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- 545
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 493
- text
- 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
dollar, and then waited the event. But I felt too wicked for that. He
did not wait a great while, but spoke first himself; and in a gruff
voice, very unlike his urbane accents when accosting the wine and cigar
party, demanded my ticket. I replied that I had none. He then demanded
the money; and upon my answering that I had not enough, in a loud angry
voice that attracted all eyes, he ordered me out of the cabin into the
storm. The devil in me then mounted up from my soul, and spread over my
frame, till it tingled at my finger ends; and I muttered out my
resolution to stay where I was, in such a manner, that the ticket man
faltered back. “There’s a dollar for you,” I added, offering it.
“I want two,” said he.
“Take that or nothing,” I answered; “it is all I have.”
I thought he would strike me. But, accepting the money, he contented
himself with saying something about sportsmen going on shooting
expeditions, without having money to pay their expenses; and hinted
that such chaps might better lay aside their fowling-pieces, and assume
the buck and saw. He then passed on, and left every eye fastened upon
me.
I stood their gazing some time, but at last could stand it no more. I
pushed my seat right up before the most insolent gazer, a short fat
man, with a plethora of cravat round his neck, and fixing my gaze on
his, gave him more gazes than he sent. This somewhat embarrassed him,
and he looked round for some one to take hold of me; but no one coming,
he pretended to be very busy counting the gilded wooden beams overhead.
I then turned to the next gazer, and clicking my gun-lock, deliberately
presented the piece at him.
Upon this, he overset his seat in his eagerness to get beyond my range,
for I had him point blank, full in the left eye; and several persons
starting to their feet, exclaimed that I must be crazy. So I was at
that time; for otherwise I know not how to account for my demoniac
feelings, of which I was afterward heartily ashamed, as I ought to have
been, indeed; and much more than that.
I then turned on my heel, and shouldering my fowling-piece and bundle,
marched on deck, and walked there through the dreary storm, till I was
wet through, and the boat touched the wharf at New York.
Such is boyhood.
- title
- Chunk 3