One day, while I was busily engaged in my daily toil, my attention became attracted to a big, fashionably dressed man, standing on the sidewalk near by, calmly smoking a high-priced cigar. He was apparently about thirty years of age, six feet tall, and weighed over two hundred pounds. He was beastly in appearance, and looked as if he considered his own selfish wants as the only things in the world worth attention. He probably had never done an honest day's labor in his life. A ragged old man, about sixty years of age, who apparently had given his whole life to productive toil, but now feeble and half-starved in appearance, approached and appealed to him for a few cents with which to buy something to eat. The big fellow roughly told him to go along and not bother him, and the old man, not doing as he was ordered, the young man deliberately swung his fist and struck the poor beggar between the eyes, knocking him senseless to the pavement. For a moment I was dumbfounded by this exhibition of brutality, and then instantly every drop of blood in my body was set boiling at the sight. I lost control of myself. My old-time pugnacious spirit asserted itself, and I sprang forward like a maddened bull, striking the brute a vicious blow upon the head with my fist, and sending him sprawling several feet away. As he scrambled to his feet, in a dazed condition, I rushed forward furiously, with the intention of felling him to the ground. After allowing him to regain his feet, I raised my arm to deal a well-directed blow with all my strength, when something within me suddenly cried out: "Don't strike." "Don't make a brute of yourself because the other did." "Let the law take its course." And, as I hesitated momentarily, there passed through my mind like an electric flash, these words:
"Always consult your soul for advice.
"Do no act your conscience will not sanction."
Then instantly recognizing the mandate I had so faithfully promised the great Sagewoman to obey, I overcame my rage and allowed my arms to fall to my sides without striking another blow.
Two policemen hurriedly approached the scene. I stated what had occurred and requested them to take the bully to jail. To my surprise, however, at the command of the well-dressed ruffian, who I afterward learned was a wealthy financier, both myself and the beggar were taken to the station-house. I was fined ten dollars, and the poor old man was sentenced to jail for thirty days.
While I knew that in this case the law of justice had been misapplied in favor of the cowardly Wretch with money, nevertheless I felt that I had gained incalculable strength in self-control by not acting contrary to the warning of my soul and making of myself the same kind of a brute as the one whom I had intended to injure.
Central Park is a tract of land situate in the middle of residential New York. It is oblong in shape, being two miles in length, half a mile in width and covering an area of about eight hundred and sixty acres. The ground has been artificially changed from a wild waste to one of the most beautiful spots to be found anywhere. It is coursed by a net-work of splendid drive-ways, equestrian roads and foot-paths running in all directions among the many little rocky hills and miniature lakes. Trees, flower-beds and shrubbery of various kinds have been cleverly arranged by skilled artists to form a delightfully picturesque effect. Chirping birds of many colors and tame squirrels in multitudinous numbers find this park a heavenly abiding place where the danger of annihilation is minimized. Playgrounds for the children are laid out in different parts of the domain while a zoological garden where animals are kept imprisoned in small cages for the term of their natural lives, is put forth as one of its many features.
As one passes through the entrance gate at Seventy-eighth street and Central Park West, and turns first to the right, then to the left, and finally to the right again, following a foot-path similar in its windings to a letter S, and crossing two small bridges, he will come to an abrupt ending of a narrow path running into an immense projecting rock. Here is located a canopied seat just large enough for two people. Facing this shelter is a small lake, on the edge of which overhanging trees afford delightful shade during the hot months. That was the place selected by Arletta for our meeting ground. It was an out-of-the-way, quiet and romantic spot where we spent many pleasant afternoons and evenings enjoying each other's company. Whenever Arletta wanted to see me she sent a note which never failed to bring me there. In fact, such a feeling of enchantment did the place hold for me, that many times I wandered out there and sat alone for hours, musing.
But notwithstanding that our many meetings had the effect of strengthening our mutual admiration and love for each other, and that I was beginning to fairly idolize this beautiful young woman, still certain things came to pass that I could not understand, and which caused me to feel that Arletta's actions were very mysterious, and that there was something about her life she was trying to withhold from me.