The Complete Non-Fiction Writings of Mark Twain: Old Times on the Mississippi + Life on the Mississippi + Christian Science + Queen Victoria's Jubilee + My Platonic Sweetheart + Editorial Wild Oats. Mark Twain

through the distant gloom, and heard the muffled cough of her ‘scape-pipes and the plaintive cry of her leadsmen.

      In the absence of further statistics, I beg to close this chapter with one more reminiscence of ‘Stephen.’

      Most of the captains and pilots held Stephen’s note for borrowed sums, ranging from two hundred and fifty dollars upward. Stephen never paid one of these notes, but he was very prompt and very zealous about renewing them every twelve months.

      Of course there came a time, at last, when Stephen could no longer borrow of his ancient creditors; so he was obliged to lie in wait for new men who did not know him. Such a victim was goodhearted, simple natured young Yates (I use a fictitious name, but the real name began, as this one does, with a Y). Young Yates graduated as a pilot, got a berth, and when the month was ended and he stepped up to the clerk’s office and received his two hundred and fifty dollars in crisp new bills, Stephen was there! His silvery tongue began to wag, and in a very little while Yates’s two hundred and fifty dollars had changed hands. The fact was soon known at pilot headquarters, and the amusement and satisfaction of the old creditors were large and generous. But innocent Yates never suspected that Stephen’s promise to pay promptly at the end of the week was a worthless one. Yates called for his money at the stipulated time; Stephen sweetened him up and put him off a week. He called then, according to agreement, and came away sugarcoated again, but suffering under another postponement. So the thing went on. Yates haunted Stephen week after week, to no purpose, and at last gave it up. And then straightway Stephen began to haunt Yates! Wherever Yates appeared, there was the inevitable Stephen. And not only there, but beaming with affection and gushing with apologies for not being able to pay. By and by, whenever poor Yates saw him coming, he would turn and fly, and drag his company with him, if he had company; but it was of no use; his debtor would run him down and corner him. Panting and red-faced, Stephen would come, with outstretched hands and eager eyes, invade the conversation, shake both of Yates’s arms loose in their sockets, and begin —

      ‘My, what a race I’ve had! I saw you didn’t see me, and so I clapped on all steam for fear I’d miss you entirely. And here you are! there, just stand so, and let me look at you! just the same old noble countenance.’ [To Yates’s friend:] ‘Just look at him! LOOK at him! Ain’t it just GOOD to look at him! AIN’T it now? Ain’t he just a picture! SOME call him a picture; I call him a panorama! That’s what he is — an entire panorama. And now I’m reminded! How I do wish I could have seen you an hour earlier! For twenty-four hours I’ve been saving up that two hundred and fifty dollars for you; been looking for you everywhere. I waited at the Planter’s from six yesterday evening till two o’clock this morning, without rest or food; my wife says, “Where have you been all night?” I said, “This debt lies heavy on my mind.” She says, “In all my days I never saw a man take a debt to heart the way you do.” I said, “It’s my nature; how can I change it?” She says, “Well, do go to bed and get some rest.” I said, “Not till that poor, noble young man has got his money.” So I set up all night, and this morning out I shot, and the first man I struck told me you had shipped on the “Grand Turk” and gone to New Orleans. Well, sir, I had to lean up against a building and cry. So help me goodness, I couldn’t help it. The man that owned the place come out cleaning up with a rag, and said he didn’t like to have people cry against his building, and then it seemed to me that the whole world had turned against me, and it wasn’t any use to live any more; and coming along an hour ago, suffering no man knows what agony, I met Jim Wilson and paid him the two hundred and fifty dollars on account; and to think that here you are, now, and I haven’t got a cent! But as sure as I am standing here on this ground on this particular brick, — there, I’ve scratched a mark on the brick to remember it by, — I’ll borrow that money and pay it over to you at twelve o’clock sharp, tomorrow! Now, stand so; let me look at you just once more.’

      And so on. Yates’s life became a burden to him. He could not escape his debtor and his debtor’s awful sufferings on account of not being able to pay. He dreaded to show himself in the street, lest he should find Stephen lying in wait for him at the corner.

      Bogart’s billiard saloon was a great resort for pilots in those days. They met there about as much to exchange river news as to play. One morning Yates was there; Stephen was there, too, but kept out of sight. But by and by, when about all the pilots had arrived who were in town, Stephen suddenly appeared in the midst, and rushed for Yates as for a long-lost brother.

      ‘OH, I am so glad to see you! Oh my soul, the sight of you is such a comfort to my eyes! Gentlemen, I owe all of you money; among you I owe probably forty thousand dollars. I want to pay it; I intend to pay it every last cent of it. You all know, without my telling you, what sorrow it has cost me to remain so long under such deep obligations to such patient and generous friends; but the sharpest pang I suffer — by far the sharpest — is from the debt I owe to this noble young man here; and I have come to this place this morning especially to make the announcement that I have at last found a method whereby I can pay off all my debts! And most especially I wanted HIM to be here when I announced it. Yes, my faithful friend, — my benefactor, I’ve found the method! I’ve found the method to pay off all my debts, and you’ll get your money!’ Hope dawned in Yates’s eye; then Stephen, beaming benignantly, and placing his hand upon Yates’s head, added, ‘I am going to pay them off in alphabetical order!’

      Then he turned and disappeared. The full significance of Stephen’s ‘method’ did not dawn upon the perplexed and musing crowd for some two minutes; and then Yates murmured with a sigh —

      ‘Well, the Y’s stand a gaudy chance. He won’t get any further than the C’s in THIS world, and I reckon that after a good deal of eternity has wasted away in the next one, I’ll still be referred to up there as “that poor, ragged pilot that came here from St. Louis in the early days!”