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Fern Fanny
Folly as It Flies; Hit at by Fanny Fern

A TRIP TO THE NORTHERN LAKES

I TRUST that it involves no disloyalty to Queen Victoria to dislike Toronto; it is the last of her Majesty's dominions that I should select for a residence. Its tumble-down, dilapidated aspect, its almost total absence of adornment in architecture, or ornamentation in shrubbery, was, I confess, very repelling to me. One excepts, of course, what is called the "College Walk," leading to the fine new University buildings and grounds, consisting of an entire mile of handsome shade trees, but alas! a line-and-plummet, undeviating, straight mile, innocent of the faintest suspicion of a curve. Still, on the pleasant afternoon we walked there, we enjoyed it, as well as the sight of the crowd, dressed in holiday attire, sauntering past us. I saw no beauty in their faces, but a look of jolly health, which, to my eye, was quite as pleasing. The young girls, perhaps, looked a trifle too theatrical, in the little straw crowns of hats without brim, a large ostrich feather being curled over the forehead, instead. This head-dress, worn with quite ordinary dresses, seemed to me incongruous, and not in good taste; but one forgives much to a sunny, bright face, and this would be a very monotonous world, were all individuality destroyed. It struck me that there was an immense number of sixteen-year-old young girls in Toronto; perhaps their mothers and aunts don't go out, or they may be youthful mothers and aunts – who knows? It struck me, too, that the Torontonians enjoyed themselves; every face wearing a smiling, care-free expression, rare to meet in larger places; so, if they like their pigs to run loose in the street, who shall say them nay, provided they don't trip up the Prince of Wales?

It was funny to see the "beadle" standing in the cathedral porch on Sunday morning, with his scarlet cloth collar and pompous air. If he had the usual cocked hat belonging to his office, I didn't see it, but he found us a good seat, and I trust we prayed for "the Queen and Prince" after the minister, with as much zeal as any of her subjects. The church service was indeed the best part of the performance, the sermon being very harmless and rigidly respectable. Perhaps that was the reason my thoughts wandered to a lad of twelve or thirteen near by, who was starched up in a white cravat, and dressed like his grandfather. There were some stylish equipages round the church door as we came out, and many that were not stylish, but seemed comfortable enough for all that. If I thought Toronto rather a "slow" place, the fault may be in my quicksilver temperament, which sent me off by railroad through the backwoods to Detroit, after one day's sojourn in it. Ah! that I liked! Those grand old woods, those primeval trees, towering and stately as "cedars of Lebanon;" those log-huts with the bronzed mother standing in the door-way, and a group of rosy little children about her; the woodman near by, resting on his axe at the sound of the shrieking whistle, all unconscious how pretty a picture he and his were making. And so on, for miles and miles, through that bright day, we never wearied of gazing till the sun went down. When it rose again it found us in Detroit, and quite as comfortably settled as we could have been in the best hotel in New York. Breakfast, and then a carriage to see the place. Detroit will do. There are flowers in Detroit; there are pretty gardens and vine-festooned windows; they make good coffee in Detroit, and grow peaches, or at any rate sell them – which answered my purpose just as well. Some of the streets and buildings are very pretty. There are funny little market carts, similar to those one sees in Quebec, driven about by women who sell apples, beans and potatoes. There are plenty of stores there, and civil salesmen. One need not cut his throat in Detroit, said I, as we took a farewell glance from the deck of the propeller, on which we were to glide up Lake St. Clair. It seems so strange that people will go, year after year, through the tiresome monotony of watering-place life; the same unvarying, uninteresting round of dressing and dancing, when a tour of a week or more on our Northern Lakes would be so soul-satisfying and healthful. It must be that many of them only need reminding of its superior advantages, and the ease and comfort with which so many hundred miles may be traversed, to undertake it. But to enjoy it, it must be done on the right principle. If a woman, you are not to dress up, and, striking an attitude in the ladies' saloon, take out that everlasting crochet-work, with which so many women martyrize themselves and their friends, to pass the time. You are to array yourself in a rough-and-tumble-dress, with the plainest belongings; then you are prepared to scramble up on the upper deck, to promenade there and look about; or go into the wheel-house and ask questions of the jolly, gallant captain; or go "down below" and see emigrant life, among the steerage passengers; or, when the boat stops to take in coal or freight, to jump out on the landing, and make your way, through boxes and barrels, up into the town during the brief half-hour stay of the boat. You are to do anything of this kind that a modest, dignified, independent woman may always do, without regard to Mrs. Grundy, or her numerous descendants on sea and shore. That's the way to make the Northern Lake trip.

Eleven days without a newspaper! and yet we ate, and drank, and slept, and grew fat, as our boat carried us farther and farther from all knowledge of the "horrid disclosures," and "startling developments" of fast Gotham. We were blissfully ignorant how many men choked, poisoned, and were otherwise attentive to their wives, during those bright days when we sat on deck, basking in the sun, with our fascinated gaze fixed upon the bright foam-track, or upon the sea-gulls, that, with untiring wing, followed us hundreds of miles, now and then laving their snowy breasts in the blue waves; or, as we gladly welcomed the smaller, friendly birds, that flew into the cabin windows, and fluttered about the ceiling, as if glad to see new faces in their trackless homes. We were ignorant – and contented to be – during this tranquil period, of "mass-meetings," and "barbecues," and "pugilistic encounters," and scrambles for office, the baptismal name of which is "patriotism." Meanwhile the fresh wind blew on our bronzed faces, and we glided past lovely green islands, on which Autumn had hung out, here and there, her signal flag, warning us – spite of the pleasant breeze – not to linger too long where the fierce winds would soon come to lash the waves to more than old Ocean's fury. Who could dream it, "with the blue above and the blue below," and we so gently rocked and cradled? Who could believe it – that heavenly evening, when we watched the sun sink beneath the waves on one side of us, as the moon rose majestically out of them on the other, while before us the beautiful island of "The Great Spirit," was set like an emerald in the sapphire sea? Now and then an Indian in his fragile canoe, with a blanket for a sail, gave us rough welcome in passing. How could we realize on that balmy evening, that for eight months in the year, he saw those green pines covered with snow, or that he guided huge dogs to carry the mail, through paths accessible only to Indian feet, or that spring and autumn were there almost unknown, so rapidly did winter and summer, with their intense heat and cold, succeed each other. Entranced and spell-bound we asked, Can it ever be dreary here? Hark! to that sound of music, as another boat, homeward bound, plashes past us, with its living freight. One moment and away! Heaven send them safety! And now picturesque little huts are dotted in and out among the trees, along the line of shore, and the solemn mysteries of life and death go on there too. And now, as if every illuminated page in Nature's book were to be turned for us, flashes up the Aurora! in long, quivering lines of light, – rose-color and silver – till earth, sea and sky are ablaze with glory! Oh, let us go home and gather together all who love us, (this boat would more than hold them,) and let us always live on these waters, said I; such nice, quiet sleep in the cosy little state-rooms where one cannot lose anything, because there is no room to lose it; and then the pleasant surprise of the new landing-places with their Frenchy-Indian names, and the strange but friendly faces on the pier; the mines too, to explore in this rich country, often held by residents in the old world; oh, you may be sure, even without Broadway, there would be no lack of excitement on these Lakes, no more than there would be lack of culture, refinement and intelligence among their residents; for it must needs be men of mark who are the pioneers in these wildernesses; men who will stand strong as do its rocks, when the waves of discouragement dash against them, waiting the lull of winds and storms, for the fore-ordained sunshine of prosperity. There are women, too, here; not flounced and be-gemmed and useless, but bright-eyed and fair-browed, for all that, and loving appreciatively the wild, grand beauty of these lakes and woods, even when laggard Winter holds them ice-bound. Nor need the traveller be surprised, on stepping ashore, to find here a large, well-appointed hotel, with a bill of fare no epicure need despise, especially when the far-famed fish of these regions is set before him.

The Indian, when asked to work, points significantly, and with characteristic nonchalance, to the lake for his answer! Spite of the poets, I found no beauty among these people, save in the bright eyes of one little child, who was playing outside the door of a wigwam, on the shore of that lovely Sault River, so rich in its clustering islands, so beautiful with its foaming rapids; miniaturing those of Niagara. The Indians dart over and about these rapids in their egg-shell boats with startling fearlessness. I am sorry to inform you, by the way, that the "nymph-like Indian maid" wears a hoop! In this vicinity – for one instant – I wished that I were a squaw; particularly as she was a chief's widow, and was being rowed in a pretty canoe by fourteen Indians, whose voices "kept tune as their oars kept time." A nearer inspection of her opulent ladyship might have disinclined me to the exchange, but at that distance, as her picturesque little canoe safely coquetted with the foaming, sparkling rapids, her position seemed enchanting.

Homeward bound! and now we must leave all these beautiful scenes, and say Farewell to the kind faces which greeted us so many happy "good mornings" and "good nights." There are mementoes now before me: mignonnette from the bright-eyed girl of "Marquette;" specimens of "ore" from "the Doctor," of sterling value as himself; and recollections of at least one member of the press, glad, like ourselves, to escape from pen and ink. Ah! who has not hated to say Farewell?

"We must come again next summer," said we all – so said the Captain.

Ah! the poor Captain. My eyes fill – my heart aches, as if I had known him years, instead of those few bright, fairy days. Poor Captain Jack Wilson, with his handsome, sunshiny face, cheery voice, and manly ways! How little I thought there would be no "next summer" for him, when he so kindly helped me up on the hurricane deck, and into the cosy little pilot-house, to look about; who was always sending me word to come "forward," or "aft," because he knew I so much enjoyed seeing all beautiful things; who was all goodness, all kindness, and yet, in a few hours after we left him, found a grave in that cruel surf!

The afternoon of the day we had said our last "Good-bye" to him, on the Chicago pier; we had taken a carriage to drive round the city, and reined up at the "draw," for a boat to pass through. It was the "Lady Elgin," going forth to meet her doom! We kissed our hands gaily to her in the bright sunshine "for auld lang syne," and that night, as we slept safely in our beds at the hotel, that brave heart, with a wailing babe prest to it, had only that treacherous raft between him and eternity. The poor captain! How can we give him up? As his strong arm sustained the helpless on that fearful night, may God support his own gentle ones, or whom our hearts ache, in this their direst need.

I never fancied going up and down stairs, nor did I like to see only the ankles of the Chicago people on a level with the carriage windows, while riding through their streets. How any mortal gets about those breakneck localities in the evening, with the present insufficient means of illumination, (I except of course, the lighting of the principal thoroughfare,) I am at a loss to conjecture. I advise all young doctors to emigrate to Chicago; stumbling strangers at least must yield them a rich harvest. Having lightened my conscience on this point, I wish to add that I was delighted with Chicago; delighted with the fine architectural taste displayed in the new buildings already finished and in process of building. I very much admired one of the churches in Michigan Avenue, composed of variegated stone. Some of the private residences may safely challenge competition with any in New York, on the score of magnificence. The principal stores are narrow, but of an immense length, and full of choice goods; they only differ from ours of the same class, in the fact that a little of everything may be purchased in each one; instead of the usual "dry goods" limitation. Religion and tobacco seem to be the staple products of Chicago; the shops for the sale of the latter, having a wonderful prominence and attractiveness, and as to churches, their name is legion. The handsome mammoth hotel now being built, we only hoped might be monopolized by the landlord who made our stay so comfortable.

Notwithstanding a persistent rain, our ride through alternate woods and prairies, from Chicago to Cleveland was quite delightful. The luxuriance of vegetation was a constant source of pleasure to me. There were giant trees, festooned with wild vines, and beautiful spikes of purple and yellow flowers, tantalizing my itching fingers as we shot past; the cars always stopping, of course, where nothing but "Groceries" was to be seen, except in one instance, where "Groceries and Boarding" made a pleasing variety. Quantities of prairie-hens fluttered out of the long grass, as we passed, safe enough from any gunpowder tendencies of mine, while wonderfully prolific families of spotted pigs "took their time" to pay attention to our shrieking whistle. Abundance, indeed, seemed to be written on everything, even to the jetty coronal of hair on the head of a young, barefooted girl of eighteen, who, alas! was smoking a long-nine in the doorway of her log-hut. I dare say, though, that the poor thing did it in self-defence, as I am convinced all women in this country will be obliged to – sooner or later, – as men grow more and more selfish in regard to the tobacco-nuisance, the churches at present being the only place where one is sure of escaping it, and I am expecting every Sabbath to see the "curling incense" rise there.

Political meetings had been held that day, all along our route, and a great multitude of the unwashed, uncombed, and, for all I could see, unshirted men, entered the cars at the various stopping-places, shaking the rain from their manes like so many shaggy Newfoundlands; "fust-rate fellows" – fearful at spitting and the quill-toothpick exercise! – evidently unused to the curly specimen of female, judging by the looks of blank astonishment with which they regarded – open-mouthed – your humble servant. Of course, we did not see a "rolling prairie" on this route; however, as we had just done a little extra "rolling" on Lake Superior, perhaps it was as well deferred till another summer.

There is no person who has such rigid "go-to-meetin" ideas of propriety, according to her own formula of expounding it, as your countrywoman who seldom ventures beyond the smoke of her own chimney; I had the misfortune to shock one irretrievably by transferring from one of our scrambling way-station dinners an ear of corn, upon which to regale at my leisure in the cars. If eyes turned inside out, in holy horror could have moved me, then would that ear of corn never been eaten; but alas! I was both hungry and independent, and Mrs. Grundy could only turn her back and weep over one more unfortunate, lost to all sense of decorum. A little salt however, with one's corn, is not amiss; so I lived to chronicle it.

It would, and did, keep on raining till we reached Cleveland, at ten on Saturday evening. On the following Monday, unfortunately for belated travellers, was to take place the inauguration of the Perry monument, to which all the country for miles round were flocking, not to mention any number of military companies and strangers from a distance, bound on the same patriotic errand. Every hotel, and even private residences, were crammed to the last possible extent; this, of course, we did not know till our trunks were dumped on the wet sidewalk, and the hackman had made his grinning exit. Ladies, wet, hungry ladies, sat eying each other like vampires, (bless 'em!) in the hotel parlors, while despairing cavaliers, brothers, lovers and husbands, mopped their damp brows in the halls, after vain appeals to demented landlords, who had turned billiard tables into couches, and shutters into cots. These agonized fair ones, at each fresh disappointment, could only ejaculate, faintly, "Good gracious, what's to be done?" as they flattened their noses against the window-panes, and took one more look into the muddy streets; and another train yet to arrive at that late hour, with four hundred more moist, hungry wretches! Thanks, then, to the landlord, who immediately turned, for us, his own private parlor into a bed-room, and surrounded us with every possible comfort.

The sun shone out brilliantly on Monday upon the beautiful city of Cleveland, swarming with red coats, and rustics, and civilians, to see the statue, of which they may well be proud, both on account of its intrinsic merit, and because it is the work of a native artist. It stands conspicuously in "Olive Park," its fine proportions in beautiful relief against the dense foliage. We saw Cleveland in holiday attire, it is true, but apart from that it impressed me most agreeably, with its gigantic shade trees and pretty streets and gardens. It is said that women surrender their hearts easily to a military uniform. If so, it is because it stands to them as an indorsement of the wearer's bravery and chivalry, qualities in men which all women adore. I must confess, at any rate, to the pleasure of looking on a large, well-filled hall of red-coats, at dinner, in our hotel, the evening before we left. The "wait – a – a – h – s," to be sure, seemed of the flying-artillery order, but even they seemed to take a glorified pleasure in wearing out shoe-leather in such service! Truth to tell, the inevitable suit of solemn black worn by the universal American masculine in this country, is getting monotonous. I noticed, speaking of this, that every countryman who came to the show had caught the infection, and had apparelled himself in the same sacerdotal manner, although a suit of that color is not only uglier and more expensive than any other, but looks infinitely worse when dusty or worn. Who shall arise to deliver our American male population from this funereal frenzy.

If our entrance to Cleveland just before the Perry celebration was fraught with peril, our exit, on the day after, was a little more so. The wise ones foreseeing the rush, anticipated it; the unwise, among whom we were of course numbered, slept on it, and started on the following morning, just as if nothing had happened. As a natural consequence, when we reached the depot with our baggage there was scarcely even standing-room, either in the long train of cars just leaving, or in those preparing to do so. Now it is bad enough to get up and put on your clothes inside out by gas-light. It is still worse to eat, not because you have an appetite, but for fear you shall have, but after being "put through" this experience, and taking a last shivering farewell of the warm bed, where you should have "cuddled" for hours, to crawl into a dark car, in a dismal depot, and tumble over women who are already seated on portmanteaus on the car floor, and find barely a place to stand, why it —is trying? Not the whispered consolation – "wait till the light shines into the car, and you'll have a seat fast enough," (from a male friend, well versed in railroad travel, from a masculine point of view) consoled me for the weary five minutes I poised on one foot, at that early hour, with not a hook to hang my basket or my hopes on. Good fortune came at the end of that time, through annexation, in the shape of two more cars, into one of which I was hurried, with a haste more necessary than decorous. Ominous muttering of "half an hour behind time," met my ear, from male mal-contents. Happy in the possession of a seat at last, and thoroughly disgusted with such "hot haste" at daylight, I faintly remarked that I should be content, did they not pull my seat from under me, to sit there till doomsday. It is not the first time I've made a rash remark: nettle-rash this turned out! But how was I – a woman – to know that "half an hour behind time," meant "no right to the road?" that it meant subservience to freight trains and every other train, from seven o'clock that morning, to seven that blessed evening? – that it meant, we were to sit weary hours and half-hours at a time, in some Sahara of a country road, sucking our thumbs because there was nothing else to suck; the previous overcrowded train having, like locusts, devoured not "every green thing," alas! but every other munchable edible? How did I know that, to crown the horror, the rain would pour down in torrents at just those compulsory stopping times, thus cutting us off even from the poor consolation of stretching our limbs? How did I know, when I madly rejected transporting food from the hotel, that a branch of "rum-cherries" from the hill-side, would be my only bill of fare on that road? Ah, the babies on that train had the best of it, on the dinner question! I borrowed one, and played with it awhile, not with any cannibal ideas, though it was wonderfully plump. A strange gentleman who had strayed off into the woods while we were waiting, came in and graciously offered me "a posy for my baby;" I glanced at the mother; her eye was on me! so I replied as I took the posy, "It is not my baby, it is borrowed, sir;" which was a pity, for it really was a miraculous bit of baby-flesh!

Meantime, as there was no food for the body, and no prospect of any, till evening, I tried to improve my mind by listening to the conversation of two old farmers near, by which I learned how to choose "a caow;" and how, even with the greatest caution, the buyer may be awfully taken in on the milk question; also I learned "how to treat medder land," and "how to keep them skippers from getting into cheese;" after which, I heard the speaker's touching experience, in escaping, after many year's captivity, from the thraldom of king Tobacco– which came about in this wise: that "when his woman did him up a clean shirt, the bosom would allers be spiled after the first mouthful;" also "that his neighbors' wimmen-folks, didn't like to have their carpets spotted up, and were not overglad to see him come into their houses, on that account; and so it came that he got disgusted with himself, and giv it up altogether"; and "it was his opinion that it was all nonsense for any feller to say he couldn't break off, when the fact was that he wouldn't."

If I didn't pat the old farmer on the back, for the common sense of that remark, it was not because I didn't fully indorse it; nor did I fail to sympathize with his chagrin afterwards, when he remarked with a sigh, as he looked out of the car window, "it is such a pity my farm aint down this way. I might make my independent fortin now, selling small notions; for instance, look at them flowers in that gardin– it is astonishing how much money can be made now-a-days, just selling bokys." Our farmer was very human, too, for, just then, as we stopped for a minute, a young girl rushed up to the car-window to say a hurried "how d'ye do," to an old man. "That's a very nice gal, only to get a shake of the paw" said he, compassionately. Well, we worried through that long day as best we might, the poor children in the company half beside themselves with fatigue and hunger; and the men talking loudly about "swindling railroad companies," and threatening "to make a noise about it," when they reached their native Frog-town. After stopping about dark at a miserable place to get a miserable supper, we proceeded on the few remaining miles to Pittsburg. The glowing red lights of the great smelting furnaces, across the river, as we approached the city, looked very cheerful, through the fog, and gave promise of the warm reception of which we stood so greatly in need. Our troubles were over, as soon as we landed at the principal hotel, where solid, substantial comfort as well as luxury awaited us; in the shape of immense beds, with pillows whose sides did not cling together for want of feathers, as is too often the case in very pretentious hotels; in plenty of towels, in plenty of bed-clothes, and in a lookout from the window on the "levee" and across the river, upon the heights of Mount Washington, which we sleepily remarked we should be sure to explore the next morning. Fortified by a splendid night's rest, and a luxurious breakfast we did do it, spite of fog and threatening clouds. Up – up – up – till it seemed as if, like aerial voyagers, we were leaving the world behind us. But what a sight when we reached the summit! How like little birds' nests looked the houses dangerously nested beneath those rocky, perpendicular cliffs! Nor was "the solitary horseman" wanting, "winding round the brow of the hill," for there were houses and farms, and overhanging fruit-trees, and above all, a placard on a fence, with the announcement that the hours for this school for the young were from nine till twelve in the morning, and from two till four in the afternoon. Thank heaven! said I, that there is one place where health is considered of some importance in education. Seeing a coal mine near, my companion proposed we should penetrate a little way into its dark depths. A lad with a donkey-cart had just preceded us, with a small lamp fastened to his cap in front. He looked doubtfully at my feet, and mentioned the bugbear word "dirt." I replied by gathering my skirts in my hand, and following the donkey cart. Smutty enough we found the reeking pit, as we inhaled the stifling, close atmosphere. Its black sides seemed closing round me like a tomb, and when the last ray of daylight from the entrance had quite disappeared, and only the rumbling of the cart-wheels could be heard, like the roar of some wild beast, and only the glimmer of the miner's lamp could be seen, like the glare of its wild eyeball, all the woman came over me, and I begged humbly "to be taken out!" With what satisfaction I emerged into the daylight, and greeted the bright sun which just then shone out, and plucked from the overhanging mouth of the dark pit, which compassionate nature had draped fantastically with a wild vine, a pretty blossom, which looked so strangely beautiful there, some of my readers can imagine. With what zest I tried my limbs, scaled precipices, and jumped from cliff to cliff, to make sure of, and assert my vitality, both present and to come, in this breathing, living, sunshiny, above-ground world of flowers and fruits and blue sky, my astonished fellow traveller, who for the moment doubted my sanity, will bear witness.

And now, as to Pittsburgh itself, apart from its romantic bluffs and their surroundings, and out of its principal hotel, which is decidedly one of the best I ever entered, it is the dismalest, sootiest, forlornest of cities that I ever stumbled into. Let me do justice to the enormous peaches and very fine fruits found in its market-place. Let me do justice to the independence of a female we saw wending her way there, on horseback, with a basket on each side of the saddle, beside another on her arm, not to mention a big cotton umbrella and a horsewhip. We were to rise again, wretched fate! in the middle of that night, to proceed to Philadelphia, on our way home. On reaching my room, and glancing into my looking-glass, I perceived the necessity for the unusual outlay of towels in our bed-room; for what with the visit to the coal-pit, and general atmospheric sootiness of Pittsburgh, my most intimate friends would scarcely have recognized me through the black mask of my complexion. Let me, however, do Pittsburgh this justice: it is a most picturesque and interesting town, and well worth the intelligent, or even the curious, traveller's visit.

Oh, the unutterable dreariness of an hotel parlor at two o'clock in the morning, as you sleepily tumble down stairs at the call of the inexorable "waitah" to take the midnight train of cars. How your footsteps echo through the long, wide, empty halls, you thought so pleasant the evening previous, with their bright lights and flitting forms – tenanted now only by spectral rows of boots and shoes before the doors of still happy sleepers, or by the outline form of the swaggering Hercules who bears your trunk. Shiveringly you draw your blanket-shawl about your shoulders, and sink down on the drawing-room sofa, deferring till the last possible moment your egress into the foggy, out-door air. Julius Cæsar Agrippa enters the drawing room, and placing upon the cold silver salver a cold silver pitcher of ice-water, politely offers you a glass. Good heavens! your hair stands on end at the thought of it. "If it were hot coffee, now!" you faintly mutter at him, from beneath the folds of your woollen shawl. His repentant "Yes, ma'am, wish I had it for you," rouses you from the contemplation of your own pitiable situation, to ask the poor wretch (confidentially) if he has to stand there on one leg every midnight, in that way, contemplating cross travellers like yourself. Whereupon he tells you, with a furtive glance over his shoulder, that "it is every third night;" and just then you notice that a gentleman in the hall, with a valise attached, has just slipped something into Julius Cæsar's hand; and pretty soon you see another gentleman go and do likewise, and so, gradually, it gets through your curls that it mayn't be so bad after all, for this perquisited Julius Cæsar "to sit up every third night: " and humiliated at having been caught the forty-hundredth time throwing away your sympathy, you sheepishly obey the summons to "come," and forthwith pitch into the "Black Maria" that is waiting at the door to jolt your shivering bones to the depot. Everybody in it looks sullen, and everybody's shoulders seem to be buttoned on to their ears. Not even a grunt can be extorted from a mother's son of them, by the roughest pavement. Silent, stoical endurance is written on every Spartan! And so you are all emptied at last, pell-mell into the cars, after kicking at offered peanuts and cold, slimy oranges, and one by one, ties himself (you notice I use the masculine gender) into double knots on his respective seat.