Watch Yourself Go By

A >> Al. G. Field >> Watch Yourself Go By

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"Yes ye will. Let me tell ye, sonny, the minnet ye begin to feel yer
troubles at a end ye'll begin to look fer more en ye wouldn't be wuth
cracklins ef ye didn't. I wouldn't gin four cents fer a man thet didn't
git into truble; hit trys 'em out an' ye ken tell what they're made uf.
Look at all the men ye know who don't know enuf to make truble. What do
they amount to? Why they ain't got enuf grit in 'em to suck alum."

She continued:

"Onct thur wus a new preacher kum to a place to take charge of a church.
A member uf the church called tu pay his respeks an' afore he left he
said, confidential like: 'Parson, ye preach yer first sermon Sunday. Now
I want to tell ye this fer yer own good: We hev a good many members thet
plays ole sledge, ten cents a corner. Thar our best payin' members an' I
wouldn't, ef I wus ye, say anythin' 'bout card playin' in my fust
sermon, they mought think ye wus pussenal.' Another member called. After
talkin' 'bout the weather an' crops a bit, he sed: 'Several uf our best
payin' members sell whiskey wholesale, they're agin dram drinkin' but ef
ye preach agin whiskey right away it mought make 'em mad, so I wouldn't
say anythin' agin whiskey in yer fust sermun nex' Sunday.' The preacher
began to git a little shaky but he thanked the man. A little later
anuther member called. When 'bout tu leave he sed: 'Parson, ye preach
yer fust sermon Sunday; I want ye to start right. We hed a good many
dances through the winter, and our peepul is very fond uf dancin'.
Thur's two ur three big dances to kum off soon. These members thet dance
is all willun workers an' liberal givers; ef ye pitch into dancin' en
frolikin' in yer fust sermon hit's sure to raise a click in the church
thet'll be agin ye. Therefore I wouldn't mention anythin' 'bout dancin'
in my fust sermon ef I wus ye.' Soon another called. After he'd talked a
spell, he kum to the pint: 'Parson, we got some mighty fine hosses an'
most uf 'em belongs to the leadin' members uf yer church an' we has hoss
races an' we bets on 'em, an' ef ye preach 'bout anythin' uf thet kind
in yer fust sermon it'll hurt the hoss bizness an' put some uf the best
members uf the congregashun agin ye.' The preacher raised his hans in
holy horror, as he said: 'I can't preach agin the frivolities of
fashun, dancin' an' sich; I can't preach agin drunkenness; I can't
preach agin gamblin'. Fur heavin's sake, what kin I preach about?' 'I'll
tell ye,' volunteered the caller quickly, 'preach about the Jews, jes
gin 'em hell, thar's only one in town.'"

Lin concluded, "Maybe Uncle Tom figgered the same way on yer kase," and
she roared with laughter as she gave Alfred a playful push.

After the boasting Alfred had indulged in previous to going on tour with
Eli, he could not face his friends. He borrowed five dollars from Lin
and in a careless way, informed the family that the next day he would go
up to Uncle Jake's for a couple of weeks' visit. He packed up his
belongings, bade the family an affectionate good-bye and ran away, like
many another coward has done before and since. He was not in debt to any
extent, it was simply his vanity, a false pride that would not permit
him to face the little world in which he lived. Those who should have
advised him censured; those who had influence for good held aloof. He
went to a big city, to Pittsburg, to seek his fortune among strangers,
return rich, reward all who were kind to him and humble all who had lost
faith in him.

He went aboard the boat bound for Pittsburg. He slept soundly and was
only awakened by the clanging of bells and the blowing of whistles.
Peering out of the stateroom ventilator, his eyes met a sight such as he
had never witnessed before. Fire in long-tongued flashes blazed up a
hundred feet out of blackened chimneys, shadowy demons working over
fiery furnaces, boiling, white hot lava flowed in streams, the air was
filled with smoke and sparks.

Alfred imagined he had died in his sins and was now nearing the place of
eternal torment. He could liken the scene before him to nothing on
earth. It must be Hell, and he felt that the lid had been lifted for his
especial benefit.

There was a rap on his stateroom door and a voice called: "All out for
Pittsburg." Alfred hustled into his clothes and walked out in the cabin,
not desiring to leave the boat until after daylight. He inquired of the
clerk as to how long the boat would remain there. "We leave at eight
o'clock," replied the clerk.

"Eight o'clock what? Morning or night?" asked Alfred.

"Eight o'clock morning," replied the man.

"Why, when does it get daylight in Pittsburg?" inquired the bewildered
boy.

The clerk laughed as he answered, "Tomorrow, if the sun shines."

Alfred hastened ashore. The old National Hotel, Water and Smithfield
Streets, had sheltered him before. Therein he entered. Changing his
clothing he wandered forth aimlessly. He entered the Red Lion Hotel,
looked over the circus grounds and then to Ben Trimble's Theatre; from
there to the old Drury Theater, Wood and Fifth Avenue. He took in all
the sights of the big city.

Then he began to make plans as to the future. The hotel rate was one
dollar and a half a day. When Alfred settled, which he did at the end of
the first day, he had but thirty-five cents left. He left his baggage
with the hotel people and began a search for work.

Were you ever in a strange city, broke and without a friend, without the
price of a bed, without the price of a full meal? Did you ever feel the
loneliness, the forsakedness of this condition? You may say, "Well, I'd
get a job; I'd do anything; I'd dig ditches; I'd--" Well, they do not
dig ditches in winter, and when they do dig them you must have a vote
before you can get a job even at that labor and you cannot get a job at
any kind of laboring work unless your physique and clothes look the
part.

You say there's no excuse for any man being broke or out of a job these
times? Well, there may be no excuse that will satisfy you but there are
men in this condition all over this land--and good honest, willing men,
willing to do any kind of work to earn a living. When they apply to you
encourage them even though you do not hire them.

Alfred applied to a large concern that employed many men. He was told
there was nothing open. The wholesale drug stores were all supplied with
help. Another place had a sign out--"No help wanted." Alfred failed to
notice it as he entered. When he made his errand known the oily haired
youngster in the place impudently asked him if he could read, and
pointed to the sign.

At another place he felt sure he had landed when the boss told him they
wanted a married man and that he was too young looking. At the
headquarters of a great fraternal society, the principles and teachings
of which are mercy and charity toward all mankind, the officer or
secretary in charge was particularly unkind and actually spoke and
behaved towards the boy as though he had been guilty of some offense,
instead of seeking honest employment.

After walking more than four miles to a large factory, the head of which
stood high in the councils of one of the great political parties of the
day, one who had lately issued a statement to the country that the only
difficulty his firm was having was to secure men to do their work, he
met the great man coming from his office and appealed to him in person,
and was informed that they required no more men at that time, but
intimated that a factory in a city several hundred miles distant
required help. He did not mention that it required several dollars to
pay railroad fare to the town referred to.

His experience in seeking employment caused Alfred to resolve that no
man or woman, no weary soul, no matter what the conditions, applying to
him for employment or aid should be turned away without a word of
encouragement and advice. Some philosopher has likened kindness as
lighting a neighbor's candle by our own by which we impart something and
lose nothing. Try a little kindness upon the next applicant who calls
upon you.

Walking down Fifth Avenue Alfred read a sign hung on a door: "Wanted.
Two boys over fifteen years of age." It was the White House saloon.
Alfred walked in and asked for the position. He learned it was setting
up ten pins in a bowling alley. The proprietor, John O'Brien, was very
kindly spoken and, looking curiously at Alfred, he inquired: "How did
you come to ask for this job? You look too well groomed for such work?"

"Well, I'm broke and I've got to do something."

Alfred was given the job and started to work at once setting up the
pins. It was pay day in Pittsburg; the big, husky iron workers hurled
the balls down the alleys with such tremendous force that the pins were
scattered in every direction. At times the bowlers, in their haste and
excitement, would not wait for the pins to be set up before hurling the
balls and it required quick action on the part of Alfred to keep out of
harm's way.

Closing up time came and as the dollar and a half was passed to Alfred
he noticed that the game keeper was a brother of Eli's. Pulling his hat
over his eyes that he might not be recognized, the star of Eli's
minstrels fled the place.

The barkeeper at the National Hotel, Dick Cannon, had befriended Alfred
before. When he learned that Alfred was living on doughnuts and coffee
at the little stand in the market house, Cannon took him in and fed him
until he secured a position. It was through Cannon that Alfred finally
secured the position of night clerk in the hotel.

That a saloonkeeper and a bar-tender, the very people whom Alfred had
been so constantly warned against, should be the only ones who took an
interest in him when in distress, was most surprising to the boy. Surely
it was not from the fact that he patronized their establishments, as he
never entered the place of one and was in the house of the other for
only a few hours.

John W. Pittock, the founder of the _Pittsburg Leader_, was also
proprietor of a book store at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Smithfield
Street. The _Leader_ was the first paper, that the writer has knowledge
of, to print a sporting page. Pittsburgh, then as now, was strong for
athletic sports. Aquatic sports were the most popular; Jimmy Hamill, the
champion single sculler of the world, was at the zenith of his career.
The day following Alfred's experience in the ten pin alley the city was
all excitement over a sporting event. Alfred was sent to the _Leader_
office to procure a number of copies of the paper for numerous guests of
the hotel. The following Sunday morning Alfred sold over two hundred
copies of the paper.

The superintendent of the Smithfield Street bridge was a friend of
Alfred's father. He permitted the boy to establish a news-stand at the
end of the bridge. From 5 a. m. until noon hundreds of copies of the
_Leader_ were sold. With his wages from the hotel the minstrel was
making and saving money.

Alfred was homesick often but determined in his mind not to return to
Brownsville until he had a stated amount of money. The father wrote him
to return at once. Alfred replied that he had a good position but would
return by a certain date.

It was a holiday in the smokey city. Alfred cleaned up over forty
dollars on papers alone. That night he visited Brimstone Corner, a
Methodist Church. No man or boy who ever lived in Pittsburgh but
remembers its location. It was a revival; the church was packed, the
sermon eloquent and it made a deep impression upon Alfred.

The minister read the text as follows: "And he said, A certain man had
two sons; and the younger of them said to the father: 'Father, give me
the portion of goods that falleth to me.' And he divided unto him his
living. And not many days after the younger son gathered all together
and took his journey into a far country and there wasted his substance
with riotous living. And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty
famine in that land and he began to be in want. And he went and joined
himself to a citizen of that country and he sent him into his fields to
feed swine. And he would feign have filled his belly with the husks that
the swine did eat, and no man gave unto him. And when he came to
himself, he said: 'How many hired servants of my father have bread
enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger.' I will arise and go to
my father and will say unto him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven
and before thee and am no more worthy to be called thy son; make me as
one of thy hired servants.' And he arose and came to his father. But
when he was yet a great way off his father saw him and had compassion
and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him. And the son said unto him,
'Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy sight and am no more
worthy to be called thy son.' But the father said to his servants,
'Bring forth the best robe and put it on him and put a ring on his hand
and shoes on his feet; and bring hither the fatted calf and kill it and
let us eat and be merry. For this, my son, was dead and is alive again;
he was lost and is found.' And they began to be merry." The preacher
continued:

"Who can say what the causes that led to the young man's leaving the
luxurious home of his father to wander, an outcast, over the earth? The
vagaries of the human mind are beyond our understanding. The prodigal
son may have had illusions; he may have had ambitions. He may have been
induced by illusions born of ambitions to make something of himself
other than a plain farmer's boy. The dangers that lay along his pathway
were not known to him. That he fell in with evil associates and did not
have the will power to free himself from them is obvious.

"We cannot all live in one city; we cannot all live in one country or on
one farm. It is but natural that boys will stray away from the old
fireside. Read the history of this country; it was settled by hardy
yeomen, possessed of that desire for changed conditions. Look at the
great and growing West, settled by the descendants of those first
settlers of New England and Virginia.

"That boys leave home, as did the prodigal son; that boys fall from
grace, as did he who ate husks with the swine, should not shake our
faith in the future of a young man who has fallen by the wayside. He is
to be reclaimed, not by the mighty hand of the law, not by the
chastisement of the father, but by the love and pity that man should
exhibit not only for the good but for the lowest of God's creatures. We
should extend to them the helping hand; we should prove by our actions
that they have our love and pity.

"Pity is a mode, or a particular development, of benevolence. It is
sympathy for those who are weak and suffering. Hence, our compassion for
the erring one. We have affections for men who are good and noble, men
who are prosperous, strong and happy. But for those who have been beaten
down by the storms of life, for such we should feel that pity the father
displayed for the prodigal son.

"If those who have strayed and forgotten the father's advice and the
mother's prayers come to us, we should not receive them with reproaches
and rebuffs but with open arms; always remembering that the Father of
all has gladness for those who are glad and pity for those who are sad.

"When the erring one returned, envy filled the heart of one of the
family and he said to a brother of the prodigal: 'Thy brother is come
and thy father hath killed the fatted calf because he hath received him
safe and sound.' And the brother was angry and would not go in to the
feast. Therefore came his father out and entreated him to enter. And he
answering, said to his father: 'Lo, these many years do I serve thee,
neither transgressing at any time thy commandments and yet thou never
gavest me at any time a fatted kid that I might make merry with my
friends. But as soon as this, thy son, came, which has devoured thy
living, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.' And the father
answered, 'Wealth killeth the foolish man and envy slayeth the silly
one. There is not a just man upon earth that doeth good and sinneth not.
It is good for a man he beareth the yoke in youth.'

"It is sympathy in this world that must reclaim the fallen. It is
sympathy in the return of the erring that must reunite families and heal
the mother's sorrow for him who has wandered from the fireside and, like
the prodigal, returns to be elevated to a life that might been have
wasted had not the father's love prevailed to welcome his return.

"If this world is to be bettered, if the children of men are to be
uplifted, it must be by a love that is as strong as that of the father
for the son, the mother for her children.

"Young man, if you have wandered from home, if you have felt you were
abused, return to your family, start life over, reconcile yourself to
what you may have imagined were wrongs. If they have wronged you, their
love, won by your obedience, will atone for all. If you have wronged
anyone, make amends.

"Fathers, mothers, friends, stretch out your right hands for the
salvation and preservation of our young men, for in their hands lies the
greatness of the future."

The river was low, the boats were not running. The next morning a train
bore Alfred to Layton Station on the Youghiogheny. A stage coach landed
him at the door of his father's home in the middle of the afternoon.
There never before was the happiness in Alfred's heart that filled it on
his home coming. The father was proud of his boy, the mother overwhelmed
with her emotions. The children clung to him as though they feared he
would fly away from them. Lin baked and cooked as she never had before.

When it became known that Alfred had laid one hundred dollars in his
mother's hand and that he "hed plenty more," as Lin informed all, the
boy could feel a difference in the atmosphere when he mingled with the
people of the town.

Cousin Charley and Alfred hired a horse and buggy and drove out to
Merrittstown, passing the Thornton home, the old mill, the dam and the
home of the Youngs. The blind musicians were paid the five dollars yet
due with five dollars added for interest.

There was only one incident that marred the happy home-coming. Alfred
licked Morgan, Eli's agent. Eli was a very ill man; his excesses had
brought him near death's door. Alfred forgot the past and no more
attentive friend had Eli in his last illness.

The fight with Morgan was regrettable but, as Lin expressed it: "Hit let
the kat outen the bag an' klarified matters in general an' some mighty
big peepul tried to krawl into some mighty little holes, but they stuck
out wuss then ef they hed stood up an' sed, 'Well, we tuk Alfred's money
but we thought we wur right but we find we were wrong.'"

Of those who levied on the money at Redstone School-house, but one
returned the amount he had illegally received. Fred Chalfant, the
liveryman, was that man.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Forgot is the time when the clouds hid the sun.
And cold blasts the earth forced to shiver.
For such is the power of one warm spring day
From winter's whole spell to deliver.

Alfred was unconsciously broadening in his knowledge; life in its
various phases was unfolding to him, and he was profiting by his
experiences. His faults appeared very great to others, were only an
incentive to him. He had learned thus early that it was not the being
exempt from faults so much as to have the will power to overcome them.

In early life he had it very strongly impressed upon his mind that some
men were perfect, others hopelessly vile. Experience and observation
forced Alfred to the conclusion that none were so good but that some
thought them bad, and none so vile but that some thought them good.

We generally judge others as to their attitude towards us, agreeable or
otherwise. Our estimate of another depends greatly upon the manner in
which that person affects our interests. It is difficult to think well
or speak well of those by whom we are crossed or thwarted. But we are
ever ready to find excuses for the vices of those who are useful and
agreeable to us. Therefore, he is a mighty poor mortal who is not
something on his own account.

Alfred had graduated in that dear old school of experience, wherein
education costs more but lasts longer than that acquired in colleges,
that it is with the follies of the mind as with the weeds of a
field--those destroyed and consumed upon the place of their growth,
enrich and improve that place more than if none had ever grown there.

The boy had been so continually advised against evil associates that he
began taking a mental inventory of every stranger at first meeting.

Harrison was his estimate of the bad; Mr. Steele of the good.

Alfred had arrived at that stage where he not only stood aside and
watched himself go by, but he was also watching the other fellow go by.

He was out of newspaper business, out of the tannery, had abandoned the
practice of medicine. Charley's father, who was very strict with his
boys, advised the parent to "give Alfred more tether, not to stake him
down too close. Give him a little more rope, there's something in that
boy." All of which was communicated to Alfred by Cousin Charley, and
Uncle Bill was thus greatly elevated in Alfred's estimation.

Alfred's father was little short of a genius in a mechanical way; he had
a peculiar temperament, mild and easily influenced. He was a creditable
artist; many meritorious paintings from his brush in both oil and water
adorn the walls of the residences of his friends. He was greatly
interested in mechanical pursuits, particularly if of an artistic
character.

When Uncle Joe prepared to build a house, "Pap" made the plans; when
Sells Brothers built a tableau car or an animal van of an elaborate
character, "daddy" made the drawings; when Aunt Betsy desired patterns
to make a quilt to take the premium at the fair, "pap" made the drawings
or figures.

He became acquainted with an artist from Philadelphia and was completely
taken with the man's talents. The artist informed him in confidence that
he had expended the greater portion of his man life on a work of art
that would astonish the world, the father became even more interested in
him.

The father was the only person who had ever been permitted to look upon
the wonderful creation of his genius; yard after yard of art was unwound
for the admiration of the father. When he returned from his second visit
to the art gallery of the Philadelphia artist, he interested the family
greatly by his description of the wonderful scenes the painter had
wrought on the canvas.

The sufferings and privations endured by the man while creating his work
seemed to make as profound an impression upon the father as the painting
itself.

The father predicted that the talented painter would come into his own;
the painting would be exhibited all over the world, admiring throngs
would rush to see it to praise its incomparable beauties.

The father made weekly visits to the home of the great painter, he
desired frequent conferences with the father as he required his advice,
at least, he so stated.

After one of his frequent visits to the art studio the parent
inadvertently let fall the remark that the great painting was about
ready for exhibition but that the artist did not have money to complete
it. He also hinted that if Alfred were a boy of proper ambitions he
might become attached to the exhibition of the picture, but no,
"Alfred's ambition did not rise above saw-dust and burnt-cork."

These few words aroused Alfred's curiosity. By adroit questioning he
ascertained that the great work of art was a panorama illustrative of
"The Pilgrim's Progress," to be exhibited in churches, schools and such
places, at twenty-five cents for adults; children, half price.

The mother wondered that the artist did not exhibit his wonderful
painting in the art centers, Philadelphia, Boston, New York City,
instead of Butler, Pittsburg, Perryopolis and Muttontown. The father
explained that after the professor got the rollers to working smoothly
and the lecture down pat, he intended visiting Philadelphia, Boston and
New York.

Alfred began to realize that the picture was some sort of a show and he
marvelled that his father favored it. Lin said:

"So fur es I kin kalkerlate it es some sort of meetin' house show,
nuthin' but picturs. Hit may be good, but durned ef I ever got much
satisfaction out uf a cirkus lookin' at the picturs. But I s'pose peepul
will want to look at the feller thet made hit. They say thet he nurly
starved to death to git hit done. Ye know, they'll run to see him. Mor
en they will his pictur--I reckon he has long curley hair an black eyes,
they all has, them sufferin' fellers that due wunderful things."

Lin glancing mischievously at the mother in a tone she pretended to be
only for the mother's hearing but really delivered for Alfred's
annoyance. "Well, I hope he kums to Red Stun' Skule-house. It's whur all
the big shows gits thur start; they allus git a crowd, the skule
direkturs sees to thet an' ef they don't make muny, Sammy Steele'll hulp
'em out."

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