Tobin's Palm

by O. Henry

　　

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Tobin and me, the two of us, went down to Coney one day, for therewas four dollars between us, and Tobin had need of distractions.For there was Katie Mahorner, his sweetheart, of County Sligo, lostsince she started for America three months before with two hundreddollars, her own savings, and one hundred dollars from the sale ofTobin's inherited estate, a fine cottage and pig on the BogShannaugh. And since the letter that Tobin got saying that she hadstarted to come to him not a bit of news had he heard or seen ofKatie Mahorner. Tobin advertised in the papers, but nothing could befound of the colleen.So, to Coney me and Tobin went, thinking that a turn at the chutesand the smell of the popcorn might raise the heart in his bosom. ButTobin was a hardheaded man, and the sadness stuck in his skin. Heground his teeth at the crying balloons; he cursed the movingpictures; and, though he would drink whenever asked, he scorned Punchand Judy, and was for licking the tintype men as they came.So I gets him down a side way on a board walk where the attractionswere some less violent. At a little six by eight stall Tobin halts,with a more human look in his eye."'Tis here," says he, "I will be diverted. I'll have the palm of mehand investigated by the wonderful palmist of the Nile, and see ifwhat is to be will be."Tobin was a believer in signs and the unnatural in nature. Hepossessed illegal convictions in his mind along the subjects of blackcats, lucky numbers, and the weather predictions in the papers.We went into the enchanted chicken coop, which was fixed mysteriouswith red cloth and pictures of hands with lines crossing 'em like arailroad centre. The sign over the door says it is Madame Zozo theEgyptian Palmist. There was a fat woman inside in a red jumper withpothooks and beasties embroidered upon it. Tobin gives her ten centsand extends one of his hands. She lifts Tohin's hand, which is ownbrother to the hoof of a drayhorse, and examines it to see whether'tis a stone in the frog or a cast shoe he has come for."Man," says this Madame Zozo, "the line of your fate shows--""Tis not me foot at all," says Tobin, interrupting. "Sure, 'tis nobeauty, but ye hold the palm of me hand.""The line shows," says the Madame, "that ye've not arrived at yourtime of life without bad luck. And there's more to come. The moundof Venus--or is that a stone bruise?--shows that ye've been in love.There's been trouble in your life on account of your sweetheart.""'Tis Katie Mahorner she has references with," whispers Tobin to mein a loud voice to one side."I see," says the palmist, "a great deal of sorrow and tribulationwith one whom ye cannot forget. I see the lines of designation pointto the letter K and the letter M in her name.""Whist!" says Tobin to me, "do ye hear that?""Look out," goes on the palmist, "for a dark man and a light woman;for they'll both bring ye trouble. Ye'll make a voyage upon thewater very soon, and have a financial loss. I see one line thatbrings good luck. There's a man coming into your life who will fetchye good fortune. Ye'll know him when ye see him by his crookednose.""Is his name set down?" asks Tobin. "'Twill be convenient in the wayof greeting when he backs up to dump off the good luck.""His name," says the palmist, thoughtful looking, "is not spelled outby the lines, but they indicate 'tis a long one, and the letter 'o'should be in it. There's no more to tell. Good-evening. Don'tblock up the door.""'Tis wonderful how she knows," says Tobin as we walk to the pier.As we squeezed through the gates a nigger man sticks his lightedsegar against Tobin's ear, and there is trouble. Tobin hammers hisneck, and the women squeal, and by presence of mind I drag the littleman out of the way before the police comes. Tobin is always in anugly mood when enjoying himself.On the boat going back, when the man calls "Who wants the good-looking waiter?" Tobin tried to plead guilty, feeling the desire toblow the foam off a crock of suds, but when he felt in his pocket hefound himself discharged for lack of evidence. Somebody haddisturbed his change during the commotion. So we sat, dry, upon thestools, listening to the Dagoes fiddling on deck. If anything, Tobinwas lower in spirits and less congenial with his misfortunes thanwhen we started.On a seat against the railing was a young woman dressed suitable forred automobiles, with hair the colour of an unsmoked meerschaum. Inpassing by, Tobin kicks her foot without intentions, and, beingpolite to ladies when in drink, he tries to give his hat a twistwhile apologising. But he knocks it off, and the wind carries itoverboard.Tobin came back and sat down, and I began to look out for him, forthe man's adversities were becoming frequent. He was apt, whenpushed so close by hard luck, to kick the best dressed man he couldsee, and try to take command of the boat.Presently Tobin grabs my arm and says, excited: "Jawn," says he, "doye know what we're doing? We're taking a voyage upon the water.""There now," says I; "subdue yeself. The boat'l1 land in ten minutesmore.""Look," says he, "at the light lady upon the bench. And have yeforgotten the nigger man that burned me ear? And isn't the money Ihad gone--a dollar sixty-five it was?"I thought he was no more than summing up his catastrophes so as toget violent with good excuse, as men will do, and I tried to make himunderstand such things was trifles."Listen," says Tobin. "Ye've no ear for the gift of prophecy or themiracles of the inspired. What did the palmist lady tell ye out ofme hand? 'Tis coming true before your eyes. 'Look out,' says she,'for a dark man and a light woman; they'll bring ye trouble.' Haveye forgot the nigger man, though be got some of it back from me fist?Can ye show me a lighter woman than the blonde lady that was thecause of me hat falling in the water? And where's the dollar sixty-five I had in me vest when we left the shooting gallery?"The way Tobin put it,it did seem to corroborate the art ofprediction, though it looked to me that these accidents could happento any one at Coney without the implication of palmistry.Tobin got up and walked around on deck, looking close at thepassengers out of his little red eyes. I asked him theinterpretation of his movements. Ye never know what Tobin has in hismind until he begins to carry it out."Ye should know," says he, "I'm working out the salvation promisedby the lines in me palm. I'm looking for the crooked-nose man that'sto bring the good luck. 'Tis all that will save us. Jawn, did yeever see a straighter-nosed gang of hellions in the days of yourlife?"'Twas the nine-thirty boat, and we landed and walked up-town throughTwenty-second Street, Tobin being without his hat.On a street corner, standing under a gas-light and looking over theelevated road at the moon, was a man. A long man he was, dresseddecent, with a segar between his teeth, and I saw that his nose madetwo twists from bridge to end, like the wriggle of a snake. Tobinsaw it at the same time, and I heard him breathe hard like a horsewhen you take the saddle off. He went straight up to the man, andI went with him."Good-night to ye," Tobin says to the man. The man takes out hissegar and passes the compliments, sociable."Would ye hand us your name," asks Tobin, "and let us look at thesize of it? It may be our duty to become acquainted with ye.""My name" says the man, polite, "is Friedenhausman--Maximus G.Friedenhausman.""'Tis the right length," says Tobin. "Do you spell it with an 'o'anywhere down the stretch of it?""I do not," says the man."~Can~ ye spell it with an 'o'?" inquires Tobin, turning anxious."If your conscience," says the man with the nose, "is indisposedtoward foreign idioms ye might, to please yourself, smuggle theletter into the penultimate syllable.""'Tis well," says Tobin. "Ye're in the presence of Jawn Malone andDaniel Tobin.""Tis highly appreciated," says the man, with a bow. "And now sinceI cannot conceive that ye would hold a spelling bee upon the streetcorner, will ye name some reasonable excuse for being at large?""By the two signs," answers Tobin, trying to explain, "which yedisplay according to the reading of the Egyptian palmist from thesole of me hand, ye've been nominated to offset with good luck thelines of trouble leading to the nigger man and the blonde lady withher feet crossed in the boat, besides the financial loss of a dollarsixty-five, all so far fulfilled according to Hoyle."The man stopped smoking and looked at me."Have ye any amendments," he asks, "to offer to that statement, orare ye one too? I thought by the looks of ye ye might have him incharge.""None," says I to him, "except that as one horseshoe resemblesanother so are ye the picture of good luck as predicted by the handof me friend. If not, then the lines of Danny's hand may have beencrossed, I don't know.""There's two of ye," says the man with the nose, looking up and downfor the sight of a policeman. "I've enjoyed your company immense.Good-night."With that he shoves his segar in his mouth and moves across thestreet, stepping fast. But Tobin sticks close to one side of himand me at the other."What!" says he, stopping on the opposite sidewalk and pushing backhis hat; "do ye follow me? I tell ye," he says, very loud, "I'mproud to have met ye. But it is my desire to be rid of ye. I am offto me home.""Do," says Tobin, leaning against his sleeve. "Do be off to yourhome. And I will sit at the door of it till ye come out in themorning. For the dependence is upon ye to obviate the curse of thenigger man and the blonde lady and the financial loss of theone-sixty-five.""'Tis a strange hallucination," says the man, turning to me as a morereasonable lunatic. "Hadn't ye better get him home?""Listen, man," says I to him. "Daniel Tobin is as sensible as heever was. Maybe he is a bit deranged on account of having drinkenough to disturb but not enough to settle his wits, but he is nomore than following out the legitimate path of his superstitions andpredicaments, which I will explain to you." With that I relates thefacts about the palmist lady and how the finger of suspicion pointsto him as an instrument of good fortune. "Now, understand," Iconcludes, "my position in this riot. I am the friend of me friendTobin, according to me interpretations. 'Tis easy to be a friend tothe prosperous, for it pays; 'tis not hard to be a friend to thepoor, for ye get puffed up by gratitude and have your picture printedstanding in front of a tenement with a scuttle of coal and an orphanin each hand. But it strains the art of friendship to be true friendto a born fool. And that's what I'm doing," says I, "for, in myopinion, there's no fortune to be read from the palm of me hand thatwasn't printed there with the handle of a pick. And, though ye'vegot the crookedest nose in New York City, I misdoubt that all thefortune-tellers doing business could milk good luck from ye. But thelines of Danny's hand pointed to ye fair, and I'll assist him toexperiment with ye until he's convinced ye're dry."After that the man turns, sudden, to laughing. He leans against acorner and laughs considerable. Then he claps me and Tobin on thebacks of us and takes us by an arm apiece."'Tis my mistake," says he. "How could I be expecting anything sofine and wonderful to be turning the corner upon me? I came nearbeing found unworthy. Hard by," says he, "is a cafe, snug andsuitable for the entertainment of idiosyncrasies. Let us go thereand have drink while we discuss the unavailability of thecategorical."So saying, he marched me and Tobin to the back room of a saloon, andordered the drinks, and laid the money on the table. He looks at meand Tobin like brothers of his, and we have the segars."Ye must know," says the man of destiny, "that me walk in life is onethat is called the literary. I wander abroad be night seekingidiosyncrasies in the masses and truth in the heavens above. When yecame upon me I was in contemplation of the elevated road inconjunction with the chief luminary of night. The rapid transit ispoetry and art: the moon but a tedious, dry body, moving by rote.But these are private opinions, for, in the business of literature,the conditions are reversed. 'Tis me hope to be writing a book toexplain the strange things I have discovered in life.""Ye will put me in a book," says Tobin, disgusted; "will ye put mein a book?""I will not," says the man, "for the covers will not hold ye. Notyet. The best I can do is to enjoy ye meself, for the time is notripe for destroying the limitations of print. Ye would lookfantastic in type. All alone by meself must I drink this cup of joy.But, I thank ye, boys; I am truly grateful.""The talk of ye," says Tobin, blowing through his moustache andpounding the table with his fist, "is an eyesore to me patience.There was good luck promised out of the crook of your nose, but yebear fruit like the bang of a drum. Ye resemble, with your noise ofbooks, the wind blowing through a crack. Sure, now, I would bethinking the palm of me hand lied but for the coming true of thenigger man and the blonde lady and--""Whist!" says the long man; "would ye be led astray by physiognomy?Me nose will do what it can within bounds. Let us have these glassesfilled again, for 'tis good to keep idiosyncrasies well moistened,they being subject to deterioration in a dry moral atmosphere."So, the man of literature makes good, to my notion, for he pays,cheerful, for everything, the capital of me and Tobin being exhaustedby prediction. But Tobin is sore, and drinks quiet, with the redshowing in his eye.By and by we moved out, for 'twas eleven o'clock, and stands a bitupon the sidewalk. And then the man says he must be going home, andinvites me and Tobin to walk that way. We arrives on a side streettwo blocks away where there is a stretch of brick houses with highstoops and iron fences. The man stops at one of them and looks upat the top windows which he finds dark."'Tis me humble dwelling," says he, "and I begin to perceive by thesigns that me wife has retired to slumber. Therefore I will venturea bit in the way of hospitality. 'Tis me wish that ye enter thebasement room, where we dine, and partake of a reasonablerefreshment. There will be some fine cold fowl and cheese and abottle or two of ale. Ye will be welcome to enter and eat, for I amindebted to ye for diversions."The appetite and conscience of me and Tobin was congenial to theproposition, though 'twas sticking hard in Danny's superstitions tothink that a few drinks and a cold lunch should represent the goodfortune promised by the palm of his hand."Step down the steps," says the man with the crooked nose, "and Iwill enter by the door above and let ye in. I will ask the new girlwe have in the kitchen," says he, "to make ye a pot of coffee todrink before ye go. 'Tis fine coffee Katie Mahorner makes for agreen girl just landed three months. Step in," says the man, "andI'll send her down to ye."

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