"Why, blame me, if it ain't one of them British bowies--a Free-trade Brummagen. I reckon you can't carve anyone with a thing like this." He made a dig at the hand-rail with the point, and it actually curled up like the ring in a hog's snout. "You see, Jack, a knife like that is mean, unbecoming a gentleman, and a disgrace to a respectable boat." He pitched the British article into the river and went up into the saloon.
As Jack had not yet recovered his prestige, he went away, and returned with a dinner knife in one hand and a shingling hammer in the other. He waited for his adversary until the sun was low and the deck passengers were preparing their evening meal. Two of the Englishmen came along towards the stairs and ascended to the saloon. Presently they began to descend with their mate in the middle. Jack looked at them, and for some reason or other he did not want any more prestige. He sauntered away along the guard deck, and remained in retirement during the rest of the voyage. He was not, after all, a very desperate desperado.
During the next night our boat was racing with a rival craft, and one of her engines was damaged. She had then to hop on one leg, as it were, as far as Peoria. The Illinois river had here spread out into a broad lake; the bank was low, there were no buildings of any kind near the water; some of the passengers landed, and nobody came to offer them welcome.
I stood near an English immigrant who had just brought his luggage ashore, and was sitting on it with his wife and three children. They looked around at the low land and wide water, and became full of misery. The wife said:
"What are we boun' to do now, Samiul? Wheer are me and the childer to go in this miserable lookin' place?"
Samiul: "I'm sure, Betsy, I don't know. I've nobbut hafe a dollar left of o' my money. They said Peoria was a good place for us to stop at, but I don't see any signs o' farmin' about here, and if I go away to look for a job, where am I to put thee and the childer, and the luggage and the bedding?"
"Oh!" said Betsy, beginning to cry; "I'm sorry we ever left owd England. But thou would come, Samiul, thou knows, and this is the end on it. Here we are in this wild country without house or home, and wi' nothin' to eat. I allus thowt tha wor a fool, Samiul, and now I'm sure and sartin on it."
Samiul could not deny it. His spirit was completely broken; he hung down his head, and tears began to trickle down his eyes. The three children--two sturdy little boys and a fair-haired little girl-- seeing their dad and ma shedding tears, thought the whole world must be coming to an end, and they began howling out aloud without any reserve. It was the best thing they could have done, as it called public attention to their misery, and drew a crowd around them. A tall stranger came near looked at the group, and said:
"My good man, what in thunder are you crying for?"
"I was told Peoria was a good place for farmin'," Samuel said, "and now I don't know where to go, and I have got no money."