Dusty Books, Frontier Librarian

Chapter 12

Pleasant time on the train... Porters... Attractions of New York... An amusement... Meeting a new acquaintance... Books from the same reliable source... Remembering a friend, fondly... Getting transport organized...

The previous event was my only real excitement on the trip East. My animals were none the worse for wear. I boarded them at a good stable in Chicago, with instructions that were followed to the letter to pamper and fatten them up for the trip back.

I boarded the train in good spirits, since train travel is very much to my liking and very pleasant in comparison to the rigors of the trail. I vowed to travel exclusively by rail whenever possible, the way God must have intended the gentleman to travel in this manner, there is no doubt in my mind.

My bounty made the trip a bit more amenable, though there were no sleeping cars. It was quite comfortable, with a parlor car at the end of the train with overstuffed seats. I made conversation with many folks, and made a few friends along the way, mostly amongst the train crew, and quite a few passengers as well. I have always enjoyed meeting all types of people. The train is the Eastern way to do so.

Meals were very well prepared and moderately priced in comparison to the gold fields. I do I have been told have a problem with snoring, and as I sought rest most vigorously must have made a terrible noise. It must have been because I was a favorite I was allowed to continue, not even aware of the thunder I more than likely caused, particularly after a trencherman repast in the dining car. People have been shot for lot less in the West. I suppose the West is less genteel. The East has more thieves and many a thimble rigger, but they are more subtle in their approach and reproach.

There were several porters on the train who in conversation with me were shocked to learn from me that how many members of the Negro race were in the gold fields, including a compadre of mine called 'Black Dick', his given name being Richard Harley Stroud. He was a great man and a hero who drove for Wells Fargo, protecting the Gold payroll of the mines, guarding it with his life against seven desperate men, killing five before perishing just as help arrived. There is a fitting memorial in the Virginia City Cemetery and his burial site is a place of honor. He was also the best Othello I have ever had the pleasure of accompanying in performance.

While treating its Chinese deplorably, California and Nevada seemed not to be disturbed with the presence of colored folks in their midst. It is my supposition that each man is judged by his merit and not by his color, unless it is yellow, the Chinese being the most exploited in California. I disliked this prejudice from the start of my 49'er experience, resolving to treat all in the same manner. I believe it has caused me less grief than one who thinks others are inferior than (sic) he, and proves the opposite by his conduct.

One of the porters had a relative in Chicago presently looking to go west. This wild fellow had been in the Indian Territory and much to the scandal of the porter had acquired a squaw! I was given the address. I promised I would contact him, if he hadn't gone west by the time I got back. I thought he might be a worthy companion. I folded the paper and put it in my vest pocket, where it would reside for a time, I must admit, forgotten temporarily.

New York has its amenities. I do enjoy a bountiful table, and it was provided wherever I chose to go. Seems to me it is the type of place where if you have the money, New York will welcome you. I dined well and stayed for a brief night in a good Hotel, not palatial mind you, but clean and comfortable. New York is no more noisy than a 24 hour a day mining camp, in fact less so. I had been getting used to the prairie, and it's relative quiet, so for a short time I was annoyed with the bustle. But in the morning it was clear and quiet with an actual beauty, but not the same as I preferred. Civilization was fine to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here, if this was it. I had seen the docks and the areas where the poor had to live, and it was not pleasant to view or contemplate living there.

I went to a variety show the evening I arrived. It was quite lively and noisy with about 500 souls in a long thin theatre with a center aisle, with vendors plying their wares up and down, seemingly competing with the entertainment. It made me wonder if the purpose of the entire enterprize was commerce or entertainment. I suppose it was a mixture of both. I had popped corn, an ice cream like substance in a paper tube and several bags of candy and nuts, and several glasses of lemonade that was more 'ade' than lemon.

The audience did not seem to mind the vendors at all. They were very judgmental of the performers, however, tossing fruit and vegetables at the worst of the lot. Dancers had better luck avoiding the fruit as tossed, but made several spectacular spills slipping on the residue, which was accompanied by wild sarcastic noises and applause. This was not a legitimate theatre by any means, but it was fast and entertaining, with a great deal of participation by the audience. I actually at times didn't know which to watch, and even the speils of the hawkers was an interesting bit. I found all elements very amusing. This was not a saloon show. It was a largely family audience, with women with babies in the front rows, who sometimes had to protect their charges from flying fruit. There was no flesh peddling, or liquor either. But it did not detract from the show, it was just more refined than the rough hewn West. I had befriended a young fellow who was sitting in my row. He showed me how things worked, and explained a few things to me.

A very bad singer came on, and much of the audience left, my friend indicating it was a good time to depart. He said this fellow was hired because he was so bad that people would leave to make room for new people. I learned that this event started early in the morning and went until late at night, with the show repeating at least 8 times a day. He also mentioned to watch for pickpockets as we left the show, which is a form of thievery that takes your wallet or whatever else can be filched from you in direct fashion, a very light fingered bunch of thieves!

We decided to seek a little less family atmosphere, finding a saloon just down the block. We hoisted a few and traded a few stories. He was a cub reporter on one of the dailies, just learning his trade. I told him if his writing was as good as his stories, which often reflected on fat police, sneak thieves, and domestic murders, he would do fine in Virginia City on the Territorial Enterprise. His name was Roger Burdick, and he did make it to our neck of the woods, and we were known to have often hoisted a few together while he remained in our fair city.

The next morning I found my bookseller of 10 years or more before, Bernstein and Sons, still there and still doing business. I was treated as an honored client, even though it was some time ago that I made my purchases. This time I ended up with 12 barrels full. I told the elder Bernstein of my intention to order directly from him as soon as the railroad across the country was finished. He listened with great fascination at this, probably thinking me mad, until I actually made such an order about 8 years later, and he filled it. He shipped in crates then, since I was not there to purchase my accostomed barrels, but that was the only difference.

Bernstein and Sons, though I never met anyone other than the father (or was he perhaps the son?), always supplied merchandise of quality that endured the toughest test, a mining camp existence. I had had an easy time of it that day, my business being wrapped up in several hours. The next train was in the morning, and I booked passage for myself and my barrels with me. I didn't do a great deal on my last night in the city. I walked with the restlessness of one who was about to be leaving, coming to a dance that was quite exuberant, so much so that it had spilled out onto the avenue. I perceived some difference that I didn't catch at first, then realized that there were enough women! I did not dance due to my leg, which is a good excuse for one who would not dance, even if he were not hobbled by injury. It is a total lack of bodily rhythm. I can keep good time, but my body won't listen at all, obstinate old thing! I did linger a bit and enjoyed the flow around me, even entering the building and sitting a while as the dancers whirled in lively fashion.

When I returned to Chicago, I bought a daily paper and poured through the ads looking for leads to wagons and drivers. I had learned this from one of my regulars in Virginia City, a chap named Dennison. This fellow would read the daily paper from front to back, and it would never be the current days paper. I thought him a bit eccentric at first, since he never paid for his paper in this way, since it was an old one. He read a book now and again, so I didn't begrudge him reading something I would never have generated a fee on anyway. I supplied his daily paper willingly, and he would solemnly not read it until the next day!

I finally asked him about it, and he said with a cryptic smile that he read it in order to find something interesting now and again. He found opportunities for investment, that if unsold by the second day a better deal might be struck in a more distressed circumstance. He was admittedly an odd duck, but so have I been described by some, and so he was lent a sympathetic ear. He is in another part of this tale, a very interesting part to come.

I resolved to use this technique to find a traveling companion or a wagon or perhaps both. I found an intriguing advert that asked 'Going to California? Let's go together! See Johnson at the Hotel Madison.' Where had I heard that name? Then I remembered the address of the relative of the porter's. I checked my pocket and there was the paper. This was the same fellow, had to be. The name and Hotel matched, so I resolved to get myself over there and meet this fellow and in due course go with him back to Nevada.

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