Читать книгу The Crystal Button - Chauncey Thomas - Страница 10

Table of Contents

"Well, as my name's Paul Prognosis, this is a pretty predicament for a respectable citizen of Boston to find himself in, tramping about the streets at day-dawn, and with nothing but a nightgown on. And cold-it is cold! I must get into one of these houses by some means. I wonder where my house is! And where am I?--that's a still more important question."

He looked about him in search of a doorway that might serve as a haven. To his surprise, he found himself standing in a public square, that was wholly unfamiliar to him, surrounded by buildings vast and magnificent. Everywhere novelty, everywhere order, everywhere beauty! Great structures on every side, aglow with the morning sunshine, appalled him by their majestic proportions; while unbroken vistas of wide avenues, opening up on every side, revealed the extent and grandeur of the city. With eyes of wonder he gazed upon colonnades, triumphal arches, monuments, towers, facades alive with sculptured decorations, and domes like cumulus clouds that wall the horizon. And in the centre of the square rose a white column that pierced the very zenith.

Such harmony and richness of color on every side--was mortal ever before permitted to gaze upon them! such elegance of form, yet apparently so substantial--such graceful and dreamlike proportions throughout all these vast architectural piles!

"This is all very well, but I must find a place where I can dress and warm myself."

Something warm touched his hand. He gave a spring to escape, but the warmth continued--it was the warmth of breath. He looked down, and gave a joyful cry. "Why, Smudge, old fellow! You are indeed a friend in need. You'll lead me home, won't you?"

But Smudge merely gazed up into his face, and made no movement to lead anywhere.

"I believe, Smudge, that you are lost too. We are both lost. Where have we been, and where have we now come to? Did I lead you, or did you lead me? In any case we're in trouble now together; and, whatever further happens, we must stand by one another. But this is certainly the most beautiful architectural display I ever saw. If this is Boston, then I'm no Bostonian. But where, then, can we have got to?"

He involuntarily glanced down to see if the street was paved with gold.

"No, this is not the new Jerusalem."

At this moment his attention was attracted by multitudes of oddly dressed people, who thronged the sidewalks, even brushing against him. Strangely enough, he had not before noticed them; and, still more strangely, his previous obliviousness to their presence did not excite his surprise. It was enough that they were there, and that some one would now be able to afford him shelter.

"But are they men and boys, or men, women, and boys? And if the latter, which are the boys and which the women? They all seem to be dressed very much alike. And how handsome they all are! This one must be a girl. Dear me, what a pretty face! But who ever saw such queer clothes? Yet they are as simple and becoming as they are queer."

These observations renewed the unpleasant remembrance that he himself was in undress uniform, and he gathered his gown about him, crouched within it, and withdrew to an archway.

"I wouldn't mind exchanging this costume for one just like theirs. What must these people think of me? I shall certainly be arrested if I don't succeed soon in finding my house, or somebody's house."

And he continued to creep along stealthily, vainly trying to hide himself in corners and doorways, while the blaze of day grew steadily brighter, and the populace passed to and fro in increasing numbers. Very strangely, however, no one gave the slightest attention to him. Indeed, they did not seem to notice him any more than if he were an impalpable spirit. But he knew they would, and a terror began to possess him that he would be stoned and beaten. Standing about in this way would never do. He began to run--to run wildly, Smudge bounding beside him, up and down unending streets and avenues, until the breath was well-nigh out of his body,--until a brazen gateway suddenly opened before him without effort on his part, and he darted through it, then up a broad winding staircase, through another open doorway, and found himself, with Smudge at his side, in the midst of a snug library, where the warmth of an open fire cheered his eyes, and where, face to face with him, sat an elderly man at a table littered with papers, occupied with inspecting what appeared to be a small coffee-mill.