"We rarely appreciate anything that costs us nothing," I began my conclusion. "In New York, a show such as I have just provided would cost at least a dollar and a half for orchestra chairs and fifty cents for the family circle; this seems to be the family circle. Now, to save the bother of printing tickets and posters, we admitted you to the show without delaying you at the door in the frosty air, and one and all, old and young, must pay me five cents before you leave this room. The door is locked, and I hold the key. Those of you ladies who left your purses on the piano can borrow of your gentlemen friends, who, doubtless, will be ready to help you out of your dilemma. Some of you may demur, and complain of hard times, but said excuses will not hold with me; I carry hard times with me whither I go on my long journey, whereas you have yours only in one place. As soon as all have paid me, the door will be unlocked, and not until. I thank you for your unsolicited audience, and trust that the next time we meet the circumstances will be as happy for us all as they have been this January morning."
My speech must have been forceful, for the nickels poured into my hat. As each individual paid I motioned him or her to the opposite side of the room, to guard against humbugging. The landlord had to come to the financial relief of a few, but the door was opened in time for school, and everybody departed with evident good feeling.
My host was the most astonished of all, and, with a hearty grip of the hand, predicted that I would reach my destination. Without delay I settled my account with him, saddled Mac A'Rony, and with $2.80 to the good started for Auburn. The last denizen of the village to bid me God-speed was the philanthropist who unwittingly procured me my "bill" for the hotel show, and then filled my purse for me.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
Footpads fire upon us
An attempted assassination! I cried in excited tones. One of the boldest ever heard of, and right here, too, in the shadow of this palace devoted to commerce and peace.
Soon after reaching Auburn, I received a theatre manager who called to engage Mac and me to appear at the Opera House. We signed with him, and the first evening we made such a decided hit that we were engaged for a re-appearance; I received ten dollars for both performances and the privilege to sell photos at the door, which netted me a considerable sum.
Auburn is the seat of a State Prison and a Theological Seminary. Avoiding the former, I set out to visit the seminary. The students were cordial, and showed me about the buildings, among them being Willard Chapel, which they called the handsomest in America.
I was unable to leave until just before noon. Tramping without dinner went against the donkey's grain even more literally than it did mine. About 2 o'clock I was passing through Aurelius, when a farmer invited me to take lunch with him. I accepted, and enjoyed the repast and the visit with the hospitable agriculturist and his wife. He gave me a card to a California friend, and hoped I would visit him and present his regards. This pleasant delay upset my calculations; I did not reach Cayuga until dusk.
The lake was frozen, but the sun had somewhat melted the ice during the past two days. I was cautioned not to venture across with the donkey, for, if he should slip, both of us would go through the ice. This was a great disappointment, for it compelled me to follow the tow-path some five miles round the edge of the lake through the dreaded Montezuma Swamp, in order to reach Seneca Falls. It was long after dark when we left the swamp and entered the shadow of a rocky ridge. A half mile further, I discerned the distant electric lights of the town. To our left was the canal, and to the right, the rocky barrier, while ahead, beside the tow-path, shone an arc light suspended from one of several poles which extended in a line to town.