Redburn | Page 6

about Europe.
Good-by! good-by!"
So I broke loose from their arms, and not daring to look behind, ran
away as fast as I could, till I got to the corner where my brother was
waiting. He accompanied me part of the way to the place, where the
steamboat was to leave for New York; instilling into me much sage
advice above his age, for he was but eight years my senior, and warning
me again and again to take care of myself; and I solemnly promised I
would; for what cast-away will not promise to take of care himself,
when he sees that unless he himself does, no one else will.
We walked on in silence till I saw that his strength was giving out,--he

was in ill health then,--and with a mute grasp of the hand, and a loud
thump at the heart, we parted.
It was early on a raw, cold, damp morning toward the end of spring,
and the world was before me; stretching away a long muddy road, lined
with comfortable houses, whose inmates were taking their sunrise naps,
heedless of the wayfarer passing. The cold drops of drizzle trickled
down my leather cap, and mingled with a few hot tears on my cheeks.
I had the whole road to myself, for no one was yet stirring, and I
walked on, with a slouching, dogged gait. The gray shooting-jacket was
on my back, and from the end of my brother's rifle hung a small bundle
of my clothes. My fingers worked moodily at the stock and trigger, and
I thought that this indeed was the way to begin life, with a gun in your
hand!
Talk not of the bitterness of middle-age and after life; a boy can feel all
that, and much more, when upon his young soul the mildew has fallen;
and the fruit, which with others is only blasted after ripeness, with him
is nipped in the first blossom and bud. And never again can such
blights be made good; they strike in too deep, and leave 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