Read Online Cold April by Phyllis A. Humphrey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Phyllis A. Humphrey
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having heard the conversation, he added, “It’ll be a different matter later, when we get closer to New York. Then everyone will want us to send Marconigrams.”
“ Is sending ... er ... Marconigrams another service provided by the White Star Line?” Richard asked.
“ Oh, no.” The first man, whose name badge identified him as Harold Bride, spoke proudly. “We work for the Marconi Company, not the ship’s owners.”
“ Of course,” the other man, whose badge read Jack Phillips, commented, “we do forward any message that comes in for the captain or crew members, but there’s no telephone between here and the bridge, so we must hand-deliver it.” He paused. “The passengers are our first concern, and we must deliver their messages as well.”
“ Do you deliver them yourselves?”
“ Oh, no. The purser gives incoming Marconigrams to the stewards to deliver.”
Operator Bride spoke up. “Would you like to send another message, sir?”
Another message? Richard thought of his employer, Lord Wheatly, back in London. It might be a good thing to send him a message announcing he was on board the ship sailing across the Atlantic. “Perhaps I shall.”
“ Sit here, sir.” Phillips offered his unused chair. “Here’s a pad you may write your message on and then you can watch us send it in Morse code as well.”
* * *
Beth gave some of her and Kathleen’s clothing to the steward, who explained that there was no laundry service on board but agreed to press and return them the next morning. She wished she had asked Richard if he needed any of his things pressed but decided the next day would be soon enough. With the fast service the steward promised, there should be time.
Reading her book still didn’t appeal to her, however, so she left the cabin and wandered down the corridor to the Grand Staircase. This time she went down to C Deck and found herself surrounded by signs indicating second-class accommodations. The corridor led to a large public seating area. Surprisingly, it was full of people, most of them standing around a large open space in the center of the room. Even more surprising, a magician entertained them. She took a place near the door and watched.
The magician was a handsome young man with an unruly mass of sandy hair. He wore a worn black tailcoat and striped trousers. To the delight of the crowd, he performed several clever tricks with decks of playing cards. Then he asked for coins from members of the audience and made them disappear and reappear. He even seemed to make off with a pound note, but after pretending it was lost forever, he reproduced it in the pocket of the very man who had provided it. Everyone laughed and applauded.
Beth saw him place a tall black silk hat on a small table, and she wondered if he would produce a rabbit or dove. Then, remembering they were on a ship, she decided he had probably not brought along either rabbits or doves. Instead, after showing everyone the hat was empty, he proceeded to extract an exceedingly long string of colored scarves, all knotted together.
After bowing to the crowd, he put the hat on the floor in front of him, removed his coat and, asking some of the onlookers to move back a bit, did a series of somersaults, cartwheels, backflips and other acrobatic stunts. Donning wooden stilts, he walked about as easily as anyone in normal boots, even dancing and doing flips. Next, he bent his body into unbelievable positions and snaked his way into a square box that didn’t appear large enough for a medium-sized dog, much less an entire grown man.
Many people in the audience threw coins into his hat, and Beth, who had no purse with her, felt guilty for enjoying the performance without paying. She slipped out the door, retraced her steps to the corridor, and returned to her own deck.
She barely had time to settle into her cabin chair when the corridor door suddenly burst open.
Richard stood on the threshold. “Is Kathleen here?”
“
“ Is sending ... er ... Marconigrams another service provided by the White Star Line?” Richard asked.
“ Oh, no.” The first man, whose name badge identified him as Harold Bride, spoke proudly. “We work for the Marconi Company, not the ship’s owners.”
“ Of course,” the other man, whose badge read Jack Phillips, commented, “we do forward any message that comes in for the captain or crew members, but there’s no telephone between here and the bridge, so we must hand-deliver it.” He paused. “The passengers are our first concern, and we must deliver their messages as well.”
“ Do you deliver them yourselves?”
“ Oh, no. The purser gives incoming Marconigrams to the stewards to deliver.”
Operator Bride spoke up. “Would you like to send another message, sir?”
Another message? Richard thought of his employer, Lord Wheatly, back in London. It might be a good thing to send him a message announcing he was on board the ship sailing across the Atlantic. “Perhaps I shall.”
“ Sit here, sir.” Phillips offered his unused chair. “Here’s a pad you may write your message on and then you can watch us send it in Morse code as well.”
* * *
Beth gave some of her and Kathleen’s clothing to the steward, who explained that there was no laundry service on board but agreed to press and return them the next morning. She wished she had asked Richard if he needed any of his things pressed but decided the next day would be soon enough. With the fast service the steward promised, there should be time.
Reading her book still didn’t appeal to her, however, so she left the cabin and wandered down the corridor to the Grand Staircase. This time she went down to C Deck and found herself surrounded by signs indicating second-class accommodations. The corridor led to a large public seating area. Surprisingly, it was full of people, most of them standing around a large open space in the center of the room. Even more surprising, a magician entertained them. She took a place near the door and watched.
The magician was a handsome young man with an unruly mass of sandy hair. He wore a worn black tailcoat and striped trousers. To the delight of the crowd, he performed several clever tricks with decks of playing cards. Then he asked for coins from members of the audience and made them disappear and reappear. He even seemed to make off with a pound note, but after pretending it was lost forever, he reproduced it in the pocket of the very man who had provided it. Everyone laughed and applauded.
Beth saw him place a tall black silk hat on a small table, and she wondered if he would produce a rabbit or dove. Then, remembering they were on a ship, she decided he had probably not brought along either rabbits or doves. Instead, after showing everyone the hat was empty, he proceeded to extract an exceedingly long string of colored scarves, all knotted together.
After bowing to the crowd, he put the hat on the floor in front of him, removed his coat and, asking some of the onlookers to move back a bit, did a series of somersaults, cartwheels, backflips and other acrobatic stunts. Donning wooden stilts, he walked about as easily as anyone in normal boots, even dancing and doing flips. Next, he bent his body into unbelievable positions and snaked his way into a square box that didn’t appear large enough for a medium-sized dog, much less an entire grown man.
Many people in the audience threw coins into his hat, and Beth, who had no purse with her, felt guilty for enjoying the performance without paying. She slipped out the door, retraced her steps to the corridor, and returned to her own deck.
She barely had time to settle into her cabin chair when the corridor door suddenly burst open.
Richard stood on the threshold. “Is Kathleen here?”
“
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