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- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
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- such a scar that the air of Paradise might not erase it. And it is a
hard and cruel thing thus in early youth to taste beforehand the pangs
which should be reserved for the stout time of manhood, when the
gristle has become bone, and we stand up and fight out our lives, as a
thing tried before and foreseen; for then we are veterans used to
sieges and battles, and not green recruits, recoiling at the first
shock of the encounter.
At last gaining the boat we pushed off, and away we steamed down the
Hudson. There were few passengers on board, the day was so unpleasant;
and they were mostly congregated in the after cabin round the stoves.
After breakfast, some of them went to reading: others took a nap on the
settees; and others sat in silent circles, speculating, no doubt, as to
who each other might be.
They were certainly a cheerless set, and to me they all looked
stony-eyed and heartless. I could not help it, I almost hated them; and
to avoid them, went on deck, but a storm of sleet drove me below. At
last I bethought me, that I had not procured a ticket, and going to the
captain’s office to pay my passage and get one, was horror-struck to
find, that the price of passage had been suddenly raised that day,
owing to the other boats not running; so that I had not enough money to
pay for my fare. I had supposed it would be but a dollar, and only a
dollar did I have, whereas it was two. What was to be done? The boat
was off, and there was no backing out; so I determined to say nothing
to any body, and grimly wait until called upon for my fare.
The long weary day wore on till afternoon; one incessant storm raged on
deck; but after dinner the few passengers, waked up with their
roast-beef and mutton, became a little more sociable. Not with me, for
the scent and savor of poverty was upon me, and they all cast toward me
their evil eyes and cold suspicious glances, as I sat apart, though
among them. I felt that desperation and recklessness of poverty which
only a pauper knows. There was a mighty patch upon one leg of my
trowsers, neatly sewed on, for it had been executed by my mother, but
still very obvious and incontrovertible to the eye. This patch I had
hitherto studiously endeavored to hide with the ample skirts of my
shooting-jacket; but now I stretched out my leg boldly, and thrust the
patch under their noses, and looked at them so, that they soon looked
away, boy though I was. Perhaps the gun that I clenched frightened them
into respect; or there might have been something ugly in my eye; or my
teeth were white, and my jaws were set. For several hours, I sat gazing
at a jovial party seated round a mahogany table, with some crackers and
cheese, and wine and cigars. Their faces were flushed with the good
dinner they had eaten; and mine felt pale and wan with a long fast. If
I had presumed to offer to make one of their party; if I had told them
of my circumstances, and solicited something to refresh me, I very well
knew from the peculiar hollow ring of their laughter, they would have
had the waiters put me out of the cabin, for a beggar, who had no
business to be warming himself at their stove. And for that insult,
though only a conceit, I sat and gazed at them, putting up no petitions
for their prosperity. My whole soul was soured within me, and when at
last the captain’s clerk, a slender young man, dressed in the height of
fashion, with a gold watch chain and broach, came round collecting the
tickets, I buttoned up my coat to the throat, clutched my gun, put on
my leather cap, and pulling it well down, stood up like a sentry before
him. He held out his hand, deeming any remark superfluous, as his
object in pausing before me must be obvious. But I stood motionless and
silent, and in a moment he saw how it was with me. I ought to have
spoken and told him the case, in plain, civil terms, and offered my
- title
- Chunk 2