adventures and letters-第18节

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These　Germans　run　everything　as　though　you　were　the　owner　of　the　line。　　The　discipline　is　like　that　of　the　German　Army　or　of　a　man…of…war；　everything　moves　by　the　stroke　of　a　bell；　and　they　have　had　dances　and　speeches　and　concerts　and　religious　services　and　lectures　every　other　minute。　　Into　all　of　these　I　have　gone　with　much　enthusiasm。　　We　have　at　the　captain's　table　Dr。　Field；　the　editor　of　The　Evangelist；　John　Russell；　a　Boston　Democrat；　who　was　in　Congress　and　who　has　been　in　public　life　for　over　forty　years。　　A　Tammany　sachem；　who　looks　like　and　worships　Tweed；　and　who　says　what　I　never　heard　an　American　off　the　stage　say：　　〃That's　me。　　That's　what　I　do；〃　he　says。　　〃When　I　have　insomnia；　I　don't　believe　in　your　sleeping　draughts。　　I　get　up　and　go　round　to　Jake　Stewart's　on　Fourteenth　Street　and　eat　a　fry　or　a　porterhouse　steak　and　then　I　sleep　good…that's　me。〃　　There　is　also　a　lively　lady　from　Albany　next　to　me　and　her　husband；　who　tells　anecdotes　of　the　war　just　as　though　it　had　happened　yesterday。　　Indeed；　they　are　all　so　much　older　than　I　that　all　their　talk　is　about　things　I　never　understood　the　truth　about；　and　it　is　most　interesting。　　I　really　do　not　know　when　I　have　enjoyed　my　meal　time　so　much。　　The　food　is　very　good；　although　queer　and　German；　and　we　generally　take　two　hours　to　each　sitting。　　Dr。　Field　is　my　especial　prey　and　he　makes　me　laugh　until　I　cry。　　He　is　just　like　James　Lewis　in　〃A　Night　Off；〃　and　is　always　rubbing　his　hands　and　smacking　his　lips　over　his　own　daring　exploits。　　I　twist　everything　he　says　into　meaning　something　dreadful；　and　he　is　instantly　explaining　he　did　not　really　see　a　bullfight；　but　that　he　walked　around　the　outside　of　the　building。　　I　have　promised　to　show　him　life　with　a　capital　L；　and　he　is　afraid　as　death　of　me。　　But　he　got　back　at　me　grandly　last　night　when　he　presented　a　testimonial　to　the　captain；　and　referred　to　the　captain's　wife　and　boy　whom　he　is　going　to　see　after　a　two　years'　absence；　at　which　the　captain　wept　and　everybody　else　wept。　　And　Field；　seeing　he　had　made　a　point；　waved　his　arms　and　cried；　〃I　have　never　　known　a　man　who　amounted　to　anything　who　had　not　a　good　wife　to　care　forexcept　YOU〃　he　shouted；　pointing　at　me；　〃and　no　woman　will　ever　save　YOU。〃　　At　which　the　passengers；　who　fully　appreciated　how　I　had　been　worrying　him；　applauded　loudly；　and　the　Doctor　in　his　delight　at　having　scored　on　me　forgot　to　give　the　captain　his　testimonial。

There　are　two　nice　girls　on　board　from　Chicago　and　a　queer　Southern　girl　who　paints　pictures　and　sings　and　writes　poetry；　and　who　is　traveling　with　an　odd　married　woman　who　is　an　invalid　and　who　like　everyone　else　on　board　has　apparently　spent　all　her　life　away　from　home。　　I　have　spent　my　odd　time　in　writing　the　story　I　told　Dad　the　night　before　I　sailed　and　I　think　it　in　some　ways　the　best；　quite　the　best；　I　have　written。　　I　read　it　to　the　queer　girl　and　her　queer　chaperon　and　they　weep　whenever　they　speak　of　it；　which　they　do　every　half　hour。　　All　the　passengers　apparently　laid　in　a　stock　of　〃Gallegher〃　and　〃The　West〃　before　starting；　and　young　women　in　yachting　caps　are　constantly　holding　me　up　for　autographs　and　favorite　quotations。　　Yesterday　we　passed　the　Azores　near　enough　to　see　the　windows　in　the　houses；　and　we　have　seen　other　islands　at　different　times；　which　is　quite　refreshing。　　Tomorrow　I　shall　post　this　and　the　trip　will　be　over。　　It　has　been　a　most　happy　start。　　I　am　not　going　to　write　letters　often；　but　am　going　head　over　ears　into　this　new　life　and　let　the　old　one　wait　awhile。　　You　cannot　handle　Africa　and　keep　up　your　fences　in　New　York　at　the　same　time。　　I　am　now　going　out　to　talk　to　the　Boston　couple；　or　to　propose　a　lion　hunt　to　Dr。　Field。

Since　I　wrote　that　last　I　have　seen　Portugal。　　It　made　me　seem　suddenly　very　far　away　from　New　York。　Portugal　is　a　high　hill　with　a　white　watch　tower　on　it　flying　signal　flags。　　It　is　apparently　inhabited　by　one　man　who　lives　in　a　long　row　of　yellow　houses　with　red　roofs；　and　populated　by　sheep　who　do　grand　acts　of　balancing　on　the　side　of　the　hill。　　There　is　also　a　Navy　of　a　brown　boat　with　a　leg…of…mutton　sail　and　a　crew　of　three　men　in　the　boatnot　to　speak　of　the　dog。　　It　is　a　great　thing　to　have　a　traveled　son。　　None　of　you　ever　saw　Portugal；　yah！

I　am　now　in　Gibraltar。　　It　is　a　large　place　and　there　does　not　seem　to　be　room　in　this　letter；　in　which　to　express　my　feelings　about　Moors　in　bare　legs　and　six　thousand　Red…coats　and　to　hear　Englishmen　speak　again。　　When　I　woke　up　Gibraltar　was　a　black　silhouette　against　the　sky；　but　toward　the　south　there　was　a　low　line　of　mountains　with　a　red　sky　behind　them；　dim　and　mysterious　and　old；　and　that　was　Africa。　　Then　Spain　turned　up　all　amethyst　and　green；　and　the　Mediterranean　as　blue　as　they　tell　you　it　is。　　They　wouldn't　let　me　take　my　gun　into　Gibraltar。　They　know　my　reputation　for　war。

DICK。

GIBRALTAR。

February　14th；　1893。　DEAR　MOTHER：

The　luck　of　the　British　Army　which　I　am　modestly　fond　of　comparing　with　my　own　took　a　vacation　yesterday　as　soon　as　I　had　set　foot　on　land。　　In　the　first　place　Egypt　had　settled　down　to　her　sluggish　Nile　like　calm　and　cholera　had　quarantined　the　ship　I　wanted　to　take　to　Algiers；　shutting　off　Algiers　and　what　was　more　important　Tunis。　　The　Governor　was　ill　shutting　off　things　I　wanted　and　his　adjutant　was　boorish　and　proud　and　haughty。　　Then　I　determined　to　go　to　Spain　but　found　I　had　arrived　just　one　day　too　late　for　the　last　of　the　three　days　of　the　Mardi　Gras　and　too　early　for　bull　fights。　　Had　I　taken　Saavedra's　letters　I　should　have　gone　to　Madrid　and　met　the　Queen　and　other　proud　folks。　　So　on　the　whole　I　was　blue。　　But　I　have　now　determined　to　take　a　boat　for　Tangier　at　once　where　I　have　letters　to　the　Duke　de　Tnas　who　is　the　Master　of　the　Hounds　there　and　a　great　sport　and　they　say　it　is　very　amusing　and　exciting。　　In　a　fortnight　I　shall　go　to　Malta。　　I　called　on　Harry　Cust's　brother　and　told　him　who　I　was　and　he　took　me　in　and　put　me　at　the　head　of　the　table　of　young　subalterns　in　grand　uniforms　and　we　had　marmalade　and　cold　beef　and　beer　and　I　was　happy　to　the　verge　of　tears　to　hear　English　as　she　is　spoke。　　Then　we　went　to　a　picnic　and　took　tea　in　a　smuggler's　cave　and　all　the　foxterriers　ran　over　the　table　cloth　and　the　Captain　spilt　hot　water　over　his　white　flannels　and　jumped　around　on　one　leg。　　After　which　we　played　a　handkerchief　game　sitting　in　a　row　and　pelting　the　girls　with　a　knotted　handkerchief　and　then　fighting　for　it　During　one　of　these　scrimmages　Mulvaney；　two　others　and　Learoyd　came　by　and　with　eyes　front　and　hands　at　their　caps　marched　on　with　stolid　countenances；　but　their　officers　were　embarrassed。　　It　is　hard　to　return　a　salute　with　your　face　in　the　sand　and　a　stout　American　sitting　on　your　neck　and　pulling　your　first　lieutenant's　leg。　　I　am　now　deeply　engaged　for　dinners　and　dances　and　teas　and　rides　and　am　　feeling　very　cheerful　again。　　I　am　also　very　well　thank　you　and　have　no　illnesses　of　any　sort。　　You　told　me　to　be　sure　and　put　that　in　As　you　see；　I　have　cut　out　half　of　my　trip　to　avoid　the　cholera；　so　you　need　not　worry　about　THAT。　　To…day　I　am　going　over　the　ramparts　as　much　as　they　will　allow　and　to…morrow　I　go　to　Tangier　where　I　expect　to　have　some　boar　hunting。　　I　would　suggest　your　getting　The　Evangelist　in　a　week　or　two　as　Dr。　Field's　letters　cover　all　I　have　seen。　　I　do　not　tell　you　anything　about　the　place　because　you　will　read　that　in　the　paper　to　the　H。　W。　but　I　can　assure　you　the　girls　are　very　pretty　and　being　garrison　girls　are　not　as　shy　as　those　at　home　in　England。　　I　am　the　first　American　they　ever　met　they　assure　me　every　hour　and　we　get　on　very　well　notwithstanding。

You　can　imagine　what　it　is　like　when　Spaniards；　Moors　and　English　Soldiers　are　all　crowded　into　one　long　street　with　donkeys　and　geese　and　priests　and　smugglers　and　men　in　polo　clothes　and　soldiers　in　football　suits　and　sailors　from　the　man…of…war。　　Of　course；　the　Rock　is　the　best　story　of　it　all。　　It　is　a　fair　green　smiling　hill　not　a　fortress　at　all。　　No　more　a　fortress　to　look　at　than　Fairmont　Park　water　works；　but　the　joke　of　it　is　that　under　every　bush　there　is　a　gun　and　every　gun　is　painted　green　and　covered　with　hanging　curtains　of　moss　and　every　promenade　is　undermined　and　the　bleakest　face　of　the　rock　is　tunnelled　with　rooms　and　halls。　　Every　night　we　are　locked　in　and　the　soldiers　carry　the　big　iron　keys　clanking　through　the　streets。　　It　is　going　to　make　interesting　reading。　DICK。

GIBRALTAR。

DEAR　MOTHER：　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　February　23rd；　1893。

AEneas　who　〃ran　the　round　of　so　many　chances〃　in　this　neighborhood　was　a　stationary　stay　at　home　to　what　I　have　to　do。　　If　I　ever　get　away　from　the　Rock　I　shall　be　a　traveller　of　the　greatest　possible　experience。

I　came　here　intending　to　stay　a　week　and　to　write　my　letter　on　Gib。　and　on　Tangier　quietly　and　peacefully　like　a　gentleman　and　then　to　go　on　to　Malta。　　I　love　this　place　and　there　is　something　to　do　and　see　every　minute　of　the　time　but　what　happened　was　this：　　All　the　boats　that　ever　left　here　stopped　running；　broke　shafts；　or　went　into　quarantine　or　just　sailed　by；　and　unless　I　want　to　spend　two　weeks　on　the　sea　in　order　to　have　one　at　Malta；　which　is　only　a　military　station　like　this；