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Chapter XXII (A Man Who Hated himself)

The Light Of The Following Day Brought Little Hope Or Courage; But

Haldane Started out, After A Meagre Breakfast, To Find Some Means Of

Obtaining a Dinner And A Place To Sleep. He Was Not As Successful As

Usual, And Noon Had Passed before He Found Anything To Do.

 

 

 

As He Was Plodding Wearily Along Through A Suburb He Heard Some One

Behind A High Board Fence Speaking So Loudly And Angrily That He Stopped

To Listen, And Was Not A Little Surprised to Find That The Man Was

Talking To Himself. For A Few Moments There Was A Sound Of A Saw, And

When It Ceased, A Harsh, Querulous Voice Commenced again:

 

 

 

"A-A-H"--It Would Seem That The Man Thus Given To Soliloquy Often Began

And Finished his Sentences With A Vindictive And Prolonged guttural

Sound Like That Here Indicated--"Miserable Hand At Sawin' Wood! Why

Don'T You Let Some One Saw It That Knows How? Tryin' To Save A Half

Dollar; When You Know It'Ll Give You The Rheumatiz, And Cost Ten In

Doctor Bills! 'Nother Thing; It'S Mean--Mean As Dirt. You Know There'S

Poor Devils Who Need the Work, And You'Re Cheatin' 'Em Out Of It. But

It'S Just Like Yer! A-A-H!" And Then The Saw Began Again.

 

 

 

Haldane Was Inclined to Believe That This Irascible Stranger Was As

Providential As The Croaking Ravens That Fed the Prophet, And He

Promptly Sought The Gate And Entered. An Old Man Looked up In some

Surprise. He Was Short In stature And Had The Stoop Of One Who Is

Bending Under The Weight Of Years And Infirmities. His Features Were As

Withered and Brown As A Russet Apple That Had Been Kept Long Past Its

Season, And His Head Was Surmounted by A Shock Of White Locks That

Bristled out In all Directions, As If Each Particular Hair Was On Bad

Terms With Its Neighbors. Curious Seams And Wrinkles Gave The Continuous

Impression That The Old Gentleman Had Just Swallowed something Very

Bitter, And Was Making a Wry Face Over It. But Haldane Was In no Mood

For The Study Of Physiognomy And Character, However Interesting a

Subject He Might Stumble Upon, And He Said:

 

 

 

"I Am Looking For A Little Work, And With Your Permission I Will Saw

That Wood For Whatever You Are Willing To Pay."

 

 

 

"That Won'T Be Much."

 

 

 

"It Will Be Enough To Get A Hungry Man A Dinner."

 

 

 

"Haven'T You Had Any Dinner?"

 

 

 

"No."

 

 

 

"Why Didn'T You Ask For One, Then?"

 

 

 

"Why Should I Ask You For A Dinner?"

 

 

 

"Why Shouldn'T You? If I Be A Tight-Fisted man, I'M Not Mean Enough To

Refuse A Hungry Man."

 

 

 

"Give Me Some Work, And I Can Buy My Dinner."

 

 

 

"What'S Your Name?"

 

 

 

"Egbert Haldane."

 

 

 

"Ah Ha! That Name'S Been In the Papers Lately."

 

 

 

"Yes, And _I_ Have Been In jail."

 

 

 

"And Do You Expect Me To Have A Man Around That'S Been In jail?"

 

 

 

"No; I Don'T Expect Any Humanity From Any Human Being That Knows

Anything about Me. I Am Treated as If I Were The Devil Himself, And

Hadn'T The Power Or Wish To Do Anything Save Rob And Murder. The Public

Should Keep Such As I Am In prison The Rest Of Our Lives, Or Else Cut

Our Throats. But This Sending Us Out In the World To Starve, And To Be

Kicked and Cuffed during The Process, Is Scarcely In keeping With The

Bible Civilization They Are Always Boasting Of."

 

 

 

He Spoke Recklessly And Bitterly, And His Experience Made His Words

Appear To Him Only Too True. But His Shrivelled and Shrunken Auditor

Grinned appreciatively, And Said, With More Than His Usual Vindictive

Emphasis:

 

 

 

"A-A-H! That'S The Right Kind Of Talk. Now You'Re Gittin' Past All This

Make-Believin' To The Truth. We'Re A Cussed mean Set--We Folk Who Go To

Church And Read The Bible, And Then Do Just What The Devil Tells Us,

A-Helpin Him Along All The Time. Satan'S Got A Strong Grip On You, From

All I Hear, And We'Re All A-Helpin' Him Keep It. You'Ve Gone Half Way To

The Devil, And All The Good People Tell You To Go The Rest Of The Way,

For They Won'T Have Anything To Do With You. Hain'T That The Way?"

 

 

 

"Oh, No," Said Haldane With A Bitter Sneer; "Some Of The Good People To

Whom You Refer Put Themselves Out So Far As To Give Me A Little Advice."

 

 

 

"What Was It Wuth To You? Which Would You Ruther--Some Good Advice From

Me, Or The Job Of Sawin' The Wood There?"

 

 

 

"Give Me The Saw--No Matter About The Advice," Said Haldane, Throwing

Off His Coat.

 

 

 

"A-A-H! Wasn'T I A Fool To Ask That Question? Well, I Don'T Belong To

The Good People, So Go Ahead--I Don'T S'Pose You Know Much About Sawin'

Wood, Bro'T Up As You'Ve Been; But You Can'T Do It Wuss Than Me. I Don'T

Belong To Any One. What I Was Made For I Can'T See, Unless It Is To Be A

Torment To Myself. Nobody Can Stand Me. I Can'T Stand Myself. I'Ve Got A

Cat And Dog That Will Stay With Me, And Sometimes I'Ll Git Up And Kick

'Em Jest For The Chance Of Cussin' Myself For Doin' It."

 

 

 

"And Yet You Are The First Man In town That Has Shown Me Any Practical

Kindness," Said Haldane, Placing another Stick On His Saw-Buck.

 

 

 

"Well, I Kinder Do It Out O' Spite To Myself. There'S Somethin' Inside

Of Me Sayin' All The Time, 'Why Are You Spendin' Time And Money On This

Young Scapegrace? It'Ll End In your Havin' To Give Him A Dinner, For You

Can'T Be So Blasted mean As To Let Him Go Without It, And Yet All The

Time You'Re Wishin' That You Needn'T Do It.'"

 

 

 

"Well, You Need not," Said Haldane.

 

 

 

"Yes, I Must, Too."

 

 

 

"All I Ask Of You Is What You Think That Work Is Worth."

 

 

 

"Well, That Ain'T All I Ask Of My Confounded old Self. Here, You'Re

Hungry You Say--S'Pose You Tell The Truth Sometimes; Here You'Re Down,

And All The Respectable People Sittin' Down Hard On You; Here You Are In

The Devil'S Clutches, And He'S Got You Half Way Toward The Brimstone,

And I'M Grudgin' You A Dinner, Even When I Know I'Ve Got To Give It To

You. That'S What I Call Bein' Mean And A Fool Both. A-A-H!"

 

 

 

Haldane Stopped a Moment To Indulge In the First Laugh He Had Enjoyed

Since His Arrest.

 

 

 

"I Hope You Will Pardon Me, My Venerable Friend," Said He; "But You Have

A Rather Strangely Honest Way Of Talking."

 

 

 

"I'M Old, But I Ain'T Venerable. My Name Is Jeremiah Growther," Was The

Snarling Reply.

 

 

 

"I'M Fraid You Have Too Much Conscience, Mr. Growther. It Won'T Let You

Do Comfortably What Others Do As A Matter Of Course."

 

 

 

"I'Ve Nothin' To Do With Other People. I Know What'S Right, And I'M All

The Time Hatin' To Do It. That'S The Mean Thing about Me Which I Can'T

Stand. A-A-H!"

 

 

 

"I'M Sorry My Coming Has Made You So Out Of Sorts With Yourself."

 

 

 

"If It Ain'T You It'S Somethin' Else. I Ain'T More Out Of Sorts Than

Usual."

 

 

 

"Well, You'Ll Soon Be Rid Of Me--I'Ll Be Through In an Hour."

 

 

 

"Yes, And Here It Is The Middle Of The Afternoon, And You Haven'T Had

Your Dinner Yet, And For All I Know, No Breakfast Nuther. I Was Precious

Careful To Have Both Of Mine, And Find It Very Comfortable Standin' Here

A-Growlin' While You'Re Workin' On An Empty Stomach. But It'S Just Like

Me. A-A-H! I'Ll Call You In a Few Minutes, And I Won'T Pay You A Cent

Unless You Come In;" And The Old Man Started for The Small Dilapidated

Cottage Which He Shared with The Cat And Dog That, As He Stated, Managed

To Worry Along With Him.

 

 

 

But He Had Not Taken Many Steps Before He Stumbled slightly Against A

Loose Stone, And He Stopped for A Moment, As If He Could Find No

Language Equal To The Occasion, And Then Commenced such A Tirade Of

Abuse With His Poor Weazened little Self As Its Object, That One Would

Naturally Feel Like Taking Sides With The Decrepit Body Against The

Vindictive Spirit. Haldane Would Have Knocked a Stranger Down Had He

Said Half As Much To The Old Gentleman, Who Seemed bent On Befriending

Him After His Own Odd Fashion. But The Irate Old Man Finished his

Objurgation With The Words:

 

 

 

"What'S One Doin' Above Ground Who Can'T Lift His Foot Over A Stone Only

An Inch High? A-A-H!" And Then He Went On, And Disappeared in the House,

From The Open Door Of Which Not Long After Came The Savory Odor Of

Coffee.

 

 

 

Partly To Forget His Miserable Self In his Employer'S Strange Manner,

And Partly Because He Was Almost Faint From Hunger, Haldane Concluded to

Accept This First Invitation To Dine Out In hillaton, Resolving That He

Would Do His Queer Host Some Favor To Make Things Even.

 

 

 

"Come In," Shouted mr. Growther A Few Minutes Later.

 

 

 

Haldane Entered quite A Large Room, Which Presented an Odd Aspect Of

Comfort And Disorder.

 

 

 

"There'S A Place To Wash Your Hands, If You Think It'S Wuth While. I

Don'T Often, But I Hope There'S Few Like Me," Said The Busy Host,

Lifting The Frying-Pan From Some Coals, And Emptying From It A Generous

Slice Of Ham And Three Or Four Eggs On A Platter.

 

 

 

"I Like Your Open Fire-Place," Said Haldane, Looking Curiously Around

The Hermitage As He Performed his Ablutions.

 

 

 

"That'S A Nuther Of My Weaknesses. I Know A Stove Would Be More

Convenient And Economical, But I Hate All Improvements."

 

 

 

"One Would Think, From What You Said, Your Cat And Dog Had A Hard Time

Of It; But Two More Sleek, Fat, And Lazy Animals I Never Saw."

 

 

 

"No Thanks To Me. I S'Pose They'Ve Got Clear Consciences."

 

 

 

As The Table Began To Fairly Groan With Good Things, Haldane Said:

 

 

 

"Look Here, Mr. Growther, Are You In the Habit Of Giving Disreputable

People Such A Dinner As That?"

 

 

 

"If It'S Good Enough For Me, It'S Good Enough For You," Was The Tart

Reply.

 

 

 

"O, I'M Not Finding Fault; I Only Wanted you To Know That I Would Be

Grateful For Much Less."

 

 

 

"I'M Not Doin' It To Please You, But To Spite Myself."

 

 

 

"Have Your Own Way, Of Course," Said Haldane, Laughing: "It'S A Little

Odd, Though, That Your Spite Against Yourself Should Mean So Much

Practical Kindness To Me."

 

 

 

"Hold On!" Cried his Host, As Haldane Was About To Attack The Viands;

"Ain'T You Goin' To Say Grace?"

 

 

 

"Well," Said The Young Man, Somewhat Embarrassed, "I Would Rather You

Would Say It For Me."

 

 

 

"I Might As Well Eat Your Dinner For You."

 

 

 

"Mr. Growther, You Are An Unusually Honest Man, And I Think A Kind One;

So I Am Not Going To Act Out Any Lies Before You. Although Your Dinner

Is The Best One I Have Seen For Many A Long Day, Or Am Likely To See,

Yet, To Tell You The Truth, I Could Swear Over It Easier Than I Could

Pray Over It."

 

 

 

"A-A-H! That'S The Right Spirit; That'S The Way I Ought To Feel. Now You

See What A Mean Hypocrite I Am. I'M No Christian--Far From It--And Yet I

Always Have A Sneakin' Wish To Say Grace Over My Victuals. As If It

Would Do Anybody Any Good! If I'D Jest Swear Over 'Em, As You Say, Then

I Would Be Consistent."

 

 

 

"Are You In earnest In all This Strange Talk?"

 

 

 

"Yes, I Am; I Hate Myself."

 

 

 

"Why?"

 

 

 

"Because I Know All About Myself. A-A-H!"

 

 

 

"How Many Poor, Hungry People Have You Fed since The Year Opened?"

 

 

 

"Your Question Shows Me Jest What I Am. I Could Tell You Within Three Or

Four. I Found Myself A-Countin' Of 'Em Up And A-Gloryin' In it All The

Tother Night, Takin' Credit To Myself For Givin' Away A Few Victuals

After I Had Had Plenty Myself. Think Of A Man Gittin' Self-Righteous

Over Givin' To Some Poor Fellow-Critters What He Couldn'T Eat Himself!

If That Ain'T Meanness, What Is It? A-A-H!"

 

 

 

"But You Haven'T Told Me How Many You Have Fed."

 

 

 

"No, And I Ain'T A-Goin' To--Jest To Spite Myself. I Want To Tell You,

And To Take Credit For It, But I'Ll Head Myself Off This Time."

 

 

 

"But You Could Eat These Things Which You Are Serving To Me--If Not

To-Day, Why, Then To-Morrow."

 

 

 

"To-Morrow'S Income Will Provide For To-Morrow. The Lord Shows He'S Down

On This Savin' And Hoardin' Up Of Things, For He Makes 'Em Get Musty

Right Away; And If Anything Spiles On My Hands I'M Mad Enough To Bite

Myself In two."

 

 

 

"But If You Treat All Stragglers As You Do Me, You Do Not Give Away Odds

And Ends And What'S Left Over.

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