The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 2

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Robert Louis Stevenson. The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 2

THE AMATEUR EMIGRANT

PART I. FROM THE CLYDE TO SANDY HOOK THE AMATEUR EMIGRANT

THE SECOND CABIN

EARLY IMPRESSIONS

STEERAGE SCENES

STEERAGE TYPES

THE SICK MAN

THE STOWAWAYS

PERSONAL EXPERIENCE AND REVIEW

NEW YORK

PART II. ACROSS THE PLAINS

NOTES BY THE WAY TO COUNCIL BLUFFS

THE EMIGRANT TRAIN

THE PLAINS OF NEBRASKA

THE DESERT OF WYOMING

FELLOW PASSENGERS

DESPISED RACES

TO THE GOLDEN GATES

THE OLD AND NEW PACIFIC CAPITALS

I. MONTEREY

II. SAN FRANCISCO

THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS

THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS

IN THE VALLEY

I. CALISTOGA

II. THE PETRIFIED FOREST

III. NAPA WINE

IV. THE SCOT ABROAD

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL

I. TO INTRODUCE MR. KELMAR

II. FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF SILVERADO

III. THE RETURN

THE ACT OF SQUATTING

THE HUNTER’S FAMILY

THE SEA-FOGS

THE TOLL HOUSE

A STARRY DRIVE

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE

TOILS AND PLEASURES

“VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE” AND OTHER PAPERS DEDICATION

I “VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE”

I

II

III. ON FALLING IN LOVE

IV. TRUTH OF INTERCOURSE

II. CRABBED AGE AND YOUTH

III. AN APOLOGY FOR IDLERS

IV. ORDERED SOUTH

V. ÆS TRIPLEX

VI. EL DORADO

VII. THE ENGLISH ADMIRALS

VIII. SOME PORTRAITS BY RAEBURN

IX. CHILD’S PLAY

X. WALKING TOURS

XI. PAN’S PIPES

XII. A PLEA FOR GAS LAMPS

Отрывок из книги

Our friendship was not only founded before we were born by a community of blood, but is in itself near as old as my life. It began with our early ages, and, like a history, has been continued to the present time. Although we may not be old in the world, we are old to each other, having so long been intimates. We are now widely separated, a great sea and continent intervening; but memory, like care, mounts into iron ships and rides post behind the horseman. Neither time nor space nor enmity can conquer old affection; and as I dedicate these sketches, it is not to you only, but to all in the old country, that I send the greeting of my heart.

I was not, in truth, a steerage passenger. Although anxious to see the worst of emigrant life, I had some work to finish on the voyage, and was advised to go by the second cabin, where at least I should have a table at command. The advice was excellent; but to understand the choice, and what I gained, some outline of the internal disposition of the ship will first be necessary. In her very nose is Steerage No. 1, down two pair of stairs. A little abaft, another companion, labelled Steerage No. 2 and 3, gives admission to three galleries, two running forward towards steerage No. 1, and the third aft towards the engines. The starboard forward gallery is the second cabin. Away abaft the engines and below the officers’ cabins, to complete our survey of the vessel, there is yet a third nest of steerages, labelled 4 and 5. The second cabin, to return, is thus a modified oasis in the very heart of the steerages. Through the thin partition you can hear the steerage passengers being sick, the rattle of tin dishes as they sit at meals, the varied accents in which they converse, the crying of their children terrified by this new experience, or the clean flat smack of the parental hand in chastisement.

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At the foot of our own companion, just where I had found Blackwood, Jones and the bo’s’un were now engaged in talk. This last was a gruff, cruel-looking seaman, who must have passed near half a century upon the seas; square-headed, goat-bearded, with heavy blonde eyebrows, and an eye without radiance, but inflexibly steady and hard. I had not forgotten his rough speech; but I remembered also that he had helped us about the lantern; and now seeing him in conversation with Jones, and being choked with indignation, I proceeded to blow off my steam.

“Well,” said I, “I make you my compliments upon your steward,” and furiously narrated what had happened.

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