Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 1.djvu/664

656 tion. One half-hour on the deck of the boat to New York, with the free ocean-breeze blowing over me, made me a strong man again,—I mean, strong as usual. It was inexpressible delight, that ocean-breeze. It makes me draw a long breath to think of it, and its almost miraculous power of invigoration. But I will not rhapsodize to one who thinks no more of a sea-breeze every afternoon than of dessert after dinner.

With my strength, my sense of amusement at what went on about me revived in full force. I was so absorbed, that I could not take in the meaning of anything Kate said to me, unless I fixed my eyes, by a great effort, upon her face. So she let me stare about me undisturbed, and smiled like some indulgent mother, amused at my boyishness. I had no idea that so few months spent in seclusion would make the bustling world so novel to me.

Observe, Mary, that I did not become purely egotistical, until I began to mingle again with "the crowd, the hum, the shock of men." Henceforth I shall not be able to promise you any other topic than my own experiences. My individuality is thrust upon my notice momently by my isolation in this crowd. In solitude I did not dream what a contrast I had become to my kind. Those strong, quick, shrewd business-men on the boat set it before me glaringly.

Soon after I was established upon the forward deck, my attention was attracted by two boys lying close under the bulwarks. I was struck by their foreign dress, their coarse voices, and their stupid faces. Two creatures, I thought, near akin to the beasts of the field. They cowered in their sheltered corner, and soon fell asleep. One of the busy boathands found them in his way, and gave them a shove or two, but failed to arouse them. He looked hard at them, pitied their fatigue, and left them undisturbed. Presently an old Irish woman, a cake-and-apple-vendor, I suppose, sat down near them upon a coil of rope, and took from her basket a fine large cherry-pie, which appeared to be the last of her stock, and reserved as a tit-bit for her dinner. She turned it round, and eyed it fondly, before she cut it carefully into many equal parts. Then, with huge satisfaction, she began to devour it, making a smacking of the lips and working of the whole apparatus of eating, which proved that she intensely appreciated the uses of mastication, or else found a wonderful joy in it. "How much above an intelligent pig is she?" I asked myself.

While I was pondering this question, I saw that the boy nearest her stirred in his sleep, struggled uneasily with his torpor, and at last lifted his head blindly with his eyes yet shut. He sniffed in the air, like a hungry dog. Yes! The odor of food had certainly reached him,—that sniff confirmed it,—and his eyes starting open, he sat up, and looked with grave steadiness at the pie. It was just the face of a dog that sees a fine piece of beef upon his master's table. He knows it is not for him,—he has no hope of it,—he does not go about to get it, nor think of the possibility of having it,—yet he wants it!

It was a look of unmitigated desire. The woman had disposed of half of her dainty fare, taking up each triangular piece by the crust, and biting off the point, dripping with cherry-juice, first, when her wandering gaze alighted upon the boy. She had another piece just poised, but she slowly lowered it to the plate, and stared at the hungry face. I expected her to snarl like a cat, snatch her food and go away. But she didn't. She counted the pieces,—there were five. She eyed them, and shook her head. She again raised the tempting morsel,—for the woman was unmistakably hungry. But the boy's steady look drew the pie from her lips, and she suddenly held out the plate to him, saying, "There, honey, take that. May-be ne'er a morsel's passed yer lips the day." The boy seized the unexpected boon greedily, but did not forget to give a duck of his head, by way of acknowledgment. The woman leaned her elbows on her knees, and watched him while he was devouring it.