We’ll make it all right with you, sonny!”
The driver passed his hand through the strap-hole, and tapped for his
fare–it was before the gongs came into common use. Col. Jack took the
hand, and shook it cordially. He said:
“You twig me, old pard! All right between gents. Smell of that, and see
how you like it!”
And he put a twenty-dollar gold piece in the driver’s hand. After a
moment the driver said he could not make change.
“Bother the change! Ride it out. Put it in your pocket.”
Then to Col. Jim, with a sounding slap on his thigh:
“Ain’t it style, though? Hanged if I don’t hire this thing every day for
a week.”
The omnibus stopped, and a young lady got in. Col. Jack stared a moment,
then nudged Col. Jim with his elbow:
“Don’t say a word,” he whispered. “Let her ride, if she wants to.
Gracious, there’s room enough.”
The young lady got out her porte-monnaie, and handed her fare to Col.
Jack.
“What’s this for?” said he.
“Give it to the driver, please.”
“Take back your money, madam. We can’t allow it. You’re welcome to ride
here as long as you please, but this shebang’s chartered, and we can’t
let you pay a cent.”
The girl shrunk into a corner, bewildered. An old lady with a basket
climbed in, and proffered her fare.
“Excuse me,” said Col. Jack. “You’re perfectly welcome here, madam, but
we can’t allow you to pay. Set right down there, mum, and don’t you be
the least uneasy. Make yourself just as free as if you was in your own
turn-out.”
Within two minutes, three gentlemen, two fat women, and a couple of
children, entered.
“Come right along, friends,” said Col. Jack; “don’t mind us. This is a
free blow-out.” Then he whispered to Col. Jim,
“New York ain’t no sociable place, I don’t reckon–it ain’t no name for
it!”
He resisted every effort to pass fares to the driver, and made everybody
cordially welcome. The situation dawned on the people, and they pocketed
their money, and delivered themselves up to covert enjoyment of the
episode. Half a dozen more passengers entered.
“Oh, there’s plenty of room,” said Col. Jack. “Walk right in, and make
yourselves at home. A blow-out ain’t worth anything as a blow-out,
unless a body has company.” Then in a whisper to Col. Jim: “But ain’t
these New Yorkers friendly? And ain’t they cool about it, too? Icebergs
ain’t anywhere. I reckon they’d tackle a hearse, if it was going their
way.”
More passengers got in; more yet, and still more. Both seats were
filled, and a file of men were standing up, holding on to the cleats
overhead. Parties with baskets and bundles were climbing up on the roof.
Half-suppressed laughter rippled up from all sides.
“Well, for clean, cool, out-and-out cheek, if this don’t bang anything
that ever I saw, I’m an Injun!” whispered Col. Jack.
A Chinaman crowded his way in.
“I weaken!” said Col. Jack. “Hold on, driver! Keep your seats, ladies,
and gents. Just make yourselves free–everything’s paid for. Driver,
rustle these folks around as long as they’re a mind to go–friends of
ours, you know. Take them everywheres–and if you want more money, come
to the St. Nicholas, and we’ll make it all right. Pleasant journey to
you, ladies and gents–go it just as long as you please–it shan’t cost
you a cent!”
The two comrades got out, and Col. Jack said:
“Jimmy, it’s the sociablest place I ever saw. The Chinaman waltzed in as
comfortable as anybody. If we’d staid awhile, I reckon we’d had some
niggers. B’ George, we’ll have to barricade our doors to-night, or some
of these ducks will be trying to sleep with us.”
CHAPTER XLVII.
Somebody has said that in order to know a community, one must observe the
style of its funerals and know what manner of men they bury with most
ceremony. I cannot say which class we buried with most eclat in our
“flush times,” the distinguished public benefactor or the distinguished
rough–possibly the two chief grades or grand divisions of society
honored their illustrious dead about equally; and hence, no doubt the