“Fifty cents! Keeps good time, too, see!”
The negro took the watch in his hand, and evidently it was the enormous size of it rather than its efficiency as a time-keeper that interested him, for he spent more time gazing on its back than he did in contemplating its works. He thrust his hand into his pockets and gave me a fifty-cent piece which, just then, looked as round and golden as a harvest moon, but more tangible.
I hurried from the negro as swiftly as I could in fear that he might repent and ask for a return of the precious coin. I hastened down a side street, made a spiral through a maze of streets, and then felt that the half dollar belonged to me. I next began a search for a pair of shoes. There were rows of them in a Jewish cobbler’s window, so I went in. The Jewish woman, who was in charge, in the absence of her husband, asked me what size I wanted, and then pulled out for my inspection a pair of iron-clads that would not have been amiss on the feet of Ulysses when he started out on his wearing travels, and they surely would have lasted him through all his strenuous adventures.
Say, How Much Yo’ Want fo’ dat Watch
“Fifty-four cents!” announced the woman.
I told her that I could not spend a cent more than fifty for foot-wear else I should have to go without supper, and that wet feet were more comfortable than an empty stomach.
We then entered upon an oriental haggling during which I found it imperative to credit myself with every virtue of honesty and candidness, and during which she called on every prophet to witness that the shoes should not go for a cent less than fifty-four. I held up my soggy tennis shoes and tapped them on the floor so that their miserable splash should strike a compassionate chill in her hard heart. I told her my lifetime’s history; gave her a most pathetic list of my adventures; descanted with fervor on the unkindness of men towards one who was trying to make his way, and then the shoes were mine!
I had to learn to walk over again when the dry shoes were on. I half stumbled at first with the weight, but I felt that at last I could go on the main street of the city and pass among respectable people without having harsh comments made.
After my three-cent supper, I hurried to a church where a prayer-meeting was in progress. After the meeting I made a confidant of the minister, who took me before a group of men; the total result of which was that they lent me ten dollars on a note which I later paid, or tried to pay, but they refused to accept the money and sent me back my note. A scalper’s ticket to New York City took nearly all of the ten dollars. I returned to the “hotel” where I sold my umbrella and out of the proceeds paid my room rent and bade good-bye to the men who lounged there. The New York train which I had to take did not leave Buffalo until two o’clock in the morning. As I went through the quiet streets, the scavengers were out, with bags on their shoulders, fingering the refuse barrels that lined the curbs in front of hotels and eating-houses. It was a glimpse of poverty that made me shudder, and which by comparison made me feel quite aristocratic.