Cæsar's Column: A Story of the Twentieth Century
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neighbors, of the shop-keepers, the police, etc.,and this is what he had found out:
"There was no person in the building of the name of 'Carson,' but inthe garret I had described a man resided named 'Carl Jansen,' a Swedeby birth, a blacksmith by trade, and a very honest, worthy man andgood workman, but excessively poor. He had lived for some years inNew York; he had a large family of children; his wife took inwashing, and thus helped to fill the many greedy little mouths; theoldest girl was named Christina; she was seventeen years of age; shehad attended the public schools, and of late years had worked atembroidery, her earnings going into the common stock. She was a good,amiable girl, and highly spoken of by every one who knew her. She hadattended Sunday school, and there it had been discovered that shepossessed a remarkably fine voice, and she had been placed in thechoir; and, after a time, at the suggestion of some of the teachers,her mother had taken her to the manager of the variety hall, who wasso pleased with her singing that he gave her a chance to appear onthe boards of his theater. She had made her _debut_ last night, andthe whole tenement-house, and, in fact, the whole alley andneighboring streets, were talking that morning of her great success;and, strange to say, they all rejoiced in the brightening fortunes ofthe poor family.
"'Then,' I said to myself, 'Carlson was merely a stage name, probablysuggested by the manager of the variety show.'
"I determined to find out more about the pretty Christina."
CHAPTER XXIV.
MAX'S STORY CONTINUED--THE JOURNEYMAN PRINTER
"You may be sure that that night the public took the variety theaterby storm; every seat was filled; the very aisles were crowded withmen standing; the beer flowed in streams and the tobacco-smoke rosein clouds; the establishment was doing a splendid business. Christinawas down on the bills for three solos. Each one was a triumph--encorefollowed encore--and when the performance closed the little singerwas called before the curtain and another Danae shower of silver andgold, and some bouquets, fell around her. When I went behind thescenes I found the happy girl surrounded by even a larger circle ofadmirers than the night before, each one sounding her praises. Icalled the manager aside. He knew me well as a rich youngspendthrift. I said to him:
"'How much a week do you pay Christina?'
"'I promised her,' said he, 'five dollars a week; but,' and here helooked at me suspiciously, 'I have determined to double it. I shallpay her ten.'
"'That is not enough,' I said; 'you will find in her a gold mine. Youmust pay her fifty.'
"'My dear sir,' he said, 'I cannot afford it. I really cannot.'
"'Well,' said 'I will speak to Jobson [a rival in business]; he willpay her a hundred. I saw him here to-night. He has already heard ofher.'
"'But,' said he, 'she has contracted with me to sing for threemonths, at five dollars per week; and I have permitted her to takehome all the money that was thrown on the stage last night andto-night. Now I shall pay her ten. Is not that liberal?'
"'Liberal!' I said; 'it is hoggish. This girl has made you twohundred dollars extra profit to-night. She is under age. She cannotmake a binding contract. And the money that was thrown to her belongsto her and not to you. Come, what do you say--shall I speak toJobson?'
"'What interest have you in this girl?' he asked, sullenly.
"'That is no matter of yours,' I replied; 'if you will not pay herwhat I demand, to-morrow night she will sing for Jobson, and yourplace will be empty.'
"'Well,' said he, 'I will pay it; but I don't see what right you haveto interfere in my business.'
"'That is not all,' I said; 'go to her now and tell her you have madea good deal of money to-night, by her help, and ask her to acceptfifty dollars from you as a present; and tell her, in my hearing,that she is to receive fifty dollars a week hereafter. The family arevery poor, and need immediate help. And besides, if she does not knowthat she is to receive a liberal salary, when the agents of the otherhouses come for her, she may leave you. Fair play is the wisestthing.'
"He thought a moment; he was very angry with me; but finally heswallowed his wrath, and pushed his way through the crowd to whereChristina stood, and said to her with many a bow and smile:
"'Miss Christina, your charming voice has greatly increased mybusiness to-night; and I think it only fair to give you a part of myprofits--here are fifty dollars.'
"Christina was delighted--she took the money--she had never seen solarge an amount before--she handed it to her mother; and both wereprofuse in their thanks, while the crowd vigorously applauded thegood and generous manager.
"'But this is not all,' he continued; 'instead of five dollars perweek, the sum we had agreed upon, for your singing, I shall pay youhereafter fifty dollars a week!'
"There was still greater applause; Christina's eyes swam withhappiness; her mother began to cry; Christina seized the manager'shand, and the old scamp posed, as he received the thanks of thosepresent, as if all this were the outcome of his own generosity, andas if he were indeed the best and noblest of men. I have no doubtthat if I had not interfered he would have kept her on the fivedollars a week, and the silly little soul would have been satisfied.
"I followed them home. I again listened to their happiness. And thenI heard the mother tell the father that they must both go outto-morrow and find a better place to lodge in, for they were richnow. A bright thought flashed across my mind, and I hastened away.
"The next morning, at daybreak, I hurried to the same detective I hademployed the day before; he was a shrewd, but not unkindly fellow. Iexplained to him my plans, and we went out together. We took acarriage and drove rapidly from place to place; he really seemedpleased to find himself engaged, for once in his life, in a goodaction. What I did will be revealed as I go on with this story.
"At half past eight o'clock that morning the Jansen family hadfinished their breakfast and talked over and over again, for thetwentieth time, their wonderful turn of fortune, and all itsincidents, including repeated counting of their marvelous hoard ofmoney. Then Christina was left in charge of the children, and thefather and mother sallied forth to look for a new residence. Theneighbors crowded around to congratulate them; and theyexplained,--for, kindly-hearted souls, they did not wish their oldcompanions in poverty to think that they had willingly fled fromthem, at the first approach of good fortune,--they explained thatthey must get a new home nearer to the theater, for Christina's sake;and that they proposed that she should have teachers in music andsinging and acting; for she was now the bread-winner of the family,and they hoped that some day she would shine in opera with the greatartists.
"Did the neighbors know of any place, suitable for them, which theycould rent?
"No, they did not; they rarely passed out of their own poorneighborhood.
"But here a plainly dressed man, who looked like a workman, and whohad been listening to the conversation, spoke up and said that he hadobserved, only that morning, a bill of 'To Rent' upon a very neatlittle house, only a few blocks from the theater; and, as he wasgoing that way, he would be glad to show them the place. They thankedhim; and, explaining to him that the business of renting houses wassomething new to them, for heretofore they had lived in one or tworooms--they might have added, very near the roof--they walked offwith the stranger. He led them into a pleasant, quiet, respectableneighborhood, and at last stopped before a small, neat three-storyhouse, with a little garden in front and another larger one in therear.
"'What a pretty place!' said the mother; 'but I fear the rent will betoo high for us.'
"'Well, there is no harm in inquiring,' said the workman, and he rangthe bell.
"A young man, dressed like a mechanic, answered the summons. Heinvited them in; the house was comfortably, but not richly furnished.They went through it and into the garden; they were delighted witheverything. And then came the question they feared to ask: What wasthe rent?
"'Well,' said the young man, pleasantly, I must explain my position.I am a printer by trade. My name is Francis Montgomer
y. I own thishouse. It was left to me by my parents. It is all I have. I am notmarried. I cannot live in it alone; it is too big for that; and,besides, I think I should get some income out of it, for there arethe taxes to be paid. But I do not want to leave the house. I wasborn and raised here. I thought that if I could get some pleasantfamily to take it, who would let me retain one of the upper rooms,and would board me, I would rent the house for'--here he mentioned aridiculously low price. 'I do not want,' he added, 'any expensivefare. I am content to take "pot-luck" with the family. I like yourlooks; and if you want the house, at the