While there meditating upon my trials, a pedestrian stopped and listened to my sixteen complaints. He seemed much amused, and suggested that if I would hang a penny before the donkey's nose he might follow the cent. A practical idea at once came to mind, and when, soon afterward, we reached a farm house, I put my idea to the test. I purchased some apples, and suspended one from a bough secured to the saddle and reaching over the donkey's head. The scheme worked admirably. Mac pursued the bobbing, swinging fruit at such a speed that he was nearly winded when we reached town, having manipulated his short legs to the velocity of two and one-third miles an hour.
We reached town shortly after five. The village is nicely situated high on the banks of the Hudson, and some of its residents have a beautiful view of the river, while others see nothing more picturesque than a stone wall. Sing Sing, to use the more familiar name, is the seat of an extensive prison, patronized by sojourners from all parts of the world and heavily endowed, being backed by the wealth of the State.
A local organization, the Sing Sing Steamer Company, invited me to its monthly dinner that evening, and, to my surprise and gratitude, purchased with a sealed envelope one of "our" pictures for the club rooms. I don't think it a good custom to buy a pig in a poke, but this time the pig was fat and healthy, and I found myself several dollars richer.
Next morning I bought a revolver, for, as I had to employ the larger part of the day in making sales and working my wits in a multitude of ways to keep my ship from stranding and the crew from starving, I was often compelled to travel long into the night and required some more handy weapon than a rifle for defence against pirates.
The newspapers generally heralded my coming, often greatly magnifying my successes, and I felt that the hard times, which the country at large was suffering, made such a thing as a hold-up not only possible but imminent any night.
Having received an invitation to visit the State Prison, I set out in the forenoon to find it, and a policeman (a very proper person, by the way), guided me to that famous hostelry. Macaroni also was invited, but the affrighted animal declined to enter the prison gates. Whether he thought he saw a drove of zebras, or was repelled by a guilty conscience, I know not, but, falling back in a sitting posture, he threw his ears forward and brayed loudly.