The Fourth in Salvador

by O. Henry

  


On a summer's day, while the city was rocking with the din and reduproar of patriotism, Billy Casparis told me this story. In his way, Billy is Ulysses, Jr. Like Satan, he comes from going toand fro upon the earth and walking up and down in it. To-morrowmorning while you are cracking your breakfast egg he may be off withhis little alligator grip to boom a town site in the middle of LakeOkeechobee or to trade horses with the Patagonians. We sat at a little, round table, and between us were glasses holdingbig lumps of ice, and above us leaned an artificial palm. And becauseour scene was set with the properties of the one they recalled to hismind, Billy was stirred to narrative. "It reminds me," said he, "of a Fourth I helped to celebrate down inSalvador. 'Twas while I was running an ice factory down there, after Iunloaded that silver mine I had in Colorado. I had what they called a'conditional concession.' They made me put up a thousand dollars cashforfeit that I would make ice continuously for six months. If I didthat I could draw down my ante. If I failed to do so the governmenttook the pot. So the inspectors kept dropping in, trying to catch mewithout the goods. "One day when the thermometer was at 110, the clock at half-past one,and the calendar at July third, two of the little, brown, oily nosersin red trousers slid in to make an inspection. Now, the factory hadn'tturned out a pound of ice in three weeks, for a couple of reasons. TheSalvador heathen wouldn't buy it; they said it make things cold theyput it in. And I couldn't make any more, because I was broke. All Iwas holding on for was to get down my thousand so I could leave thecountry. The six months would be up on the sixth of July. "Well, I showed 'em all the ice I had. I raised the lid of a darkishvat, and there was an elegant 100-pound block of ice, beautiful andconvincing to the eye. I was about to close down the lid again whenone of those brunette sleuths flops down on his red knees and lays aslanderous and violent hand on my guarantee of good faith. And in twominutes more they had dragged out on the floor that fine chunk ofmolded glass that had cost me fifty dollars to have shipped down fromFrisco. "'Ice-y?' says the fellow that played me the dishonourable trick;'verree warm ice-y. Yes. The day is that hot, senor. Yes. Maybeso itis of desirableness to leave him out to get the cool. Yes.' "'Yes,' says I, 'yes,' for I knew they had me. 'Touching's believing,ain't it, boys? Yes. Now there's some might say the seats of yourtrousers are sky blue, but 'tis my opinion they are red. Let's applythe tests of the laying on of hands and feet.' And so I hoisted boththose inspectors out the door on the toe of my shoe, and sat down tocool off on my block of disreputable glass. "And, as I live without oats, while I sat there, homesick for moneyand without a cent to my ambition, there came on the breeze the mostbeautiful smell my nose had entered for a year. God knows where itcame from in that backyard of a country--it was a bouquet of soakedlemon peel, cigar stumps, and stale beer--exactly the smell ofGoldbrick Charley's place on Fourteenth Street where I used to playpinochle of afternoons with the third-rate actors. And that smelldrove my troubles through me and clinched 'em at the back. I began tolong for my country and feel sentiments about it; and I said wordsabout Salvador that you wouldn't think could come legitimate out of anice factory. "And while I was sitting there, down through the blazing sunshine inhis clean, white clothes comes Maximilian Jones, an Americaninterested in rubber and rosewood. "'Great carrambos!' says I, when he stepped in, for I was in a badtemper, 'didn't I have catastrophes enough? I know what you want. Youwant to tell me that story again about Johnny Ammiger and the widow onthe train. You've told it nine times already this month.' "'It must be the heat,' says Jones, stopping in at the door, amazed.'Poor Billy. He's got bugs. Sitting on ice, and calling his bestfriends pseudonyms. Hi!--/muchacho/!' Jones called my force ofemployees, who was sitting in the sun, playing with his toes, and toldhim to put on his trousers and run for the doctor. "'Come back,' says I. 'Sit down, Maxy, and forget it. 'Tis not ice yousee, nor a lunatic upon it. 'Tis only an exile full of homesicknesssitting on a lump of glass that's just cost him a thousand dollars.Now, what was it Johnny said to the widow first? I'd like to hear itagain, Maxy--honest. Don't mind what I said.' "Maximilian Jones and I sat down and talked. He was about as sick ofthe country as I was, for the grafters were squeezing him for half theprofits of his rosewood and rubber. Down in the bottom of a tank ofwater I had a dozen bottles of sticky Frisco beer; and I fished theseup, and we fell to talking about home and the flag and Hail Columbiaand home-fried potatoes; and the drivel we contributed would havesickened any man enjoying those blessings. But at that time we wereout of 'em. You can't appreciate home till you've left it, money tillit's spent, your wife till she's joined a woman's club, nor Old Glorytill you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in aforeign town. "And sitting there me and Maximilian Jones, scratching at our pricklyheat and kicking at the lizards on the floor, became afflicted with adose of patriotism and affection for our country. There was me, BillyCasparis, reduced from a capitalist to a pauper by over-addiction tomy glass (in the lump), declares my troubles off for the present andmyself to be an uncrowned sovereign of the greatest country on earth.And Maximilian Jones pours out whole drug stores of his wrath onoligarchies and potentates in red trousers and calico shoes. And weissues a declaration of interference in which we guarantee that thefourth day of July shall be celebrated in Salvador with all the kindsof salutes, explosions, honours of war, oratory, and liquids known totradition. Yes, neither me nor Jones breathed with soul so dead. Thereshall be rucuses in Salvador, we say, and the monkeys had better climbthe tallest cocoanut trees and the fire department get out its redsashes and two tin buckets. "About this time into the factory steps a native man incriminated bythe name of General Mary Esperanza Dingo. He was some pumpkin both inpolitics and colour, and the friend of me and Jones. He was full ofpoliteness and a kind of intelligence, having picked up the latter andmanaged to preserve the former during a two years' residence inPhiladelphia studying medicine. For a Salvadorian he was not such acalamitous little man, though he always would play jack, queen, king,ace, deuce for a straight. "General Mary sits with us and has a bottle. While he was in theStates he had acquired a synopsis of the English language and the artof admiring our institutions. By and by the General gets up andtiptoes to the doors and windows and other stage entrances, remarking'Hist!' at each one. They all do that in Salvador before they ask fora drink of water or the time of day, being conspirators from thecradle and matinee idols by proclamation. "'Hist!' says General Dingo again, and then he lays his chest on thetable quite like Gaspard the Miser. 'Good friends, senores, to-morrowwill be the great day of Liberty and Independence. The hearts ofAmericans and Salvadorians should beat together. Of your history andyour great Washington I know. Is it not so?' "Now, me and Jones thought that nice of the General to remember whenthe Fourth came. It made us feel good. He must have heard the newsgoing round in Philadelphia about that disturbance we had withEngland. "'Yes,' says me and Maxy together, 'we knew it. We were talking aboutit when you came in. And you can bet your bottom concession thatthere'll be fuss and feathers in the air to-morrow. We are few innumbers, but the welkin may as well reach out to push the button, forit's got to ring.' "'I, too, shall assist,' says the General, thumping his collar-bone.'I, too, am on the side of Liberty. Noble Americans, we will make theday one to be never forgotten.' "'For us American whisky,' says Jones--'none of your Scotch smoke oranisada or Three Star Hennessey to-morrow. We'll borrow the consul'sflag; old man Billfinger shall make orations, and we'll have abarbecue on the plaza.' "'Fireworks,' says I, 'will be scarce; but we'll have all thecartridges in the shops for our guns. I've got two navy sixes Ibrought from Denver.' "'There is one cannon,' said the General; 'one big cannon that will go"BOOM!" And three hundred men with rifles to shoot.' "'Oh, say!' says Jones, 'Generalissimo, you're the real silk elastic.We'll make it a joint international celebration. Please, General, geta white horse and a blue sash and be grand marshal.' "'With my sword,' says the General, rolling his eyes. 'I shall ride atthe head of the brave men who gather in the name of Liberty.' "'And you might,' we suggest 'see the commandante and advise him thatwe are going to prize things up a bit. We Americans, you know, areaccustomed to using municipal regulations for gun wadding when we lineup to help the eagle scream. He might suspend the rules for one day.We don't want to get in the calaboose for spanking his soldiers ifthey get in our way, do you see?' "'Hist!' says General Mary. 'The commandant is with us, heart andsoul. He will aid us. He is one of us.' "We made all the arrangements that afternoon. There was a buck coonfrom Georgia in Salvador who had drifted down there from a busted-upcoloured colony that had been started on some possumless land inMexico. As soon as he heard us say 'barbecue' he wept for joy andgroveled on the ground. He dug his trench on the plaza, and got half abeef on the coals for an all-night roast. Me and Maxy went to see therest of the Americans in the town and they all sizzled like a seidlitzwith joy at the idea of solemnizing an old-time Fourth. "There were six of us all together--Martin Dillard, a coffee planter;Henry Barnes, a railroad man; old man Billfinger, an educated tintypetaker; me and Jonesy, and Jerry, the boss of the barbecue. There wasalso an Englishman in town named Sterrett, who was there to write abook on Domestic Architecture of the Insect World. We felt somebashfulness about inviting a Britisher to help crow over his owncountry, but we decided to risk it, out of our personal regard forhim. "We found Sterrett in pajamas working at his manuscript with a bottleof brandy for a paper weight. "'Englishman,' says Jones, 'let us interrupt your disquisition on bughouses for a moment. To-morrow is the Fourth of July. We don't want tohurt your feelings, but we're going to commemorate the day when welicked you by a little refined debauchery and nonsense--something thatcan be heard above five miles off. If you are broad-gauged enough totaste whisky at your own wake, we'd be pleased to have you join us.' "'Do you know,' says Sterrett, setting his glasses on his nose, 'Ilike your cheek in asking me if I'll join you; blast me if I don't.You might have known I would, without asking. Not as a traitor to myown country, but for the intrinsic joy of a blooming row.' "On the morning of the Fourth I woke up in that old shanty of an icefactory feeling sore. I looked around at the wreck of all I possessed,and my heart was full of bile. From where I lay on my cot I could lookthrough the window and see the consul's old ragged Stars and Stripeshanging over his shack. 'You're all kinds of a fool, Billy Casparis,'I said to myself; 'and of all your crimes against sense it does looklike this idea of celebrating the Fourth should receive the award ofdemerit. Your business is busted up, your thousand dollars is goneinto the kitty of this corrupt country on that last bluff you made,you've got just fifteen Chili dollars left, worth forty-six cents eachat bedtime last night and steadily going down. To-day you'll blow inyour last cent hurrahing for that flag, and to-morrow you'll be livingon bananas from the stalk and screwing your drinks out of yourfriends. What's the flag done for you? While you were under it youworked for what you got. You wore your finger nails down skinningsuckers, and salting mines, and driving bears and alligators off yourtown lot additions. How much does patriotism count for on deposit withthe little man with the green eye-shade in the savings-bank adds upyour book? Suppose you were to get pinched over here in thisirreligious country for some little crime or other, and appealed toyour country for protection--what would it do for you? Turn yourappeal over to a committee of one railroad man, an army officer, amember of each labour union, and a coloured man to investigate whetherany of your ancestors were ever related to a cousin of Mark Hanna, andthen file the papers in the Smithsonian Institution until after thenext election. That's the kind of a sidetrack the Stars and Stripeswould switch you onto.' "You can see that I was feeling like an indigo plant; but after Iwashed my face in some cool water, and got out my navys andammunition, and started up to the Saloon of the Immaculate Saintswhere we were to meet, I felt better. And when I saw those otherAmerican boys come swaggering into the trysting place--cool, easy,conspicuous fellows, ready to risk any kind of a one-card draw, or tofight grizzlies, fire, or extradition, I began to feel glad I was oneof 'em. So, I says to myself again: 'Billy, you've got fifteen dollarsand a country left this morning--blow in the dollars and blow up thetown as an American gentleman should on Independence Day.' "It is my recollection that we began the day along conventional lines.The six of us--for Sterrett was along--made progress among thecantinas, divesting the bars as we went of all strong drink bearingAmerican labels. We kept informing the atmosphere as to the glory andpreeminence of the United States and its ability to subdue, outjump,and eradicate the other nations of the earth. And, as the findings ofAmerican labels grew more plentiful, we became more contaminated withpatriotism. Maximilian Jones hopes that our late foe, Mr. Sterrett,will not take offense at our enthusiasm. He sets down his bottle andshakes Sterrett's hand. 'As white man to white man,' says he, 'denudeour uproar of the slightest taint of personality. Excuse us for BunkerHill, Patrick Henry, and Waldorf Astor, and such grievances as mightlie between us as nations.' "'Fellow hoodlums,' says Sterrett, 'on behalf of the Queen I ask youto cheese it. It is an honour to be a guest at disturbing the peaceunder the American flag. Let us chant the passionate strains of"Yankee Doodle" while the senor behind the bar mitigates the occasionwith another round of cochineal and aqua fortis.' "Old Man Billfinger, being charged with a kind of rhetoric, makesspeeches every time we stop. We explained to such citizens as wehappened to step on that we were celebrating the dawn of our ownprivate brand of liberty, and to please enter such inhumanities as wemight commit on the list of unavoidable casualties. "About eleven o'clock our bulletins read: 'A considerable rise intemperature, accompanied by thirst and other alarming symptoms.' Wehooked arms and stretched our line across the narrow streets, all ofus armed with Winchesters and navys for purposes of noise and withoutmalice. We stopped on a street corner and fired a dozen or so rounds,and began a serial assortment of United States whoops and yells,probably the first ever heard in that town. "When we made that noise things began to liven up. We heard apattering up a side street, and here came General Mary Esperanza Dingoon a white horse with a couple of hundred brown boys following him inred undershirts and bare feet, dragging guns ten feet long. Jones andme had forgot all about General Mary and his promise to help uscelebrate. We fired another salute and gave another yell, while theGeneral shook hands with us and waved his sword. "'Oh, General,' shouts Jones, 'this is great. This will be a realpleasure to the eagle. Get down and have a drink.' "'Drink?' says the general. 'No. There is no time to drink. /Vive laLibertad/!' "'Don't forget /E Pluribus Unum/!' says Henry Barnes. "'/Viva/ it good and strong,' says I. 'Likewise, /viva/ GeorgeWashington. God save the Union, and,' I says, bowing to Sterrett,'don't discard the Queen.' "'Thanks,' says Sterrett. 'The next round's mine. All in to the bar.Army, too.' "But we were deprived of Sterrett's treat by a lot of gunshots severalsquare sway, which General Dingo seemed to think he ought to lookafter. He spurred his old white plug up that way, and the soldiersscuttled along after him. "'Mary is a real tropical bird,' says Jones. 'He's turned out theinfantry to help us to honour to the Fourth. We'll get that cannon hespoke of after a while and fire some window-breakers with it. But justnow I want some of that barbecued beef. Let us on to the plaza.' "There we found the meat gloriously done, and Jerry waiting, anxious.We sat around on the grass, and got hunks of it on our tin plates.Maximilian Jones, always made tender-hearted by drink, cried somebecause George Washington couldn't be there to enjoy the day. 'Therewas a man I love, Billy,' he says, weeping on my shoulder. 'PoorGeorge! To think he's gone, and missed the fireworks. A little moresalt, please, Jerry.' "From what we could hear, General Dingo seemed to be kindlycontributing some noise while we feasted. There were guns going offaround town, and pretty soon we heard that cannon go 'BOOM!' just ashe said it would. And then men began to skin along the edge of theplaza, dodging in among the orange trees and houses. We certainly hadthings stirred up in Salvador. We felt proud of the occasion andgrateful to General Dingo. Sterrett was about to take a bite off ajuicy piece of rib when a bullet took it away from his mouth. "'Somebody's celebrating with ball cartridges,' says he, reaching foranother piece. 'Little over-zealous for a non-resident patriot, isn'tit?' "'Don't mind it,' I says to him. ''Twas an accident. They happen, youknow, on the Fourth. After one reading of the Declaration ofIndependence in New York I've known the S.R.O. sign to be hung out atall the hospitals and police stations.' "But then Jerry gives a howl and jumps up with one hand clapped to theback of his leg where another bullet has acted over-zealous. And thencomes a quantity of yells, and round a corner and across the plazagallops General Mary Esperanza Dingo embracing the neck of his horse,with his men running behind him, mostly dropping their guns by way ofdischarging ballast. And chasing 'em all is a company of feverishlittle warriors wearing blue trousers and caps. "'Assistance, amigos,' the General shouts, trying to stop his horse.'Assistance, in the name of Liberty!' "'That's the Campania Azul, the President's bodyguard,' says Jones.'What a shame! They've jumped on poor old Mary just because he washelping us to celebrate. Come on, boys, it's our Fourth;--do we letthat little squad of A.D.T's break it up?' "'I vote No,' says Martin Dillard, gathering his Winchester. 'It's theprivilege of an American citizen to drink, drill, dress up, and bedreadful on the Fourth of July, no matter whose country he's in.' "'Fellow citizens!' says old man Billfinger, 'In the darkest hour ofFreedom's birth, when our brave forefathers promulgated the principlesof undying liberty, they never expected that a bunch of blue jays likethat should be allowed to bust up an anniversary. Let us preserve andprotect the Constitution.' "We made it unanimous, and then we gathered our guns and assaulted theblue troops in force. We fired over their heads, and then charged 'emwith a yell, and they broke and ran. We were irritated at having ourbarbecue disturbed, and we chased 'em a quarter of a mile. Some of 'emwe caught and kicked hard. The General rallied his troops and joinedin the chase. Finally they scattered in a thick banana grove, and wecouldn't flush a single one. So we sat down and rested. "If I were to be put, severe, through the third degree, I wouldn't beable to tell much about the rest of the day. I mind that we pervadedthe town considerable, calling upon the people to bring out morearmies for us to destroy. I remember seeing a crowd somewhere, and atall man that wasn't Billfinger making a Fourth of July speech from abalcony. And that was about all. "Somebody must have hauled the old ice factory up to where I was, andput it around me, for there's where I was when I woke up the nextmorning. As soon as I could recollect by name and address I got up andheld an inquest. My last cent was gone. I was all in. "And then a neat black carriage drives to the door, and out stepsGeneral Dingo and a bay man in a silk hat and tan shoes. "'Yes,' says I to myself, 'I see it now. You're the Chief de Policeosand High Lord Chamberlain of the Calaboosum; and you want BillyCasparis for excess of patriotism and assault with intent. All right.Might as well be in jail, anyhow.' "But it seems that General Mary is smiling, and the bay man shakes myhand, and speaks in the American dialect. "'General Dingo has informed me, Senor Casparis, of your gallantservice in our cause. I desire to thank you with my person. Thebravery of you and the other senores Americanos turned the strugglefor liberty in our favour. Our party triumphed. The terrible battlewill live forever in history. "'Battle?' says I; 'what battle?' and I ran my mind back alonghistory, trying to think. "'Senor Casparis is modest,' says General Dingo. 'He led his bravecompadres into the thickest of the fearful conflict. Yes. Withouttheir aid the revolution would have failed.' "'Why, now,' says I, 'don't tell me there was a revolution yesterday.That was only a Fourth of--' "But right there I abbreviated. It seemed to me it might be best. "'After the terrible struggle,' says the bay man, 'President Bolanowas forced to fly. To-day Caballo is President by proclamation. Ah,yes. Beneath the new administration I am the head of the Department ofMercantile Concessions. On my file I find one report, Senor Casparis,that you have not made ice in accord with your contract.' And here thebay man smiles at me, 'cute. "'Oh, well,' says I, 'I guess the report's straight. I know theycaught me. That's all there is to it.' "'Do not say so,' says the bay man. He pulls off a glove and goes overand lays his hand on that chunk of glass. "'Ice,' says he, nodding his head, solemn. "General Dingo also steps over and feels of it. "'Ice,' says the General; 'I'll swear to it.' "'If Senor Casparis,' says the bay man, 'will present himself to thetreasury on the sixth day of this month he will receive back thethousand dollars he did deposit as a forfeit. Adios, senor.' "The General and the bay man bowed themselves out, and I bowed asoften as they did. "And when the carriage rolls away through the sand I bows once more,deeper than ever, till my hat touches the ground. But this time 'twasnot intended for them. For, over their heads, I saw the old flagfluttering in the breeze above the consul's roof; and 'twas to it Imade my profoundest salute."


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