Chapter 5
Chapter 5 of Tilt-a-Jane. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Audrey Giger. Tilt-a-Jane by Marshall Saunders. Chapter 5. Another Adventure.
The quietest and most undemonstrative passenger on the night train from Boston was the shabby little girl in the corner with the bundle beside her on the seat. The conductor, after one sharp glance, paid no attention to her. The brakeman paid no attention to her. The boy with the gumdrops in the novels ignored her. She had the air of knowing where she was going and also of being utterly uninteresting and greatly to her relief she was left entirely
to her own devices. In reality, Tilt-a-Jane was in a state of semi-paralysis. She scarcely dared to move, All her life had been spent in the quiet precincts of the asylum. She had scarcely been allowed to go to the small village in its vicinity and when she had been allowed to visit it, she had seen nothing as wonderful as this, for there was no railway there. It took her
breath away to be whirled along at so rapid a rate. She wondered how the people dared to walk about. She wondered how she had ever had the courage enough to step on board the flaming roaring monster that had come rushing out of the woods as if it would devour the little station, the agent, herself and her dog. But they had not been devoured and the agent had guided her staggering footsteps toward the monster. If he had not done so,
she would in her bewilderment have been left to pray for the pitiless Mrs. Minley. For two hours she sat with swimming brain. Then it occurred to her that she must in some way acquaint this wonderful and frightful means of locomotion with her desire to alight She closely watched the people entering and leaving the car and discovered that immediately following the entrance of a man who balled some unintelligible exclamation, something took place
that reminded her of a game play at the asylum. Certain people went out and certain others came in and took their places. She must catch this noisy man and speak to him. She patiently waited for him to pass through the car once he swept by her and then sometime elapsed before she saw him again. The train had been waiting for fifteen minutes at a station. A number of men had gone out and presently come back brushing their mustaches and with toothpicks between their
teeth. This must be an eating place. And Ruth Ann said that till the train would arrive in Kiskeset before breakfast time. The little girl desperately addressed a passenger passing her. I say sir, when do we come to Kiskeset? Kiskeset! repeated the man. We passed it an hour ago. Passed it? she echoed stupidly. The man turned to a newsagent sauntering by. Here, you, send the conductor here. The conductor did not appear but a brakeman came. Got carried beyond your station
little girl. You're in Canada now but it's alright, we'll ship you off at the next stop. Number eight will take you back. Alright. Till the Jane fell back on her seat with a strange thinking of heart. She remembered now that Hank Delson had said the conductor would holler at Kiskeset but if he had done so she had not distinguished the words in the strange sounds issuing from his mouth. It seemed as if only a few bewildered minutes had passed when someone
ejaculated. Macadam junction! And the friendly brakeman was beside her. She felt herself lifted from her seat, bundle and all and swung to a platform where she stood among a group of people. She did not know where to go or what to do and remained as one in a dream until someone touched her shoulder. You, the little girl, carried beyond her station. Yes, sir, she gasped and looked up into the pleasant face of a young man bending over her. Alright, the conductor told me about you.
Come in here. And he led the way to a waiting room. Had your breakfast? No, sir, but I've got it here. She pulled Ruth Ann's parcel out of her pocket. The young man smiled and motioned it back. Come have some hot coffee. And he passed through a doorway into an eating room where Tilda Jane presently found herself seated before a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of beefsteak and potatoes. I ain't got any money to pay for this, she said bluntly to the young woman who sat
attempting violence before her. That's alright, said the girl, smiling. Tilda Jane picked up her knife and fork. Alright, seemed to be a real way expression. It was immensely comforting to her and she soberly partook of the hot breakfast, drank all her coffee and emptied the scraps from her plate into her handkerchief. Then she approached the counter where the young woman stood. Thank you kindly, ma'am. I've made a good meal. Then she went outdoors into the crisp morning air.
The snowstorm was over and the day was delightful. Blue above, white below. It was like a fairy world. She walked to the end of the platform, unrolled her shawl and, freeing her mummy-like dog, set his breakfast before him. He ate with avidity, then, showing at his inclination to return to his bandages, hopped on his three legs along the platform beside her, his crooked tail meanwhile describing successive circles in the air. Some of the loiterers about the station gathered around
him and, seeing that his bodily infirmities were a subject of mirth rather than of compassion, Tilda Jane, in spite of warm protests on his part, once more swathed him in his shawl and carried him with dignity into the waiting room. There she sat until the agreeable young man ran in and said her train was coming. Something warned her that she ought to implore him to tell someone to take care of her, to see that she did not again get carried beyond her destination,
when a kind of paralysis seized upon her tongue and she could only open her mouth and gaze stupidly at him. "'You'll be all right now,' he said with a nod. "'Jump when you hear kiss cassette.'" "'Kiss cassette, kiss cassette,' she repeated the name in a kind of desperation. Then, then, as the train started with a jerk and she tumbled into a seat, she said aloud,
without addressing anyone in particular. I wish to jump off at kiss cassette." "'Bless the child,' ejaculated an old lady in the seat before her. "'I guess this is her first journey.' And turning around, she stared mildly. "'Oh, ma'am,' said Tilda Jane, "'can't you help me get off at kiss cassette? The train goes so fast and I'm so little.'"
"'Bless the child,' said the old lady again. "'Of course I will. Conductor, this little girl wishes to get off at kiss cassette.'" "'All right,' said that official, hurrying by. "'This little girl wishes to get off at kiss cassette,' exclaimed the old lady once more, this time to a brake man. He nodded and passed on, and presently the conductor returned and said smartly,
"'Tickets!' "'I ain't got any,' replied Tilda Jane. "'Then you must buy one,' said the old lady. "'Have you got any money, my dear?' Tilda Jane had never thought of asking the conductor if he had not been informed of her mishap. She never dreamed that the pleasant-faced young man had forgotten to ask that she be carried back to the station for which she had bought her ticket. Therefore she drew her handkerchief
from her pocket, untied a knot in its corner, and slowly produced fifty cents. "'Is that all the money you've got?' asked the conductor briskly. "'Yes, sir. Where do you come from?' Tilda Jane preserved a discreet silence. "'Put it up,' he said, waving his hand toward the handkerchief and immediately going away. "'Oh, what a nice kind man,' said the old lady. "'He's going to let you ride free.'"
Tilda Jane breathed more freely and returned her handkerchief to its place. The conductor, meanwhile, had gone to a pull-man car in the rear where a man in plain clothes was lying back on a seat, apparently engaged in aimless, leisurely scrutiny of the occupants of the car. "'Jack,' said the conductor, "'there's a slip of a girl in a daycar. Poor clothes, shawl bundle, no money, won't tell me where she comes from. Making a great fuss about going to Kiskeset.
Looks like an immigrant.'" "'All right,' said Jack laconically. Then he gave an imperceptible nod toward the three of well-dressed young men engaged in card playing. "'Want to see me nab that New York jeweler's clerk?' "'Yup,' said the conductor. "'Got any telegrams in your pocket?' "'Two. Let me one and sit down here a minute.' Jack got up. The conductor took the vacated
seat and waited one, two, three minutes, and then Jack reappeared from between the curtains of the drawing room at the rear of the car. "'A telegram for H.G. Bowling broke,' he called in a loud voice. "'Any passenger of that name in this car?' The youngest of the three men playing cards and voluntarily raised his head, started from his seat, have extended his hand, then drew back. Jack tossed the telegram to the conductor and nodded to the young man. "'Thought you were
traveling under an assumed name, H.J. Bowlingbroke, alias Brixton. Have you got those diamonds in your pocket?' The young man flushed painfully while his fellow players threw down their cards and served him furiously. "'Trouble you to follow me to another car,' said Jack, and he led the way for the detected smuggler. Tilda Jane saw the two men pass and innocently stared at them, little dreaming that her turn was to come next. After a while, Jack reappeared and sat in his seat behind Tilda
Jane. After noticing the ineffectual attempts made by the old lady to draw the little girl into conversation, he leaned over and poured some candy into her lap from a bag he held in his hand. "'Have some, sissy?' She gratefully flashed him a glance over her shoulder. "'Thank you, sir.'" "'Going far?' he asked agreeably. "'To Kiskeset,' she said furiously. "'Will you tell me when we come to it?'
"'Certainly. Going to visit friends?' "'No, sir.' "'Oh, going home?' "'No, sir.' "'Your home isn't quite so near as Kiskeset?' "'No, sir.'" "'Did you bring that small dog across the ocean with you?' he asked, his keen eye noticing a stirring inside the bundle. "'No, sir. Where did you pick him up?' "'Some boys were going to drown him.' "'So you're a kind little girl.'
"'I ain't so good as I ought to be,' she said warmly. "'But I'm going to try to be better. Oh, sir, are we at Kiskeset yet?' "'No, this is Vansboro, a border station between Canada and the States. I guess you'd better come this way for Kiskeset, little girl.' "'Why, this train goes directly to Kiskeset?' interposed the old lady.
"'Yes, ma'am, but this little girl is a stopover, so probably go on the next train.' "'The old lady? You're suspicious.' "'You let that child alone, sir. Where's the conductor?' "'Conductor, I say. Come here. Can't someone get the conductor? Don't go with him one step, little girl.' "'Till the Jane, grown very pale, gazed apprehensively at the man
and did not offer to leave her seat. He threw back his coat and displayed a badge. "'Madam, I'm a government inspector.' "'A government inspector? What's that?' the old lady spluttered, eyeing him over her glasses. "'Well, madam, there ain't much time for explanation, but I can tell you this much, namely that we have to detain and examine all persons without means of livelihood
who attempt to enter the United States from foreign countries.' She still gazed at him suspiciously. "'I never heard of such a thing. I guess this is a free country.' "'Yes, ma'am, and the government wants to keep it free. If you get a lot of pauper foreigners here, it'll not be free long.' "'This little girl is American, ain't you, sissy?'
"'I'm an orphan,' said Tilda Jane, guardedly. Whatever happened, she was determined not to admit too much.' At this moment the conductor appeared, and the old lady hailed him indignantly. "'What does this mean, sir? This little girl offered to pay her passage. I saw her with my own eyes. Now you're going to put her off the train.'
"'It's all right, ma'am,' he said soothingly. "'She'll likely be allowed to go on tomorrow.' "'And you'll keep that innocent child here all day, and she too frightened to breathe,' cried the old lady. "'I never heard of such doings. All right, the president, I'll show you up in the papers.'
"'She'll be well taken care of, madam,' said the conductor. "'There's a good hotel here. All detained are lodged and fed at government expense. She'll be put in charge of a chambermaid.' "'You're a set of villains,' said the old lady, wrathfully. "'Oh, law,' groaned the conductor.
"'I'm sick of these fusses. Pick up her traps, Jack.' "'Come, little girl,' said Jack kindly, and Tilda Jane, seeing that the inevitable had once more overtaken her, rose residely. But the too kind and officious old lady clung to her so wildly that the two men were forced to draw her away from her.
Tilda Jane, in a state of complete bewilderment, totally unmixed with terror, for she had taken a liking to the kind face of her guide, trotted meekly after him into the shadow of a long V-shaped building. The platform was crowded with people. Two trains were standing at the station, and in a large dining room on her right she saw throng tables and hurrying waitresses.
She was ushered into a room where there was a handsomely dressed woman with a flushed face and tearful eyes, a dejected-looking boy and girl sitting very close to each other, a diminutive and poorly dressed German Jew, and a composed-looking man sitting behind a small table. "'I'll leave you here now,' said her guide. "'Don't be scared, but speak up.' And with a reassuring smile, he disappeared."
End of chapter 5, recording by Audrey Gicker
