Читать книгу The wanderings and fortunes of some German emigrants - Gerstäcker Friedrich - Страница 5

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Hotly and oppressively did the sun shine down upon the mirror-like surface of Staaten Island Bay, the next day, when the boat, containing the steerage passengers of the Hoffnung, reached the Quay at New York, and threw its ropes ashore. The sailors had not had time to make fast before a complete flood of persons pressed forward from every side from which it was possible to get upon deck, and crowded every corner and gangway of the vessel.

A great number of those who jumped on board to welcome the fresh-comers to their new home appeared to be actuated, not by curiosity only, but also by zeal to make themselves useful, and without looking round they seized upon boxes and chests, and seemed inclined to empty the whole vessel.

"Hallo there! where are you off to with that chest," cried the brewer, seizing at the same time the above-mentioned article of luggage with both hands, and dragging it from the shoulders of a sturdy negro, who was just about to step on shore with it.

The black, it is true, explained his intentions in few words, but as the brewer unfortunately could not understand a syllable of what he was saying, he merely shook his head, and carried back his chest to the remainder of his luggage. The same sort of thing occurred to all the rest, until at last the master of the boat interfered, drove the intruders back, and the few seamen on board, with the willing assistance of the Germans themselves, got the whole of the passengers' things on shore, and several of the emigrants kept watch by them. This last measure seemed a very necessary one, for, as carrion vultures surround a dying animal, so did carters, black and white, surround the piled-up boxes, impatiently waiting the moment when each of them might carry off his load.

Pastor Hehrmann, the elder Siebert, and Mr. Becher, now joined them, and after a hearty shaking of hands with their fellow travellers on the so longed-for terra firma, took counsel how best to lodge them properly, since they could not well all find room together in one tavern.

Many had brought with them the addresses of "good" German inns in New York, obtained through acquaintances or relations who had formerly sojourned at them, and found them comfortable. Others were directed to a so-called "German Boarding House" in Pearl Street, and a large number, including nearly all the Oldenburghers, determined to remain on the Quay, where they saw three German public-houses side by side, as well to have a view of the shipping as to save the money required for the removal of their luggage, which they at once got on their own shoulders, and carried across into the "Schweitzer's Heimat," (the Switzer's Home.)

Siebert advised them not to take up their quarters at these waterside public-houses, but they had made up their minds; they listened, it is true, patiently to his representations and arguments, but still went and did as they wished.

Mr. Siebert now exhorted each of them to be careful in noting accurately the number of the cart which carried his property, so that, in the event of their being separated from it, they might not lose their little all, and he then started, with a portion of his fellow travellers, towards the boarding-house, whilst several two-wheeled carts, with their baggage, accompanied them.

In less than two hours the whole company was scattered; and we will now follow the Oldenburghers for a moment, who, persecuted by the jokes and jeers of the carters plying on the quay, carried their heavy chests into the inn, in front of which hung a gaudy sign, intended to represent a Swiss landscape, with the subscription "Schweitzer's Heimat."

The landlord, who was a fat man, and who might have passed for a good-natured looking fellow, had it not been for a slight cast in his eye, met them at the door, and called to them, in a not-to-be-mistaken Swiss dialect, to carry their things up into the large saloon.

The thing was sooner said than done—for it was no easy matter to get the colossal boxes and chests up the narrow and steep staircase. However, they succeeded at last, and found themselves in a very large roomy apartment, which might claim the title of a "saloon," and contained about twenty double beds, while beside these, in two long rows, there stood a number of boxes and bags. Immediately afterwards, their host followed, and indicated a particular corner for their luggage.

"Are there more people to sleep here, then?" inquired one of the Oldenburghers, who began, perhaps, to think the thing rather uncomfortable.

"Yes," replied our host, "we are a little crowded for the moment, but to-morrow many of them are going away, and if you will only make yourselves comfortable for to-night, the matter can be arranged."

"And two have to sleep in one bed?" asked another.

"It might happen," replied the landlord, "that we might be compelled to accommodate three in some of them; it's only for one night, and you are not spoiled—on board ship, things are worse, I know;" he laughed, and descended the steep stairs.

"Yes, that's true enough—on board ship it's worse still. But upon my word, I don't see why on that account it should not be otherwise here in New York."

The others comforted him with "Well, it's for one night only!" and easily pacified, they walked down to the bar-room, where a kind of barman, half sailor, half waiter, stood behind a counter covered with unwashed glasses, and filled liquors for the guests out of pitchers and bottles.

Tobacco smoke and noise filled the room, and the sound of curses and laughter, of violence and hallooing, met them at their entrance. They called for a can of cider, it is true, in an unoccupied corner—but they did not feel at home or comfortable there, and determined, at last, to go and have a look at New York.

Meanwhile, Mr. Siebert had led his protegées to a somewhat more decent and better house; and the brewer, the little tailor, the shoemaker, and old Schmidt, the quondam ambassador to the committee, took a room together. But the shoemaker was in despair, for one of his chests, containing all the tools of his trade, and many other things, was nowhere to be found. He had last seen it upon the shoulders of a negro, who was walking behind the cart containing the other luggage, but distracted by the gaudily-ornamented shops, he had lost sight of the black suddenly, and neither him nor the chest did he ever see again.

All inquiry was in vain, and he was now convinced how much reason Mr. Siebert had to recommend particular attention to their property.

The others felt themselves the more comfortable, and the little tailor declared it was worth while to travel to America, if it were only to look at the streets and the people. Soon afterwards they were summoned to dinner, and in the large room of the house they found a long table spread, at which all of them, without distinction of rank, took their seats, and were allowed to torture their teeth with some very tough beef.

The dinner was not particularly good; but a glass of cider, which they got with it, consoled them, and a stroll through the town was agreed upon by all the Germans immediately after dinner. The shoemaker alone remained behind, in order to prepare a pot of his new expeditious blacking, with which he hoped to earn something, and to reimburse himself somewhat for the loss of his chest.

But what splendour, exceeding anything they had imagined, met their eyes in the broad and handsome streets which they wandered through; what gold, and silver, and costly stuffs, gleamed in all the windows and shops; they could not gaze enough, and stopped continually at newly-discovered beauties with fresh astonishment. But they were particularly delighted with the number of small two-wheeled trucks, drawn about the streets by men, full of the finest pine-apples, cocoanuts, and oranges; and no sooner did the brewer learn that a pine-apple (which, in Germany, as he had heard, would cost a couple of dollars) might be bought here for as many groats, than he bargained for a whole armfull; the others were not behindhand, and they filled the vacuum which the dinner had left in their stomachs with fruit.

The little tailor, on the other hand, could not get over his astonishment at the number of clothes'-shops, for in some streets every third house seemed to be a tailor's workshop; when stopping suddenly before one of these, as if petrified, he stared at a small shield, upon which there was this notice, both in English and German, "Five hundred Journeymen wanted."

"Hallo!" he cried, "that's what I call a master. But by this and by that, he must pay good wages, if he can employ so many people! Hark ye, I'll go in and try."

"What are you going to be at inside, then, Meier?" asked Schmidt, of the tailor; "haven't you engaged to go with us, and actually paid for your share of the new farm?"

"Oh, that be hanged!" said the tailor; "if I could get work at such a master's, I should be much better off."

"That don't signify," said the brewer; "your word is your word, and you must come with us! Who else is to sew all our clothes?"

"Well," said the tailor, "but if brilliant prospects should present themselves to me here, the Committee would surely allow me to accept them; for to remain all one's life a poor journeyman tailor——"

"All that don't matter," replied the brewer; "you've paid your deposit, and go you must! This was the object of having all the articles written down, in order that, afterwards, nobody might do as they pleased."

"At all events, I'll ask the question," cried the little fellow, quickly; "a question can't hurt, and perhaps it may be of use hereafter."

With these words he walked in, accompanied by the others, who were curious to see the interior of such a shop, and he was not a little astonished to find the master a German, and moreover an Israelite, who in very polite terms asked him what he wanted, and what articles he would allow him to show him?

"Oh!" said the little man, rather abashed; "I'm only a tailor—and—should like to inquire after work; you have given notice outside that five hundred——"

"Yes, that was three days ago," the clothes-dealer interrupted him, suddenly changing his tone altogether. "Since then, I've engaged four hundred and sixty—indeed, I should have liked to make up the five hundred, but as most of the work is already arranged, I could only pay the rest very small wages; besides, most of our summer clothing is made by sempstresses. However, you may work a week on trial. You're only just arrived, aint you?"

The tailor answered in the affirmative, wondering at the same time how the man could know this.

"Well, then," continued the other, "as I said, you may work a week on trial, and I'll pay your board—if we suit each other, at the end of the time, we can enter into an engagement."

"We'll consider it, meanwhile," said the brewer, going away, and dragging the little tailor, who offered little resistance, after him, by his coat tails, out of the shop.

"What a lot of clothes were hanging in there!" said Schmidt, when they got outside again.

"I wonder where he puts his four hundred and sixty journeymen to," said the little tailor, looking up towards the house; "that must be something like a workshop!"

"He's no fool," the brewer rejoined; "he wants to get you to work a week for nothing—a pretty arrangement, that!"

"But it may be the custom here, you know," said the tailor.

"Oh, I wish they may get it!" replied the brewer; "if that's the custom, I won't stay in America. But, hallo! if there aint the Oldenburghers coming along!"

It was them, in fact, who, like their fellow-travellers, staring into every shop, came up the street, and were not a little pleased to meet with their old acquaintances so suddenly. On board ship, they had almost ceased to look at each other, from anger and hatred; but here, in a foreign country, where everything met them coldly and indifferently, and everybody seemed to be only trying if they could squeeze money out of them in some way or other, their old quarrels had vanished, and they shook hands like brothers.

Of course, they continued their stroll together, and for several hours more traversed the principal streets of New York; but who shall describe their embarrassment when the setting sun reminded them of their return, and not one of them could find their way back, or had even any idea in which direction their several inns were situate.

They walked in vain, with quickened pace, through the straight streets, which all cross each other at right angles, no longer admiring the gaudy show of the wares exposed for sale—at last, not even honouring them with a glance.

Suddenly, they met a man who certainly must be a German: the long blue coat—the high-crowned and broad-brimmed hat—the short pipe—there could be no mistake. Schmidt accordingly walked confidently up to him, and taking off his hat, bade him good day, and inquired whether he had the honour to address a German. The man thus accosted, however, stared at him awhile, and seemed in doubt whether he should answer or not; at last, he drew a long whiff from his short pipe, stared at the Emigrants all round, one after the other, and answered, in a drawling tone—"Yes."

"Oh, then, perhaps you can tell us the way to Perl, or Pirl Street?" (for they had all, by this time, noticed the meaning of the English word, "Yes.")

"What number?" asked their countryman, who was sparing of words, looking this time upwards towards the roof of the houses.

What number!—oh, yes, there they all were, but not one could remember it. Schmidt owned this at last, and added—

"Well, the street can't be so very long; if we can only get to the one end of it—I know the house, if I see it again. Whereabouts is Pearl Street?"

"There—and there—and there!" said their friendly countryman, pointing up the broad street in which they were standing, then down again, and then to the left, towards a cross street; and, puffing another long cloud from his pipe, left the Germans looking at each other.

"There—and there—and there!" said the tailor, at last, after a pause. "Oh my! he must be making game of us—the street can't go all round about!"

But the street did go all round about—at least, it took a large curve, and the poor devils might have stood there a long time, without knowing what to do, had not a more obliging countryman of theirs at last assisted them, and put them on their road again.

The Committee, in the meanwhile, had made themselves pretty comfortable at the French tavern, in Hudson Street, whither several of the steerage passengers had followed them, and a large meeting was convened to be held there on the fourth day, in order to agree upon the next measures to be taken, and to determine what was to be done. In the interim, the elder Siebert had been busily engaged collecting more accurate information concerning the interior of the country, and the fittest place for a settlement, and had made the acquaintance of a certain Dr. Normann, who promised to lend him a helping hand, as he had already, according to his own account, been serviceable to many Germans in this particular, and they could trust him the more implicitly as he did not make a business of it, but merely did it out of friendship for his countrymen.

He accordingly accompanied Siebert to several vendors of land, and appeared at last, according to his statement, to have met with a particularly good thing for the emigrants. It was a piece of land in Tennessee, situate about thirty miles west of the lively little town of Jackson, where good water, a healthy locality, first-rate soil, and the neighbourhood of a navigable river, the Big Halchee, on which several mills were already erected, promised every possible advantage for settlement.

Pastor Hehrmann objected that they could not very well undertake such a long land journey, because they had so much luggage; but the provident Doctor had an answer ready to this—he assured them, that their destination being only about fifteen miles from the Mississippi, they would have to travel that short distance only by land, but that every other quarter mile of their journey might be passed by water, and that either in a ship by sea to New Orleans, and thence up the Mississippi River to the mouth of the Big Halchee, which was known to every captain, or by steamer or canal-boat to the Ohio, and then down that river into the Mississippi.

The latter route was determined upon unanimously by the Committee, for they would not expose themselves again to all the dangers and discomforts of a sea voyage; and the principal object of all only now remained to be fixed—viz., the price to be paid for the land. Here again there appeared to be no difficulty, for the terms were to be as follow:

The piece of ground[1] consisted of fifteen acres of cleared land, but which, certainly, had not been cultivated for five years past; but Herbold thought that the soil would only be the richer for that. These fifteen acres were surrounded by a fence ten rails high, (but which, probably, would require a little repair here and there,) and further, a curing-house, a small kitchen, a stable, and a small crib for Indian corn. All these edifices were detached—together with the absolute property in one hundred and sixty acres of land covered with splendid wood, which were to be sold at an average price of four dollars per acre, or six hundred and forty dollars cash for the whole, and the purchasers were to have a formal deed of conveyance.

The price seemed extraordinarily reasonable; for, although it is true that the so-called Congress-land, or the tract of country not yet occupied by individuals, and belonging to the government of the United States, is sold at the cheap price of a dollar and a quarter per acre, yet it does not consist of any portion of cleared land, nor of buildings, which undoubtedly must make a great difference. Dr. Normann affirmed besides, that it was always a good sign of the fertility of the soil of a tract of land, that people had formerly settled on it, for that the whole surrounding district was open to them, and of course they would not choose the worst. The committee comprehended these reasons completely, and determined to lay the plan before the next meeting, and make arrangements accordingly.

Young Werner had meanwhile settled himself in the same inn with the Hehrmanns, although he had hitherto formed no definite resolution as to his plans for the future. His heart urged him to remain with the Society, and Dr. Normann also strongly counselled this; but his former plans had been, first of all, to wait upon several merchants in Philadelphia and Boston, and to deliver his letters of introduction, in order to be enabled, under their guidance, easily and surely to begin some new occupation, in a country where he was a stranger. It was when things were in this position, on the second evening, and whilst he with Pastor Hehrmann and other guests were sitting smoking a cigar, in the street before the inn, that he made the acquaintance of a young man, a German by birth, who, coming from Kentucky, had traversed nearly all the northern states, and now visited New York city for the first time. He had been in America from his childhood, and knew the country thoroughly; but he shook his head doubtfully when he heard, in the course of conversation, of the agreement which all the Germans had mutually entered into, to found a settlement in common.

"My dear Mr. Hehrmann," said the young Kentuckian, "you must not be offended that a young man like myself should presume to offer you advice; but I have experience on my side. These settlements in common do no good, and you will live to see the result of yours. Somehow or other we Germans agree with difficulty (unless we absolutely must); and here, in America, there is no must in the case. The country is too large; the prospects and openings are too many and too various, and consequently societies generally dissolve themselves quickly, and for the most part in a very unpleasant manner; and besides," he continued, stepping closer, and in a suppressed voice, "I don't quite trust this Dr. Normann; I have an impression that I have met the man before somewhere, under no very honourable circumstances, but I can't exactly remember where, and therefore will not positively affirm it. However, be that as it may, take care, and pay particular attention that you have the so-called 'deed' or instrument conveying the right of property."

"But come, Mr. Werner," said he to the latter, "we'll take a walk down to the quay together; there are many things to be seen there which will interest you, and besides you don't know enough of New York yet." With these words, he took Werner's arm, and lounged down Hudson-street towards the Battery, and then to the left to the waterside, to the same spot where the steerage passengers of the Hoffnung had landed a day or two before.

As they were wandering along the narrow quay which separates the houses from the water, observing the arrival and departure of the shipping, they perceived an unusual crowd of people assembled in front of one of the German taverns which stand there side by side—in fact, before that very one where the Oldenburghers had put up. They walked forward to ascertain the cause.

Just as they had pressed on sufficiently to obtain a view of the entrance of the house, the door, which up to that time had been closed, was suddenly opened, and a man, who was received by the people outside with loud hurrahs, was violently ejected, and the door instantly closed behind him.

A thousand different witticisms and jeers welcomed him; but he appeared neither to hear nor to see what was passing around him, but only tried to get out of the crowd.

He was passing close to the two young men, when the Kentuckian laid his hand upon the man's shoulder, and exclaimed with surprise:

"Müller! where do you come from? and in this blackguard hole? I thought you were quiet and contented in Indiana."

"Oh, Mr. Helldorf, is that you?" replied the stranger. "Yes, bad enough to be here, and to go back thus; but the devil take this den of thieves—I've been cheated out of all that I could call mine."

"But how is that possible?" asked Werner.

"Possible!" said the other, laughing bitterly; "what is not possible in these German taverns in America? But come away from here; my blood boils, from merely breathing the air of the neighbourhood of this pestilent hole; come along, and I will relate to you my story, and that of thousands more, who have lost, and will lose, all they possess in the same way."

The three men walked some paces in silence, side by side, when the poor German thus began:—

"It is now two years since I landed here in a French ship from Havre; I had not a single acquaintance in all America, nor did I consider that I required one, but relied on my own strength and perseverance, for I was healthy and strong, and called about fifteen dollars in ready money, and a large chest full of linen and clothes, my own: what more did I want? I went, as being near the landing-place, into this godless house. Had I only kept my eyes open, the first view must have betrayed the character of the crib to me; but, as it was, I thought I could make shift in it; paid my two dollars and a half per week for board, and tried to find work. In vain did I run about daily; the times were bad; I could not speak English, and besides I would not undertake any kind of work that I did not thoroughly understand, and thus months passed by, during which the landlord, when I returned of an evening, unsuccessful, consoled me, and obliged me to drink, at which he was always ready to give me the benefit of his company. It is true that I was not then aware that, according to an American custom, I had to pay for both glasses, as well for that which he drank as for my own; or, rather, that he chalked it up.

"Ultimately, he got my last dollar, and I wanted to leave, with about fifty cents in my pocket, and go to work somewhere or other, if only for my board, but he still persuaded me to remain. He would arrange the matter, he said; something or other would turn up some of these days, and I was not to let my spirits droop; that I knew very well that I might have credit with him, and that I need have no anxiety about that. Fool that I was, I followed his advice.

"Thus a fortnight more passed away, and my debt to him, for board and drink, might perhaps amount to six dollars, when, one Saturday evening, he called me aside, and declared that he could not feed me for nothing any longer, and that I must look about for a lodging elsewhere. I then informed him of my total inability to pay, which, besides, he knew very well before, and offered him some of my shirts in lieu of payment; for I told him he need not suppose that I wanted to cheat him; he declined this, on the pretence that he could not mix himself up with barter of that kind; that he wanted money, and not linen, to pay for his liquors and his provisions; and that if I were not in a position to pay money then, I had better look about and see where I could earn some, and that, meanwhile, he should retain my chest as a security.

"I was quite content—for the things would have been an incumbrance to me in my wanderings—took, therefore, two shirts and a couple of pairs of socks out of my box, and wrapped them in a pocket handkerchief, and left the remainder, with the key, in his hands, with the request to have the things occasionally taken out and exposed to the air, to prevent them from rotting.

"I then left this place on foot, and, with a few cents in my pocket, made my way to Indiana, where, at last, I found work; and you know, Mr. Helldorf, how I worked there, in order to get my living honestly. When, at last, I had earned the necessary sum, beside enough to defray the journey, I came hither to redeem my box, for, meanwhile, my shirts were worn out. This morning I arrived, and went immediately to yonder rascal. Do you suppose that he knew me again? Do you suppose that he knew anything about a chest belonging to me? Confusion!—the fellow was wearing one of my own shirts at the very moment when he denied ever having seen them. I could contain myself no longer, but knocked him down; his accomplices, however, got hold of me, and turned me out of doors; and here I am again, with, the exception of a few dollars, and of much experience, as rich, or rather as poor, as before."

"But you will go to a lawyer, surely," said Werner, indignantly—"won't you? That must be the shortest way."

"Do you think so?" asked the German, looking sideways at him; "you have not been long in America, if you call that the shortest way; I should have costs to pay, and trouble and delay besides, and should never see an article of my linen either—that's lost; but Heaven have mercy on that rascal, if he ever crosses my path again."

"Never mind, Müller," said Helldorf, deprecatingly; "like thousands of others, you have paid dearly for your experience, and should rather feel obliged to the rogue, on that account, than otherwise; another time, keep a better look out; you know the American saying: 'No German can earn, or rather save, a cent in America until he has got rid of his last European penny.' You have now done with your European property: work hard, and you'll soon earn something again."

Müller shook his head; acknowledged, however, the truth of what he heard, and, after a little reflection, shook hands with Helldorf; bowed to Werner, and went up Broadway back into the town.

Young Helldorf related to his newly acquired friend many other things concerning the German inns, not only in New York, but throughout the whole United States, and which being, for the most part, established by people who are afraid of work, appear in no way to serve the convenience of travellers, but are merely money-boxes for their landlords, into which every passer-by may cast his mite, without receiving the least service, or even thanks in return. At last the two young people reached the boarding-house, in Hudson-street, and separated for the night.

The Committee had undoubtedly chosen one of the best, as well as one of the most reasonable inns in New York; nevertheless, all its members were compelled to submit to the custom prevailing throughout nearly all the United States—that two people should sleep in one bed—which is only tolerable when several friends are together; and highly repulsive when one is thrown among strangers. The Committee at first refused to comply with this custom on any condition, and M. Von Schwanthal said that it was opposed to all propriety and manners; but it was of no use, the house was pretty full, and though they might perhaps have had a bed each, they would have been obliged to make room in their beds for any stranger who might chance to arrive during the night. They chose the less disagreeable alternative of being among friends, at all events, and agreed, as well as they could, about their couches. Hehrmann's family took possession of a little room to themselves.

Meanwhile it fared dreadfully with the poor Oldenburghers, at the Switzer's home, where, with admirable stoicism, packed three and three in a bed, they exposed themselves to the attacks of innumerable squadrons of bugs. They had not even wherewithal to get a light, in order to see the extent of their misery. Grumbling and swearing, they lay till morning. Sleep was out of the question; and it was only towards the approach of dawn, when their tormentors withdrew, that, completely exhausted, they fell into an uneasy, unrefreshing sleep, out of which they were shortly awakened by the screeching voice of the maid, who called them to breakfast.

They reproached the landlord bitterly, and assured him that it was impossible that they could endure such another night. He, too, promised a change, and gave them his word that they should sleep more quietly next night; but, to their by no means agreeable surprise, they learned how he usually kept his word. They certainly lay somewhat more quietly, for they were so wearied that the exhausted body compelled sleep, but everything else remained as before; even their position, three in a bed, was not bettered.

They, therefore, came to the heroic resolution, on the ensuing morning, to shift their quarters, cost what it might; it cost, however, the amount of a week's board, which they had been obliged to pay in advance, and of which the landlord refused to return one cent; on the contrary, he abused them besides, and told them his opinion that his house was much too good for such peasant fellows as they. Notwithstanding, they carried out their determination, and aided by a carter (a German who had spoken to them in the street,) removed to the tavern of their fellow-travellers, the situation of which they had by this time discovered.

But they found these latter in no enviable condition, for the fruit, of which they had partaken so heartily, had made them all ill; and the poor little tailor was so bad that, as he said himself, "he could hardly support himself on his pins." Besides this, the brewer had met with a peculiar mishap, for when the alarm of fire arose, for the first time in the night, (which hitherto had been the case twice each night) he jumped in wild haste out of bed to the window half asleep, and upset over himself the whole pot full of the shoemaker's newly-discovered and prepared blacking, and at the same time was so ill and miserable that he would not suffer any of them to come near him to clean him; even the shoemaker was not permitted to scrape off the most of it, as he expressed himself. The brewer was obstinate, and insisted on dying in the blacking.

The Oldenburghers found room in this house; and if the bugs were pretty nearly as bad as at the waterside, still the whole place looked a little cleaner and more civilized, and they had to sleep only two in a bed. Besides, the sick soon recovered themselves, and as the day fixed for the consultation drew near, all who were to take part in it were well enough to give their attendance.

Mr. Siebert had fixed two o'clock in the afternoon for the meeting, and the four comrades, Schmidt, the brewer, the tailor, and the shoemaker, lounged off, down Pearl-street, immediately after dinner, in order not to be too late.

They had stood about before a great number of shops, now viewing the many curiously-bound books and coloured engravings, now admiring in astonishment the little shops of the money-changers, in whose windows lay long rows of bank-notes and scattered heaps of gold, and strange-looking silver coin; now staring after the gaudily-dressed negresses and mulatto women, who in their turn honoured the gaping party of "Dutchmen" with a broad grin; when the tailor suddenly called the attention of the rest to a sign opposite, which bore the picture of a small striped pig, over which was an inscription, "Entrance, 6¼ cents."

"What is to be seen there, then?" said Schmidt.

"Oh!" quoth the tailor, "don't you see, it's all over stripes; but it seems to me very small."

"Shall we go in?" asked the Brewer; "it only costs a sechser,"[2] (six cents.)

"Yes, the devil take the sechsers!" said the shoemaker, with an important shake of the head; "one of their sechsers is just as quickly spent as a sechser with us at home, and yet yonder it's only six pfennings, and here it's four-and-twenty! I won't go with you; I have too much need of my few kreutzers, for the brewer had the blacking that I hoped to earn a couple of dollars by."

"But, shoemaker," said the brewer, "don't be offended, but that was—very—well, I don't know how to express myself mildly enough—but very stupid of you, just when there was an alarm of fire to put your blacking in the window."

"Well; but how could I tell that there was going to be a fire?" asked the other, surprised.

"Well, perhaps not exactly; yet—never mind, shoemaker, that can be made up again, and the six cents can't cling to your heart now; so come along—we must have a look at this wonderful creature."

With these words he stepped forward, and immediately afterwards, accompanied by his companions, walked through a small glass door covered with a green curtain, into the house.

The interior of the narrow and low room which they now stepped into, by no means resembled a menagerie in other respects, for on the right hand stood a small table, like a bar-counter, covered with bottles and glasses, and several persons were seated, or lounged about the room, while, on the left-hand was fixed a square box with wire trellis-work, something like a rather massive bird-cage, and therein sat a little innocent pig, on which one might faintly recognise the wonderful stripes which passed across his body.

The four Germans paid their six cents and a quarter and viewed the pig. The shoemaker, however, shaking his head, thought it very hard that one should pay so much money to see a creature like that.

"And it has no stripes!" cried the tailor.

"Wait awhile," said a man standing behind the table, in German, but with a strange sounding foreign accent, "it will soon have some."

"Stripes!" said the brewer, surprised.

"Ahem!" nodded the stranger; "but wont you have something to drink?" he continued, getting out some glasses. "What do you take, brandy, whisky, cider, wine, beer."

"Beer! by all means," said the brewer.

"No," declared the shoemaker, "I won't have anything to drink—six cents for such a sight as that, and six more cents for a drink! No; to stand that I must have stolen my money, and found my box again!"

"The drinking costs thee no more," the barman declared.

"Why do you 'thee' and 'thou'[3] me, then?" asked the shoemaker, somewhat nettled.

"Thou speakest so prettily, how else shall I call thee?"

The shoemaker was about to make some angry reply, but the little tailor poked him in the ribs, and said, "Don't be a fool, but let him talk in his own fashion—he says the drinking is to cost nothing."

"Well, I don't care," said the shoemaker; "he might as well be a little more civil."

The men had just stepped up to the table, and had their beverages handed to them, when, to their inexpressible wonder, a tall man, with a light blue dress coat, of coarse cloth, with bright buttons, chicory-coloured trowsers, and a black hat, worn rather back on his head, holding a paint-pot in the left hand, and a long brush in his right, walked in and, without changing countenance in the least, or troubling himself about those around him, went up to the box where the bristly little prodigy was kept, took his brush between his teeth while he opened the lid, and then with bold strokes of the brush, but in perfect repose of mind, began to freshen up the rubbed off stripes of the grunting quadruped.

"I say," quoth the brewer, nudging the tailor, "look!—see, how he is manufacturing natural curiosities."

"Oh my!" exclaimed the little man in his turn, "and we must pay six cents for that!"

The men who were in the room laughed immoderately at the surprise of the Germans; and the barman observed to them, in perfect good faith, "There, you see, you've learnt something new again!"

But the shoemaker was indignant; he pulled his hat over his brows, and immediately forsook the house, accompanied by his companions, without bestowing another look at either the people or the lusus naturæ.

"I never—why that beats cockfighting!" cried the little tailor, when they were outside again. "I never heard of such a thing; why, those fellows have the impudence of the devil himself."

"Well, we shall do well in America, if this is to be taken as an omen," laughed Schmidt, "but I wonder that the police should suffer such a trick. Couldn't one inform against the fellow?—why, it's a—regular cheat."

"Yes, that would be a great deal of good," replied the tailor. "We dare not tell of it, for if we do, they'll only laugh at us, besides—— But, hallo, brewer! where are you off to?" he called after him, as that worthy, who had suddenly stopped, as if in reflection, now turned and ran quickly back—"have you forgotten anything?"

But he got no answer. The brewer ran, as fast as his legs would carry him, back to the drinking-shop which he had just left; but while they were yet gazing after him in wonder, he came back again, with a very cross face, and joined them. "What have you forgotten, then?" asked all of them at once.

"Oh!" replied the brewer, peevishly, "I was so taken aback by that precious pig, that I left my beer only half drunk out, and now they've poured it away, and grinned at me besides for coming back for it."

He fared no better with his companions; and laughing and talking over what had just occurred, stopping before every shop, they wandered slowly towards the place of meeting.

Business had not yet commenced, and the passengers of the "Hoffnung" were standing about in groups in the large dining-room of the tavern; the only strangers present were Dr. Normann and young Helldorf. But the little tailor could not contain himself any longer, and although the four companions in misfortune had come to the resolution to keep their adventure secret, still he related it to Pastor Hehrmann, who, with young Werner, Dr. Normann, and Mr. Helldorf, stood at one of the windows.

"My dear friend," the doctor said, in a very affable manner, by way of consolation, "you have by no means been cheated; that's a house where I am very well known, and where I often look in, for the people there keep the best of liquors."

"But, my good doctor," objected Pastor Hehrmann, "if they pretend to show a natural curiosity, and take money for it, that cannot be excused by any means."

"The thing has two sides," the doctor replied; "they take the money, it is true, but then they give their visitors something to drink in return. Did you not get what liquor you called for? Such was the case. Well, then, you had value for your six cents. The striped pig is only there in order to give the landlord the opportunity of selling his liquors without being compelled to pay the high tax which is levied upon all other drinking rooms. He is not forbidden—nobody can forbid him—from showing any natural wonder, or any creature indeed, were it even a common rat; and if he receives six cents for the view of his striped pig, and gives his visitors some liquor for nothing, why, he doesn't sell his brandy, and consequently need not pay for a licence for so doing."

"Well, that is a dodge," said the tailor.

"There are many other ways and means besides," the doctor continued, "to evade this law, which, strictly speaking, is by no means an unjust one, but is intended to prevent the too great increase of drinking-shops. For example, in Nassau-street, there is a man who keeps brandy and cigars—the cigars are very bad; however, he charges six cents a piece for them, and gives a drink into the bargain. In Boston, not long since, chemists only were permitted to retail spirituous liquors, but that did not prevent the publicans from doing so; they procured some large bottles, had them filled with blue and red coloured water, put a few glasses, with herbs and tea and such like cheap medicaments, in their bar-rooms, and in a few days there arose, I forget now how many hundred new chemists' shops. These are little advantages which every one endeavours to get in this country. The American motto is, 'Help thyself,' the how is a secondary consideration."

"Fine principles those for honest people!" observed Werner.

"But so it is," said the doctor; "you'll find that out soon enough. For example, you probably may have observed some clothes shops here and there, where five, or even six hundred hands are wanted."

"Oh, yes," cried the tailor, quickly; "we went into one of them this morning."

"Well?" asked Dr. Normann, "hadn't he already engaged four hundred and some odd?"

"About four hundred and sixty," the tailor interrupted him in astonishment.

"Well, then, four hundred and sixty," said the doctor, laughing. "So I suppose that, as he had nearly completed his number, he could only take you upon trial? I know—the usual pretence—not on account of the journeymen, but of the customers, who are to form a very grand idea of the shopkeeper's business; such a man has, perhaps, not more than six or seven hands at work for him in a little back room. Appearance is everything."

"No! is it possible!" exclaimed Meier.

"But, gentlemen," Mr. Becher now interrupted them, "suppose we now proceed to business? Dr. Normann, whom I hereby have the pleasure of introducing to all present, has been so good as to look about for a well-situated tract of land for us, and this meeting has been called to confer on the acceptance or rejection of this offer."

All held their peace, and surrounded Mr. Becher in attentive silence. He thus continued:—

"The land which Dr. Normann has recommended to us, lies in Tennessee, somewhat more than 200 German miles (1000 English) farther to the west; however, with the exception of some few miles, the entire distance may be passed by water. We obtain there, for the purpose of a beginning, 160 acres of good land, covered with wood, and, supplied with some, although inadequate, buildings. But, where timber is to be had in superfluity, and there are so many active and strong hands which can be put in motion, I should say, according to my view of the case, that the want of buildings is but a small drawback. Of these 160 acres, fifteen are completely cleared, rendered arable, and fenced in, and although they have been but little cropped, yet have been lying fallow again during five years past, and therefore, in this respect, are very promising.