The Brother Clerks | Page 6

looked down now, he saw the servants hurrying about with their turbaned heads and ebony faces, busied with preparations for the morning meal; laughing and joking as they passed one another, apparently as happy in these narrow gloomy courts as though they were the possessors of the proud mansions adjoining.
Such was the view from two of the windows of the room. There was another one covered partially by a tattered and dusty painted shade, at the southern extremity of the apartment, but Guly did not approach it, not caring to look down upon what he thought must be a third edition of kitchen scenery.
Opposite the bed was a pile of empty dry goods boxes; and one or two pieces of furniture of the same description were placed about the room, which, with the addition of one store stool, minus a bottom, served for seats.
The bedstead was of common stained wood, furnished with a tester and flimsy mosquito bar, through the grim and smoky folds of which were visible sheets of unbleached factory muslin, an emaciated mattress, and a pair of lean pillows, which seemed quite lost in the much too large cases which covered them. The boy sighed as he took in all the dinginess and gloom, and his heart throbbed yearningly for the pleasant room which, even in adversity, had been his at home, cheered and enlivened so often, too, by the presence of his tender mother.
"It isn't time to get up yet, is it, Gulian?" said Arthur, half-rousing himself, then closing his weary lids again. "The sun isn't up yet, is it?"
"The sun never gets into this room, Arthur; we can only know when it's up by the increased light."
"I was dreaming of home; oh! such a pleasant dream! I must sleep a little longer," murmured Arthur again, in the lingering tones of one but half-awake.
"Not this morning, brother. Come, we must up, and be doing. I hear them opening the store below; we shouldn't be late the first morning, you know, dear Arthur. It is too late to sleep."
Alas! that this first bright dream of home, in that old gloomy room, should ever have been broken! Alas! that the first sweet slumber, on that rude couch, should have had its awaking! Alas! for the beauty of that boyish face, radiant in the flush and glow of early youth, with the halo of home dreams upon it, that it had not there and then chilled and crumbled! Alas! for the innocence and purity of that buoyant spirit, that it had not then taken its flight to brighter realms, forewarned of the dark time coming, when it would quake to find in conscience's depths, that, indeed, "it was too late to sleep."
Upon going down stairs the first person the brothers met was Jeff, who stood at the foot of the staircase, looking up as if expecting them. They returned his cheerful and respectful salutation kindly, and passed on to the front door, where Wilkins stood in his shirt-sleeves; leaning against the door-post, reading the morning paper.
He raised his eyes as they approached, and nodded to them, and, somewhat to Guly's surprise, inquired how they had rested, adding that the room needed some cleaning before it could be made habitable for human beings, and he would see to it.
They thanked him, and, as he resumed his reading, they could do nothing more than stand in the door and look out, or walk briskly up and down the floor for exercise. The clerks began to gather in after a while, all of whom gave the young strangers a passing greeting, as they stationed themselves at their respective places. At length beginning to experience the craving of naturally good appetites, they walked up to Wilkins, and inquired where they were expected to board.
"Good gracious! sure enough!" said he, flinging his paper on the counter, "I came near forgetting you; and would have been off to breakfast without you in a minute more. Come on," and he put on his coat as he went out of the door, and led the way down street. They only walked a couple of blocks, then entered a large room, opening upon the street, with glazed glass doors, which stood open on account of the heat of the morning.
"I always eat here, as it is cheaper than to take a boarding-house, I think; and, besides, you can always have just what you call for. If you take my advice, you'll take your meals here, too," said Wilkins, assuming a very patronizing air, as he rang the little table bell for the waiter.
Arthur thanked him for his kindness, and asked him when they would probably see Mr. Delancey.
"He's only in the store from nine in the morning till three in the afternoon," replied Wilkins. "You will see him