COURTING ON THE "L"
AN EARLY MORNING INOIDENT WITH A TOUCH OF ROMANCE, BY JACOB H. RIIS. The sleeper on the 3.35 a.m. elevated train from the Harlem bridge was awake for once. The sleeper is the last car In the train, and has its own set that snores nightly in the same seats, grunts with the fixed inhospitality of the commuter at the intrusion of the stranger, and is on terms with Conrad, the German oon« duotor, who knows each one of his passengers and wakes him up at his station. The sleeper is unique. It is run for the benefit of those who ride in it, not for tbe company's. It not only puts them off properly ; it waltß for them, if they are not there, The conduotor knows that they will como. They are men, mostly, with small homes beyond the bridge, whose work tabes them down to the markets, the postoffioe, and tbe busy marts of the city long before cookcrow. The diy begins in New York at all hours. Usually the sleeper Is all that the name implies, but this morning it was as far from it as oould be. A party of young people fresh from a neighbourhood hop, had come on board and filled the rear end of tho car. Their feet tripped yet to the dance, and snatches of • The Beautiful Blue Danube ' floated through the train between peals of laughter and little girlish shrieks. The regulars glared, discontented, in Btrange Beats, unable to go to sleep. Only the railroad yardmen dropped off promptly es they came in. Theirs was the shortest ride, and they could at least afford to Urne time. Two old Irishmen, flanked by their dinner pails, gravely discusaed the Henry George campaign. Across the passage sat a group of three apart; a young man, a girl, and a little, elderly woman with lines of asre and hard work in her pationt taoa. She guarded carefully threo umbrellas, a very old and faded one and two' that were new and of silk, whioh she held in her lap, though it had not rained for a month. He was a likely young fellow, tall and straight, with the thoughtful eye of a student. His dark hair fell nearly to bis shoulder, and his coat had a foreign cut. The girl was a typioal child of the olty, slight and graceful of form, dreHOed in good taste and with a bright, winning face. The two chatted confidentially together, forgetfol of all else, while mamma, between them, nodded sleepily in her sleep. A sudden burst of white light flooded the oar. 1 Hey ! Ninety.Nlnth street ! " called the conduotor, rattling the door. The railroad men tumbled out pollmell, all but one. Conrad shook him, and he went out, mechanioally, blinking his eyes. ' Eighty-Ninth next I ' from the doorway. The laughter at tho rear end of the oar had died out. The young people in a quieter mood were humming a popular love song. Presently above the rest roBO a dear tone : n, promise 1110 that somo day you and I will Hike our love together to some sky Whore wo can bo alone and faith renew— The clatter of the train as it flaw over a uwitph drowned the rest, When the last wheel had banged upon the frog, I heard the yonng Btudent's voice In the soft accents of Southern Europe t ' Wenn loh in Wien war—' he was telling her of his home and his people In the language of his childhood. I glanoed across. She sat listening with kindling eyes. Mamma slumbered sweetly ; her worn old hands olutobed unoonsoiously the umbrellas in her lap. Tho two Irishmen, having settled the .campaign, had dropped to Bleep, too. In the crowded ear the two were alone. His hand' sought hero, and mot it half WAV • Forty-Seventh 1' There was a clatter of tin oans below. The contingent of milkmen toramblod out of t^elr seats and off for the depot. In the lull that followed their going the tenor rose from the last seat. Thoso first sweet violets of early spring Which conic in whispers, thrill us both and Of lovo unspeuktiblo that Is to bo, O, promise mo ! O, promise me. The two yonng people faced eaoh other. He had thrown his hat upon the seat beside him and held her hand faßt, gesticulating with his free hand as he Bpoke rapidly, eloquently, eagerly of his prospeots and his hopeß. Her own toyed nervously with hiß coat lapel, twißting and twirling a button aB he -n!nt on. What he said might have been heard to the other end of the oar had there been anybody to listen. He wbb to live here always ; bis unole would open a business in New York, of whioh he was to have ouarge, when he hsd learned to know tbe pountry and its
people: It would not be long now, and i then— and then— \ ' Twenty-Third street ! ' ) There was n long stop after the levy I for the ferries had left. The condnotor j went out on the platform nnd consulted j with the ticket chopper. He was soruti- f nizlng his watoh for the second time, j when the faint jingle oE an oast bennd | car was heard . | ' There she comes said,' the ticket- r chopper. ' j A shout and a man bounded np the stairs three at a time. It was an I engineer who, to make connection with his looomotlve at Chatham square, must catoh that train. ! ' Hullo, Conrad ! Nearly missed yon 1 ' 1 he said as he jumped on the oar, breathless. 'All right, Jack,' and the conductor jerked the bell rope. ' Yon made It, though,' The train sped on. Twoliveß, heretofore runuing apart, were hastening to a union. Tbe lovers had seen nothing, heard nothing but but eaoh other. His eyes burned as her'i met bis and fell before them. His head bent lower until bis face almost | touched hers. His dark hair lay upon her blonde curio. The ostrloh feather on her had swopt his shoulder, ' Moegst Da mioh haben P ' he entreated. Above the grinding of the wheels as the train slowed up for the , station a block ahead, pleaded the tenor : O promise >"° tliul* you will take 1115' linncl, Tho most unworthy in this lonely landDid she speak ? Her face was hidden) but the blonde curls moved with a nod so slight that only a lover's eye could see It. Ho seized her disengaged hand. The conduotor Btuck his head into the car. ' Fourteenth street ! ' A sqnsd of stout, florid men with butchers' aprons started for tho door. The girl arose hastily. ' Maramn ! ' she called, ' steh auf ! Is Ist Fourteenth street.' The little woman woke up, gathered the umbrellas in her arms, and bustled after the market men, her daughter loading the w&y. He sat aa one dreaming' ' Ach I ' he sighed, and ran his hand through his dark hair, ' so rasch.' And he went out after them.
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Bibliographic details
Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10921, 21 May 1898, Page 5
Word Count
1,170COURTING ON THE "L" Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10921, 21 May 1898, Page 5
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