the sight of his boy, or
his wife and Anna. He had grown, in a manner, accustomed to Ina being
away. There is something about marriage and the absence it causes
that brings one into the state of acquiescence concerning death. But
he longed for the others, and he thought of his poor little Charlotte
at home all day, and her loneliness. He looked at his watch, and
realized that he must hurry if he caught the train which would take
him to Banbridge at six o'clock. He had one more place on his list,
and that was far up-town. He crossed to the Elevated station and
boarded the first up-town train. What he was about to do was, in a
way, so monstrous, taking into consideration his antecedents, his
bringing-up, and all his forebears, that it had to his mind the
grotesqueness of a gargoyle on his house of life. He was now going to
apply for the last position on his list, that of a coachman for a
gentleman, presumably of wealth, in Harlem. The name was quite
unknown to him. It was German. He thought to himself in all
probability the owner was Jewish. This was absolutely his last
venture. He chose this as he would choose anything in preference to
the one which was always within reach. As the train sped along he
fell to thinking of himself in this position for which he was about
to apply. He imagined himself in livery sitting with a pair of sleek
bays well in hand. He reflected that at least he could do his work
well. He wondered idly about the questions he would be asked. He
considered suddenly that he must have a reference for a place of this
sort, and he tore a leaf out of his note-book, took out his
stylo-graphic pen, and scribbled a reference, signing his own name.
He reflected, as he did so, that it was odd that he, who had employed
so many doubtful methods to gain financial ends, should feel an
inward qualm at the proceeding. Still, he was somewhat amused at the
thought that Mr. A. Baumstein might write to him at Banbridge, and he
should in that case reply, repeating his own list of qualification
for the place. He wondered if they would ask if he were married, if
they would prefer him married, if he drank, if he would be forbidden
to smoke in the stables. He considered all the questions which he
should be likely to ask himself, in a similar case. He got a curious
feeling as if he were having an experience like Alice in Wonderland,
as if he were in reality going in at the back of his own experiences,
gaining the further side o