swallow laundry soap when my stomach gets too bad, and 
'maybe a little plaster of Paris taken internally would heal 
the rent in my heart, but I shall, to show my gratitude 
for your kindness, make you, not my partner in life, but 
in business. That's something, ain't it. Jack? Mister, 
slam into that lease this gentleman, Mr, Jacob Larsen 
Hoagland ; born in Stawenger, Norway ; sailor by birth 
and bartender by profession ; thirty-eight years old, very 
fat and well meaning, as my partner in the hotel business. 

"Stop that crying, Jack, and I'll tell you what the Klon- 
dike said. X<^w was a regular advertisement on the beach„ 
and as soon as you looked at a place some one ^ame and 
snapped it, and if we should get broke after all, you 
don't need to saw wood for my support, as you said you ' 
.weigh 220 pounds and you have a strong arm for toiU 



/ 




'I 



' but you don't need to toil. Take a place by , a red! estate 
man and they can live on your income, ' ;i,^ 

"Oh, that's the lease^ hey? Read it, Jack, aloud, so I 
can hear what it says. What was that?" I gasped* "My 
mother's face again before me!" I looked at Jack and 
felt faint at heart. He had his face wide into the con^ 
tract, and his neck and. face were purple. His big, blue 
eyes were bulging from his head like the lobster which he 
bought for me on the night he robbed me. "That is all 
right, Ada," he spoke up at last. "Sign it." 

"Read the lease doud, sir agent," I said. "I tike to 
know. You may have made some error." But np, I de* 
tected none whatever. 1 signed. Jack signed and the 
agent had $400 of my hard-earned money in his hand and 
an hour afterward we were in our new place. I crept 
iip and went to rest and left Jack Larsen to attend to mat- . , 
ters in our hotel. *^ 1 

After a while my friend Jack knocked at my door and ^^ 
said: 

"I can't make a fire. There is no pipe on the cooking 
range, Ada. AVhat shall I do? I want to make some M 
coffee." 

"We'll make some coffee holding the pan over^the gas,. 
Jack, dear." 

"There is no gas in the house, and all the fixtures in the 
place are broken off and seemingly stolen during the 

night." ■/■: 

"Make me a cup of extraordinarily strong coffee on a 
few sticks of wood in a dry corner of the yard." . . rr 

"There is no water in the house, but I gave one of the 
'handy men' a quarter to go and get some; 'get a whole 
pail full of water,' he said, for that money, and he needed 
water, for he was going to wash windows." .- . 

"Save the water for drinking purposes, and 'tell the 
men to first clean the place from plaster. Is it very dirty ? 
I saw it when I went through it, and g^ve me/a glass of 
water when ^he men come back." j.;;, , 

"No, siree ! Water will kill you^ Ada'; you are too sick 
to drink water. I need some cash, of course, and I'll get 
a few bottles of beer." .. 

"Never mind the beer. Drive to the agent's office and 
tell him I want him immediately." 



"I can do nothing for jou. I acted in the behalf of 
the landlord. You write to him and I will be here to see " 
to it. So long, my good woman. 1 ,ht>ipe yot^ll make out 
well." . '. V 

'■'■\ The landlord sent a postal, and said: '111 be over as 
soon as it stops raining," and that I should let tiie agent 
attend to the matter. The agent sent a card over and 
said he couldn't go out because it rained. No one showed 
up in the place because it rained. Nothing but half- 
, rotten food could be bought on the beach because it 
rained. We had no water, light or anything in the line of 
comfort in the place because it rained. I wrote over to 
^ New York for a person to come and help me as com- 
panion, She s^t a card that' shell be over as soon as it 
. clears up a little. Jack went over to Brooklyn because it 
rained, and camt back four days after because it was 
raining in Brooklyn. ''Ill get you a fresh lobster, Ada. 
You can eat the roe and I'll eat the rest, 'and I'll get you 
. plenty of bieer in. I'm sure you can't lie there and starve 
because it rains. 
"I won't stay long because it is raining out and I'll gel 
'-. wet through and through. You stay right where you are 
and cover yourself warm and good because it's raining 
very badly. There is only one bed in the place. I'll throw 
m^ me alongside of you to-night. My love for you is too 
'm ^<,platonic to think of any wrongdoing. I always get the 
blues when it rains. Well, rain or no rain, I have to go 
and get you something to eat." 

"I had to pay a dollar because it has been raining right 
along," he said, "Now, Ada, first take a swallow of 
whiskey.. I bought it in the drug store, I did. It is 
Hunter's whiskey. It'll warm you and it'll make you 
eat." 

. I did, and the following morning I awakened alone in . 
the house. I felt a draft in my wrapper in the back. I 
felt for the money which I carried there. I felt a large 
rent — ^my money was gone! It was knockout drops in 
the whiskey. He cut a hole in the back of my clothes and 
stole every cent I hiad in the world and left me behind to • 
t( / perish; and so you can see, my 'dear sir, pr madam^ that |' 
rV^ th^re is no luck in the letter R-r-at least not for nje. '* 

What next? Yes^ I'll try another letter. R was un^ 



i;^ lucky, btifj^kat" is ^^^&^ Suppose * 

I take a move on myself and get out of bed and try -f^)^ 
again/' Says Witerhousfe: ' ■ ■> nV' ^ 

•■ . ■ • ^; V* ■' ■. ' 'iiv/. ■- 

, "All sKanie to rugged heart and brain, ^ 

WhenFate has pressed them sore; '^**"' 

N. Who cannot rise above their pain, ' '-* 

And cast the dice once more." • 

/ * '. • 

•'And then be brave," says another poet> Well, Ada, 
you have got to get out of here, anyhow. You can't stay 
here forever. Suppose I try and get up. The sun is ' 
shining at last^ Oh God ! I am snow white, and this can- 
not be yourself, Ada ! What has become of your eyes ? 
' They are away back in your skull, and your cheek bones 
^ are protruding. Vour nose is swollen and a skin bag is 
hanging under your chin, and your cheek is hollow,. and 
there isn't a thing in this place to swallow — ^not even a 
drink of water. There is no one calling on me any more 
because they see the cigarette butts lying around. Well, 
they take me for a very bad woman, I suppose. 

Let them think what they like. I am glad that I am 
under no obligation to anyone. I'll take the twenty-five 
dollars that the landlord offered me for the lease and the ' ' 
twenty which my friend Jack paid deposit tq the gas com- 
pany, thou^ he knew there was no gas fixtures. ' V 

Well, twice twenty-five makes fifty. I'll go and gejt the/ '• 
money and be off, and go toward the sun again and lejt^^ 
fate and the letter S do the rest. 

"What is the price of those two rooms, madam? Six 
dollars and fifty cents? Very well. Here's the money. ,^" 
I'll move in now. I'm just after burying my husband, » ' ^ 
and after I laid him in th^ grave there was very/little 
money left, and I have now to look around How 1 can 
make my living? Could you, maybe, advise me, Mrs. 

Well, some other time will do. I'll take it for 

a few days and rest myself. My fi|miture • will be here 
right away, apd you don't need to bother } I'll take care of 
them myself when they come. So long," 1 said and went , 
V down and bought me' a tin can and a pack of Cicle ciga- ^ 
rettes and a loaf of bread arid a glass. Returning I took '^ 
one of the drawers out to the front room and placed it 



<-4 

J 






on the floor in the best corner of the room, set the beer 
caHj cigarettes/ matches and the bread on the floor and 
sat down myself and took a long, long gulp from the beer 
can. How nice it was 1 Then I struck a match and lit a 
cigarette. .That was still nicer. Then I took another 
draught from the tin can. Never mind the bread. I 
can't swallow it, so beer will feed me well enough, and I 
took another draught and another and another, until the 
tin can was empty, then, I went down and had it filled 
again with mixed stuff, as it took me too much money to 
have myself knocked out so I could relieve my agony in 
sleep. They say that only cowards commit suicide. I 
think it takes a very brave person to do it, I mumbled, and 
that is all I can remember until one morning early I 
awakeiied, still sitting on that drawer. I was hung^. 
The bread was lying near me. I took it up to bite on it. 
It was hard— -hard. Could the bread get so hard in one 
night? Impossible. It would take a month to harden 
this loaf of bread. Did some one exchange it? Did I 
lock the door ? Yes, I did. Oh, oh, oh I Not a cent in 
my pocket. Yes, three cents is there among the rubbish 
of paper, I had nearly fifty dollars when I came in here 
and sat down on that box. I must go out and hang up the 
bartender for a pint until I can find my money, I Siought^ 
and took the can and sneaked out and down stairs, when I 
heard a voice calling after me, 

■. *'Come here, you ! You can't rush that can any longer 
in my house. You are a disgrace to the neighborhood, 
and if you don't stop you have to get out, and besides 
your rent is due to-day." 

"My rent due to-day, madam, impossible. I moved in 
yesterday only." 

,' 'Tndeed, it is a month to-day since you took the rooms, 
and the landlord will be here after his rent." 

''Madam, I deeply regret-— but what is the use talking? 
Wi!I you trust me another day until I come to my senses, 
and ril do my best?" 

, "111 keep your trunk, though; but no, there isn't any- 
thing in it wprth the while, so my boy. can carry it up 
stairs for you. Jimmy, come here to me. Qarry up the 
trunk for the poor creature. I. think- 1 saw. a piece of 



> losos^iin it and some old iiibbish'wiU enable you^'towddil 
■ v: inyourtfacc^^ ^v • ' «"•,■ ^- - .^-"^ '' ^^^ ^->;)->'vy-> -«rris:?.-- ■ 
^ , "Yoii are indeed good, madam/' I said, and went* and ' 
, got three bananas for the three pennies I felt in my pocket, 
Then I went up stairs and looked at my trunk. It came ^ 
• from Baltimore. Baltimore, and I had it sent to New 
.: York from Rockaway Beach, and did not direct it to any 
pUce, as I did not know where I would find a home. How 
did tiiat trunk take the notion to travel to Baltimore? 
Well, enough; by mistake, I suppose, but how iii the name 
of everything that is good did the trunk come back to 
New York and right up here to me? The landlady's son 
carried it up, so it did not walk up. Where did I get that 
trunk, anyway ? Yes, it belonged to a fellow who came 
to my house to rent a room. After paying the rent for 
the room he told me that he was a sailor, and had for 
many years saved up his money, so. he could go to Sweden 
and there live in happiness with his old mother. Yes, 
then he came back in a day or two and told me he had 
met with a little young angel-looking fairy in the form of 
a girl with "all new improvements." He couldn't help it, 
he said. They went to a Raines law hotel and ^ome 
hours afterward he stood in the front of the hotel abso^ 
lutely bare of his belongings. Yes. ' . 

I let him come and go and take from the trunk all un^il \^^ 
the trunk was empty then. I was sick at the time; yes, ^' 
and he came and went over to the couch where F was^ 
lying and took my hand in his. "Keep the trunk as (a 
memory of me, madam; you will never see me agaift.'f' 
He then turned and groaned and went towards the 
door. / 

"Come here to me," I said. "A shelter and a crust you 
will find here until you— ^" ' •' . 

Oh, there! Oh, dear, he was gone! and I never saw 
him since. But oh, dear me ; how silly I ani. The man is 
in Baltimore, but intuition or something invisible' told the 
trunk to follow the man to Baltimore, but the mail, as he 
was "only a man," may have stranded knd raised sail with 
another little angel girl, with all the new improvements,, 
and the trunk got ^sgusted and returned to poor, poor 

\. Yesi(but the letter S; Yes, and the landlord will be 






tu , 



90 ^TH^BIOGBAPHTOFA 

here for This money to-day. I don't want to see htm. Ill' 
go over ^ the park and think the matter over. There is 
no hope to think out a thought in this place. It is too 
noisy. , , ' 

Now I am sitting in the park» and the beggars' prophecy 
IS come true, S-S-S — Selmal My dead sister Selma. 
Where was I last night? I saw myself sitting on my sis- 
. .^ ter*s grave. I felt her skeleton form in my arms, pressed 
};' her to my boscmi. She kissed me and said : 
[^'\ '*The letter S is the one! Sing, Ada; go out in the 
world and wander and wander from yard to yard, and 
play your zither and sing. He will hear you. He is hid 
somewhere. As he is in letter for the electric chair. He 
1% only robbed you when you were dead, biit me, he poisoned 
^ and let me be in Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, 
and suffer the same poignant torture which the oil king 
was inflicting on those little baby kittens. The poison he 
had received from a foreign sailor friend. He used to 
threaten me with it when he was intoxicated because I in- 
terfered between him and you. I did not want my good, 
noble sister to marry a thief and, male prostitute— no. 
Yes, Jacob Larsen Hoagland poisoned me, but he was the 
brother of my husband and he was your idol at that time. 
It would have killed my only darling sister to have seen 
her sweetheart die in the electric chair. Take this voice 
Vfrpm my lipS, Ada! My spirit, my voice is in you now. 
Go out and sing and travel all over the world, from North 
to South pole. He will hear you and see before his face 
my skeleton bones. How I shall creep in to him. ^ How 
I shall torture him— not because he killed me — I was glad 
to die, as my husband, Emanuel Larsen Hoagland was not 
¥' true to me, anyhow, but because I loved him/* 



V 



r CHAPTER IX 



I 



THE SIGNING OF AN OPTION ^ 

^ • Mr, and Mrs!, Brown, by producing ; good references, 
.^'v Tented tl^e front parlor in my house and took possession of ^' 
^^^ 'the room at 'once. ■;" '. ■""''■ '' •*•■. '^' ■ '-' \''''^'-^^^t{ 



"Bills in thy hand again, thank God/' I thought, with 
the intention to watch Siem when they were going in and ^^- 
out. He was an elderly, well-dressed and exceedingly ^^*^^ '^^ 
respectable-looking gentleman ; she, large, stout, welU ' / . ; ■ : 
dressed and refined iiji appearance.. They are ^seemingly '/^' 
all right, I thought. A week had passed and I had seen 
nor heard nothing wrong about my new tenants in the 
parlqr. A sign I had hung in the front hall, which read, 
"To whom it may concern : Can rushing is not tplerated 
in this house, neither are intoxicated people. Rent must 
be paid in advance, or one day's notice to seek another 
home. No noisy or disorderly conduct in this house. 
Pay attention. Strictly obey this or I'll be up with the 
hatchet — a very large one — ^blade and club combined. 
Though crippled in body, in justice I have a stronj^ arm. | 

"Signed by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty | 

to Landladies who let out furnished rooms for their liv- I 

. "It knocked on my door." j 

That knock ! Ah, Heaven be praised ! No, Heaven :M 

forbid. , .11 

"Who is there?" I called out in a vibrating voice. f'M 

^'What, who?" . ; ;• 

A nasal voice responded: "The coal man.^ 

The coal man. Pshaw, no one else. 'Twas the coal ,<j5 

man, no one else; the Italian; the same magnetic touch in vv ^ ' 
his knocks as the Echo from the Swedish mountains. ' '* 

"Con^e in," I called out indifferently, without looking up 
from hiy knitting. "Bring five cents worth of coal in and , ' 
two cents of wood.; No change to-night. Good-night, ;' 
sir." 
' , "Good-evening, Ada." 

"Oh, my darling — not at all ! Rascal !. How dare you 
call on me again ? If you sit down I'll dimip you from the 
chair ; so begone/' 

"In a short, little while, Ada; may I take me time to 
explain ? 

"I had a falling out with my sister, by whom I reside 
when I am absent from here, and had not a cent in my 
pocket and had to tramp all the way from Brooklyn. My 
feet pain me very badly. May I make use of your foot- . 
^an to cool off my burning feet? Then I'll be off again ;j 




93 . . ;v H ^; ^atrtes sredS^^ 



. V^ '^' • 




that is, if you insist' thaf-I'shkir go; that is, ot' course, 
never to return to this hous^ any more.. It is a hopeless 
case to convince you how ardently I love you. Never 
mind a woman's looks, it is the good qualities a man ap* 
preciates in a woman. Five long years I have strived; 
I have done my utmost to please you. Ada, Ada, why,. 
ohj why do you not trust in me?" 

"I worship you, Charley.'* 

"You say that to me over and over again, 'Charley, how 
I love you.' Well, if you do believe and trust in me let's 
get married. If I ask you to come with me to the City 
Hall now will you come? Five years from thirty-five ta 
forty — ^the last five years until now I am a middle-aged 
man. I have devotedly spent those most precious five 
years in your house looking after your interests, and here 
I am a homeless wanderer. 

" 'When in the wide world I wander. 

My thought shall always be with you: 
Oh, I love you better than none other ; 
Yes, Ada, I love you better than you knew.* '■ 

It knocked at the door. Shall I open? 
^ "I saw the sign in the hall, and thought I better pay 
attention," said Mrs. Brown with a smile, entering. "And 
could Charley go for me to the drug- store? I hate to* 
dress and don't feel very well. I must take something. 
Would you mind if he goes for me, Mrs. / 

"Why, certainly not, Mrs. Brown. Will you oblige the 
lady, Charley?" 

'TVith the greatest of pleasure," Charley said, rose and 
with a bow to both of us followed the lady out of the 
room. . • ' . 

**Charley, Charley ; she called him Charley. They have 
met before probably. Poor, sweet, handsome darlings 
How I love him. Yes, sweet pet. You shall ha:ve your 
foot bath. I myself shall prepare it for your poor, tired 
feet, Charley, she called him; strange, though. How 
gracefully he swings one limb over the other. . What a 
fascinating movement, Chatley, she called him.' I won- , 
der what I dreamed last night? Did I dream of'anjgfels? 
NOj horror; I had, I think, a nightmare. What is that?.-: 




^Sopie^one was falling ufi. stairs; rj> Yesj ^ they ate 



'' -^ 




'each other! up stairs Jn the par lor. Fun only^ but it has 
been ;so' quiet up there. What does that hubbub mean? 
I better go up and listen. What keeps Charley so lon^ 
away?*'/ , 

. "Open, Mrs. Brown ; I am the landlady. It's too much 
racket in there, you'll break down tli^ chandelier, I am 
afraid.*' No answer, so I opened the door and stood on 
the threshold in a very perplexed way, looking around the 
room. 

The table before me was covered with full and empty 
whiskey bottles, cigarette butts and burned matches. My 
new red plush fancy tablecloth was ruined. The whiskey 
was dripping on my new carpet, bought on the instalment 
plan. In the lap of a very intoxicated man sat Mrs, 
Brown, also intoxicated. Both had very little clotties on- 
Charley was lying beastly drunk, prattling and glaring at 
me in the door where I stood and brandishing onie of the 
legs broken off the newly-repaired sofa. 

"My dear Mrs. Brown, your references asserted that 
you were a most desirable tenant for my parlor, and " 

"Down where you belong! Charley is an old friend of 
mine, and as long as I tip him I can do what I like in this 
house, and get out of that door or FU soon show you that 
you have not Mrs. Brown to deal with but 'Big Lou/ the 
terror of the town." 

"I beg your pardon. Madam Big Lou," I said with a / 
shaking voice. "That-man there on the lounge will be.J 
nabbed in the morning if he is still in my house. I shall' 
put him under bonds to stay away from here. * I intended 
to do so long ago, but his friend Jackson asserted that as 
soon as he is under lock and key I would relent and hock 
my socks to take him out again, and as I am well aware 
that my socks would not, be accepted in the pawn house, 
I hesitated to do so, besides I hoped against hop^ tiiat he 

would——" ^ . r*' /•;.'>' 

"Throw her out, Lou. Throw her out4#You got the 
courage to do it. .She is half dead, anyhow; ' 'Or tell her 
to blow herself. *•.! ain't going to sit down and listen to 
her idiotic rumble.' iGet at her, Lou ; get at her, you and 
I,'Lou;.youand'L'^ ^;, -i^'l^ '.■'\U\:br^'' ■ ■'■ 



\ -A 












The big woman: stiappe^^tip a whiskey bottle and came 

^:- V • stagig^ering toward me,,krid 1 skipped. 

1;* No\v, Ada, will you.^be good? Will this do you? Is 

I .there no shame in the man? Is he a parasite ?\ Yes, I 

^' ■;, suppose so. I was in love with a man who is crippled in 

< ;" his mind. He is a parasite, and this lady is a prostitute. 

' :, . . Well, I have to wait until morning. If I ask an officer to 
come in hell refuse to do so ; he refuses to go in a house 
without a warrant. In the station house they tell me to 

V go to court and swear out a warrant and have her dispos- 
sessed. That will cost me three dollars, and there is 

% only a nickel in my pocket. Is a man as rotten as all that, 
and are there no more respectable women ? In New 

' ' York references are no good. Fire one and there comes 
another and poke herself into my house. But I must 
sleep. Put yourself to sleep or you'll never get to Fifty- 
second Street in the morning. But where is the dime to 

' get the sleeping draught? Oh, ph! I'll hang up Billy, 

on the comer, for a pint. But where is the can? If I 

1^ only had a butt I could find that can in a minute. No 

\ butt, no can, no Charley, no marriage. No, no, no, no; 

'f . but fine! something to get some beer in and sleep, woman. 
To-morrow morning you have to attend to business. 
Where is that tin can? The tin can after all. . The tin 

bean after all. Ah, here it is in the window. I planted 
flower seed in it. Well, take a sauce pot. If I don't 
y,.-..\ sleep I'll go insane. Hawl L. Lulua, I moaned and fell 
f^ , ;in sleep in the old arm chair in the corner in my small 
j^f;^ front basement rpom. "Howl L. Lulua," I groaned, 
f;^-'i ^' opening my eyes and realizing the misery which sur- 
rounded me. A paper warrant. , Yes, there is such a 
thing as a paper warrant, I think. Five cents clam juice 
will help you on your feet, Ada; the nickel you have got. 
* Go and get it. Howl L. lulua, I sang when returning 

I// with the oysters — he had no clams. Howl L. luliaa, I 
moaned, casting my eyes over the Waldorf Hotel, seeing 
Swedish mountains in my imagination. "How are you, 
Mr, G— — ? Isn't, it lovely weather, sir? And. now to 
'business," ' - • ' ., ', . •• • i 

; :, . - *'How is business with you, poor woman ? Trouble iri 
£d\/ the house ^gain I see. v Why; don't you sell the property 



and be done witbl^^^r^-'V^f--' -■''^iK^i. ..i> /^> ;u.s:,,^i:a..vk- 










"Always be truthful,^ sin . You'dui not sefe, but you 

"^beard it.vH Yes, sir,' I'm in ike ' same Doat again. I have 

to* go to court this morning, and I^on't see how 111 get 

tip there.; You, sir, could help me some way if you 

jtvanted to do so." * 

"Why certainly m help you all I can. Is any one in 
the basement but yourself ? X want to have a talk with 
you." ' 

"No, Mr. G — — , I am all alone in there. Come right 
in." 

"Where is your husband, the violin player, and who is 
that bleach-blonde lady who comes and goes, and why 
don't you sell out and get out of all this? I'll get you a 
buyer for your property, and " 

"My husband ! Bah ! I borrowed money on him to 
pay the interest on the furniture and interest on interest^ 
and interest is due long ago. Yes, but it wasn't him that 
I was going to talk about. It was Big Lou, the terror of 
the town. Go up stairs to the front parlor and see and 
act in my behalf, and I'll treat you when you come down 
again. No, I cannot. I haven't got a cent in all the 
world." 

"You'll clear about fifteen hundred dollars. With that,., ^ , 
money you could go back to Sweden and live in happini6s&]v^ln|^ 
-with your friends, who would love and cherish you, as yo\x,^^ 
•deserve. Have you no relation in this country?" • ■ : l^M 

: "Selling, selling, selling. No selling for me, as I with '^'P^^ 
3, couple of dollars in my pocket can subdue my creditors^ ..^^ 
so I don't need to sell. No, sir, in Sweden you have to"** 
pay your way just as well as here, and to sponge. oh chari- 
table people is not my desire; besides, they wouldn't let 
me, so I stay where I am. Go up and fire that Big Lou 1 
for me. Get a cop in and let him nab that good-looking 
Charley and make that visitor pay for' the damage done 
there to the room. Then come back and I'll hang Billy 
for a pint so as I can treat you for your kindness. Hurry 
up! 'Are you afraid? I'll go with you. Come oh; I'll 
introduce you as the landlord. It'll work fine. Come 



on 



"I'll tell you what to do. Sign a paper so as I have 
something to show for myself if they are obstinate." 
. "Not necessary. Those white people are cowards when 




•J 



■■^' ' .■• '■.■•.■ -.v. ■ : ■ ..-: ':.? :-^. V:*? 




^^^99^: • 7^'^-,j"^^l'»rHB BIOGRAPHY oF^it;'' ::. ;• • y'.:" : 

they see their master. They have nq baggie to bother . 
them and she can be rea4y to leave in an hour's time," 

"You better sign a paper so as, I have something to 
show. The house is in a very badcondition, I think, isn't 
it?" ; . ^ 

"It IS, of course. It has been leaking continually. 
Your working men walking on my roof with nails in their 
shoes made holes in that fake tin which that fellow that 
lived on Third Avenue charged me seventy-five dollars 
for and guaranteed it would last forever. Now, when I 
come to think of it, was it you who sent the building de- 
partment to me late on Christmas eve? Yes, it was. The ^ 

inspector said the complaint came from No. , next to 

my house. He said that." 

"Why don't you sit down? What are you looking 
for?" 

"I am hunting for a butt. Well, I'll try to speak with- 
out one. I slept well last night. I had to drink a whole 
can to get that sleep, though — ^Howl L. lulua, Howll-ll, 
'the dark secret,' one flight up. As long as I have granted 
you an interview we may as well have it out. The little 
dark room up stairs which I have nicknamed 'the dark 
secret,' and Fll tell you the story. I let that one day to a 
poor sucker for a dollar a week, to pay me when he could. 
H To make the room pleasant I hung a lace curtain for the 
^^v blind windows. Well, the man came home tired odt from 
hard work all day and went to bed. iThere was but little 
; oil in the lamp. The poor fellow had to go to work earlv 
in t!ie morning and was afraid to oversleep himsell, ' 
sprung out of bed, stepped in a pool of water. It had been 
raining hard, as bad luck wanted it, and had been leaking. 
, He fumbled around for his clothes, felt the lace curtains,. 
, • peeked out, hit his head against a wall, felt under 'the 
bed for his 'flask,' couldn't find it, but saw the hole in the : 
wall under the window, peeped in and saw the remnants 
of a great war, yelled out in terror, fled from the house in 
a nude condition and I have never seen him since. The 
following day I read in the paper that a raving maniac, 
flying through the streets and screaming at the top of his ^ 
, voiccithat.he was the only living man left in Santiago, . 
. and that he was the great Mr^ Roosevelt, Now^ all this \ 
is your fault, sir. You or your working liian has made^r- 



i 



that hole, and as it* is your hole you ought to see to it. 
you couldn't expect me lo do that. I have holes enough 
of my own to see to. I do wish I could find a butt. I 
am so 'hungry. Poor Mr. Wilmer, who. helps me out a 
little, told a little on hearing the building department in- 
spector on Christmas eve calling for the lady, of the house ; 
he came running down stairs to receive the man, but in- 
stead of turning the oil stove down before leaving the 
room he stood aghast. The hall room was dense with 
smoke. He got the window open; the smoke streamed 
from the window. Jubely, my neighbor, yelled, 'Fire at 
144!' The fire engine came, but there was nothing doing, 
and my neighbor's green shutters were a^ain closed, with 
a bang-bang. Well, poor Mr. Wilmer tried to get along 
in the room ; got himself so full of smoke inside and out- 
side and had to leave the Bohemian singer where he was 
employed that time and tal<e.a position as a chimney 
sweeper, so as he could continue, h© said, to pay me his 
rent for the hall room very punctually, one dollar and 
twenty-five cents every Saturday night at the stroke of 
nine. I found a butt, sir." /;■ 

"Here is a match. Light it* Soithere, now, sit dow^ '^ 4- i 
and let us talk business. Where is your zither? I. have ' j ^^} 
not heard it lately." ' * . » " .'k^j/- 

"Stolen, sir; stolen. Those foul thief s steal everything. jS- . "^ 
HowlL.lulua. Howl L. lulua, HowU-ll." , f^\- > 

"How is your cellar? Is there water in it?'* j^\j . ' ^ 

"No, sir, the cellar is dry, like myself. A good pl^ce / • 
for inspirations, though. My husband's dream. You've;*^ '• 
got a piece of sculpture in your art gallery which is worth- 
a fortune^ Where did you get it? What? The-Board' 
of Health! No, sir, my house is in a sanit^y condition/ 
Was it you who builded onto the woman who owned this, 
house before me? No? But you shouldn't have done it. 
Mrs. Palmer said you, her lawyer, skinned her, and she 
lost $4,000^ at least she said so* Deprived the poor, lone \ 
widow from air^ sunshine and the expenses." 

"How is the roof-^n6, I mean — are you troubled with 
bedbugs?";Vvv'/ . :h''-'--2%' '>ir'-"^-"-^ 
"You/are fob inquisitive, "sih You should have had ^ 
half the expertses of the fire escape.? Your building was ^ 
more dangerous to the neighborhood than mine, as yours ' 



v.„' 



r 98 THK BlOOBAf HT OF i. 

' f \ ' ' ' • ' • ' * 

was a glass factory, I— oh, you wanted to know about 
the roof. The chimney,- you mean, don't you ? I told 
you already about the roof. Well, there were a few bricks 
off that chimney ; the violin player went up to mend it one 
morning — to mend it. He was clever about repairing, 
but careless. He sprang on the diimney to look into it, 
as it smoked a little. The bricks gave way ; he fell on his 
back— bump, bricks and plaster on top of him; and there 
I found hina when I went up, but as it was the highest 
time for his rehearsal on, his friends were waiting for 
hin-x — they were dry and so was he. • He shaked off the 
; plaster and off he went, and there I stood, alone on the 
roof, and looked at the disaster done. Hand me a match. 
He has gained his highest desire in life, though. He is 
a leader of music. I saw him in. Coney Island ; his 'silk 
. handkerchief between violin and chin. Sis fact was as 

\ sad and pretty as ever* I saw no baton in his hand, but 

he was leading the waiters to and fro, the cheepies was 
happy with their handled glasses. I wish I had another 
butt. I am so hungry. Can you hear them up stairs? 

Nor 

I 7, "Well, I'll lay them bricks and stop that smoking for 

'^ you, lady, for the price of a pint. I never have a cent, 

though I earn four dollars a day. My wife takes posses- 
sion of everything, and it all- goes down into her colossal 
belly, I can do nothing with it — her, I mean. What am I 
up against, anyhow? Well, lady, I'll fix that chimney 
with or without beer. She is after me. I must run. 
Heaven, there was indeed the Colossus voice — z bassoon. 
There ! A bottle crashed through the window in the 
roof door and tlie filthiest language followed the bottle. 
She is only envious. I have to go and pacify her. A 
pint will do it. Well, sir, failure after failure." ^ 

■*You need a man who can handle a saw and a hatchet, 

lady. That curley-headed fellow ^oing in and out with 

J^ that sooty tin can is no good. He is silly, but cotton will 

J keep you warm. Fll do all the repairing your propert>' 

is in need of. Pay me when you. c?in. You are not. a 

bad-looking woman, not by a long shot. Get rid of, that 

' silky fellow, who has hair in his head.^ I'm bald, but own 

\, a cottage in the country— all new improvementW-^-Tr",, 

\ . ''But you go up and fix that chimney andlll consider 




'.matters/' He did j but did you see that smoke 'after- 
wards? Yes, you did. It smoked so we couldn't make a 
^. cup of. tea in tlie whole house. How is it you know who 
.it was? It was McGrath, so I wrote to the man to come ; ;: 
.and he came right away/ . * , 

"I didn't thiiJc it' necessary to replace the pipes on the ' ; 
chimney; I left them on the roof. I know who swiped ' 
^ them pipes, 'though." ' . i M. 

^ "Let this old ramshackle building go and marry cotton, 
instead, of silk — in my house you haye all new improve-; -^; 
ments." ' * ^ \ i* 

**Father, mother sent me after you. She is getting^ / 
Svorse. She thinks she is going to-day — and father, you 
have to lend me a dollar* 1 ain't .got a cent in my 
pocket." : r 

"You confounded rascal! You animal, you! How, 
dare you follow me up ? I'll haye you sent away for hatig- * 
ing your own father. Fetch back the pipes which you 
stole from this woman. When your mother is dead there ' 
is no one to lick you, so I thought this lady here ihight 
help me out. Good-day, lady," said the man and went off. I f 
Did you hear all this tfirou^h the basement window? ' v^ 
Yes, you did. Your right-side ear is moving a little — /; ' 
where is my glasses? Can you hear them up stairs? ' ! 
No? Well, the gate surrounding my building is coming f^:>^ 
dowUi The area to my building is sinking down. The /'';:i[ 
stoop to my building is sagging, and all through your 
heavy concerns going in and out daily. When you build 
and rebuild your many concerns in there, see to it, I say, 
or I'll sue you for damages. What?" 

"Your rooms need painting, I think. , Who broke down , 
that hall door? Help me to find my glasses and look for 
a butt I am starving to death. Thank you, sir, but find ; / 
, a match so I can light it. Thank you, sir. That ma- . ' 
chine of yours which you had when your place was a 
glass factory shaked my building night and day, and two . 
women in my house became insane throught it. One of 
the women, she had the skylight room, got in her head • 
that the Gerry Society was telephoning^^ for the police to 
come and take her children away from' her, and Palm 
Sunday I was occupied on that roof trying to fix it up 
• with some metallic paint The woman in the skylight 



^1 






\ 



100 f , iPHE BIOaBAPHT OF A 

>;t^V> ••■ "■ '•..'■-'. ' '-^ ■ ■ ■ ) 

^t : irToom came on the roof with her youngest in her arms, 
~, lioth stone-blind drunk, he naked. I guessed her inten- 

tion to throw the baby over the roof. I grasped the child. 
and hid it. Then I tried to get the mother from the roof, 
but she was out for a fight, and knocked me out in the 
first round. I yelled for the police. The police same eve 
. came and treated her to a pint and business was at an end. 
*, Did you hear and see that, sir? No, maybe you don't. 
, , ;. ^ ^ut, well, the other woman was, I think a lunatic when 
Vy "^ she moved in. Her husband was a drug clerk out of 
Svork. She used to yell so when the building was shak- 
:;ing, and thinking- he could cure her he took her one even- 
ing to your hole in the wall. She saw and yelled v^orser 
than ever. I got them out of the hot|se some way, but 
she came back at night arid broke every window in the 
basemient. He did come, mind you — ^the police, I mean — 
and got away with them. The following morning there 
came a police officer to me and told me that I was accused 
for wholesale murder and had a private grayeyard in the 
Tiouse. Go up and look into Mr. G— : — 's hole in the wall, 
I told him, and you will see the graveyard, but he said 
I'd better come up, and I had to go. The woman was 
loony, of course, and was sent to an asylum for the insane, 
. and I thought I was rid of her, but no ; one day I went up 
^ ' to answer the door bell, and there stood my lunatic in the 
''\%' company of the fair, fat and forty. As the lady asked one 
j\';V of Uie men. 'Yes,' said my loony in reply. He passed 
\flr'fine by and went down stairs, but returned in a few 
:^\ r , /minutes, ■. ■ . 

^[* i, -J- *'T wo flights up; first door you come to. Look under 

Mhe window and you'll undersand, sir. 'Good enough for 

' a novel,' he said, smiling, and took the woman under his 

I'r; Jr >arm and led her off. The other man lingered and told 

^ V^ ^ ^ ;Vme that the woman had come to the police headquarters 

tV^'i * ^ in Mulberry Street in great excitement, stating that she 

:m - had fled from a house where there was a most horrid-look- 

> ^ : f.^^S ogress sitting in a corner chair and every one who 

;^ ' .^came down with thle roonirent and did liot hand back the 

, ■ ^soiled linen: ?ift^r they, had received the clean would be^ 

^ put through: a p^achineijtndi^purdered. . She had seen,;she 

'^^ v > said, skulls, hands, 'tonestcut^from bleeding ff^^ audi all 

\&^4:^fthese horri4|thmg4is^ g<ifiS|^on ^in^^ bole, . sir,_ Can 



^ ■ 



• f.f' 



y 



KBW TOBK HOTBL SCRUB 



V ^. :,v lot 



you blame me that I am mad ? No — Heavens, they ,are ' 
moving up stairs. Go up, man." 
' "Sign a paper and I will." ^ ' » 

"My poor brain, sir, is at a standstill. I must have a 
fresh cigarette." 

"What kind do you smoke? I'll go and get you some." 

"Cicle. No others ; twenty for a nickel. Don't forget 
the matches or you'll have to go again." '*- " . ^ 

"Puff away now. They smoke in high society^ and the^ * ; 
Cicle is the pack at present" ' ' ' < 

. "You said some i time ago that you would, sell your 
property if you got a good price. Name the price and 
I'll see about it.'^ 

"I said at that time, and I say it again, that after satis- 
fying my creditors I must clear $5 ,000. But you know, 
and I know; that the property is not worth that much 
now ; that maybe in the future — I can wait, though, punc- 
tum." r . • 

•"You would be a great deal better off now in a nice 
new flat, with all the hew improvements." 

' "A bath would do me good, sir, I don'tsdeny that. But 
•-what would become of me with the $1,500 seeking a home 
among strangers ? This house, though miserable, is any- 
bow a home, where I can to a certain degree live inde- 
pendent I suffer most from insomnia. Do you know % 
what that means? Sitting night after night without 
• sleep. Slumber lightly now and then. Sure in this room 
I can pace the floor ^ sing and moan in my misery. I dis- ^ 
turb no one. I can wrap myself in a comforter and lie 
underneath the stoop. No one sees me. The fresh air 
arouses my appetite and I can creep down the avenue and 
get sonle clam juice. Oh, thfere stands the five cents 
rworth of oysters. I cannot swallow them. If I wish to 
cryT can klipper on my zither and my eyes are flooding 
and it'relieves me. Can I do this in a strange place ? ' No. 
So cut out the selling part. I shall not sell ^without I 
<tould moye to the country."^ > ^ 

'^: "I see, my dear woman, that I have to speak more 
J)lainly with you. Are you aware of the ^appearance of 
the house, and the comment in the neighborhood, and do 
you know the house has a bad name?? - 
i "My house has what, sir?" <[ [-» * ^ 



•■*•!'•■.•/' .■.*:>' .> ■;-V;v'^-!.;*'-^M''^r;-/^'*%>-iV'.'^^v 



** 






102f ■'>'' ' i '^ THE, BIOGRAPHY OP Jl , : /' 

"A very bad name; and the police may come any mo- . 
ment and raid you," , j, . ^ 

'•For what, m!ay I ask ? There must be some reason/' 
^Tor running a disorderly house,, You are, as » jrou* 
know, housing disorderly people." ^ 

"Whose fault is that, sir? Could I last night have got 

in an officer my house would be clean now. Noyr, I have: 

\ to 'drag ntyself to court. 'She owns real estate,' they wilt 

say, so there is no hope of a postponement for me. Youi 

are my only hope, sir, and go up and get them out. Strike 

a match, sir. These prostitutes have ruined my life, sir ; 

: my brain and my body are gone. Go and get a pint and a 

pack, and don't forget the matches or you have to go 

,againl" • 

"By and by. Listen to me. If I can find a customer 
who will buy your property and give you the price you ask 
will you sell? Yes or no." 
. "Yes, sir." \ 

"Well, women are changeable, and you are one of them. 
This paper here states that if I have found a buyer for 
your property who will buy your house and lot — the fur- 
niture I don't want — ^you cannot draw back. You will be 
bound to sell t have three months' time to attend to this. 
Read and sign/' 

"Why are you so anxious that I shall sell, sir? Even 
if I changed my mipd, that wouldn't hurt you any." , 
'/For my own benefit. Your house looks disorderly, 
is disorderly, and I am your suffering neighbor. Have 
you understood nie? If you should change your i mind in 
seHing I stand there like a fool, and that I will not Hsk. 
So come and sign your name to this paper and let us be 
done with it. Big Loo will be ousted from your place and 
you can go and get your pint and your pack and your 
, matches and go to bed jmd sleep/' . •., - ^ 

., '*Oh, my, there she is; She fell against the piano, and 
it is not mine. If she falls into^the pier mirror she will 
break it; blood will be nmning. :. The neighbors will yell 
murder^ the police will then come running, my house will ^ 
be pulled, I, will be nabbed-rrno one to bail me out : I will 
yell and scream. Tt^q, ambulance /v^ill, nab me: wd J gb to • 
the lunatic asylum. , There JHl get crazy; I'lKget crazy^-? 




; r ^I am crazy. Hold your finger where you want me to sigri,^ 
andlilsign/* Signed! ' ^ • >■•- 

"Are you Big Loo, the terror of the town? Yes? i 
Well, 1 give you half an hour to get out Good-morning, 
"' lady/' \ ^ ' ' ■"• ■ . •';• 

"Good-morning, Elsa, How are you, Elsa? I did not ; 
. ^ see you for a long time. Where have you beeii ?'* 

"You are a wonderful woman, Elsa* What did Mr* 
G — !- do in here?'* 

"He only helped me to get rid of an undesirable tenant 
Where have you been so long?" ' ' '^ 

"You are a wonderful woman. He hac^ a paper in his 
hand, and looked so satisfied. Did you sell ? I hope not 
The property is going up in value. You did not sign >. 
anything^ did you r' ' 

"Yes, I signed ah option, he called it, for the full I 
amount I asked for the house. Where have you been so 
long?" 

■ "You are a wonderful woman, Ada, but I want to see , 
M that paper." 

'^ "Go in and see, but don't stay too long." 
Pv "You are a wonderful woman, Ada, but you have? 
' sigtied over your house and home to Mr. G— — ^n for the ^ 
; sum of $7,000. What is the matter ? She is dying.'* Get . 
'/,some whiskey, quick, quick — gin, whiskey or beer or ciga-1, 
, rettes, or watei- — anything. Yes^ Charley, she is dying. ;^ 
••Get the doctor, and don't forget the gin, or you have to 
. go again. • \ ' 

: ' "I heard that you have been sick, .lady. We came here 
to see what we can do for you. Do you need any money? 
' Here is some; take it You can hzye more at any time., 
: You only need to sign for it." 

"Don't touch that money, madam, by your life> 
f and soul, don't touch it," came from a voice in the open 
'. door.> It was Wilmer, in tlie sooty hall room.' "What 
do you want with this sick woman ?" said Wilmer to the 
/ gentlemen who stood before* me, one holding a paper dol- 
lar in his hand. 

^ "We have business transactions to perform with the 

V lady,' not concerning you whatsoeven Who are you,/ \? 

•v;anyhow?" ■.^' -' "-% 

. ;•■ ,|.. ;.^ ■• „. . . ■ . , ^ r^\m- 



J) 104;, / THE BIOGKAPHY OF A '■ : 

'^ y^ I--- :•''- v; ' '/ ' i .•^.- • ■ • '• '■ •^' ■ . ■■■ . 

"My name is Wilmer, in the theatrical busirieiss rat 'K' 
present with the Bohemians, a tei^ant of this lady, and as" 
, I am a man of punctuality I pay 'my room rent, one dol- ^', 
' I2ir and twenty-five cents per week, every Saturday night 
\at the stroke of nine. Business transactions you have 
■with this woman?" 
: "With an imbecile." 
, ■ "She is tortured into that condition." 

"Money, money, money she yells night and day. Ah, ; ] 

. give me a dollar to send down to C or he forecloses. 

Ah, give me a dollar to send to Maryhill or he takes the . 
, piano. Ah, give me a dollar to send to Nassau Street 
. 'and he won't take the furniture— only a dollar to each of 

' . them, she says 

"Well, here is one dollar to begin with. Take it, lady, 
.and sign your name here," 

"Don't take tliat dollar and sign your name to nothing. 
Good-by, gentlemen, I want to close tlie door after me.", 
"Why, Mrs. Parker, I am very glad to find you here, 
but how.did you get in?" 

"I crept through the window, Mr. Wilmer. I found a . 
key for the door in her pocket and I have been hustling. 
;I Indeed, I have pushed a whole pound of raw beefstejJc 
.^^i^down in her stomach. Then I had to go myself and have 
V<the can filkd. I made her drink the most of . it.» /She will 
sleep now for about twelve hours, so we can talk the mat- 
ter oyer. What has happened to her now again ?"^, . 
■ ;';: "The trouble is I have very little knowledge of her af- . , 
.!. fairs. She cannot ^peak coherently. She only yells for 
:;:/ money. The house. is nearly tenantless, and'thos^ who 
.f'. are there don't pay, I am afraid." . . y, 
'>^ "After I have heard her story to-morrow I shall write , . 
• /^^to n^yifather in Nyack and ask his advice^ JHe has been , 
;^^^'a prosperous lawyer in his time, .. He has retired. /He is . 
^'getting old, but not rich. , One don't get rich when one is. : ,; 
',';; go6d; and honest, Mr.. Wilmer. .iAri you still with the . 
\ Bohemians, sir?" ;... . >y .^r .! . '. . ; ' . . 

*^Yes, Mrs. Parker, and ^e are booked for Atlantic ifr 
}^, City next summer. ;,I must be off now.; : I am very glad/j^;^ 
^? " that you^^rejthere,iran4^1et nof one <come' near.; the{ ^*^' 

r -i ^reature.*kriU«ec>ybu whcn^ I come back, 'i :Xq ifti'^ 



S 



^v> 



"My Dear-Daughter: ' V^ . 

^ "Tell ? the lady, that the signature is binding if she' 
signed her name in the presence of a witness and took a 
dollar. She has then to give up the property without she " , 
could prove that she was intoxicated or not in her right ^ ■ 

mind, of- if she did not know what she was signing, Tiien 
the man has committed a serious crime, but tliese things 
have to be proved, my . daughter. She must have a 
lawyer. I wish I could go over to New York myself, but ^ , •* 
feel I 'am getting old and dare not attempt to do. it. See . • 
that she has an honest lawyers A lawyer she mUst have.- » ^ ^ 
How are * you, dear daughter ? A kiss from your *old '. . 
father,'wfao loves you best of all. ; ■ 

' • ^ "Your Loving Father/' i 

. ' ■ \ (• ■ ' ■ ..-■._•.■■ 

"I did not take a dollar. He did not offer me anything. 
Had he done so I would have taken it quick enough, not | 

knowing. We were all alone in the basement. My con- | 

dition at^that time I cannot tell, but I was aware that I i 

signed something. My brain is not strong to figure out ^ / 

what it was, Leila. Lawyer. Lawyers, and H— I hate | 

the very sound of the name." I 

"I am afraid that the man has put his foot into it, and 
tries to draw it out again. Shall I go in and see what he: ' ' '^^ 
has got to say ? Yes ? Keep the door locked." ^ > '^ J* V 

"He turned purple in his face! He hinted about a nice *;t|fe;|; 
present if I could square up this matter between you and>:>:|^^ 
him. He said he was willing to pay a little more for the /^^|J: f 
property if this could be arranged. He was sorry for you^ SS^|l^^ 
he said, and meant it for the best: 'Shall I go through tlie^VfJ^^r 
house and look things over? > Yes?, :<; ^'^ ' '' y s^kl^^'4fM^'--r:. 

"I did not know that your housfc w;as m such a terrible^? ;^: 
state.^ Be brave and listen.'. Part of;the ceUingf^hascorrief^JI^^^^^^^ 
down in the back parlor of the house,ilandithe*floors^are^^^^^^ 
covered with plaster* -^ I ^ found one 'poorVwoman sick in^^j ; 
bed ; poor ^ fellow— her .;husbknd I meanr4was sitting on^i} 'i' 
the bed Claying:* ^ I left a little chan^^ out the. table and; told ^. i , 
them' in your name not to worry alx)Ut the sign in the hall. ' 
.Ttie skylight has dome off.rvTheii^plasterifin the- halls 
threatenslto come down. Wilmer'slrpdm is covered with \ 
■soot an inch thick, but the Worst is!fhltt6ilet.i^The crQck-^MA>^': ; _ 
ery has come off, the'water is runnilig through-^so, don't ..-' r 




i 



*#•• 



4- 



*^f'.r^ 



yTHB BIOOBAPQT 07 A: 






jump. Now, what can you do? Sell, I say, and make 



i^*f^' *v V*^^ **^®* '^^ ^*' Coirie with 'Hie io the country^;,*; My 
*if/ *'^;has promised me one thing, a pony. I will rent a cc 



papa 
cottage 



^^'' 



*^' — heavens — maybe you are thinking thaf.Xtajji working 

/If, for that present from Mr. G— — . Not at Skll,[niy papa 

^jl^'gives me what I ask. ^ Get yourself out pf this unutterable 

v^ *fli misery and move with me to the country and regain your 

\%/ JS^J health. That's all. Now suit yourself/' ' 

^' ^ j^''^ ^r *'Go*and get me another pound of raw beef, and a pint 

\ ." iO'^and a pack, and in twenty-four hours I shall try once 

^^^ ^JiS4 4nore, ^ I have grown to love this old building, ^nd it is so 

)^:?^ ifl ^^d to give it Up.r ; :. V, f ; Yv 

>: '.{r / rf <'/rAin't'»it^ loyfely weather, Wilmer ? Go an4 get an 
':.,,;.;^>t^ oxtail,* and a large marrow bone and some soup' greens, 
' ;.^^ .j^^^^^^ are going to cook some soup. I 

1^^^^^^ ^ good letter frpm mother, ^y father is dying and 
"*' ""V wishes to fiiee me., I must be off to Nyack at once. Giye 
?i>jg|' me my,hat and gloves, and cook the soup, and feed her 
'S^'andvfeed yourself. • There is some more in my clothes. 
^? ^' Shut the basement door after me, both of you;'* . \ , 
jCVr.'^. ^ Following morning I went out to the gate and. looked 
;^: jf,if up arid dowii, and there right enough came a despondent- 
t'V looking tramp along, i r. j: .''>...-' ' . •( rf^^ 
■;sv; /' r**There is someoxtail soup left in the pot and in my 
r..' ^/f pocket is a dime, but you have to work for it. i Come in- 
side, and I'll explain.'', . <.: J : • t , 
. *^Mary, Mother of God, will bless your good heart, lady. 
I am your man and I'll do alll can for you," 
, . The plaster soon disappeared,, with the assistance of a 
couple more fellows. Wet^washed up the, room the. best 
^ we could. Tlie ceilings we covered with sheets the same 
't^i-nt^ color of the ceiling.u I then advertised furnished rooms 
^;for light housekeeping people, children and washing al- • 
^5^]ow€d, no references < required ;$i. ID and upwards. ^ It 
worked fine I At jive in the^ morning , both bell^ . rang. 
Room ?fter room .was let, ( I The house was packed; wi^i 
^people and when I retired in the evening I discovered that 
my .stocking resembled the sack of : a ragpicker, >?^;)vyv? 
l^/^'Are you Mrsr R,^^es?ivWell, I'ye got a letter ^foi^ 
^Jyou/lTakeiti|frx/ , ■;■•'"■ ' -r ,■ .S: -v^.--i^'--.-. Vf : i^. 
^'A large enyelopc.was ui luy hand^^and the man whj 
it there^as^gdrie,,;jr- „, . ./ . iiiil^A. ' ' 





jh0r}"Arth thous there, Wilmer? Don't stay, there biit come 
"^^C! in and read this. It's a summons from a lawyer in Trirfijty 
'-Building, named V—r: ' V/ ■ 7. I 

Mi i^fyWe wSint you in court to tell the Judge why you 
^^ should not give up yotir house and home to ^e man nfxt 
'/door.V Shidl I go in ^d see him? He must be a ' " ^/w u'u 
' but he has an honest fkce, though/' ^ * ^ , ^r*?; 

^ "Yes, but get a pint and a pack, and don't forget the » 
; f^ matches or you have to go again/' ' " V . ' \ 

\rM\^l wouldn't rush the grovirler for Queen Victoria, ktid • 
' '^as I am an honest man and a man of punctuality, and pay = - * 
I my room rent, $1.25, very punctually every Saturday : v^- 
K^v nighty at^the stroke of nine, I'll go in and see that this maii* ^ 
. vuG^-^ets hung, including his friend W-^r,>ind*the real ^ 
' . estate agent in 34th street/' * ' .. ' 

^.H^y'I; dreamed 'that I was hanging to a cornice outside of 
•:/^ my. four-story brick building and supported myself- by L 
? the pit of my thumb, •> ' 

;^ /»-:"Say, Ada, why don't you seek the assistance of the 
YiL— Aid Society? They help poor people* I'll take yotl 
^down there/' , ^ ; 

.f •^"Wilmer; go over to Billy on the corijer and tell him 
^;from me to torrow me a quarter on that alarm xlock and ;: "^ 
V you and I will drive to the L- — Society. Go across the 
'street to my former tenant and borrow from hini my ^^j 
" bloodhound to watch the house until we come bick. Take // 
i little Wiking with you. The bloodhound is a thorough- ♦ 
bred and Wiking is a freak of nature. Two-ta, two, you ;'\. V 
^ know the bloodhound will handle G-^i and little Wiking ;;t 
'^ • will handle H — ^n, and don't forget the matches or you i . 
•'have to go again." , " ^ '• •' ^ 

. i/v Five cents entry fee I paid, and was admitted to the- 
;> L— ^. I paid and was admitted, sat down to watch the? :.; 
show ; and not long and I was admitted to the head man, • 
/JSP a lawyer by the name of L . This gentleman started ,. 

fin to pump me good and hard for half fui hoiir, and witli V 
great satisfaction I went with Wilmer, who was waiting 



iii^ • 



f 



'outside for me to go home. 

There are only three days left and no letter from L 
I dreamed of the letters S-E-T-L-Q-ZW.v :"Wilmer, go -^v 

Bdown to the Lf- Society and find out .what my dream ' ,^' 

^ nieaiiL , Give me a match and be off/' i- , « • :■' j '^ * 



^ 






-. ■'' 108 THE BIOGRAPHY OF A 

*'! saw him, and I saw the letters. He wanted to know/ 
^ , who 1 was; I told. him, of course, that I was rathe:r sooty,; 
; '" but I was ah honest man; that my name was Wilmer, a'\ 
. tenant of your house, in the theatrical business, t with the- 
. Bohemians — ^booked for Atlantic City, and as I was a 
; man of punctuality, I paid my room rent, $1.25 per, every , 
Saturday ni^^ht at the stroke of nine. I put tfie thumb; 
i / screws on him and he telephoned to the lawyer, W — ^/' 
> ■ . ' You'll have a bitter fight with him in the morning/' *» ^^ 
sp "Begone, woman," I hissed to a head in the broken' 
: ;' ivindow-pane. "If no cop has the courage to lock .you up, ' i 
; ^1 I'll do it myself, so as I hdve done one thing to be proud' 
^: o /*• ^ 

. ; . Elsa', my bosom friend, the woman who was bom with • 
4 yeil before her face, stood before me waggling from one 
^ ; French heel to the other. Her beflounced silk skirts held ' 
I K \"iigracef uUy in one hand, and an empty gin bottle in the 
l^.;r"othen^^ .•.-.•: ^ . ^ :.\;.. ^•/■■ 

*^You are a wonderful woman ! How I came in through ^ 
2i'''. this window? Future will tell you. Let me have a nickel. 
The old man in the Willow Tree is sick in bed. The bar* 
tender has no heart. I am your only bosom friend and I 
would run my feet off for you^ — ^to save you trouble." 
^^;"Throw her out, Wilmer.^ We have business to at- 
tend to/' , .a 

/ /'Throw me out? Me, tlje banker's daughter? Curse, 
you, creature, imbecile, cigarette fiepd, can-^sher and 
money-lender, skinner, a sceptic and unbeliever. She' 
denies her Lord, Jesus Christus, and {take my cqrse with 
;yovi to the grave. Go, woman, and from to-day you shall'', 
scrub, and I shall be your head cleaner, Dare steal the^^ 
sapolio or the scrubbing brush 1"^ •; -^k'^i- \> -It * 
, *^'Xou are no bosom friend of mine,: but I'll press you tqj; 
iiiy bosom in spite of all. Come here, darling !*' said. W1I7I 1 
rneriVand he took the woman in his arms japd lifted her up^,, 
and; both disappeared through the broken windowvframe;^-^. 
and' I have not, seen them since; her, I mean. ^Wilmetl^ 
returned, through , the- basement door,: as- he. had a keyv<^,, ^ 
P|(i,f or the door in his pocket,, v^fy ^ ^i^viiO- * ..i .''i>'4 tt*ir#^ 
1 < :| '*The heart of ,;queen is tufping-^ij^up ^ again, ,the,4 poor^ 
^^^^ woman' said, and yoUfwill^be,i:^\v?rded,tghe told nie.tqj' 
.WF^.^yQU, and slie J3, 3or ry ' f o^jArhat^^^ . v 'M 




KEW YouK notiff^itTklfd 
^The-heirt o£ queen which I' gave 1a as poor, utihapp^^ 





;^|Elsa*s prophecy/ has to turn up in the end. No letter 

■iTomMr.l^r^ — , the lawyer of the L Society, so I 

;; have -to go down myself and show him the mug of the 
^. heart of. queen. " ' . 

Vf> "Wecan do nothing for you, madam. We only help the 
^^poor in their wages. You are not poor. You are tlie 
owner bf rea| estate.'* i 

^ ; "' "But why did you not say so before? To-day is Satur^ ■ ' 
' day^and at Monday morning at the strike of nine I.have^, 
^ i/to meet G— ii, H— m, and W— r, in court, to show cau?e'; ;^ y 

'why they- can't take my house ahd home from me.'^ "^ ' ^ v • 
. ^ ^^ "You'll get a lawyer, and youll have to excuse Jtie. /We*. ^^ 
; are ov]^r^busy just now." '' f.'v; ^f.v^^ <;;V:/ 

i ^.,VWet a rag and rub some of the dirt off my face',' ahd-,*. ^;/ 
Upinjup my hair, and lift me out df bed. It is Mon^zy-iK 
morning and I have to stand in front of the court 'anclifi 
'; -wangle my tongue before tlie Judge. So, that will dqiV;'*| 
sflsn t it lovely .weather ? No, it is raining ; so long." ^ ' . ■ ; 
fetl stood in the court room and some one turned mfe. j^. r 
Isround to the door, and I stood outside and looked atjt .►&! 
lan who was sweeping around the courthouse. ' '^;,^»ff 
' '*Ali-h-h," he said, ''another real estate owner/ Runi^^^P 
-■woman, and get a lawyer. You can't run? Well, creepr -l / 
then. Across the street, then, you'll get one. Be offj and :- '♦' 
' '^I'U help you across the street." ^ ^ 

'/* I got scared and huddled myself through the park and 
^ there I stood in the middle of the street again in a very - 
.,f perplexed attitude, as I saw the cars comirig and going, ' 
iand stood nailed to the ground, but yelled out in ^deadly ' 
#'" terror. ^ ^ --'r" *^~^^- 

I felt two strong arms encircling poor me and I; was * 
lifted over tothe sidewalk, the summons in my/sooty, 
lame fingers disappeared. * ^ a)" 

'Take Heaven's mercy on me ! Where did you get tliat I 
>:: piece ^of humanity, officer? What is yourname, young % / 

,::1ady?"A : -y^^'-.--^ 

:■ ''The^heart of queen, sir, and Elsa, my. bosom friend, 
>told me that I had to turn up in the end and here I am. ^ I ,' 
mit a lawyer,: sir/' >^ '\ -5^ ^"^ C^l|f] 

ll^can do nothijig with a w^omati'Vho cnes. Officer, ^p^.^^ 
mKk^rlaupT fnrf !hamhers street; to ^ the deutchan, Yott^ } / 



L:^ ' tjani^' 




THE TBIOQEAJ^ttT 6t 



' "Ij^i have plenty of time, young ladv. Officer, I can do nothing 



^^; ,^ with a woman jvho cries.'- , 




What does Rossini, the wondenil poet, say in his best 
iO 1 ,ijjj*^ wind flapped loose, the wind was stilf; - ' ' 



M 



\"-^h 






the wind has 
stopped blowing.- ^What have you got to say in behalf of 
this summons ?,, ; , r. 

," 'Between my knees my forehead was — 'v ; . 

J My lips drawed in said not, alas, ^ •*^ • ' ^ 

f,A My h^ir was over in the grass; \ ^\v-' 

'v'yMy naked ears heard the telephone going; * *•/ ;^ v 
My eyes, wide open, had the run '; ; v y 

. .Of €ome ten "runners" to fire upon. . \,:'- ^ ! ; V' 

y .Among those runners, a particular one V . ♦ ' 

<\I had met on the Battery, and had hs^d a cup*with him. ; 

• From perfect grief there need not be ^ 

'Wisdom or even memory; > ; ir^^ i^, 

.< One thing, that heart, remains to me, — ^'':^\'y^^^;y''\'-, 

I The Bowery runner was a Jonah to me/ *n > 

-"••v.^ - / •■ ' . ' . •• . •:■' ■^^v-\-f::s;i;:- 

,;-: "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. My name? Look at the 
summons in your hand and you'll see all my names before;^/ 
you, sir. Pick out a couple of the best and attend to busi^.^ 





J.yourJ^e before? 

ii'i^ipr me once?" 



Wasn't you cleaning out my chimiieyy 

i^!»,"No,;as long-as you don't knowja'friend because, he 
•^ h as cleaned^bimself J hope to introduce my^f Jto|yon, 





lat th^fipk^f nine/ and liam here awaiting your eonx^ 
"Glad to see you, Mr. Wilmer, and, as I was thiiikin|r^ fc i 





divorced from my husband, John Shea, who slumbers itt^^i 
^- , his grave, poor fellow; and,* Mn Wilmer, tell the lawyer •!; 
J ,. Mr* Wr—ri that he is seemmgly the man with the hideous; |; 
^oH tongue and I have mentioned him in my book that I inr;;- 
f ^tend to write, as soon as I have gathered enough mfotina'^" * 
^tion about all of them" ' #\ ", *i * 'i£- - ^i\;i^ 



1g" 









4' 



v-^ij; 






i ^K% i 3^HE END 






c 



^-y. 



f- ,.. . 
I., V ;^