American Adventures | Page 4

it was merely because I had forgotten to--and
that I remedied immediately; while as to the statement that friends were
to see me off, that was absolutely and literally accurate. Friends had,
indeed, signified their purpose to meet me at the station for last
farewells, and had, furthermore, remarked upon the very slight show of
enthusiasm with which I heard the news.
The fact is, I do not like to be seen off. Least of all, do I like to be seen
off by those who are dear to me. If the thing must be done, I prefer it to
be done by strangers--committees from chambers of commerce and the
like, who have no interest in me save the hope that I will live to write
agreeably of their city--of the civic center, the fertilizer works, and the
charming new abattoir. Seeing me off for the most practical of reasons,
such gentlemen are invariably efficient. They provide an equipage, and
there have even been times when, in the final hurried moments, they
have helped me to jam the last things into my trunks and bags. One of
them politely takes my suitcase, another kindly checks my baggage,
and all in order that a third, who is usually the secretary of the chamber
of commerce, may regale me with inspiring statistics concerning the
population of "our city," the seating capacity of the auditorium, the
number of banks, the amount of their clearings, and the quantity of belt
buckles annually manufactured. When the train is ready we exchange
polite expressions of regret at parting: expressions reminiscent of those
little speeches which the King of England and the Emperor of Germany
used to make at parting in the old days before they found each other out
and began dropping high explosives on each other's roofs.
Such a committee, feeling no emotion (except perhaps relief) at seeing

me depart, may be useful. Not so with friends and loved ones. Useful as
they may be in the great crises of life, they are but disturbing elements
in the small ones. Those who would die for us seldom check our trunks.
By this I do not mean to imply that either of the two delightful
creatures who came to the Pennsylvania Terminal to bid me good-by
would die for me. That one has lived for me and that both attempt to
regulate my conduct is more than enough. Hardly had I alighted from
my taxicab, hardly had the redcap seized my suitcase, when, with sweet
smiles and a twinkling of daintily shod feet, they came. Fancy their
having arrived ahead of me! Fancy their having come like a pair of
angels through the rain to see me off! Enough to turn a man's head! It
did turn mine; and I noticed that, as they approached, the heads of other
men were turning too.
Flattered to befuddlement, I greeted them and started with them
automatically in the direction of the concourse, forgetting entirely the
driver of my taxicab, who, however, took in the situation and set up a
great shout--whereat I returned hastily and overpaid him.
This accomplished, I rejoined my companions and, with a radiant
dark-haired girl at one elbow and a blonde, equally delectable, at the
other, moved across the concourse.
How gay they were as we strolled along! How amusing were their
prophecies of adventures destined to befall me in the South. Small
wonder that I took no thought of whither I was going.
Presently, having reached the wall at the other side of the great vaulted
chamber, we stopped.
"Which train, boss?" asked the porter who had meekly followed.
Train? I had forgotten about trains. The mention of the subject
distracted my attention for the moment from the Loreleien, stirred my
drugged sense of duty, and reminded me that I had trunks to check.
My suggestion that I leave them briefly for this purpose was lightly

brushed aside.
"Oh, no!" they cried. "We shall go with you."
I gave in at once--one always does with them--and inquired of the
porter the location of the baggage room. He looked somewhat fatigued
as he replied:
"It's away back there where we come from, boss."
It was a long walk; in a garden, with no train to catch, it would have
been delightful.
"Got your tickets?" suggested the porter as we passed the row of grilled
windows. He had evidently concluded that I was irresponsible.
As I had them, we continued on our way, and presently achieved the
baggage room, where they stood talking and laughing, telling me of the
morning's shopping expedition--hat-hunting, they called it--in the rain.
I fancy that we might have been there yet had not a baggageman,
perhaps divining that I had become a little bit distrait and that I had
business to transact,