A Little Girl of Long Ago; Or, Hannah Ann

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER II

  AN INTERVIEW WITH A TIGER

  There came to New York in May a menagerie. A chance like this roused thechildren to a pitch of the wildest enthusiasm. Wonderful posters wereput up. It was not considered a circus at all, but a moral andinstructive show, if it did not have delightful Artemas Ward toexpatiate upon it. There were a great many children who had never seenan elephant. Hanny Underhill had not.

  Jim said, "There was a live lion stuffed with straw; a zebra that hadfifty stripes from the tip of his nose to his tail, nary stripe alike; alaughing hyena of the desert, who could cry like a child when he washungry, and who devoured the people who came to his assistance, therebyshowing the total depravity of human nature; an elephant that coulddance; and monkeys who climbed the highest trees and swung in the gentlezephyrs by the tail." The crowning point was that he had money enoughsaved up to go.

  The celebrated lion-tamer, a Mr. Van Amburgh, was to perform with sometrained animals. Oh, what a crowd there was!--most people going earlyso they could walk around and view the animals in their cages. Therewere two beautiful striped hyenas, lithe as cats, and so restless youwere almost afraid they would find some loose bar and spring out at you.The two lions roared tremendously when disturbed. A great cage full ofthe funniest chattering monkeys, ready for nuts or cake or bits ofapples, and who could swing with their heads downward and turnastonishing somersaults. Many other curious animals that we see nowadaysin Central Park; but, alas! there was no Park then, and such indulgenceshad to be paid for.

  The big elephant was very gentle, or in a gentle mood, which answeredthe same purpose. The keeper had to have eyes everywhere to see that theboys did not torment him. How he could take a peanut or a bit of candyin his trunk, and carry it up to his mouth without dropping it, puzzledHanny. For of course all the First Street children went. Mr. Underhilland Margaret and Mrs. Dean were to keep them safe and in order.

  It seemed so hard to leave Daisy Jasper out. But her father could notgo, and her mother was much too timid.

  "I'll be her knight," said Doctor Joe. "I will take her up in the buggy,and we'll squeeze through the crowd."

  That settled it. Seeing real live animals was so different from thestuffed and moth-eaten ones at Barnum's.

  There was a great tent and some temporary sheds, with one or twoside-shows. They went quite early, and Doctor Joe paid a man to standguard over some seats while they walked around and inspected the cages.There was a smaller trick elephant, but even Columbus was not as big asthe famous Jumbo.

  One of the great pleasures or curiosities was a ride on his back in ahowdah. This was ten cents extra, and only for children. Most of theboys had spent their money for refreshments at the booths, so they couldonly look longingly. The little girls were afraid at first.

  "I am going," declared Charles Reed. "Oh, you will not be afraid!"--tothe Deans.

  "Don't you want to?" asked Mr. Underhill of his little girl.

  Hanny drew a long breath and her eyes dilated. The howdah filled up, andthe ponderous creature moved slowly down to the end of the space and upagain, amid childish exclamations and laughter.

  "Yes--I would like to go," said Hanny, when she realised the safety ofthe proceeding.

  "Oh, Doctor Joe, couldn't you help me up? It would be such a wonderfulthing to ride on an elephant that I should be glad all my life."

  Daisy Jasper looked so eager and pleading out of her beseeching blueeyes. So many pleasures must be foregone that he had not the heart todeny this.

  "Are you quite sure you will not be afraid up there?" he askedearnestly.

  "Oh, no, not with Hanny, dear Doctor Joe!"

  He looked at Hanny. The little girl could climb trees and walk out tothe ends of the limbs and jump; she had swung her arms and said one,two, three, and gone flying over the creek without falling in; she coulddo "vinegar" with a skipping rope; she could walk the edge of thecurb-stone without tilting over; she could swing ever so high and notwink; she wasn't afraid to go up stairs in the dark; but when theelephant took the first long, rocking step, she felt something as shehad when Luella Bounett had run downstairs with her in her arms. Shegrasped Daisy's hand on the one side and Charlie's arm on the other.

  "Oh, Hanny, you're not afraid?"

  "It's like being out at sea," and Daisy laughed.

  But the back of the huge creature seemed up so high and his steps solong. Then she summoned all her courage, and resolved that she would notbe a "little 'fraid cat."

  The keeper interspersed the rides with stories of elephants in Indiataking care of babies, fanning flies away from them, watching over sickmasters, and moving great timbers. Even if his eyes were small, he couldsee any danger. You could trust him when he was once your friend; but henever forgave an injury.

  The big india-rubber feet came down with scarcely a sound. He flappedhis ears lazily, he turned around without spilling them out, and marchedup the line as if it was just nothing at all.

  Daisy was thrilling with enjoyment. Her eyes shone and her cheeks werelike roses. She even put her hand on the elephant's crumply back, asthey came down the steps, and smiled in Doctor Joe's face, as he heldher by the arm.

  "You were so good to let me go. Thank you a thousand times. It was justsplendid!"

  They were all in a burst of enthusiasm with "ohs and ahs." But Hanny wasvery glad to get back to her father's protecting hand. She felt as ifshe had been on a long and perilous journey.

  They took their seats, and after one more caravan the performancesbegan. The trick elephant did several odd things rather clumsily. Thenhe stood on his head, and the boys clapped their hands with delight. Hetrumpeted, and the very ground seemed to shake. Then he looked around ina queer sort of fashion, as if he was sure he had frightened everybody.

  But what would they have said to the later acrobatic feats and goingthrough the figures of a quadrille! Half-a-dozen elephants would havestartled any audience.

  Presently a big cage was uncovered, and Mr. Van Amburgh went into thelions' den. Everybody shuddered a little. Hanny thought of the story ofDaniel--perhaps other people did. He shook hands and rubbed shoulderswith them; and they put their paws on his shoulders and shook theirshaggy heads.

  Charles said they ought to have finer bodies for such magnificent heads.

  Then the lion-tamer told them to lie down. He made a bed of one and apillow of the other, and threw himself upon them, hugging them up. Hemade them open their mouths, and he thrust in his hand. They pranced upand down, sprang over the stick he held in his hand, jumped over him;and it really seemed as if they had a tender regard for him. But DoctorJoe observed that he always faced them, and kept his eyes steadily uponthem. The applause was tremendous.

  Then an incident occurred that was not down in the programme. A handsometiger walked out from between two of the cages as if he had a part toplay. He scanned the audience in a deliberate manner; he gave his lithebody a twist, and switched his tail in a graceful fashion, while hisyellow eyes illumined the space about him. The attention of the audiencewas concentrated upon him, while he appeared to be considering what todo next.

  Two keepers came out, while a man in the space between the cages shooksomething in his hand. The tiger turned and followed him, and the menwatched until a bar snapped.

  Then one of them faced the audience.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "I wish to announce that there is notthe slightest danger. The tiger is securely caged. The animals are underperfect control."

  Two or three women screamed, and one fainted. Several hurried to theentrance; but the keeper begged them to be tranquil. There had not beenthe slightest danger.

  Doctor Joe motioned to his party to remain seated while he went toattend to the women. The performance was mostly over, and the audiencebegan to disperse, from a sense of insecurity.

  "Was he really loose?" asked Tudie Dean, in a little fright.

  "Of course he was," replied Charles. "I'm not sure but it was donepurposely after all."
r />   Doctor Joe returned, and they appealed to him.

  "Well,"--with a gay air,--"the tiger was quite obedient, wasn't he? Youwere not frightened, Daisy?"

  "But you stood right there,"--Doctor Joe had given his seat to a ladyjust as the performance began. "Why, he looked at you," and Daisy'snerves gave a little quiver.

  "I supposed Mr. Van Amburgh would come and put him through some paces,"returned Joe.

  "It was immense, wasn't it?" exclaimed Jim. "But why did the womansqueal when it was all over?"

  Doctor Joe laughed.

  To make amends, a pretty trick pony came out, who really could dance,and he looked as if he laughed, too. He did a number of amusing things,and the audience stopped going out. Then the monkeys set up such ashrill chatter that the people began to laugh. The lion started to roar;and it seemed as if the tigers joined the chorus. For a few moments itwas a forest concert.

  "If only the hyena would laugh," said Jim. The girls were a littlenervous. Joe had gone to get Prince. "Oh, you needn't be a mite afraid.Mr. Van Amburgh would just have thrown a cloth over his head; and in hissurprise they would have had him all right in a moment. I would not havemissed it for a dollar; though I wouldn't care to encounter him in hisnative wilds."

  "He did look grand surveying the audience," said Daisy. "I am so glad Icould come--for everything."

  The Doctor put Hanny and Daisy in the buggy, as they were both so slim.Hanny hugged his arm, and said in a voice still a trifle shaky,--

  "Weren't you the least bit frightened, Joe?"

  "Why, I never imagined there was any danger until it was over. I thinkso many people rather dazed Mr. Tiger."

  "Oh, if anything had happened to you, what should I do?" asked Daisy,with lustrous eyes.

  "Nothing is going to happen to me. You have been a brave girl thisafternoon, and it is not the first time either."

  Her cheek flushed with pleasure.

  It was a great thing to talk over, that and the ride on the elephant.Hanny found her natural history, and she and her father read aboutelephants most of the evening.

  The days were so pleasant that the children often took Daisy out in herchair to see them at their plays. They went around to Houston Street, tothe German settlement, as it was beginning to be called. Lena andGretchen were out on their stoop with their knitting, and the babybetween them. They were Lutherans, and they looked quite different fromthe Jews.

  There were still quaint old houses in Ludlow and Orchard streets,--twostories with dormer windows in the roof, and some frame cottages withstruggling grass-plots. No one dreamed of the tall tenements that wereto take their places, the sewing-machines that were to hum while theworkers earned their scanty pittance, and swarms of children crowded thestreets.

  Everybody had more leisure then. Some of the women sat and chatted whiletheir little ones played about.

  A little girl came out of an alley way with a peculiar jerky movement,like a hop and a skip, while she kept one hand on her knee. Her hip waslarge, her shoulder pushed up and apparently bent over.

  "Hello!" she said to Hanny. "What's the matter with her?" nodding herhead. "Wish't I had a cheer like that. I'd cut a great swell. My! ain'tshe pritty?"

  "She's been ill," returned Hanny.

  The child stared a moment and then hopped on.

  "Her father works about the stable," explained Hanny, with risingcolour. "She comes up sometimes. They're very poor. Mother gives themever so many things. She can't stand up straight; but she doesn't seemto mind. And one leg is so much shorter. The boys call her Cricket, andLimpy Dick."

  "Oh, Hanny, if I were poor and like that!" The tears came in Daisy'seyes. "I can stand up straight, and I am getting to walk quite well. Ihave so much that is lovely and comforting; and oughtn't one be thankfulnot to be real poor?"

  The little lameter went hopping across the street, and called to somechildren "to look at the style!"

  Down by the corner there was a candy and notion store, kept by an oldwoman with a queer wrinkled face framed in with a wide cap-ruffle. Shehad a funny turned-up nose, as if it had hardly known which way to grow,and such round red-apple cheeks. When it was pleasant, she sat in thedoorway, regardless of the fate of the heroic young woman of Norway.

  "Good day!" she ejaculated. "The Lord bless ye. Yon's got a pretty face,an' I hope it will bring her good fortune." She nodded, and hercap-ruffle flapped over her face.

  "If ye see that omadhawn of a Biddy Brady in yer travels, jist send herhome. The babby's screamin' himself into fits. Won't her mother give itto her whin she comes in!"

  Down below the next corner, there was a throng of children. One big boywas whistling a jig tune, and clapping on his knee.

  "That's old Mrs. McGiven," explained Hanny. "The school-children gothere for cake and candy and slate pencils, because hers have such nicesharp points. And--Biddy Brady!"

  Jim was with the boys. He gave Hanny a nod and laughed and joined thewhistling.

  "Oh, Jim--Biddy's baby is crying--"

  "Come, start up again, Biddy. You haven't given us half a cent's worth!You don't dance as good as the little Jew girl on the next block."

  "Arrah now--"

  "Go on wid yer dancin'."

  Biddy was a thin, lanky girl with straight dark hair that hung in hereyes and over her shoulders. A faded checked pinafore, with just plainarm-holes, covered her nearly all up. To her spindle legs were attachedmismatched shoes, twice too large, tied around the ankles. One had aloose sole that flapped up and down. It really wasn't any dancing, forshe just kicked out one foot and then the other, with such vigor thatyou wondered she didn't go over backward. Her very earnestness renderedit irresistibly funny. She certainly danced by main strength.

  Hanny began again. "Jim, her baby is crying--"

  "He gets his living by crying. I've never heard of his doing anythingelse."

  Biddy brought her foot down with an emphatic thump.

  "There now, not another step do yees get out o' me fur that cint. I'vegive ye good measure and fancy steps throwed in. An' me shoe is dancedoff me fut, an' me mammy'll lick me. See that now!" and she held up herflapping sole.

  They had to yield to necessity, for none of the crowd had another penny.When Biddy realised the fact, she ran off home and bought a stick ofcandy to solace herself and the baby. Mrs. Brady went out washing, andBiddy cared for the baby when she wasn't in the street. It must beadmitted the babies languished under her care.

  The school-children had a good deal of fun hiring her to dance. Biddywas shrewd enough about the pennies.

  Jim joined the cavalcade as the boys went their way.

  "Why, she likes the money," he said in answer to an upbraiding remarkfrom Hanny. "That's what she does it for."

  "It was very funny," declared Daisy. "She's such a straight, slim childin that long narrow apron. If it hadn't been for the baby, I would havegiven her a penny."

  They went on down the street. There were several fancy-goods stores andsome pretty black-eyed Jewish children with the curliest hairimaginable. There was the big school across the way, and a great lockfactory, then a row of comparatively nice dwellings. They turned intoAvenue A., and were in a crowd of Germans. The children and babies allhad flaxen or yellow hair and roundish blue eyes. The mothers wereknitting and sewing and chattering in their queer language. Even thelittle girls were knitting lace and stockings. The boys seemed fat andpudgy. They stared at the chair and its inmate, but Sam went quietlyalong. Here were German costumes sure enough.

  They turned up Second Street, and so around First Avenue, home.

  "Why, it's like going to foreign countries," Daisy said. "Some of thechildren were very pretty. But that Biddy Brady--I can see her yet."

  The very next day Daisy drew two pictures, and held them before Hanny.

  "Why, that's Biddy Brady!" the little girl said, with a bright wonderinglaugh. "And that's old Mrs. McGiven! They're splendid! How could you doit?"

  "I don't know. It came to me."

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sp; Mrs. Craven said the old lady was excellent. And she laughed about BiddyBrady's dancing.

  Sometimes they went up to Tompkins' Square. They would study theirlessons or do a bit of crocheting. Daisy was learning a great manythings. Or they went a little farther up and over to the river, whichwas much wider at that time. The old farms had been cut up into blocks;but while they were waiting for some one to come along and build themup, the thrifty Germans had turned them into market gardens, and theypresented a very pretty appearance.

  They could see the small clusters of houses on Long Island, and the endof Blackwell's Island,--a terrible place to them. The boys had seen the"Black Maria," which the little girl thought must be some formidablegiant negress capable of driving the criminals along as one would aflock of sheep, and she was quite surprised when she learned it was awagon merely. The East River was quite pretty up here, and theferry-boats made a line of foam that sparkled in the sun.

  Occasionally Doctor Joe joined the party, and took them in otherdirections. He had accepted the offer of an old physician on EastBroadway, which was then considered very aristocratic. The basementwindows had pretty lace curtains, and the dining-rooms had beaufets inthe corners, on which the glass and silver were arranged. The brassdoorknobs and the name-plate shone like gold, and the iron railings ofthe stoops were finished with quite pretentious newels, that thechildren called sentry boxes.

  Grand Street, at the eastern end, had many private dwellings. Ridge andPitt and Willet streets were quite steep and made splendid coastingplaces in winter. There was the Methodist church, in which many famousworthies had preached, and even at the end of the century the old placekeeps its brave and undaunted front.

  Strawberries did not come until June; and the girls took them round thestreets in tiny deep baskets. There were no such mammoth berries as wehave now; but, oh, how sweet and luscious they were! Little girlscarried baskets of radishes from door to door, and first you heard"strawbrees," then something that sounded like "ask arishee," which Isuppose was brief for "ask any radishes."

  The fish and clam men were a great delight to the children. One curious,weather-beaten old fellow who went through First Street had quite amusical horn, and a regular song.

  "Fine clams, fine clams, fine clams, to-day, That have just arrived from Rockaway. They're good to boil, and they're good to fry, And they're good to make a clam pot-pie. My horse is hired, and my waggon isn't mine. Look out, little boys, don't cut behind!"

  Where the rhyme was lame, he made up with an extra flourish and trill tothe notes. The cats used to watch out for him. They seemed to know whenFriday came, and they would be sitting on the front stoops, dozing untilthey heard the welcome sound of the horn. There were huckster waggonswith vegetables, and a buttermilk man.

  An old coloured woman used to come round with brewer's yeast, and onemorning she had a great piece of black cambric twisted about her bonnet.

  "Who are you in mourning for, auntie?" asked Margaret.

  "My ol' man, Miss Margret. Happened so lucky! He jest died Sat'daynight, an' we buried him on Sunday, an' here I am goin' round onMonday,--not losin' any time. Happened so lucky!"

  Jim went into spasms of merriment over the economy of the incident.