Herbert Quick
Aladdin & Co
A Romance of Yankee Magic
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066224844
Table of Contents
The Persons of the Story.
James Elkins, the “man who made Lattimore,” known as “Jim.”
Albert Barslow, who tells the tale; the friend and partner of Jim.
Alice Barslow, his wife; at first, his sweetheart.
William Trescott, known as “Bill,” a farmer and capitalist.
Josephine Trescott, his daughter.
Mrs. Trescott, his wife.
Mr. Hinckley, a banker of Lattimore.
Mrs. Hinckley, his wife; devoted to the emancipation of woman.
Antonia, their daughter.
Aleck Macdonald, pioneer and capitalist.
General Lattimore, pioneer, soldier, and godfather of Lattimore.
Miss Addison, the general’s niece.
Captain Marion Tolliver, Confederate veteran and Lattimore boomer.
Mrs. Tolliver, his wife.
Will Lattimore, a lawyer.
Mr. Ballard, a banker.
J. Bedford Cornish, a speculator, who with Elkins, Barslow, and Hinckley make up the great Lattimore “Syndicate.”
Clifford Giddings, editor and proprietor of the Lattimore Herald.
De Forest Barr-Smith, an Englishman “representing capital.”
Cecil Barr-Smith, his brother.
Avery Pendleton, of New York, a railway magnate; head of the “Pendleton System.”
Allen G. Wade, of New York; head of the Allen G. Wade Trust Co.
Halliday, a railway magnate; head of the “Halliday System.”
Watson, a reporter.
Schwartz, a locomotive engineer on the Lattimore & Great Western.
Hegvold, a fireman.
Citizens of Lattimore, Politicians, Live-stock Merchants, Railway Clerks and Officials, etc.
Scene: Principally in the Western town of Lattimore, but partly in New York and Chicago.
Time: Not so very long ago.
Aladdin & Co
CHAPTER I.
Which is of Introductory Character.
Our National Convention met in Chicago that year, and I was one of the delegates. I had looked forward to it with keen expectancy. I was now, at five o’clock of the first day, admitting to myself that it was a bore.
The special train, with its crowd of overstimulated enthusiasts, the throngs at the stations, the brass bands, bunting, and buncombe all jarred upon me. After a while my treason was betrayed to the boys by the fact that I was not hoarse. They punished me by making me sing as a solo the air of each stanza of “Marching Through Georgia,” “Tenting To-night on the Old Camp-ground,” and other patriotic songs, until my voice was assimilated to theirs. But my gorge rose at it all, and now, at five o’clock of the first day, I was seeking a place of retirement where I could be alone and think over the marvelous event which had suddenly raised me from yesterday’s parity with the fellows on the train to my present state of exaltation.
I should have preferred a grotto in Vau Vau or some south-looking mountain glen; but in the absence of any such retreat in Chicago, I turned into the old art-gallery in Michigan Avenue. As I went floating in space past its door, my eye caught through the window the gleam of the white limbs of statues, and my being responded to the soul vibrations they sent out. So I paid my fee, entered, and found the tender solitude for which my heart longed. I sat down and luxuriated in thoughts of the so recent marvelous experience. Need I explain that I was young and the experience was one of the heart?
I was so young that my delegateship was regarded as a matter to excite wonder. I saw my picture in the papers next morning as a youth of twenty-three who had become his party’s leader in an important agricultural county. Some, in the shameless laudation of a sensational press, compared me to the younger Pitt. As a matter of fact, I had some talent for organization, and in any gathering of men, I somehow never lacked a following. I was young enough to be an honest partisan, enthusiastic enough to be useful, strong enough to be respected, ignorant enough to believe my party my country’s safeguard, and I was prominent in my county before I was old enough to vote. At twenty-one I conducted a convention fight which made a member of Congress. It was quite natural, therefore, that I should be delegate to this convention, and that I had looked forward to it with keen expectancy. The remarkable thing was my falling off from its work now by virtue of that recent marvelous experience which as I have admitted was one of the heart. Do not smile. At three-and-twenty even delegates have hearts.
My mental and sentimental state is of importance in this history, I think, or I should not make so much of it. I feel sure that I should not have behaved just as I did had I not been at that moment in the iridescent cloudland of newly-reciprocated love. Alice had accepted me not an hour before my departure for Chicago. Hence my loathing for such things as nominating speeches and the report of the Committee on Credentials, and my yearning for the Vau Vau grotto. She had yielded herself up to me with such manifold sweetnesses, uttered and unutterable (all of which had to be gone over in my mind constantly to make sure of their reality), that the contest in Indiana, and the cause of our own State’s Favorite Son, became sickening burdens to me, which rolled away as I gazed upon the canvases in the gallery. I lay back upon a seat, half closed my eyes, and looked at the pictures. When one comes to consider the matter, an art gallery is a wonderfully different thing from a national convention!
As I looked on them, the still paintings became instinct with life. Yonder shepherdess shielding from the thorns the little white lamb was Alice, and back behind the clump of elms was myself, responding to her silvery call. The cottage on the mountain-side was ours. That lady waving her handkerchief from the promontory was Alice, too; and I was the dim figure on the deck of the passing ship. I was the knight and she the wood-nymph; I the gladiator in the circus, she the Roman lady who agonized for me in the audience; I the troubadour who twanged the guitar, she the princess whose fair shoulder shone through the lace at the balcony window. They lived and moved before my very eyes. I knew the unseen places beyond the painted mountains, and saw the secret things the artists only dreamed of. Doves cooed for me from the clumps of thorn; the clouds sailed in pearly serenity across the skies, their shadows mottling mountain, hill, and plain; and out from behind every bole, and through every leafy screen, glimpsed white dryads and fleeing fays.
Clearly the convention hall was no place for me. “Hang the speech of the temporary chairman, anyhow!” thought I; “and as for the platform, let it point with pride, and view with apprehension, to its heart’s content; it is sure to omit all reference to the overshadowing issue