THAT MAN WITH THE LANTERN.

Dear sisters:--I am back in Washington. So is Cousin E. E. and Dempster, who has got a case before Congress; and when a man has that he just makes up his mind to take permanent lodgings in a sleeping-car, and make his home by daytime in a railroad section.

You never saw anything like the hurry in which such men live. As for the married ones, their wives scarcely see them at all unless they catch 'em flying with a railroad ticket in one hand, and a carpet-bag, swelled out like an apple-dumpling, in the other.

To us women this kind of life is tantalizing--very.

When Cousin D. came up from Wall Street, all in a fume, and says he: "Come, ladies, if you've a mind to go to Washington, just pack up and get your things," we both rushed into the street like crazy creatures, and came back with our pockets crammed, and our hands full of hair-pins, bits of ribbon, lengths of lace, and so on. These we huddled into our trunks the last thing, drew a deep breath, and said we're ready, half scared to death with fear that D. might cut short the hour he has been kind enough to give us, and start off alone--a thing he was just as like to do as not, being a man.

It's astonishing how much can really be done in an hour. When our time was up we had five minutes to spare, and sat with our satchels in our laps, waiting for Cousin D.

This time, being with E. E., I just said nothing, but let things drift, which, after all, is about the easiest way to get along. Instead of going in among the easy-chairs, as we did before, they took me into the sleeping-car, which is a great long affair, with what we call bunks, in our parts, made lengthwise on each side, with a narrow hall running between. The bunks had curtains, and looked ship-shape when they were once made up; but it was funny enough to see great tall men spreading sheets and patting down pillows for female women to sleep on.

Cousin E. E. and I had a little mahogany pen, with two bunks in it, which is considered extra genteel, and we went to bed, first one and then the other, not having room enough for more than one to undress at a time. When our clothes were hung up, and we inside the bunks, the pen was choke full, and off we rattled, with a jounce now and then that made you catch your breath. It was like sleeping in a cradle, with some great hard-footed nurse rocking you in a broken trot.

I had just begun to get to sleep, when what do you think happened?

The door was pushed open, and a man looked in. I started up, riled to the depths of my woman's soul. Never before, since I was a nursing baby, had any man looked on my face after it was laid on my pillow.

What did the creature mean?

I scrouched down in the bunk, pulling the sheet over my head, and peeped through an opening, half scared to death.

That man had a lantern in his hand, a dark lantern, with the fire all on one side. It glared into my bed like a wicked eye.

"What, oh, what _do_ you want?" says I. "Remember, we are two innocent females that seem to be unprotected, but we have a gentleman outside--a strong, tall, powerful man. Advance another step and I scream."

The man opened his mouth to speak; his one-eyed lantern glared upon me; he smiled as if overflowing with good intentions.

"Go away," says I, speaking in a tone of command from under the bedclothes, "or if it is my purse you want, take it; but take that evil eye from my countenance."

The man took the little pocket-book from my trembling hand; he opened it with cold-blooded slowness, took out a long strip of printed paper Cousin Dempster had told me to take care of, and tore it in two before my face. Then he put one of the pieces back, while I lay shaking and being shook till the teeth chattered in my head.

"Spare me," says I, with the plaintive wail of a heroine. "Take all I have, pocket-book and all, but, oh, spare me; spare me!"

He held my pocket-book towards me. I shivered, I shrunk; my hand crept forth like a poor timid mouse, and darted back again.

The man--this stealthy railway burglar--seemed touched with compa.s.sion.

My helpless innocence had evidently made an impression even on his hardened nature; he laid the pocket-book gently on the pillow, and modestly turned his one-eyed lantern away, pitying my confusion, and feeling, as any man with a heart in his bosom must, that I was scared out of a week's growth.

I breathed again. My heart swelled with thankfulness that a great danger was pa.s.sed. I pushed back the blankets, and looked out while a timid shudder crept over me.

The man was there yet, stooping down to Cousin E. E.'s bunk. I heard paper rustle. Had he spared me to rob her? Why didn't she scream? Why didn't she command the creature to leave her presence?

Robbery was nothing, but that cool way of breaking in upon two sleeping females had the ferocity of a wild beast in it. Was he killing my cousin--smothering her with pillows so that she could not scream out?

The thought drove me frantic. My arms were goose-pimpled like a grater.

"Why don't you order him out? Why don't you scream for Dempster?" says I, feeling a thrill of hysterics creeping over me. "If you don't, I must.

"All right," says the burglarious wretch, giving us the dark side of his lantern, and slamming the door. Then all was mournfully still. I half rose and leaned over my bunk, pale, breathless.

"Oh, cousin! speak to me if you are alive," I pleaded.

"What is it; what is the matter, Phmie?" says a sleepy voice from below.

"Ah, thank Heaven, you are alive!" I cried, a-clasping my hands in a sweet ecstasy of grat.i.tude. "Did he attempt to strangle you?"

"He. Who?"

"Why, that man. That prowling monster, with the one-eyed lantern!"

"Oh, he only wanted my ticket; he meant no harm," says she, more than half asleep.

I drew back into my bunk, and let her go to sleep. Ignorance _is_ bliss.

She felt safe, and I left her. Why should I disturb her innocent rest with the knowledge that a railroad she trusted in was infested through and through with brigandation. If she knew the truth, I was certain that E. E. would never be coaxed or reasoned into travelling again, so I determined to keep a still tongue, and never mention this attempt at burglary again to any human creature.

I have made up my mind to one thing, though. Phmie Frost will never travel again without a pistol under her pillow. What good object can any man have in smashing into the midnight dreams of two innocent females, and wanting to examine their pocket-books? I tremble to think what the feelings of the great Grand Duke would be if he had heard of the terrible danger I have been in.

Of course I never closed my eyes again till the long train of cars crept like a great trailing snake into the depot at Washington.

LI.

MRS. GRANT'S RECEPTION.

Sisters, Washington is splendid just now. In New York the winter seems to have frozen up all the sap in the trees; not a bud on the limbs, not a tinge of green even on the willows, which are the trees of all others that give out their greenness first in the spring, and keep it latest in the fall. The trees that grow in the Park were brown and naked when we left the city.

Here the buds are a-swelling. The willow-trees are feathered over with leaves as soft and pale as the down on a gosling's breast. The beech-trees are covered over with soft, downy buds, that float on the air like full-grown caterpillars. Even the ragged old b.u.t.ton-b.a.l.l.s are shooting out leaves like sixty, and the young trees at the Smithsonian Inst.i.tution, and the old ones below the Capitol of the nation, are bursting into greenness, while the gra.s.s seems to spring up fresh in your path as you walk along.

I declare it is a satisfaction to breathe the air which is kissing so many buds and flowers open; and I feel sort of guilty in doing it, when I know that the hollows around Sprucehill are choked up with dead leaves, if not with drifted snow, and it will be weeks yet before the maple-sap will take to running.

Nature is an inst.i.tution that I hope I shall always be fond of and appreciate; but men and women are, after all, the n.o.blest work of a beneficent Creator, and, from the delicate greenness and the soft airs of spring, I turn to them.

At two o'clock, yesterday, Mrs. President Grant had a grand reception at the White House. There hasn't been the ghost of one while Lent kept people down to a fish diet and morning meetings; but now, when the flowers of Easter-Sunday have all withered up, people begin to visit one another again, and this grand reception at the White House sort of opens the way and sets the fashions a-going once more.

Well, when the time came, Cousin E. E. and I were on hand. My pink silk dress was a little rumpled; but I shook it out and smoothed it down.

Cousin E. E. came out like a princess, in pale lilac-colored silk, with a whole snow-storm of lace crinkling over it. I declare, sisters, she looked fresh and sweet as the first lilac that blows! I was really proud to introduce her as my relation.

Cousin Dempster, having a claim, had to go to the Capitol; so E. E. and I went together--no gentlemen being absolutely necessary to a daytime reception, you know.

Well, we got out of the carriage as light and chipper as two birds. The driver held out his arm to keep our dresses from touching the wheel, as they streamed out after us; and I must say Vermont didn't suffer much as to ladies when we walked, with the slow dignity befitting persons with the eye of a State upon them, into the blue room, where Mrs. President Grant recepted. Well, I reckon the ladies were two to one against the men in that blue room, and it just looked lovely!

In the centre of the room stood the round, blue silk sofa, I have told you about, cut up into seats, and rising to a point in the middle, as if a silk funnel had been turned bottom-side up there. On the nozzle end of this point a great white flower-pot stood, a-running over with pink and white flowers, rising in great cl.u.s.ters one above another, till they brightened the whole room with a glow like early morning.