Home > Authors Index > Marietta Holley > Samantha at Coney Island > This page
Samantha at Coney Island, a novel by Marietta Holley |
||
Chapter 3. We Seek Quiet And Happiness In Their Beautiful Hants... |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER THREE. WE SEEK QUIET AND HAPPINESS IN THEIR BEAUTIFUL HANTS AND MINGLE WITH THE PLEASURE SEEKERS OF ALEXANDRIA BAY
And agin we'd go by a kinder high island with a tall, noble mansion standin' up on it with towers and balconies, and winders all ornamented off, and flags a-flyin'. And every house and every tentin' ground had their own little wharfs runnin' down into the water and boats hitched to 'em, jest as we'd hitch the old mair and colt to a hitchin' post. And most of 'em had picturesque boat-houses painted up like the houses. And all of these pretty houses and towers and flags and boats and everything wuz reflected down into the water, so there wuz handsome pictures above, and still more extremely beautiful ones below. For the sunlight shadow pictures wuz more beautiful fur than the reality, as is often the case. Every little sail-boat and canoe had its white shadder floatin' along by it, shinin' out from the blue and sea-green surface of the water. Josiah wuz turrible interested in tryin' to see if the reflections wuz exactly like the real seen up above, and he kept leanin' over the edge of the boat tryin' to turn his head upside down so's to git a better look, and at last he nearly fell overboard into the water only I grabbed him quick. Sometimes,--I don't know what made it,--there would be long lines of light in different colors layin' on the water; long waveless furrows of palest amethyst, lilock, pale rose-color, and pearl, soft green and blue, way off and near to, wide and long and changin' all the time. Why, some of the time it would seem as if the surface of the river wuz a shinin' pavement made of them glowin' and lustrous colors, that you might walk out on. And then agin, cold Reality would say to you that if you tried it, you'd most probable git drownded. Anon we went by a island with a house standin' on it, the hull thing seemin'ly nothin' but house right in the strongest current of the river, and on the end of the island wuz a wheel fixed that run all the machinery of the house, lightin' it, and pumpin' water, and runnin' the coffee mill and sewin' machine, and rockin' the cradle, for all I know. The river waitin' on 'em, and doin' it cheerful. A soarin' soul of power and might, so strong that a wink from its old eye-lids could swallow up a fleet of ships, and a flirt of its fingers overthrow a army of strongest men and toss 'em about like leaves on an autumn gale. To see such a powerful, noble body, that wuz used to doin' the biggest kind of jobs, quietly bucklin' down pumpin' water to supply a tea-kettle, and churn a little butter, mebby! Why, thinks I, what a lesson to hired girls that is, they're always so fraid of doin' a little more than it is their place to do. They're so fraid of settin' back a chair, if it is their place to cook, and so afraid of bilin' a egg if it is their place to slick up the house. Why, it wuz a lesson in morals to see that big grand river crumplin' down to do housework for a spell. Frontenac Island used to be called Round Island, I guess because it wuz kinder square in shape. It is a handsome place with a immense hotel[A] settin' back most a quarter of a mild, and jined by a long railed balcony with another, makin' room enough, it seemed to me, for an army. The broad, handsome path leadin' up to it wuz bordered with beautiful flowers and shrubs, lookin' lovely against the vivid green of the lawn. I liked the name Frontenac first rate, and Point Vivian, and the name of the hotel on St. Lawrence Park, Lotus, seemed highly appropriate for the idle hours of rest and pleasure in the balmy summer-time. And that park, while it could pass itself off for an island, wuz really the main land. And if you wanted a doctor on a dark, stormy night, you could get one without going on the wild waves; and if you got skairt in the night and sot off to run, you could run as fur as you wanted to without gittin' drownded. I spoke to Josiah about this and he agreed with me, though he took the occasion to bring in Coney Island, much to my shagrin. "I wish," sez he, "I wish we could stop off somewheres and git a hot dog." "A hot dog?" sez I, consternation showin' in my foretop. "Don't you know that dogs roamin' round loose and overhet in this sultry weather is apt to git mad and bite you?" "'Tain't that kind of animile I mean. I mean the kind they eat--in Coney Island." "Do they eat dogs in Coney Island?" I asks in a faint voice. "Yes," sez he. "And would you eat enny on't?" "Why not?" sez he. "Why not?" I cries regainin' my voice to once. "Josiah Allen, have you became a canibal like them as lives in heathen lands and welcomes civilized folks with open mouths?" "Oh," sez he, "'tain't nothin' like that. These dogs hain't made o' people. No, they air made from sassiges and cooked in front of a open grate fire. They call 'em hot dogs and Serenus sez--" I didn't gin him no chance to tell what Serenus sez. I sez many things to him there and then that wuz calculated to make him forgit Coney Island for awhile. But to resoom forwards. We went by a big castle that wuz built up on a hill on a island of considerable size with quite a grove of trees on it. It wuz a noble, gray stun castle, with high towers and pinnacles shinin' up toward the blue sky--Castle Rest, its name wuz, and I thought most probable anybody could rest there first rate. The one that built it and the one it wuz built for, had gone up into another castle to rest, the great Castle of Rest, whose walls can't be moved by any earthly shock. A good little mother it wuz built for, a hard-workin', patient, tired-out little mother, who wuz left with a house full of boys, and not much in the house, only boys. How she worked and toiled to keep 'em comfortable and git 'em headed right, washin', cookin', makin', and mendin'; learnin' 'em truthfulness, honesty, and industry with their letters; teachin' 'em the multiplication table and the commandments; trimmin' off their childish faults, same as she did their hair; clippin' 'em off with her own anxious lovin' hands. Mebby puttin' a bowl on their heads and cuttin' round it, or else shinglin' 'em. But 'tennyrate doin' her best for them, soul and body, till she got 'em headed right. Some on 'em givin' their hull lives to help men's souls, lovin' this old world mebby for their ma's sake, because it held so many other good wimmen; for they jest about worshipped her all on 'em. And one of her boys, while the rest of 'em wuz helpin' men and wimmen to build up better lives, he wuz buildin' up his creed of helpfulness and improvement in bricks and mortar, tryin' to do good, there hain't a doubt on't. Mebby them walls didn't stand so firm as the others did, and tottled more now and then. Strange, hain't it, that solid bricks and stuns, that you feel and see, are less endurin' and firm than the things you can't see--changed lives, faith, hope, charity, love to God, good-will to man, and that whiter ideals and loftier aims and desires may tower up higher than any chimbly that ever belched out smoke. Curious it is so, but so it is. But 'tennyrate this one son rode on his sleepin' cars right into millions, and his first thought wuz how he could please best the little Mother. So he built a castle for her. Tired little feet, walkin' the round of humble duties, waitin' on her small boys, did they ever expect to tread the walls of a castle? Her own too. I'll bet it seemed dretful big to her, or would anyway if it hadn't been so full, so runnin' over full of the love and thoughtfulness of all of her boys--and Love will fill and glorify cottage or castle. But here she come yearly and gathered her strong, stalwart sons about her, welcomin' them with the same old tender smile, and constant love, and she, wropt completely round in the warm atmosphere of their love and devotion. Year after year went happily by till the last time came, and she went away out of her high castle into a still higher one. But I liked Castle Rest, for it seemed a monument riz up to faithful, patient mothers fur and near, rich and poor, by the hand of filial gratitude and love. Comfort Island is real comfortable lookin', and Friendly Island looked friendly and neighborly. And Nobby Island looked grand and stately instead of nobby, the great house settin' up there on a high rock with big green lawns and windin' paths under the shade trees, and the bright faced posies on its tall banks peekin' over to see their faces in the deep water below, and mebby lookin' for the kind master who had gone away to stay. [Illustration: "_I liked Castle Rest. It seemed a monument riz up to faithful, patient mothers by the hand of filial gratitude and love._" (_See page 48_)] And pretty soon our boat sorter turned round and backed up graceful into Alexandria Bay, and we hitched it there and lay off agin the harbor real neighborly. There wuz two hotels there in plain sight, each one on 'em as long as from our house to Miss Derias Bobbettses, all fixed off with piazzas and porticos and pillows and awnin's and handsome colors from the basement clear up--up--up to the ruff, and the grounds laid out perfectly beautiful. Grass plats and terraces and long flights of stairs, and glowin' flower beds and summer houses and long smooth walks and short ones, and everything. And folks all the time santerin' up and down the terraces and walks, and up and down the piazzas and balconies. It beat all what a lot of steam yots and sailboats there wuz all round us. It seemed as if every island had a boat of its own and had sent 'em all to Alexandria Bay that mornin'. I thought mebby they'd hearn we wuz comin', and they wuz there to git a glimpse of us. But Whitfield said the boats come to git the mail, and mebby it wuz so. Every yot wuz tootin' on its own separate engine; it made the seen lively but not melogious. One of the boats had a whistle that sounded as if you'd begin to holler down real low and then let your voice rise gradual till you yelled out jest as loud as you could, and then died down your yell agin real low. It sounded curous. I hearn it wuz tryin' to raise and fall the eight notes, and it riz and fell 'em I should judge. Some of the yots had a loud shrill whistle, some a little, fine clear one; then one would belch out low and deep some like thunder. And anon our steamer thundered forth its own deep belchin' whistle, and turned round graceful and backed off, and puffed, puffed back agin down the bay. As we turned round, a bystander, standin' by, spoke of Bonnie Castle. It stood up sort o' by itself on a rock one side of Alexandria Bay. And I wondered if Holland's earnest soul that had thought so much on't once, ever looked down on it now. For instance when the full moon wuz high in the cloudless sky, and Bonnie Castle riz up fair as a dream, with blue clear sky above, and silence, and deep blue shinin' water below--and silence. And mebby some night bird singin' out of the pretty green garden to its mate in the cool shadows. I wondered if the lovin' soul who created it ever looked down from the blessed life, with love and longin' to the old earth-nest--home of his heart. I spozed that he did, but couldn't tell for certain. For the connection has never been made fast and plain on the Star Route to Heaven. Love rears its stations here and tries to take the bearin's, but we hain't quite got the wires to jine. Sometimes we feel a faint jarrin' and thrill as if there wuz hands workin' on the other end of the line. We feel the thrill, we see the glow of the signal lights they hold up, but we can't quite ketch the words. We strain our ears through the darkness--listening! listening! Right acrost from Alexandria Bay is Heart Island; you'd know it at night if you couldn't see the island, for a big heart of flashin' electric lights is lifted up on a high pole, that can be seen fur and near. As well as the big shinin' cross of light that is lifted up every night on another island nigh by in memory of a sweet soul that used to live there, and is lookin' down on it now, more'n as likely as not. Heart Island is owned by a rich New York man. It is almost covered with buildin's of different sizes and ruined castles (the ruins all new, you know; ruined a-purpose), the buildin's made of the gray stun the island is composed of. And there are gorgeous flower beds and lawns green as emerald, and windin' walks lined with statuary, and rare vases runnin' over with blossoms and foliage, and a long, cool harbor, fenced in with posies where white swans sail, archin' up their proud necks as if lookin' down on common ducks and geese. There wuz ancient stun architecture, and modern wood rustic work, and I sez to Josiah, "They believe in not slightin' any of the centuries; they've got some of most every kind of architecture from Queen Mary down to Taft." And he sez, "It is a crackin' good plan too; amongst all on 'em they're sure to git some of the best." "Yes," sez I, "and it shows a good-hearted sperit too, not wantin' to slight anybody." Jest then I heard a bystander say, "Amongst all the places to the Islands, this place and Browney's take the cake." Brownings is another beautiful place just round the corner where the flower-garlanded rocks looks down into the deep clear waters anxious to see their own beauty. And a handsome residence a little back and a big farm full of everything desirable. Only a little way acrost from Alexandria Bay is Westminster Park, a handsome little village, with a big hotel set back under its green trees and lots of cottages round it. A nice meetin' house too, and everything else for its comfort. And all the way to the Methodist place we wuz bound for, fair islands riz up out of the water, crowned with trees and houses and tents and everything. No sooner would you go by one, than another would hove in sight. Anon we come in sight of a little village of houses fringin' the shore, called Fair View, and our next stoppin' place wuz the Camp ground. I'd hearn, time and agin, they wuz so strict there you'd have to pay for every step you took from the ship to your boarding place. And if you said anything, you would have to pay so much a word; or if you sithed, you'd have to pay so much a sithe, or breathe deep you would have to pay accordin' to the deepness of your breath. But it wuzn't no such thing; we never paid a cent, and I sithed deep and frequent on the way up from the wharf, for weariness lay holt of me and also little Delight. She preferred hangin' onto me ruther than her parents. And I'd hearn that you'd be fined for laughin', and for a snicker or giggle; but I heard several snickers (Whitfield is full of fun, and young folks _will_ be young folks, and talk and laugh) and not one cent did we see asked for 'em. Why, I'd hearn that they wouldn't let a good smart whiff of wind land there on Sunday. The trustees kep' 'em off and preached at 'em, and made 'em blow off Clayton way. And I wuz told that the Sea Serpent (you know he always duz like summer resorts), took it into his head to go to the Islands one summer and happened to git to the Thousand Island Park on Sunday, and wuz swoshin' round in the water in front of the dock, kinder switchin' his tail and actin'. And the trustees got wind on't and went down with rails and tracts and they railed at him, and exhorted him and made him fairly ashamed of bein' round on Sunday. And wantin' to do a clean job with him, bein' dretful mad at his bein' out on the Sabbath day, they got a copy of their laws and restrictions governin' the Park, and they said when the serpent hearn that long document read over, he jest switched his tail, kinder disgusted like, and turned right round in the water and headed off for Kingston. But I don't believe a word on it. I don't believe much in the sea serpent anyway, and I don't believe it ever come nigh the Thousand Island Park grounds--only the usual old serpent of Evil, that the good Christians there fight agin all they can. ----- [A] The great hotel which Samantha here describes was destroyed by fire in August last. _ |
||