CHAPTER XIII.
INTRODUCES THE EVANGELIST.
That night was a memorable one for Ben. It is not often that a man lies down to sleep, in full sight and hearing of three hundred of his fellow mortals; not to mention three hundred with such peculiar characteristics as separate the genus tramp from the rest of God's creation.
Ben reclined on a hand and elbow, wide awake, listening to the various noises proceeding from the sleepers. Snores, grunts, exclamations, curses, prayer, laughter and writhing proceeded from the bodies laboring under Dame Nature's mild anæsthetic. While so listening, a tall, thin figure approached him. It was a pale, long-faced young man, who had an air of dilapidated gentility about him, that was in unison with his intelligent, but care-worn, face. Noticing Ben's wakefulness, he said:
"I see that you, like myself, cannot sleep. What a pen of human swine it is!" and he seated himself beside our friend.
"Which way are you travelling?" asked Ben.
"I go west in the morning. Which direction are you taking?"
"I am going to St. Louis," answered Cleveland.
"Very well, we will go together. That suits me. I thought it would be easiest to get on a coal fleet and go down the river with it, but I find the fleet is hung up here for want of water, and there is no telling when the river will raise. So we had best take the road for it," observed the stranger.
"Have you ever been to St. Louis?" inquired Ben.
"Oh, yes," replied he, "several times."
"Tramped it?"
"Tramped it."
"But," hesitatingly suggested Ben, "you appear to be a man of intelligence, I should think you could do better than leading the life of a tramp."
"Think nothing of the sort," responded the stranger. "A man in this world does just what he is fitted for. Habits, that I need not specify, have drifted me into this life, and I am becoming confirmed in it."
"But do you not struggle against it."
"Yes, Idostruggle, but each struggle is weaker and weaker, and shorter and shorter. You appear to be above the average tramp, and as we are to travel together, I'll tell you some of my history without asking any of your own in return. I had a fair education and studied for the ministry. Until my mother died (and at mention of that sacred name of mother his voice softened) I had something to live for, some one to make proud of me. But on her death I was left alone in life, and though homage comes from all the world, it can not give a mother's praise. With a naturally unstable disposition I took to rambling, and I have been rambling ever since."
"And do you never try to settle down; never attempt anything permanent?" persisted Ben.
"Oh yes," returned the other with a laugh; "I have been reporter, auctioneer, teamster, raftsman, railroader, clerk, stable-hand, and Evangelist!"
"Evangelist!" exclaimed Cleveland.
"Yes," replied he, and immediately the "tramp" presented itself; "don't you know the racket. Lots of the boys made a stake at it last year. It's the Moody business gave them a starter. First they evangelized themselves and then started out to evangelize others, with a weather eye out for financial matters."
Ben was horrified! He had attended the Hippodrome meetings and been greatly impressed with the work of the revivalists, and had never connected a mercenary thought with them. This new development of using revivals for money-making purposes grated harshly on his feelings, and so he expressed himself.
"And why not?" asked the Evangelist. "People are willing to pay well for being led to the devil, why should they not pay to be started on the road to Heaven? It is singular that men should honor money-making by all methods except the saving of their souls."
"But are the Evangelists engaged in money-making?" asked Ben.
"To an extent—certainly. Why not? It is dishonest? Look-a-here, why don't you view this matter practically? What's the use of giving it a fictitious reputation? Is it dishonest? No. Why should not men make money in doing good as well as in doing evil? Oh why should there be any attempt to disguise the matter? There is where the mistake is made, for it gives to good works a taint of deception. Do you for a moment suppose the world does not see under the cloak of a 'call' the greed of gain! Why not be open and above board and say, 'Wedo this good for money'? Is honesty a crime? Indeed I half believe it is. When I started as an Evangelist, I fixed a fair remuneration for my services, and demanded it the same as I would wages for any other work. What was the result. I was called mercenary, and people said I not only laborized for the good of my fellow man, but for the good of my pocket also. I was fool enough to acknowledge it, and shortly found my services no longer in demand. Naturally I changed my tactics. I no longer asked a stipulated remuneration. I was not after money. But quietly determined that money should be after me. The result was I received more in contributions than I ever could have obtained in wages. Do you think people were not aware of my object just the same, because I did not make a demand? Perhaps you will learn, as you journey through life, that all the world wears a mask, and though the mask may be transparent, it is highly impolitic to ask its removal. Humanity is an ostrich, with its head in a sandbank!"
"Did you make it pay?" asked Ben.
"Oh, yes, it paid well enough."
"Why did you not stick to it then?"
The brows of the dilapidated cynic contracted as he responded:
"Because from a child I have been unable to stick to anything. There is no permanency in me. I am as shifting as running water. There, there; you need not ask why I do not school myself to more stable habits; as I am, Iam; and be it fault or misfortune, so it is."
Ben's mental eye looked upon his new acquaintance through a fog. He could not understand him. At the same time the thought suggested itself to him: "What a purposeless, objectless life! What if my own should shape itself to such a result!" and then the more encouraging reflection came to him: "Better a tramp, with a New Orleans to be attained, than a Ben Cleveland dozing life away on Smythe's lawn."
His new acquaintance having relieved himself of an over load of cynicism proved to be a pleasant conversationalist, and a well informed man. He was apparently a harmless creature, placed on earth to fill up one of the chinks in its great social structure.
The breakfast in the morning was a repetition of the previous evening's supper, save that the soup had fewer odds and ends in it. Though Ben had refused the article the night before he found himself eating heartily of it at the breakfast table, greatly to the disappointment of the thin man, who had purposely secured a seat next to him, with hopes based on his good fortune at the supper table. Alas, they were delusive ones. Ben cleaned out his pan, and felt substantially full.
In company with the Evangelist he made his way to the city of Alleghany, on the opposite side of the river of that name, and there the two had a council of war. It was finally agreed that they should walk that day, and reach some point where a train could be boarded during the evening. Accordingly they followed the track that borders the Ohio, until within an hour of sunset, when they found themselves near the town of Economy; a settlement of industrious Germans who are trying so to live that the transition from life to death will be hardly noticeable, save that it causes the reflection that for all intents and purposes they might as well have been born dead. It is a communal settlement, and propagation is unknown. By strict frugality, industry and the natural growth of wealth much money has been amassed, and the riches undoubtedly give them all the enjoyment of possession. One of these days when the last Economist shall have departed for Eternity, with his shekel done up in a napkin, there will be a delightful hubbub over the ownership of the thousands they have accumulated.
Before reaching the settlement our travellers were met by a lone tramp, on his way to New York City, for the purpose of viewing the abutments of the East River bridge. He had heard and read so much about that structure, while summering in the vicinity of St. Paul, that his curiosity was aroused, and he thought to have a look at it.
"I have not come from Minnesota direct," he explained; "I went to St. Louis to see the bridge Eads built so as I could compare the two. I takes a great interest in public works, and more 'specially engineering. Sometimes I think I'd a made a good bridge builder myself, but I served my time in a bakery, and never had no inclination for bread, 'cept to eat it." He might further have stated that being a gentleman of impecunious leisure, and time not being money with him, he had all the advantages necessary for indulging his penchant for investigating public works.
"You're near Economy now," he continued, "and you can stop over night with the 'brothers.' I'll tell you how you can do it. Old 'brother' Rapp will meet you and he'll say 'no.' Then you just ask him to give you a few matches, and when he asks what for, say it's to build a fire and cook you something to eat and sleep by, and you'll see how quick he'll ask you to come in and stop. So long." And the tourist again resumed his way toward the East River bridge. Ben and his comrade had no intention of remaining over night in Economy, however. They took supper there though, being hospitably received and treated to plenty of fresh coarse bread, cheese and smoked sausage, the latter so hard that it would have made a dent in an oak plank. Politely thanking their entertainers they resumed the track in the balmy dusk of evening, listening to Nature's vesper hymn.
Along the roadway, and from swamp and pasture and woodland, came the chorus of a million throats. The deep base of some old patriarchal serenader heightened the treble of the noisy newts. Afar off the tinkle of a cow bell floated softly over the hills; the rustling of dried leaves; the snapping of a fallen bough: the owl's whoop from out his hermit dell; the beetle's never changing drone; the call of katydid, and the mournful notes of the whip-poor-will, all mingled in the evening service; and the heart of Ben stopped to listen, and all the sophistry, cynicism and doubtings that this world possesses, could not at that moment have prevented him from thinking that this life is not the be-all and the end-all, here; but that far, far beyond the star lit girdle of earth there is another, a better, and a purer one.