The rag-picker; or, Bound and free

Front matter

CORNELL

UNIVERSITY

LIBRARY

Preface

THE pages which follow are a record of facts, simply, from the experience of one who has been the eye and ear-witness of the substance of this Look.

The author has had no occasion to " draw upon imagination" for the characters ; and several of the principal personages alluded to are of those who have lived and passed among us in the present century, here and elsewhere.

The object of the work is to aid in keeping alive the march of progress (though the means are admitted to be sufficiently humble), that is now current at the North, the South, the East, and the West of our land ; and to " point a moral" (in passing) through the history of those herein named, who have suffered from the abuses portrayed.

The aim of the writer will have been attained if a single heart may be touched and turned from the pursuit of the manifest errors that surround the people of this country. If the perusal of this vol-

VI PREFACE.

ume shall influence a single individual to labor more zealously and more fervently toward removing from our legal and social system the dark l)lots that now unfortunately stain them, I shall not have put forth my hand in vain. And if the truthful history embodied herein — the history of suffering and wrong that finds many a parallel, even in this " enhghtened day," at the North and the South — shall cause the erring or the oppressive to repent, and " see themselves as others see them," some small share of common benefit will have been effected by this simple narrative.

In the humble hope that good may result from this effort, that the unfortunate may find a word of consolation within its images, and that it may serve in some measure to urge the friends of freedom and reform to more earnest and constant endeavors for the improvement and weal of suffering humanity among us — the work is submitted, in trust and good will, by

THE AUTHOR.

Boston, 1855.

CONTENTS,

CHAPTER I. PAGE MOENINS AT THE JuNK-SlOEE IT

CHAPTER H.

The Buenino 21

CHAPTER in.

The Deliverance 2G

CHAPTER IV.

The Little Steaqolees, 33

CHAPTER V.

The "WiLLiua Slave 39

CHAPTER VI.

' The Good bib TouNa" 13

Vln CONTENTS,

CHAPTER Vn.

PAGE

Anthou"t Brittan 47

CHAPTER Vin.

Tub Elopemext 53

CHAPTER IX.

The Ellson Family 58

CHAPTER X.

A Minister of Meeoy 66

CHAPTER XI.

The I.n'valid and her Babes H

CHAPTER XH.

Bedlam i-j

CHAPTER XIH.

A Surprise g^

CHAPTER XIV.

The Explanation 93

(JHAPTER XV.

A Uat op Hope 99

CONTENTS. ix

CHAPTER XVI.

PACE

The TJnweloomb Visitors 105

CHAPTER XVn.

The Aeeest 112

CHAPTER XVm.

A liEflAL Faroe 118

CHAPTER XIX.

TONBT AND CaBEIE 122

CHAPTER XX.

The Two Slates .- 130

CHAPTER XXI.

The Goldsmith's Charity 138

CHAPTER XXH.

The Euse and the Escape 146

CHAPTER XXm.

A Lowly Death-Bed 154

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Pauper's Grate 160

X CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXV.

PAGE

A Homeless Bird 16*

CHAPTER XXVI.

The Lunatic Mother 16f

CHAPTER XXVn.

Anthony Bhutan's Ward 171

CHAPTER XXVni.

A PEAOBFUI MESSENaER 175

CHAPTER XXIX.

The Wanderers 180

CHAPTER XXX.

Annie Ellson's Dream 185

CHAPTER XXXI.

The Strange Restoration 190

CHAPTER XXXn.

The Debtor in Prison 194

CHAPTER XXXm.

A JOTFDL MEETma 201

CONTENTS. xi

CHAPTER XXXIV.

PAGE

DATLTOHT BREAKINa 206

CHAPTEE XXXV.

The Theodolite Makee 210

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Nappo Dusoc 215

CHAPTER XXXVH.

BeITTAN'S EJENTDOKT HoMB 219

CHAPTER XXXVIH.

A Questionable Invdstment 223

CHAPTER XXXTX .

The Catastrophe 228

CHAPTER XL.

A New Acquaintance 234

CHAPTER XLI.

Difference of Opinion 239

CHAPTER XLH.

The RECoaNiTioN 244

SU CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XLm.

PAQH

Aotd Lano Syne 250

CHAPTER XLIV.

NAPPO AND TONBT 254

CHAPTER XLV.

A Steusgle foe Life 262

CHAPTER XLVI.

A Debt of Honoe Settled 261

CHAPTER XLVn.

The Two Quadeoons 271

CHAPTER XLVm.

The Tables Tukning 219

CHAPTER XLIX.

The Overseer's Retensb 288

CHAPTER L.

A Secret Interview

CHAPTER LI.

The Guardian's Proposal , 299

OONTENTB. 3011

CHAPTER HI.

TwoWeonss sometimes make One Eioht 305

CHAPTER Lm, The Stolen Child 312

CHAPTER LIV.

CHAPTER LV.

Koba'S Depabtitbe 321

CHAPTER LVI.

Beittan and ms " Peiend" 32G

CHAPTER LVn.

Jdme's PAETma Advice 333

CHAPTER LIX.

QuBEiES, Doubts, and Feaes 346

CHAPTER LX.

Passins the Rubicon 353

XIV CONTENTS.

CHAPTER LXI.

PAGE

News from the Absentees 359

CHAPTER LXH.

The Ellson's at Home 369

CHAPTER LXm.

" Silvbhpool" 375

CHAPTER LXr\^.

Annie, Henrt, and Tonet 382

CHAPTER LXV.

Speculation and Peomise SSt

CHAPTER LXVI.

A Collision 392

CHAPTER LXVn.

Father and Daughter 39q

CHAPTER LXVin.

" A Man Ovbeboabd" 40o

CHAPTER LXIX.

The New Home of Tonet and Julie 403

CONTENTS. XV

CHAPTER LXX.

The New Propbietoe and the Old 406

CHAPTER LXXI.

A Happy New Tear 411

CHAPTER LXXTT.

The Rag-Piokee's Stobt 411

CHAPTER LXXm.

The Conclusion. 421

THE RAG-PICKER.

CHAPTEE I.

MORNING AT THE J U N K - S T B E .

"There is a variety of these little trades, and industries, which derive their chief means of life from the wants and luxuries of the Boulevards. You will see an individual moving about, at all hours of the night, silent and active, and seeing the smallest bit of paper in the dark, where you could see nothing, picking it up and pitching it, with amazing dexterity. Into a basket tied to his shoulder ; with a cat-like walk, being every where and nowhere at the same time ; stirring up the rubbish of every nook and gutter of the street, under your very nose. This is the Rag-picker. Ho is a very important individual. He stands at the head of the ' little trades,' and is looked up to with envy by all the others."

The gray streak of daybreak was just visible in the far-off east, upon a clear spring morning in the year 18 — , and very few persons save the earliest risers — the watchmen, the most ambitious of the mechanics in the neighborhood, and a well known straggler or two — were astir.

At the lower end of a narrow lane that led from one of the principal streets in Boston, down to the wharves at the northerly extremity of the city, a dimly-burning light could be seen. The curious observer, who might feel desirous to inform himself more particularly in reference to the surroundings of this indifferent luminary, could have learned that it stood upon the head of an iron-bound cask, in a small junk-shop, the proprietor of which, if he ever slept at all, did so when ordinary mortals would least suspect it.

The individual spoken of was now wide awake, and awaiting, in momentary expectation, the arrival of certain of his agents, who would shortly report themselves at this " bin," ■where were collected, in piles about the low rooms, huge quantities of old rags, junk, fragments of iron, lead, pumps, blocks, and every conceivable vai'iety of trash and rubbish, good, bad, and indifferent. He was a parsimonious being, and his eccentric manner was peculiarly noticeable when he had occasion to speak, for he articulated vi ith curious brevity, and seemed anxious, at all times, to say no more than was absolutely necessary ; an aged man, too — plainly fifty years old, or more, llu had been a jrrofessioiixd rag-picker for a long period, until ;it last, having acquired a small sum of surplus capital, he hired this shop, gave up the more laborious part of his calling, and became the receiver of refuse collected by others, who followed this precarious and questionable avocation. This individual was an adept in the business he had chosen, and his long experience in the trade rendered him a shrewd and skillful manager. For many a year he had enjoyed rare opportunities to study human character, in all its phases, from that of the possessor of lordly wealth, to the veriest scidlion at the curb-stone ; and he had not been an idle observer of men and manners, as they pass^jd before him. No one knew aught of him, howevei-, save what they saw from day to day; he concerned himself, apparently, with no one'.s affairs beyond his own sphere ; and s.j he li\ cd on, unmolested, uncared for, and alone, from year's end to year's end

MORNING AT THE JUNK STORE. 19

The day broke, fairly, at length, and first one and then another of Ids host of employees straggled in, each with the products of his or her previous four-and-twenty hours' wanderings, and a motly band they proved !

A popular writer avers that the Parisian rag-picker " is, in matter, what Pythagoras was in mind ; and his transformar tions are scarcely less curious than those of the Samian sage." But the business of the American rag-picker seems to embrace even a more varied and extensive field of mercantile operations ; and he improves vastly upon his Old World original, inasmuch as, while being quite as attentive to the raggathering, legitimately, he is, also, no less cai'eful to possess himself, en passant, of every thing nameable, from which he can hope to realize the smallest possible profit, whether it be rags, paper, iron, copper, lead, silver — or, indeed, any thing bearing the slightest commercial or merchantable value. And thus the more modern chiffonnier enlarges his sphere of usefulness in transformations, far beyond the capacity or the accompUshment of his ancient prototype, while the profession, at the same time (in this country), is not limited, strictly, either to sex or materiel.

The throng who came to and depai-ted from the old junk-shop, on the morning referred to, were of every age and gender and the shade of color requisite to gain them access to the attention of the wiry old receiver, seemed entirely unimportant, for there were black and white, as well as old and youno-, great and small, and no questions were asked in reference to where they hailed from, or who they belonged to. In the recognition of his attaches, the ancient rag-picker desired no 'certificate of previous character ; and he obtruded no qiiestions as to the antecedents of those whom lie chanced to fall upon in the way of trade.

One by one they approached the man who took from them, daily, the contents of their sacks, and who paid them down, iu ready silver, the price of their slovenly booty. The rags were duly assorted, and thrust into larger bags, or stored in the waste-room ; the bits of iron hoops and nails, and broken horse-shoes, etc., were placed in the great tubs, or corners ; the ropes and twine, and cords, were coiled up according to size and length ; the copper and brass, and lead fragments, were disposed of upon appropriate shelves. The paying off succeeded, and the happy possessors of twenty, forty, or fifty cents, in shining coin, departed with lightened bags and equally hghtened hearts, to pursue the same round of duty, and to return upon the succeeding day for a similar purpose, after meeting with greater or less success, as the event might prove.

Though rough and forbidding in exterior, this strange old man possessed a warm heart, naturally ; yet he was the very last man in the world to encourage, directly or indirectly, the slightest approach to indolence. The really needy had often been secretly benefited through his instrumentality, but his charity was never known to others, for he selected the objects upon which it was bestowed with scrupulous care.

The world at large scoffed at him and his calling. But he smiled at this, and was content that he was then compelled to ask no favors at the hands of his fellows. He was singularly rugged in constitution, and lir.vino- been for years previously inured to all sorts of weather, and to all kinds of harsh treatment, he snapped his fingers at opposition, and pursued the even tenor of his way, as if his course lay always in the sunshine.

Chapter II. The Burning

Did you say all 1 All— At one fell swoop ?

The rag-picker was old. He had no children, no family, no dependencies, of any name or nature. He had accumulated what property he had by means of " hard knocks," and a lifetime of labor. He watched the comers and goers that constantly frequented his shop, and hoped to meet with some one, sooner or later, among the horde of people he met, upon whom he could rely, and who might be worthy to succeed him, perhaps, when he should be called away from earthly things. But for years he looked and watched in vain.

He was a scrupulously honest man, ingenious and sidllful, but careless in his dealings and in his mode of life. For one so situated, this might, at first sight, seem a paradoxical assertion, yet he had found, in a life's experience, that even a rag-picker could be a man of integrity ; and as he had none to provide for but himself, he did not exert the talent that he innately possessed.

Never, to his knowledge, had he been the receiver of the first farthing's worth of property, either, that the seller did not come honestly in possession of. Tliere was no wavering in his integi'ity, and he never saw the necessity of over-reaching those with whom he was so constantly brought in contact. In his bargaining, he was shrewd and close ; but in all his transactions he did not forget his moral responsibility to his Maker, and to his fellow men.

He made no pretensions to, or professions of, religion, however. His time was passed, almost exclusively, at his junkstore, and he was rarely seen away fi'om its immediate neighborhood. Few piersons seemed to take any interest in him, and he could be found at almost any and every hour of the day or night in his little old shop, adjusting his second-hand wares, and arranging them for preservation or for future disposal.

Directly over the shop, the old rag-picker rented two small rooms, and in the rear of the building kept his wardrobe and cash, under look and key. When he did sleep, he occupied a mattrass in another of these back rooms, and this chamber was the repository, also, of such articles of small bulk, but greater value, as he chanced to purchase, from time to time, and which he lodged here for better security.

At the time he is now introduced to the reader, his stock of Hghter materials, such as rag^, old rope, canvas, paper, and the like, was unusually large. The junk-shop was crowded, and he had filled it up rapidly, of late, though he had arranged for the disposal of most of it, and it was already weighed up and packed in bags, preparatory to being removed from his premises.

He had paid off the last of his dependents, who had departed like the rest, and the sun was rising gloriously in the east. The wind was blowing fresh from the westward, and

THEBDBNING. 23

the rag-picker extinguislied his lamp, as usual, and mounted the stairs that led to his little room, overhead — first securing his shop-door on the inside — with the intention of getting a nap before the time when business usually commenced upon the wharves and vicinity.

His form was soon extended upon his low pallet, and almost as quickly, from habit, he was soundly sleeping. The night guardians had just left their beats for home, and very few persons were moving in the streets.

The old man dreamed. He dreamed of his late success in trade, and he saw, in his fancy, generous heaps of silver and gold within his grasp. He smiled as he thought of the hardships he had passed through triumphantly, and as the good deeds he had secretly performed arose before his imagination again.

And then there suddenly appeared a cloud before him ; a heavy, portentous darkness succeeded ; he was deeply troubled, at first, but still he slept soundly. He gazed upon the forbidding mass, and its threatening blackness alarmed him. He struggled to avoid it, for it seemed, at last, about to burst upon his head ! He trembled, and writhed, and shrank from its approach ; but on it came, pressing him to the earth, and buiying the poor old man, almost, in its opaqueness. His lungs were obstructed, perspiration stood in huge drops upon his great high forehead, and, with a maddening shriek, he leaped from his pallet and awoke — to find himself completely enveloped in a thick cloud of heated smoke, that had well-nigh sufibcated him as he slept !

The junk-shop was thoroughly on fire below, and it was vpith the greatest difficulty that he could draw his breath.

24 THE RAG-PICKEE.

He sprang to tlie stairway and partially opened tlie door, but the stairs were alive with crinlding, livid flames, and egress in that direction was impossible. He darted to thp only window in the little room, the sash of which he quickly raised, but the height was too great for him to attempt to jump thence to the groimd.

" Fire !" shouted the rag-picker, furiously ; and as the smoke had already been seen by a porter, who had recently arrived, and was just opening a store in the vicinity, the alarm was quickly circulated, and '■'■fire! fire!'''' fell from half a score of lips, almost at the same moment.

The old man was soon discovered, and a short ladder was placed against the side of the burning building by the man who had, fortunately, first heard the alarm. With a trembling step he placed his feet upon it, while the stout porter held it upon his shoulders as he descended ; and with an earnest " thank God !" for his escape, he fled from the heat of the flames, that were bursting from every quarter of the building, and found himself free from serious personal harm.

His silver watch, that hung by the window casement, he had not time to secure, even, so necessarily sudden was his retreat ; while his entire property, the accumulation of years and years of toil, and hardship, and economy, on the part of the frugal man, Avas entirely and irredeemably destroyed.

As he blew out his morning lamp, it was supposed that a spark must have fallen in among the tow or rope-yarns that were piled about, and such was the combustible nature of the materials in the shop, when once the fire had been ignited among them, that the destruction was fearfully rapid as well as morally certain !

THE BURNING. 20

He had been engaged in his present business over a score of years, and had never thought, scarcely, of such a thing ;!s an insurance policy ; or, if he had, he had never deemed sutli a provision of sufficient consequence to him to take one out on his property ! He was, himself, always in and about his premises ; he trimmed, lighted, and extinguished his lamp with his own hands ; the buildings in the vicinity were rarely or never lighted up, and he assumed his own risk, believing it to be next to impossible that he could ever be endangered by fire.

This procedure was, by no means, in accordance with the settled rule of action established in this man's shrewd career ; but he looked upon the sacrifice of the premium claimed for insurance as money needlessly thrown away, at least, in his instance ; and the result of this reasoning added an important item to the chain of bitter events in his checkered experience !

Nothing was saved, and the gray-headed rag-picker was

once more a beggar.

Chapter III. The Deliverance

Ho hath a tear for pity, and a hand

Open as day for mu'lting charity ;

Yet, notwithstanding — being incensed — he's^wi /

SiTAXESPEARE, HeirTy IV.

As is commonly tlie case, mider sucli circumstances, and especially in that locality; so noted for tlie great proportionate number of its children, the burning ruins drew together a crowd of little ones, whose parents or friends dwelt in the vicinity of the fire ; and before noon the bulk of the employees of the old ra^'-picki.r wore there, too ; some of them from a feeling- of sympathy f jr their late patron's loss, some with the offer of aid, others from natural curiosity, and not a few to pick up or steal what might fall in their way.

But the old man was already upon the qui vive. After the smoldering mass had settled down, and the worst of the smoke had begun to clcai' up, he enlisted the services of half a dozen of those upon whom he thought he could depend, and commenced to clear away the wreck. It was a slow process, however ; and after various attempts to remove some portion of the fallen and charred timbers, it was found that the heat was so great that it was impossible, with any degree of safety,

THE DELIVERANCE. 2V

to proceed. Not until the third day afterward was it found practicable for the old man to overturn the remains of his property.

Every thing that was ignitable had been destroyed, and the excessive and long-continued heat, underneath, had so melted and scorched the metals that they were not worth the trouble it would involve to rescue them. Still, the poor man struggled to extricate whatever seemed to be of the least prospective value ; and with one or two of his fi-iends, he drew out some few trifling articles that he contrived to preserve.

It had come to be nearly dai-k, and most of the lookers-on had departed, when the old man's attention was suddenly diverted from his work by hearing the screams of a child, beyond him, at the edge of the dock. The noise came from the lungs of a boy, some six or seven years old, who was shouting at the top of his voice, " Help, mister ! quick, quick ! she's drownded, she's drownded ! quick — she's di'ownded !"

And hasteningto the spot, he looked into the dock and saw the form of a little child, just sinking below the surface of the water.

Instantly throwing off hia hat and vest — for he had been at work all day in his shirt-sleeves — he sprang overboard, and quickly held the almost lifeless form of a sweet little girl in his grasp. He swam across the dock to a flight of old steps, at the opposite side, and soon reached terra firma again, with the child in his arms.

It turned out that the Httle straggler was more alarmed than injured, and with a little rubbing and coaxing she soon came to herself, though she was desperately frightened. As soon as she could be pacified, the old man brought her round to the other side of the pier, and said to the boy :

"How'd it happen?"

" She fell in, sir, she did."

" And what's her name 3"

" Carrie, sir."

" Carrie ? What else, besides Carrie ?"

" Carrie Ellson, sir."

" Where d' ye live ?" added the old man.

" In Cross street, sir."

" Are you her brother, too ?"

" Yes sir ; I'm Toney. Toney Ellson, sir.''

" Well, Toney, go home directly, and " —

" I darsn't, sir !" exclaimed the boy, as he took his sister's hand and began to attempt to smooth out her saturated dress ; "I darsn't, he'll— he '11 beat me so !"

" Who '11 beat you ?"

" My father, sir,'' and the tears began to fall from his eyes, in showers. " He'll beat me cos I come here, and then he'll beat me more cos I let Carrie fall in the dock. Oh, dear ! oh, dear !" continued the little fellow, mournfully, " I donno what to do. Carrie's oryin', too, and I — I — there he is .'" yelled Toney, in despair, as he looked around and suddenly discovered the form of his dreaded jsarent approaching them ; and " breaking ground," without further ceremony, he sjjrang away with the speed of a fox, up the wharf, lea\ing Carrie behind, and yelling at the top of his lungs, again, " I didn't do it, father ! I did n't, I did n't !" and was quickly out of sight and hearing.

" I'll fix you — see 'f I don't," muttered the man between his teeth, as Toney broke away. " See 'f I don't, then."

And approaching the trembling little girl, he seized her arm roughly, when, noticing her wet clothes, he exclaimed :

THE DELIVERAKCE. 29

" What the devil's this ? Where you bin, eh ? Didn't I tell you not tu ? Did n't I tell you so, eh ? Home with you, now. I'll see 'f I can't make you mind," he continued, rudely pushing the poor little creature on before him ; and the old man was pained to observe that this stranger was deeply in his cups !

" Are you the father of 'em ?" asked the old rag-picker, respectfully, of the other.

" Yes, I am. Have you any — any thing 'special to say against that, eh — ole cockalorum?"

" No, sir. I just saved that little girl's life."

" Did any body — ^hic — ask you to ?" queried the man, insolently and ignorantly.

" She was drowning in the dock, yonder. You see I'm as wet as she is. I sprang in and rescued her" —

" I told 'em not to come here. Serve 'em right ! They '11 look out, next time. I'll fix 'em — see 'f I don't," insisted the poor inebriate, harshly, as he turned away, with his little weeping, terrified daughter clinging to him.

The rag-picker said nothing more, but moved up the dock, slowly, dripping, and shivering with cold, in the only suit of clothes he owned, at that moment, in the world. He gazed upon the smoldering ruin of his property, shook the salt water from his thin locks, and thought how poor he was, at that hour ! But as his eye caught the receding form of the miserable father, staggering homeward with that pretty, but frightened child, he could not avoid exclaiming : " Bad enough, to be sure ; bad enough ! but not so bad as that, thank G-od !"

The old man thrashed his arms upon his body, and stood up nearer to a portion of the still burning and heated ruins.

30 T H E E A G - P I C K E E .

to ■warm Ms chilled limbs, and to dry liis -vvet clothes. In his purse he had a few dollars yet, but this was all he had left in the world, save a stout heart and a willing hand. Securing his hat and vest, at length, he slowly wandered up the lane, turned into Cross street, and began to search for" a halting-place for the night, for he was sadly wearied with his past three days' exposure, and exertion.

As he passed along, he overheard a struggling, and the confused jargon of several voices, within a small tenement near him ; and as he halted to hsten, he thought he could distinguish the anxious entreaties of a female, and, amid all, the cries of children. Then he heard imprecations and threats, and harsh blows, and then a fall, and shrieks of terror.

The little boy who had accompanied the child to the dock, very well knew his father's disposition ; and, when he fled from the scene that had come so near proving fatal to his sister, he fearod to venture home, for he also knew what would succeed his arrival there, if his father were present. So, like the expeiieuceil general, who deemed the better part of valor to be discretion, he made a wide circuit in returning to the house, in the hope that, by such a delay, he would dodge his fractious parent, who did not pass much of his leisure in the companionship of his family. But Toney commit(i:d an error in his reckoning, for when he did a! live, his father was in waiting for him.

Lost to all parental feeling, long since, he tarried for no explanation, but at once commenced a terrible chastisement upon the little fellow, in the performance of which he was zealously engaged as the old rag-picker came up. A woman's

THE DELIVERANCE. 31

voice was heard in the midst of the melee, beseeching the inebriate to spare poor Toney, but evidently to no good purpose.

" It 's no business o' mine," muttered the old man, stopping at the half-opened door, " but" —

Following the dictates of his better nature, at the same moment, he sprang into the entry, thrust aside the flimsy screen that concealed the inner apartment, and mounted a short flight of stairs, where the confusion and quarrel was enacting. He seized the raving beUigerent in his stout arms, just as he was in the act of dealing poor Toney a furious blow with his clinched hand ; and before the offender had time to know how the act was accomplished, he found himself upon the sidewalk.

"Who 're you!" demanded the infuriated father, turning fiercely upon his assailant.

The light from the street lamp shone full in the rag-picker's fece, and the panic-stricken parent instantly recognized the person who had lately saved his daughter from drowning.

The old man only replied to his query in his usually laconic manner, by asking :

"Are you a father?''

But the peculiar emphasis of this question, the firm and unflinching bearing of the stranger, and the evidence which the erratic man had already experienced of his personal strength, had the effect of cowering him, for an instant ; and as they stood there, a watchman came up, leisurely. He stopped, looked at the excited oifender, whom he evidently knew, and said :