The Jungle
huge carven bowl, with the glistening gleam of ferns and the red and
purple of rare orchids, glowing from a light hidden somewhere in their
midst.
“This’s the dinin’ room,” observed Master Freddie. “How you like it,
hey, ole sport?”
He always insisted on having an answer to his remarks, leaning over
Jurgis and smiling into his face. Jurgis liked it.
“Rummy ole place to feed in all ’lone, though,” was Freddie’s
comment—“rummy’s hell! Whuzya think, hey?” Then another idea occurred
to him and he went on, without waiting: “Maybe you never saw
anythin—hic—like this ’fore? Hey, ole chappie?”
“No,” said Jurgis.
“Come from country, maybe—hey?”
“Yes,” said Jurgis.
“Aha! I thosso! Lossa folks from country never saw such a place.
Guv’ner brings ’em—free show—hic—reg’lar circus! Go home tell folks
about it. Ole man Jones’s place—Jones the packer—beef-trust man. Made
it all out of hogs, too, damn ole scoundrel. Now we see where our
pennies go—rebates, an’ private car lines—hic—by Harry! Bully place,
though—worth seein’! Ever hear of Jones the packer, hey, ole chappie?”
Jurgis had started involuntarily; the other, whose sharp eyes missed
nothing, demanded: “Whuzzamatter, hey? Heard of him?”
And Jurgis managed to stammer out: “I have worked for him in the
yards.”
“What!” cried Master Freddie, with a yell. “_You!_ In the yards? Ho,
ho! Why, say, thass good! Shake hands on it, ole man—by Harry! Guv’ner
ought to be here—glad to see you. Great fren’s with the men,
guv’ner—labor an’ capital, commun’ty ’f int’rests, an’ all that—hic!
Funny things happen in this world, don’t they, ole man? Hamilton, lemme
interduce you—fren’ the family—ole fren’ the guv’ner’s—works in the
yards. Come to spend the night wiz me, Hamilton—have a hot time. Me
fren’, Mr.—whuzya name, ole chappie? Tell us your name.”
“Rudkus—Jurgis Rudkus.”
“My fren’, Mr. Rednose, Hamilton—shake han’s.”
The stately butler bowed his head, but made not a sound; and suddenly
Master Freddie pointed an eager finger at him. “I know whuzzamatter wiz
you, Hamilton—lay you a dollar I know! You think—hic—you think I’m
drunk! Hey, now?”
And the butler again bowed his head. “Yes, sir,” he said, at which
Master Freddie hung tightly upon Jurgis’s neck and went into a fit of
laughter. “Hamilton, you damn ole scoundrel,” he roared, “I’ll ’scharge
you for impudence, you see ’f I don’t! Ho, ho, ho! I’m drunk! Ho, ho!”
The two waited until his fit had spent itself, to see what new whim
would seize him. “Whatcha wanta do?” he queried suddenly. “Wanta see
the place, ole chappie? Wamme play the guv’ner—show you roun’? State
parlors—Looee Cans—Looee Sez—chairs cost three thousand apiece. Tea
room Maryanntnet—picture of shepherds dancing—Ruysdael—twenty-three
thousan’! Ballroom—balc’ny pillars—hic—imported—special
ship—sixty-eight thousan’! Ceilin’ painted in Rome—whuzzat feller’s
name, Hamilton—Mattatoni? Macaroni? Then this place—silver
bowl—Benvenuto Cellini—rummy ole Dago! An’ the organ—thirty thousan’
dollars, sir—starter up, Hamilton, let Mr. Rednose hear it. No—never
mind—clean forgot—says he’s hungry, Hamilton—less have some supper.
Only—hic—don’t less have it here—come up to my place, ole sport—nice
an’ cosy. This way—steady now, don’t slip on the floor. Hamilton, we’ll
have a cole spread, an’ some fizz—don’t leave out the fizz, by Harry.
We’ll have some of the eighteen-thirty Madeira. Hear me, sir?”
“Yes, sir,” said the butler, “but, Master Frederick, your father left
orders—”
And Master Frederick drew himself up to a stately height. “My father’s
orders were left to me—hic—an’ not to you,” he said. Then, clasping
Jurgis tightly by the neck, he staggered out of the room; on the way
another idea occurred to him, and he asked: “Any—hic—cable message for
me, Hamilton?”
“No, sir,” said the butler.
“Guv’ner must be travelin’. An’ how’s the twins, Hamilton?”
“They are doing well, sir.”
“Good!” said Master Freddie; and added fervently: “God bless ’em, the
little lambs!”
They went up the great staircase, one step at a time; at the top of it
there gleamed at them out of the shadows the figure of a nymph
crouching by a fountain, a figure ravishingly beautiful, the flesh warm
and glowing with the hues of life. Above was a huge court, with domed
roof, the various apartments opening into it. The butler had paused
below but a few minutes to give orders, and then followed them; now he
pressed a button, and the hall blazed with light. He opened a door
before them, and then pressed another button, as they staggered into
the apartment.
It was fitted up as a study. In the center was a mahogany table,
covered with books, and smokers’ implements; the walls were decorated
with college trophies and colors—flags, posters, photographs and
knickknacks—tennis rackets, canoe paddles, golf clubs, and polo sticks.
An enormous moose head, with horns six feet across, faced a buffalo
head on the opposite wall, while bear and tiger skins covered the
polished floor. There were lounging chairs and sofas, window seats
covered with soft cushions of fantastic designs; there was one corner
fitted in Persian fashion, with a huge canopy and a jeweled lamp
beneath. Beyond, a door opened upon a bedroom, and beyond that was a
swimming pool of the purest marble, that had cost about forty thousand
dollars.
Master Freddie stood for a moment or two, gazing about him; then out of
the next room a dog emerged, a monstrous bulldog, the most hideous
object that Jurgis had ever laid eyes upon. He yawned, opening a mouth
like a dragon’s; and he came toward the young man, wagging his tail.
“Hello, Dewey!” cried his master. “Been havin’ a snooze, ole boy? Well,
well—hello there, whuzzamatter?” (The dog was snarling at Jurgis.)
“Why, Dewey—this’ my fren’, Mr. Rednose—ole fren’ the guv’ner’s! Mr.
Rednose, Admiral Dewey; shake han’s—hic. Ain’t he a daisy, though—blue
ribbon at the New York show—eighty-five hundred at a clip! How’s that,
hey?”
The speaker sank into one of the big armchairs, and Admiral Dewey
crouched beneath it; he did not snarl again, but he never took his eyes
off Jurgis. He was perfectly sober, was the Admiral.
The butler had closed the door, and he stood by it, watching Jurgis
every second. Now there came footsteps outside, and, as he opened the
door a man in livery entered, carrying a folding table, and behind him
two men with covered trays. They stood like statues while the first
spread the table and set out the contents of the trays upon it. There
were cold pates, and thin slices of meat, tiny bread and butter
sandwiches with the crust cut off, a bowl of sliced peaches and cream
(in January), little fancy cakes, pink and green and yellow and white,
and half a dozen ice-cold bottles of wine.
“Thass the stuff for you!” cried Master Freddie, exultantly, as he
spied them. “Come ’long, ole chappie, move up.”
And he seated himself at the table; the waiter pulled a cork, and he
took the bottle and poured three glasses of its contents in succession
down his throat. Then he gave a long-drawn sigh, and cried again to
Jurgis to seat himself.
The butler held the chair at the opposite side of the table, and Jurgis
thought it was to keep him out of it; but finally he understand that it
was the other’s intention to put it under him, and so he sat down,
cautiously and mistrustingly. Master Freddie perceived that the
attendants embarrassed him, and he remarked with a nod to them, “You
may go.”
They went, all save the butler.
“You may go too, Hamilton,” he said.
“Master Frederick—” the man began.
“Go!” cried the youngster, angrily. “Damn you, don’t you hear me?”
The man went out and closed the door; Jurgis, who was as sharp as he,
observed that he took the key out of the lock, in order that he might
peer through the keyhole.
Master Frederick turned to the table again. “Now,” he said, “go for
it.”
Jurgis gazed at him doubtingly. “Eat!” cried the other. “Pile in, ole
chappie!”
“Don’t you want anything?” Jurgis asked.
“Ain’t hungry,” was the reply—“only thirsty. Kitty and me had some
candy—you go on.”
So Jurgis began, without further parley. He ate as with two shovels,
his fork in one hand and his knife in the other; when he once got
started his wolf-hunger got the better of him, and he did not stop for
breath until he had cleared every plate. “Gee whiz!” said the other,
who had been watching him in wonder.
Then he held Jurgis the bottle. “Lessee you drink now,” he said; and
Jurgis took the bottle and turned it up to his mouth, and a wonderfully
unearthly liquid ecstasy poured down his throat, tickling every nerve
of him, thrilling him with joy. He drank the very last drop of it, and
then he gave vent to a long-drawn “Ah!”
“Good stuff, hey?” said Freddie, sympathetically; he had leaned back in
the big chair, putting his arm behind his head and gazing at Jurgis.
And Jurgis gazed back at him. He was clad in spotless evening dress,
was Freddie, and looked very handsome—he was a beautiful boy, with
light golden hair and the head of an Antinous. He smiled at Jurgis
confidingly, and then started talking again, with his blissful
_insouciance_. This time he talked for ten minutes at a stretch, and in
the course of the speech he told Jurgis all of his family history. His
big brother Charlie was in love with the guileless maiden who played
the part of “Little Bright-Eyes” in “The Kaliph of Kamskatka.” He had
been on the verge of marrying her once, only “the guv’ner” had sworn to
disinherit him, and had presented him with a sum that would stagger the
imagination, and that had staggered the virtue of “Little Bright-Eyes.”
Now Charlie had got leave from college, and had gone away in his
automobile on the next best thing to a honeymoon. “The guv’ner” had
made threats to disinherit another of his children also, sister
Gwendolen, who had married an Italian marquis with a string of titles
and a dueling record. They lived in his chateau, or rather had, until
he had taken to firing the breakfast dishes at her; then she had cabled
for help, and the old gentleman had gone over to find out what were his
Grace’s terms. So they had left Freddie all alone, and he with less
than two thousand dollars in his pocket. Freddie was up in arms and
meant serious business, as they would find in the end—if there was no
other way of bringing them to terms he would have his “Kittens” wire
that she was about to marry him, and see what happened then.
So the cheerful youngster rattled on, until he was tired out. He smiled
his sweetest smile at Jurgis, and then he closed his eyes, sleepily.
Then he opened them again, and smiled once more, and finally closed
them and forgot to open them.
For several minutes Jurgis sat perfectly motionless, watching him, and
reveling in the strange sensation of the champagne. Once he stirred,
and the dog growled; after that he sat almost holding his breath—until
after a while the door of the room opened softly, and the butler came
in.
He walked toward Jurgis upon tiptoe, scowling at him; and Jurgis rose
up, and retreated, scowling back. So until he was against the wall, and
then the butler came close, and pointed toward the door. “Get out of
here!” he whispered.
Jurgis hesitated, giving a glance at Freddie, who was snoring softly.
“If you do, you son of a—” hissed the butler, “I’ll mash in your face
for you before you get out of here!”
And Jurgis wavered but an instant more. He saw “Admiral Dewey” coming
up behind the man and growling softly, to back up his threats. Then he
surrendered and started toward the door.
They went out without a sound, and down the great echoing staircase,
and through the dark hall. At the front door he paused, and the butler
strode close to him.