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+Project Gutenberg's Stories by American Authors, Volume 9, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Stories by American Authors, Volume 9
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 6, 2010 [EBook #31194]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES--AMERICAN AUTHORS, VOL 9 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Stories by American Authors
+
+VOLUME IX
+
+
+ _MARSE CHAN_
+ BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE
+
+ _MR. BIXBY'S CHRISTMAS VISITOR_
+ BY CHARLES S. GAGE
+
+ _ELI_
+ BY C. H. WHITE
+
+ _YOUNG STRONG OF "THE CLARION"_
+ BY MILICENT WASHBURN SHINN
+
+ _HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP_
+ BY CAPTAIN ROLAND T. COFFIN
+
+ "----_MAS HAS COME_"
+ BY LEONARD KIP
+
+ NEW YORK
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+ 1896
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1885, BY
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+
+
+
+
+_The Stories in this Volume are protected by copyright, and are
+printed here by authority of the authors or their representatives._
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Thos. N. Page]
+
+
+
+
+MARSE CHAN.
+
+A TALE OF OLD VIRGINIA.
+
+BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE.
+
+_Century Magazine April, 1884._
+
+
+One afternoon, in the autumn of 1872, I was riding leisurely down
+the sandy road that winds along the top of the water-shed between
+two of the smaller rivers of eastern Virginia. The road I was
+travelling, following "the ridge" for miles, had just struck me as
+most significant of the character of the race whose only avenue of
+communication with the outside world it had formerly been. Their once
+splendid mansions, now fast falling to decay, appeared to view from
+time to time, set back far from the road, in proud seclusion among
+groves of oak and hickory now scarlet and gold with the early frost.
+Distance was nothing to this people; time was of no consequence to
+them. They desired but a level path in life, and that they had,
+though the way was longer and the outer world strode by them as they
+dreamed.
+
+I was aroused from my reflections by hearing some one ahead of me
+calling, "Heah!--heah-whoo-oop, heah!"
+
+Turning the curve in the road, I saw just before me a negro standing,
+with a hoe and a watering-pot in his hand. He had evidently just
+gotten over the "worm-fence" into the road, out of the path which led
+zigzag across the "old field" and was lost to sight in the dense
+growth of sassafras. When I rode up, he was looking anxiously back
+down this path for his dog. So engrossed was he that he did not even
+hear my horse, and I reined in to wait until he should turn around and
+satisfy my curiosity as to the handsome old place half a mile off from
+the road.
+
+The numerous out-buildings and the large barns and stables told that
+it had once been the seat of wealth, and the wild waste of sassafras
+that covered the broad fields gave it an air of desolation that
+greatly excited my interest. Entirely oblivious of my proximity, the
+negro went on calling, "Whoo-oop, heah!" until along the path, walking
+very slowly and with great dignity, appeared a noble-looking old
+orange and white setter, gray with age, and corpulent with excessive
+feeding. As soon as he came in sight, his master began:
+
+"Yes, dat you! You gittin' deaf as well as bline, I s'pose! Kyarnt
+heah me callin', I reckon? Whyn't yo' come on, dawg?"
+
+The setter sauntered slowly up to the fence and stopped without even
+deigning a look at the speaker, who immediately proceeded to take the
+rails down, talking meanwhile:
+
+"Now, I got to pull down de gap, I s'pose! Yo' so sp'ilt yo' kyahn'
+hardly walk. Jes' ez able to git over it as I is! Jes' like white
+folks--t'ink 'cuz you's white and I's black, I got to wait on yo' all
+de time. Ne'm mine, I ain' gwi' do it!"
+
+The fence having been pulled down sufficiently low to suit his
+dogship, he marched sedately through, and, with a hardly perceptible
+lateral movement of his tail, walked on down the road. Putting up the
+rails carefully, the negro turned and saw me.
+
+"Sarvent, marster," he said, taking his hat off. Then, as if
+apologetically for having permitted a stranger to witness what was
+merely a family affair, he added: "He know I don' mean nothin' by what
+I sez. He's Marse Chan's dawg, an' he's so ole he kyahn git long no
+pearter. He know I'se jes' prodjickin' wid 'im."
+
+"Who is Marse Chan?" I asked; "and whose place is that over there--and
+the one a mile or two back--the place with the big gate and the carved
+stone pillars?"
+
+"Marse Chan," said the darkey, "he's Marse Channin'--my young marster;
+an' dem places--dis one's Weall's, an' de one back dyar wid de rock
+gate-pos's is ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. Dey don' nobody live dyar
+now, 'cep' niggers. Arfter de war some one or nudder bought our place,
+but his name done kind o' slipped me. I nuvver hearn on 'im befo'; I
+think dey's half-strainers. I don' ax none on 'em no odds. I lives
+down de road heah, a little piece, an' I jes' steps down of a evenin'
+and looks arfter de graves."
+
+"Well, where is Marse Chan?" I asked.
+
+"Hi! don' you know? Marse Chan, he went in de army. I wuz wid 'im. Yo'
+know he warn' gwine an' lef' Sam."
+
+"Will you tell me all about it?" I said, dismounting.
+
+Instantly, and as if by instinct, the darkey stepped forward and took
+my bridle. I demurred a little; but with a bow that would have honored
+old Sir Roger, he shortened the reins, and taking my horse from me,
+led him along.
+
+"Now tell me about Marse Chan," I said.
+
+"Lawd, marster, hit's so long ago, I'd a'most forgit all about it, ef
+I hedn' been wid him ever sence he wuz born. Ez 'tis, I remembers it
+jes' like 'twuz yistiddy. Yo' know Marse Chan an' me--we wuz boys
+togedder. I wuz older'n he wuz, jes' de same ez he wuz whiter'n me. I
+wuz born plantin' corn time, de spring arfter big Jim an' de six
+steers got washed away at de upper ford right down dyar b'low de
+quarters ez he wuz a bringin' de Chris'mas things home; an' Marse
+Chan, he warn' born tell mos' to der harves' arfter my sister Nancy
+married Cun'l Chahmb'lin's Torm, 'bout eight years arfterwards.
+
+"Well, when Marse Chan wuz born dey wuz de grettes' doin's at home you
+ever did see. De folks all hed holiday, jes' like in de Chris'mas. Ole
+marster (we didn' call 'im _ole_ marster tell arfter Marse Chan wuz
+born--befo' dat he wuz jes' de marster, so)--well, ole marster, his
+face fyar shine wid pleasure, an' all de folks wuz mighty glad, too,
+'cause dey all loved ole marster, and aldo' dey did step aroun' right
+peart when ole marster wuz lookin' at 'em, dyar warn' nyar han' on de
+place but what, ef he wanted anythin', would walk up to de back poach,
+an' say he warn' to see de marster. An' ev'ybody wuz talkin' 'bout de
+young marster, an' de maids an' de wimmens 'bout de kitchen wuz sayin'
+how 'twuz de purties' chile dey ever see; an' at dinner-time de mens
+(all on 'em hed holiday) come roun' de poach an' ax how de missis an'
+de young marster wuz, an' ole marster come out on de poach an' smile
+wus'n a 'possum, an' sez, 'Thankee! Bofe doin' fust rate, boys;' an'
+den he stepped back in de house, sort o' laughin' to hisse'f, an' in a
+minute he come out ag'in wid de baby in he arms, all wrapped up in
+flannens an' things, an' sez, 'Heah he is, boys.' All de folks den,
+dey went up on de poach to look at 'im, drappin' dey hats on de steps,
+an' scrapin' dey feets ez dey went up. An' pres'n'y ole marster,
+lookin' down at we all chil'en all packed togedder down deah like a
+parecel o' sheep-burrs, cotch sight o' _me_ (he knowed my name, 'cause
+I use' to hole he hoss fur 'im sometimes; but he didn' know all de
+chil'en by name, dey wuz so many on 'em), an' he sez, 'Come up heah.'
+So up I goes tippin', skeered like, an' old marster sez, 'Ain' you
+Mymie's son?' 'Yass, seh,' sez I. 'Well,' sez he, 'I'm gwine to give
+you to yo' young Marse Channin' to be his body-servant,' an' he put de
+baby right in my arms (it's de truth I'm tellin' you!), an' yo' jes'
+ought to a-heard de folks sayin', 'Lawd! marster, dat boy'll drap dat
+chile!' 'Naw, he won't,' sez marster; 'I kin trust 'im.' And den he
+sez: 'Now, Sam, from dis time you belong to yo' young Marse Channin';
+I wan' you to tek keer on 'im ez long ez he lives. You are to be his
+boy from dis time. An' now,' he sez, 'carry 'im in de house.' An' he
+walks arfter me an' opens de do's fur me, an' I kyars 'im in my arms,
+an' lays 'im down on de bed. An' from dat time I wuz tooken in de
+house to be Marse Channin's body-servant.
+
+"Well, you nuvver see a chile grow so. Pres'n'y he growed up right
+big, an' ole marster sez he must have some edication. So he sont 'im
+to school to ole Miss Lawry down dyar, dis side o' Cun'l Chahmb'lin's,
+an' I use' to go 'long wid 'im an' tote he books an' we all's snacks;
+an' when he larnt to read an' spell right good, an' got 'bout so-o
+big, old Miss Lawry she died, an' ole marster said he mus' have a man
+to teach 'im an' trounce 'im. So we all went to Mr. Hall, whar kep' de
+school-house beyant de creek, an' dyar we went ev'y day, 'cep'
+Sat'd'ys of co'se, an' sich days ez Marse Chan din' warn' go, an' ole
+missis begged 'im off.
+
+"Hit wuz down dyar Marse Chan fust took notice o' Miss Anne. Mr. Hall,
+he taught gals ez well ez boys, an' Cun'l Chahmb'lin he sont his
+daughter (dat's Miss Anne I'm talkin' about). She wuz a leetle bit o'
+gal when she fust come. Yo' see, her ma wuz dead, an' ole Miss Lucy
+Chahmb'lin, she lived wid her brudder an' kep' house for 'im; an' he
+wuz so busy wid politics, he didn' have much time to spyar, so he sont
+Miss Anne to Mr. Hall's by a 'ooman wid a note. When she come dat day
+in de school-house, an' all de chil'en looked at her so hard, she tu'n
+right red, an' tried to pull her long curls over her eyes, an' den put
+bofe de backs of her little han's in her two eyes, an' begin to cry to
+herse'f. Marse Chan he was settin' on de een' o' de bench nigh de do',
+an' he jes' reached out an' put he arm roun' her an' drawed her up to
+'im. An' he kep' whisperin' to her, an' callin' her name, an' coddlin'
+her; an' pres'n'y she took her han's down an' begin to laugh.
+
+"Well, dey 'peared to tek' a gre't fancy to each udder from dat time.
+Miss Anne she warn' nuthin' but a baby hardly, an' Marse Chan he wuz a
+good big boy 'bout mos' thirteen years ole, I reckon. Hows'ever, dey
+sut'n'y wuz sot on each udder an' (yo' heah me!) ole marster an' Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin dey 'peared to like it 'bout well ez de chil'en. Yo' see
+Cun'l Chahmb'lin's place j'ined ourn, an' it looked jes' ez natural
+fur dem two chil'en to marry an' mek it one plantation, ez it did fur
+de creek to run down de bottom from our place into Cun'l Chahmb'lin's.
+I don' rightly think de chil'en thought 'bout gittin' _married_, not
+den, no mo'n I thought 'bout marryin' Judy when she wuz a little gal
+at Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, runnin' 'bout de house, huntin' fur Miss Lucy's
+spectacles; but dey wuz good frien's from de start. Marse Chan he use'
+to kyar Miss Anne's books fur her ev'y day, an' ef de road wuz muddy
+or she wuz tired, he use' to tote her; an' 'twarn' hardly a day passed
+dat he didn' kyar her some'n' to school--apples or hick'y nuts, or
+some'n'. He wouldn' let none o' de chil'en tease her, nudder. Heh! One
+day, one o' de boys poked he finger at Miss Anne, an' arfter school
+Marse Chan he axed 'im 'roun' hine de school-house out o' sight, an'
+ef he didn' whop 'im!
+
+"Marse Chan, he wuz de peartes' scholar ole Mr. Hall hed, an' Mr. Hall
+he wuz mighty proud o' 'im. I don' think he use' to beat 'im ez much
+ez he did de udders, aldo' he wuz de head in all debilment dat went
+on, jes' ez he wuz in sayin' he lessons.
+
+"Heh! one day in summer, jes' 'fo' de school broke up, dyah come up a
+storm right sudden, an' riz de creek (dat one yo' cross' back yonder),
+an' Marse Chan he toted Miss Anne home on he back. He ve'y off'n did
+dat when de parf wuz muddy. But dis day when dey come to de creek, it
+had done washed all de logs 'way. 'Twuz still mighty high, so Marse
+Chan he put Miss Anne down, an' he took a pole an' waded right in. Hit
+took 'im long up to de shoulders. Den he waded back, an' took Miss
+Anne up on his head an' kyar'd her right over. At fust she wuz
+skeered; but he tol' her he could swim an' wouldn' let her git hu't,
+an' den she let 'im kyar her 'cross, she hol'in' his han's. I warn'
+'long dat day, but he sut'n'y did dat thing.
+
+"Ole marster he wuz so pleased 'bout it, he giv' Marse Chan a pony;
+an' Marse Chan rode 'im to school de day arfter he come, so proud, an'
+sayin' how he wuz gwine to let Anne ride behine 'im; an' when he come
+home dat evenin' he wuz walkin'. 'Hi! where's yo' pony?' said ole
+marster. 'I give 'im to Anne,' says Marse Chan. 'She liked 'im, an'--I
+kin walk.' 'Yes,' sez ole marster, laughin', 'I s'pose you's already
+done giv' her yo'se'f, an' nex' thing I know you'll be givin' her this
+plantation and all my niggers.'
+
+"Well, about a fortnight or sich a matter arfter dat, Cun'l Chahmb'lin
+sont over an' invited all o' we all over to dinner, an' Marse Chan wuz
+'spressly named in de note whar Ned brought; an' arfter dinner he made
+ole Phil, whar wuz his ker'ige-driver, bring roun' Marse Chan's pony
+wid a little side-saddle on 'im, an' a beautiful little hoss wid a
+bran'-new saddle an' bridle on 'im; an' he gits up an' meks Marse Chan
+a gre't speech, an' presents 'im de little hoss; an' den he calls Miss
+Anne, an' she comes out on de poach in a little ridin' frock, an' dey
+puts her on her pony, an' Marse Chan mounts his hoss, an' dey goes to
+ride, while de grown folks is a-laughin' an' chattin' an' smokin' dey
+cigars.
+
+"Dem wuz good ole times, marster--de bes' Sam ever see! Dey wuz, in
+fac'! Niggers didn' hed nothin' 't all to do--jes' hed to 'ten' to de
+feedin', an' cleanin' de hosses, an' doin' what de marster tell 'em to
+do; an' when dey wuz sick, dey had things sont 'em out de house, an'
+de same doctor come to see 'em whar 'ten' to de white folks when dey
+wuz po'ly. Dyar warn' no trouble nor nothin'.
+
+"Well, things tuk a change arfter dat. Marse Chan he went to de
+bo'din' school, whar he use' to write to me constant. Ole missis use'
+to read me de letters, an' den I'd git Miss Anne to read 'em ag'in to
+me when I'd see her. He use' to write to her too, an' she use' to
+write to him too. Den Miss Anne she wuz sont off to school too. An' in
+de summer time dey'd bofe come home, an' yo' hardly knowed whether
+Marse Chan lived at home or over at Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. He wuz over
+dyah constant. 'Twuz always ridin' or fishin' down dyah, in de river;
+or sometimes he' go over dyah, an' 'im an' she'd go out an' set in de
+yard onder de trees; she settin' up mekin' out she wuz knittin' some
+sort o' bright-cullored some'n', wid de grarss growin' all up 'g'inst
+her, an' her hat th'owed back on her neck, an' he readin' to her out
+books; an' sometimes dey'd bofe read out de same book, fust one an'
+den todder. I use' to see 'em! Dat wuz when dey wuz growin' up like.
+
+"Den ole marster he run for Congress, an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he wuz
+put up to run 'g'inst ole marster by de Dimicrats; but ole marster he
+beat 'im. Yo' know he wuz gwine do dat! Co'se he wuz! Dat made ole
+Cun'l Chahmb'lin mighty mad, and dey stopt visitin' each udder
+reg'lar, like dey had been doin' all 'long. Den Cun'l Chahmb'lin he
+sort o' got in debt, an' sell some o' he niggers, an' dat's de way de
+fuss begun. Dat's whar de lawsuit cum from. Ole marster he didn' like
+nobody to sell niggers, an' knowin' dat Cun'l Chahmb'lin wuz sellin'
+o' his, he writ an' offered to buy his M'ria an' all her chil'en,
+'cause she hed married our Zeek'yel. An' don' yo' t'ink, Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin axed ole marster mo' 'n th'ee niggers wuz wuth fur M'ria.
+Befo' old marster bought her, dough, de sheriff cum an' levelled on
+M'ria an' a whole parecel o' udder niggers. Ole marster he went to de
+sale, an' bid for 'em; but Cun'l Chahmb'lin he got some one to bid
+'g'inst ole marster. Dey wuz knocked out to ole marster dough, an' den
+dey hed a big lawsuit, an' ole marster wuz agwine to co't, off an' on,
+fur some years, till at lars' de co't decided dat M'ria belonged to
+ole marster. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin den wuz so mad he sued ole marster
+for a little strip o' lan' down dyah on de line fence, whar he said
+belonged to 'im. Ev'ybody knowed hit belonged to ole marster. Ef yo'
+go down dyah now, I kin show it to yo', inside de line fence, whar it
+hed done bin ever since long befo' ole marster wuz born. But Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin wuz a mons'us perseverin' man, an' ole marster he wouldn'
+let nobody run over 'im. No, dat he wouldn'! So dey wuz agwine down to
+co't about dat, fur I don' know how long, till ole marster beat 'im.
+
+"All dis time, yo' know, Marse Chan wuz a-goin' back'ads an' for'ads
+to college, an' wuz growed up a ve'y fine young man. He wuz a ve'y
+likely gent'man! Miss Anne she hed done mos' growed up, too--wuz
+puttin' her hyar up like ole missis use' to put hers up, an' 'twuz
+jes' ez bright ez de sorrel's mane when de sun cotch on it, an' her
+eyes wuz gre't big dark eyes, like her pa's, on'y bigger an' not so
+fierce, an' 'twarn' none o' de young ladies ez purty ez she wuz. She
+an' Marse Chan still set a heap o' sto' by one 'nudder, but I don'
+t'ink dey wuz easy wid each udder ez when he used to tote her home
+from school on his back. Marse Chan he use' to love de ve'y groun' she
+walked on, dough, in my 'pinion. Heh! His face 'twould light up
+whenever she come into chu'ch, or anywhere, jes' like de sun hed come
+th'oo a chink on it suddenly.
+
+"Den ole marster lost he eyes. D' yo' ever hyah 'bout dat? Heish!
+Didn' yo'? Well, one night de big barn cotch fire. De stables, yo'
+know, wuz under de big barn, an' all de hosses wuz in dyah. Hit
+'peared to me like 'twarn' no time befo' all de folks an' de
+neighbors dey come, an' dey wuz a-totin' water, an' a-tryin' to save
+de po' critters, an' dey got a heap on 'em out; but de ker'ige-hosses
+dey wouldn' come out, an' dey wuz a-runnin' back'ads an' for'ads
+inside de stalls, a-nikerin' an' a-screamin', like dey knowed dey time
+hed come. Yo' could heah 'em so pitiful, an' pres'n'y ole marster said
+to Ham Fisher (he wuz de ker'ige-driver), 'Go in dyah an' try to save
+'em; don' let 'em bu'n to death.' An' Ham he went right in. An' jes'
+arfter he got in, de shed whar it hed fus' cotch fell in, an' de
+sparks shot 'way up in de air; an' Ham didn' come back, an' de fire
+begun to lick out under de eaves over whar de ker'ige-hosses' stalls
+wuz, an' all of a sudden ole marster tu'ned and kissed ole missis, who
+wuz standin' nigh him, wid her face jes' ez white ez a sperit's, an',
+befo' anybody knowed what he wuz gwine do, jumped right in de do', an'
+de smoke come po'in' out behine 'im. Well, seh, I nuvver 'specks to
+hyah tell Judgment sich a soun' ez de folks set up. Ole missis she
+jes' drapt down on her knees in de mud an' prayed out loud. Hit
+'peared like her pra'r wuz heard; for in a minit, right out de same
+do', kyarin' Ham Fisher in his arms, come ole marster, wid his clo'es
+all blazin'. Dey flung water on 'im, an' put 'im out; an', ef you
+b'lieve me, yo' wouldn' a-knowed 'twuz ole marster. Yo' see, he hed
+find Ham Fisher done fall down in de smoke right by de ker'ige-hoss'
+stalls, whar he sont him, an' he hed to tote 'im back in his arms
+th'oo de fire what hed done cotch de front part o' de stable, an' to
+keep de flame from gittin' down Ham Fisher's th'ote he hed tuk off his
+own hat and mashed it all over Ham Fisher's face, an' he hed kep' Ham
+Fisher from bein' so much bu'nt; but _he_ wuz bu'nt dreadful! His
+beard an' hyar wuz all nyawed off, an' his face an' han's an' neck wuz
+scorified terrible. Well, he jes' laid Ham Fisher down, an' then he
+kind o' staggered for'ad, an' ole missis ketch' 'im in her arms. Ham
+Fisher, he warnt bu'nt so bad, an' he got out in a month or two; an'
+arfter a long time, ole marster he got well, too; but he wuz always
+stone bline arfter dat. He nuvver could see none from dat night.
+
+"Marse Chan he comed home from college toreckly, an' he sut'n'y did
+nuss ole marster faithful--jes' like a 'ooman. Den he took charge o'
+de plantation arfter dat; an' I use' to wait on 'im jes' like when we
+wuz boys togedder; an' sometimes we'd slip off an' have a fox-hunt,
+an' he'd be jes' like he wuz in ole times, befo' ole marster got
+bline, an' Miss Anne Chahmb'lin stopt comin' over to our house, an'
+settin' onder de trees, readin' out de same book.
+
+"He sut'n'y wuz good to me. Nothin' nuvver made no diffunce 'bout dat.
+He nuvver hit me a lick in his life--an' nuvver let nobody else do it,
+nudder.
+
+"I 'members one day, when he wuz a leetle bit o' boy, ole marster hed
+done tole we all chil'en not to slide on de straw-stacks; an' one day
+me an' Marse Chan thought ole marster hed done gone 'way from home. We
+watched him git on he hoss an' ride up de road out o' sight, an' we
+wuz out in de field a-slidin' an' a-slidin', when up comes ole
+marster. We started to run; but he hed done see us, an' he called us
+to come back; an' sich a whoppin' ez he did gi' us!
+
+"Fust he took Marse Chan, an' den he teched me up. He nuvver hu't me,
+but in co'se I wuz a-hollerin' ez hard ez I could stave it, 'cause I
+knowed dat wuz gwine mek him stop. Marse Chan he hed'n open he mouf
+long ez ole marster wuz tunin' 'im; but soon ez he commence warmin' me
+an' I begin to holler, Marse Chan he bu'st out cryin', an' stept right
+in befo' ole marster, an' ketchin' de whop, sed:
+
+"'Stop, seh! Yo' sha'n't whop 'im; he b'longs to me, an' ef you hit
+'im another lick I'll set 'im free!'
+
+"I wish yo' hed see ole marster. Marse Chan he warn' mo'n eight years
+ole, an' dyah dey wuz--ole marster stan'in' wid he whop raised up, an'
+Marse Chan red an' cryin', hol'in' on to it, an' sayin' I b'longst to
+'im.
+
+"Ole marster, he raise' de whop, an' den he drapt it, an' broke out in
+a smile over he face, an' he chuck' Marse Chan onder der chin, an'
+tu'n right roun' an' went away, laughin' to hisse'f, an' I heah' 'im
+tellin' ole missis dat evenin', an' laughin' 'bout it.
+
+"'Twan' so mighty long arfter dat when dey fust got to talkin' 'bout
+de war. Dey wuz a-dictatin' back'ads an' for'ads 'bout it fur two or
+th'ee years 'fo' it come sho' nuff, you know. Ole marster, he wuz a
+Whig, an' of co'se Marse Chan he tuk after he pa. Cun'l Chahmb'lin, he
+wuz a Dimicrat. He wuz in favor of de war, an' ole marster and Marse
+Chan dey wuz agin' it. Dey wuz a-talkin' 'bout it all de time, an'
+purty soon Cun'l Chahmb'lin he went about ev'vywhar speakin' an'
+noratin' 'bout Firginia ought to secede; an' Marse Chan he wuz picked
+up to talk agin' 'im. Dat wuz de way dey come to fight de duil. I
+sut'n'y wuz skeered fur Marse Chan dat mawnin', an' he was jes' ez
+cool! Yo' see, it happen so: Marse Chan he wuz a-speakin' down at de
+Deep Creek Tavern, an' he kind o' got de bes' of ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin.
+All de white folks laughed an' hoorawed, an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin--my
+Lawd! I t'ought he'd 'a' bu'st, he wuz so mad. Well, when it come to
+his time to speak, he jes' light into Marse Chan. He call 'im a
+traitor, an' a ab'litionis', an' I don' know what all. Marse Chan, he
+jes' kep' cool till de ole Cun'l light into he pa. Ez soon ez he name
+ole marster, I seen Marse Chan sort o' lif' up he head. D' yo' ever
+see a hoss rar he head up right sudden at night when he see somethin'
+comin' to'ds 'im from de side an' he don' know what 'tis? Ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin, he went right on. He said ole marster hed taught Marse
+Chan; dat ole marster wuz a wuss ab'litionis' dan he son. I looked at
+Marse Chan, an' sez to myse'f: 'Fo' Gord! old Cun'l Chahmb'lin better
+min', an' I hedn' got de wuds out, when ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin 'cuse'
+ole marster o' cheatin' 'im out o' he niggers, an' stealin' piece o'
+he lan'--dat's de lan' I tole you 'bout. Well, seh, nex' thing I
+knowed, I heahed Marse Chan--hit all happen right 'long togedder, like
+lightnin' an' thunder when dey hit right at you--I heah 'im say:
+
+"'Cun'l Chahmb'lin, what you say is false, an' yo' know it to be so.
+You have wilfully slandered one of the pures' an' nobles' men Gord
+ever made, an' nothin' but yo' gray hyars protects you.'
+
+"Well, ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin, he ra'ed an' he pitch'd. He said he wan'
+too ole, an' he'd show 'im so.
+
+"'Ve'y well,' says Marse Chan.
+
+"De meetin' broke up den. I wuz hol'in de hosses out dyar in de road
+by de een' o' de poach, an' I see Marse Chan talkin' an' talkin' to
+Mr. Gordon an' anudder gent'man, an' den he come out an' got on de
+sorrel an' galloped off. Soon ez he got out o' sight, he pulled up,
+an' we walked along tell we come to de road whar leads off to'ds Mr.
+Barbour's. He wuz de big lawyer o' de country. Dar he tu'ned off. All
+dis time he hedn' sed a wud, 'cep' to kind o' mumble to hisse'f now
+an' den. When we got to Mr. Barbour's, he got down an' went in. Dat
+wuz in de late winter; de folks wuz jes' beginnin' to plough fur corn.
+He stayed dyar 'bout two hours, an' when he come out Mr. Barbour come
+out to de gate wid 'im an' shake han's arfter he got up in de saddle.
+Den we all rode off. 'Twuz late den--good dark; an' we rid ez hard
+ez we could, tell we come to de ole school-house at ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin's gate. When we got dar Marse Chan got down an' walked
+right slow 'roun' de house. Arfter lookin' 'roun' a little while an'
+tryin' de do' to see ef it wuz shet, he walked down de road tell he
+got to de creek. He stop' dyar a little while an' picked up two or
+three little rocks an' frowed 'em in, an' pres'n'y he got up an' we
+come on home. Ez he got down, he tu'ned to me an', rubbin' de sorrel's
+nose, said: 'Have 'em well fed, Sam; I'll want 'em early in de
+mawnin'.'
+
+"Dat night at supper he laugh an' talk, an' he set at de table a long
+time. Arfter ole marster went to bed, he went in de charmber an' set
+on de bed by 'im talkin' to 'im an' tellin' 'im 'bout de meetin' an'
+ev'ything; but he never mention ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's name. When he
+got up to come out to de office in de yard, whar he slept, he stooped
+down an' kissed 'im jes' like he wuz a baby layin' dyar in de bed, an'
+he'd hardly let ole missis go at all. I knowed some'n wuz up, an' nex'
+mawnin' I called 'im early befo' light, like he tole me, an' he
+dressed an' come out pres'n'y jes' like he wuz goin' to chu'ch. I had
+de hosses ready, an' we went out de back way to'ds de river. Ez we
+rode along, he said:
+
+"'Sam, you an' I wuz boys togedder, wa'n't we?'
+
+"'Yes,' sez I, 'Marse Chan, dat we wuz.'
+
+"'You have been ve'y faithful to me,' sez he, 'an' I have seen to it
+that you are well provided fur. You wan' to marry Judy, I know, an'
+you'll be able to buy her ef you want to.'
+
+"Den he tole me he wuz goin' to fight a duil, an' in case he should
+git shot, he had set me free an' giv' me nuff to tek keer o' me an' my
+wife ez long ez we lived. He said he'd like me to stay an' tek keer o'
+ole marster an' ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an' he said it
+wouldn' be very long, he reckoned. Dat wuz de on'y time he voice
+broke--when he said dat; an' I couldn' speak a wud, my th'oat choked
+me so.
+
+"When we come to de river, we tu'ned right up de bank, an' arfter
+ridin' 'bout a mile or sich a matter, we stopped whar dey wuz a little
+clearin' wid elder bushes on one side an' two big gum trees on de
+udder, an' de sky wuz all red, an' de water down to'ds whar de sun wuz
+comin' wuz jes' like de sky.
+
+"Pres'n'y Mr. Gordon he come wid a 'hogany box 'bout so big 'fore 'im,
+an' he got down, an' Marse Chan tole me to tek all de hosses an' go
+'roun' behine de bushes whar I tell you 'bout--off to one side; an'
+'fore I got 'roun' dar, ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin an' Mr. Hennin an' Dr.
+Call come ridin' from tudder way, to'ds ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. When
+dey hed tied dey hosses, de udder gent'mens went up to whar Mr. Gordon
+wuz, an' arfter some chattin' Mr. Hennin step' off 'bout fur ez 'cross
+dis road, or mebbe it mout be a little furder; an' den I seed 'em
+th'oo de bushes loadin' de pistils, an' talk' a little while; an' den
+Marse Chan an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin walked up wid de pistils in dey
+han's, an' Marse Chan he stood wid his face right to'ds de sun. I seen
+it shine on 'im jes' ez it come up over de low groun's, an' he look'
+like he did sometimes when he come out of chu'ch. I wuz so skeered I
+couldn' say nuthin'. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin could shoot fust rate, an'
+Marse Chan he never missed.
+
+"Den I heahed Mr. Gordon say, 'Gent'mens, is yo' ready?' and bofe of
+'em sez, 'Ready,' jes' so.
+
+"An' he sez, 'Fire, one, two'--an' ez he said 'one,' ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin raised he pistil an' shot right at Marse Chan. De ball went
+th'oo his hat. I seen he hat sort o' settle on he head ez de bullit
+hit it, an' _he_ jes' tilted his pistil up in de a'r an' shot--_bang_;
+an' ez de pistil went _bang_, he sez to Cun'l Chahmb'lin, 'I mek you a
+present to yo' fam'ly, seh!'
+
+"Well, dey had some talkin' arfter dat. I didn' git rightly what it
+wuz; but it 'peared like Cun'l Chahmb'lin he warn't satisfied, an'
+wanted to have anudder shot. De seconds dey wuz talkin', an' pres'n'y
+dey put de pistils up, an' Marse Chan an' Mr. Gordon shook han's wid
+Mr. Hennin an' Dr. Call, an' come an' got on dey hosses. An' Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin he got on his horse an' rode away wid de udder gent'mens,
+lookin' like he did de day befo' when all de people laughed at 'im.
+
+"I b'lieve ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin wan' to shoot Marse Chan, anyway!
+
+"We come on home to breakfast, I totin' de box wid de pistils befo' me
+on the roan. Would you b'lieve me, seh, Marse Chan he nuvver said a
+wud 'bout it to ole marster or nobody. Ole missis didn' fin' out 'bout
+it for mo'n a month, an' den, Lawd! how she did cry and kiss Marse
+Chan; an' ole marster, aldo' he never say much, he wuz jes' ez please'
+ez ole missis. He call' me in de room an' made me tole 'im all 'bout
+it, an' when I got th'oo he gi' me five dollars an' a pyar of
+breeches.
+
+"But ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he nuvver did furgive Marse Chan, and Miss
+Anne she got mad too. Wimmens is mons'us onreasonable nohow. Dey's
+jes' like a catfish: you cann' tek' hole on 'em like udder folks, an'
+when you gits 'em yo' can n' always hole 'em.
+
+"What meks me think so? Heaps o' things--dis: Marse Chan he done gi'
+Miss Anne her pa jes' ez good ez I gi' Marse Chan's dawg sweet
+'taters, an' she git mad wid 'im ez if he hed kill 'im 'stid o'
+sen'in' 'im back to her dat mawnin' whole an' soun'. B'lieve me! she
+wouldn' even speak to 'im arfter dat!
+
+"Don' I 'member dat mawnin'!
+
+"We wuz gwine fox-huntin', 'bout six weeks or sich a matter arfter de
+duil, an' we met Miss Anne ridin' 'long wid anudder lady an' two
+gent'mens whar wuz stayin' at her house. Dyar wuz always some one or
+nudder dyar co'ting her. Well, dat mawnin' we meet 'em right in de
+road. 'Twuz de fust time Marse Chan had see her sence de duil, an' he
+raises he hat ez he pahss, an' she looks right at 'im wid her head up
+in de yair like she nuvver see 'im befo' in her born days; an' when
+she comes by me, she sez, 'Good-mawnin', Sam!' Gord! I nuvver see
+nuthin' like de look dat come on Marse Chan's face when she pahss 'im
+like dat. He gi' de sorrel a pull dat fotch 'im back settin' down in
+de san' on he hanches. He ve'y lips wuz white. I tried to keep up wid
+'im, but 'twarn' no use. He sont me back home pres'n'y, an' he rid on.
+I sez to myself, 'Cun'l Chahmb'lin, don' yo' meet Marse Chan dis
+mawnin'. He ain' bin lookin' 'roun' de ole school-house, whar he an'
+Miss Anne use' to go to school to ole Mr. Hall together, fur nuffin'.
+He won' stan' no prodjickin' to-day.'
+
+"He nuvver come home dat night tell 'way late, an' ef he'd been
+fox-huntin' it mus' ha' been de ole red whar lives down in de
+greenscum mashes he'd been chasin'. De way de sorrel wuz gormed up wid
+sweat an' mire sut'n'y did hu't me. He walked up to de stable wid he
+head down all de way, an' I'se seen 'im go eighty miles of a winter
+day, an' prance into de stable at night ez fresh ez ef he hed jes'
+cantered over to ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's to supper. I nuvver seen a
+hoss beat so sence I knowed de fetlock from de fo'lock, an' bad ez he
+wuz he wan' ez bad ez Marse Chan.
+
+"Whew! he didn' git over dat thing, seh--he nuvver did git over it.
+
+"De war come on jes' den, an' Marse Chan wuz elected cap'n; but he
+wouldn' tek it. He said Firginia hadn' seceded, an' he wuz gwine stan'
+by her. Den dey 'lected Mr. Gordon cap'n.
+
+"I sut'n'y did wan' Marse Chan to tek de place, cuz I knowed he wuz
+gwine tek me wid 'im. He wan' gwine widout Sam. An' beside, he look so
+po' an' thin, I thought he wuz gwine die.
+
+"Of co'se ole missis she heard 'bout it, an' she met Miss Anne in de
+road, an' cut her jes' like Miss Anne cut Marse Chan.
+
+"Ole missis, she wuz proud ez anybody! So we wuz mo' strangers dan ef
+we hadn' live' in a hunderd miles of each udder. An' Marse Chan he wuz
+gittin' thinner an' thinner, an' Firginia she come out, an' den Marse
+Chan he went to Richmond an' listed, an' come back an' sey he wuz a
+private, an' he didn' know whe'r he could tek me or not. He writ to
+Mr. Gordon, hows'ever, and 'twuz decided that when he went I wuz to go
+'long an' wait on him, an' de cap'n too. I didn' min' dat, yo' know,
+long ez I could go wid Marse Chan, an' I like' Mr. Gordon, anyways.
+
+"Well, one night Marse Chan come back from de offis wid a telegram dat
+say, 'Come at once,' so he wuz to start nex' mawnin'. He uniform wuz
+all ready, gray wid yaller trimmin's, an' mine wuz ready too, an' he
+had ole marster's sword, whar de State gi' 'im in de Mexikin war; an'
+he trunks wuz all packed wid ev'rything in 'em, an' my chist wuz
+packed too, an' Jim Rasher he druv 'em over to de depo' in de waggin,
+an' we wuz to start nex' mawnin' 'bout light. Dis wuz 'bout de las' o'
+spring, you know. Dat night ole missis made Marse Chan dress up in he
+uniform, an' he sut'n'y did look splendid wid he long mustache an' he
+wavin' hyar and he tall figger.
+
+"Arfter supper he come down an' sez: 'Sam, I wan' you to tek dis note
+an' kyar it over to Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, an' gi' it to Miss Anne wid
+yo' own han's, an' bring me wud what she sez. Don' let any one know
+'bout it, or know why you've gone.' 'Yes, seh,' sez I.
+
+"Yo' see, I knowed Miss Anne's maid over at ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin's--dat wuz Judy whar is my wife now--an' I knowed I could
+wuk it. So I tuk de roan an' rid over, an' tied 'im down de hill in de
+cedars, an' I wen' 'roun' to de back yard. 'Twuz a right blowy sort o'
+night; de moon wuz jes' risin', but de clouds wuz so big it didn'
+shine 'cep' th'oo a crack now an' den. I soon foun' my gal, an' arfter
+tellin' her two or three lies 'bout herse'f, I got her to go in an' ax
+Miss Anne to come to de do'. When she come, I gi' her de note, an'
+arfter a little while she bro't me anudder, an' I tole her good-by,
+an' she gi' me a dollar, an' I come home an' gi' de letter to Marse
+Chan. He read it, an' tole me to have de hosses ready at twenty minits
+to twelve at de corner of de garden. An' jes' befo' dat he come out ez
+ef he wuz gwine to bed, but instid he come, an' we all struck out
+to'ds Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. When we got mos' to de gate, de hosses got
+sort o' skeered, an' I see dey wuz some'n or somebody standin' jes'
+inside; an' Marse Chan he jumpt off de sorrel an' flung me de bridle
+and he walked up.
+
+"She spoke fust ('twuz Miss Anne had done come out dyar to meet Marse
+Chan), an' she sez, jes' ez cold ez a chill, 'Well, seh, I granted
+your favor. I wished to relieve myse'f of de obligations you placed me
+under a few months ago, when you made me a present of my father, whom
+you fust insulted an' then prevented from gittin' satisfaction.'
+
+"Marse Chan he didn' speak fur a minit, an' den he said: 'Who is with
+you?' (Dat wuz ev'y wud.)
+
+"'No one,' sez she; 'I came alone.'
+
+"'My God!' sez he, 'you didn' come all through those woods by yourse'f
+at this time o' night?'
+
+"'Yes, I'm not afraid,' sez she. (An' heah dis nigger! I don' b'lieve
+she wuz.)
+
+"De moon come out, an' I cotch sight o' her stan'in' dyar in her white
+dress, wid de cloak she had wrapped herse'f up in drapped off on de
+groun', an' she didn' look like she wuz 'feared o' nuthin'. She wuz
+mons'us purty ez she stood dyar wid de green bushes behine her, an'
+she hed jes' a few flowers in her breas'--right hyah--and some leaves
+in her sorrel hyar; an' de moon come out an' shined down on her hyar
+an' her frock, an' 'peared like de light wuz jes' stan'in' off it ez
+she stood dyar lookin' at Marse Chan wid her head tho'd back, jes'
+like dat mawnin' when she pahss Marse Chan in de road widout speakin'
+to 'im, an' sez to me, 'Good mawnin', Sam.'
+
+"Marse Chan, he den tole her he hed come to say good-by to her, ez he
+wuz gwine 'way to de war nex' mawnin'. I wuz watchin' on her, an' I
+tho't when Marse Chan tole her dat, she sort o' started an' looked up
+at 'im like she wuz mighty sorry, an' 'peared like she didn' stan'
+quite so straight arfter dat. Den Marse Chan he went on talkin' right
+fars' to her; an' he tole her how he had loved her ever sence she wuz
+a little bit o' baby mos', an' how he nuvver 'membered de time when he
+hedn' 'spected to marry her. He tole her it wuz his love for her dat
+hed made 'im stan' fust at school an' collige, an' hed kep' 'im good
+an' pure; an' now he wuz gwine 'way, wouldn' she let it be like 'twuz
+in ole times, an' ef he come back from de war wouldn' she try to t'ink
+on him ez she use' to do when she wuz a little guirl?
+
+"Marse Chan he had done been talkin' so serious, he hed done tuk Miss
+Anne's han', an' wuz lookin' down in her face like he wuz list'nin'
+wid his eyes.
+
+"Arfter a minit Miss Anne she said somethin', an' Marse Chan he cotch
+her udder han' an' sez:
+
+"'But if you love me, Anne?'
+
+"When he sed dat, she tu'ned her head 'way from 'im, an' wait' a
+minit, an' den she sed--right clear:
+
+"'But I don' love yo'.' (Jes' dem th'ee wuds!) De wuds fall right
+slow--like dirt falls out a spade on a coffin when yo's buryin'
+anybody an' seys, 'Uth to uth.' Marse Chan he jes' let her hand drap,
+an' he stiddy hisse'f 'g'inst de gate-pos', an' he didn' speak
+toreckly. When he did speak, all he sez wuz:
+
+"'I mus' see you home safe.'
+
+"I 'clar, marster, I didn' know 'twuz Marse Chan's voice tell I look
+at 'im right good. Well, she wouldn' let 'im go wid her. She jes'
+wrap' her cloak 'roun' her shoulders, an' wen' 'long back by herse'f,
+widout doin' more'n jes' look up once at Marse Chan leanin' dyah
+'g'inst de gate-pos' in he sodger clo'es, wid he eyes on de groun'.
+She said 'Good-by' sort o' sorf, an' Marse Chan, widout lookin' up,
+shake han's wid her, an' she wuz done gone down de road. Soon ez she
+got 'mos' 'roun' de curve, Marse Chan he followed her, keepin' under
+de trees so ez not to be seen, an' I led de hosses on down de road
+behine 'im. He kep' 'long behine her tell she wuz safe in de house,
+an' den he come an' got on he hoss, an' we all come home.
+
+"Nex' mawnin' we all come off to j'ine de army. An' dey wuz a-drillin'
+an' a-drillin' all 'bout for a while an' dey went 'long wid all de
+res' o' de army, an I went wid Marse Chan an' clean he boots, an' look
+arfter de tent, an' tek keer o' him an' de hosses. An' Marse Chan, he
+wan' a bit like he use' to be. He wuz so solum an' moanful all de
+time, at leas' 'cep' when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight. Den he'd
+peartin' up, an' he alwuz rode at de head o' de company 'cause he wuz
+tall; an' hit wan' on'y in battles whar all his company wuz dat _he_
+went, but he use' to volunteer whenever de cun'l wanted anybody to
+fine out anythin', an' 'twuz so dangersome he didn' like to mek one
+man go no sooner'n anudder, yo' know, an' ax'd who'd volunteer. _He_
+'peared to like to go prowlin' aroun' 'mong dem Yankees, an' he use'
+to tek me wid 'im whenever he could. Yes, seh, he sut'n'y wuz a good
+sodger! He didn' mine bullets no more'n he did so many draps o' rain.
+But I use' to be pow'ful skeered sometimes. It jes' use' to 'pear like
+fun to 'im. In camp he use' to be so sorrerful he'd hardly open he
+mouf. You'd 'a' tho't he wuz seekin', he used to look so moanful; but
+jes' le' 'im git into danger, an' he use' to be like ole times--jolly
+an' laughin' like when he wuz a boy.
+
+"When Cap'n Gordon got he leg shot off, dey mek Marse Chan cap'n on de
+spot, 'cause one o' de lieutenants got kilt de same day, an' tor'er
+one (named Mr. Ronny) wan' no 'count, an' all de company sed Marse
+Chan wuz de man.
+
+"An' Marse Chan he wuz jes' de same. He didn' never mention Miss
+Anne's name, but I knowed he wuz thinkin' on her constant. One night
+he wuz settin' by de fire in camp, an' Mr. Ronny--he wuz de secon'
+lieutenant--got to talkin' 'bout ladies, an' he say all sorts o'
+things 'bout 'em, an' I see Marse Chan kinder lookin' mad; an' de
+lieutenant mention Miss Anne's name. He hed been courtin' Miss Anne
+'bout de time Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an' Miss Anne hed
+kicked 'im, dough he wuz mighty rich, 'cause he warn' nuthin' but a
+half-strainer, an' 'cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she
+didn' speak to 'im; an' Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an' 'cause Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin tole 'im not to come dyah no more, he got mighty mad. An'
+dat evenin' I'se tellin' yo' 'bout, he wuz talkin', an' he mention'
+Miss Anne's name. I see Marse Chan tu'n he eye 'roun' on 'im an' keep
+it on he face, an' pres'n'y Mr. Ronny said he wuz gwine hev some fun
+dyah yit. He didn' mention her name dat time; but he said dey wuz all
+on 'em a parecel of stuck-up 'risticrats, an' her pa wan' no gent'man
+anyway, and _she_----I don' know what he wuz gwine say (he nuvver said
+it), fur ez he got dat far Marse Chan riz up an' hit 'im a crack, an'
+he fall like he hed been hit wid a fence-rail. He challenged Marse
+Chan to fight a duil, an' Marse Chan he excepted de challenge, an' dey
+wuz gwine fight; but some on 'em tole 'im Marse Chan wan' gwine mek a
+present o' him to his fam'ly, an' he got somebody to bre'k up de duil;
+'twan' nuthin' dough, but he wuz 'fred to fight Marse Chan. An' purty
+soon he lef' de comp'ny.
+
+"Well, I got one o' de gent'mens to write Judy a letter for me, an' I
+tole her all 'bout de fight, an' how Marse Chan knock Mr. Ronny over
+fur speakin' discontemptuous o' Cun'l Chahmb'lin, an' I tole her how
+Marse Chan wuz a-dyin' fur love o' Miss Anne. An' Judy she gits Miss
+Anne to read de letter fur her. Den Miss Anne she tells her pa,
+an'--you mind, Judy tells me all dis arfterwards, an' she say when
+Cun'l Chahmb'lin hear 'bout it, he wuz settin' on de poach, an' he set
+still a good while, an' den he sey to hisse'f:
+
+"'Well, he carn' he'p bein' a Whig.'
+
+"An' den he gits up an' walks up to Miss Anne an' looks at her right
+hard; an' Miss Anne she hed done tu'n away her head an' wuz makin' out
+she wuz fixin' a rose-bush 'g'inst de poach; an' when her pa kep'
+lookin' at her, her face got jes' de color o' de roses on de bush, an'
+pres'n'y her pa sez:
+
+"'Anne!'
+
+"An' she tu'ned 'roun', an' he sez:
+
+"'Do yo' want 'im?'
+
+"An' she sez, 'Yes,' an' put her head on he shoulder an' begin to cry;
+an' he sez:
+
+"'Well, I won' stan' between yo' no longer. Write to 'im an' say so.'
+
+"We didn' know nuthin' 'bout dis den. We wuz a-fightin' an' a-fightin'
+all dat time; an' come one day a letter to Marse Chan, an' I see 'im
+start to read it in his tent, an' he face hit look so cu'ious, an' he
+han's trembled so I couldn' mek out what wuz de matter wid 'im. An' he
+fold' de letter up an' wen' out an' wen' 'way down 'hine de camp, an'
+stayed dyah 'bout nigh an hour. Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for 'im
+when he come back, an', fo' Gord, ef he face didn' shine like a
+angel's. I say to myse'f, 'Um'm! ef de glory o' Gord ain' done shine
+on 'im!' An' what yo' 'spose 'twuz?
+
+"He tuk me wid 'im dat evenin', an' he tell me he hed done git a
+letter from Miss Anne, an' Marse Chan he eyes look like gre't big
+stars, an' he face wuz jes' like 'twuz dat mawnin' when de sun riz up
+over de low groun's, an' I see 'im stan'in' dyah wid de pistil in he
+han', lookin' at it, an' not knowin' but what it mout be de lars'
+time, an' he done mek up he mine not to shoot ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin fur
+Miss Anne's sake, what writ 'im de letter.
+
+"He fold' de letter wha' was in his han' up, an' put it in he inside
+pocket--right dyar on de lef' side; an' den he tole me he tho't mebbe
+we wuz gwine hev some warm wuk in de nex' two or th'ee days, an arfter
+dat ef Gord speared 'im he'd git a leave o' absence fur a few days,
+an' we'd go home.
+
+"Well, dat night de orders come, an' we all hed to git over to'ds
+Romney; an' we rid all night till 'bout light; an' we halted right on
+a little creek, an' we stayed dyah till mos' breakfas' time, an' I see
+Marse Chan set down on de groun' 'hine a bush an' read dat letter over
+an' over. I watch 'im, an' de battle wuz a-goin' on, but we hed orders
+to stay 'hine de hill, an' ev'y now an' den de bullets would cut de
+limbs o' de trees right over us, an' one o' dem big shells what goes
+'_Awhar--awhar--awhar!_' would fall right 'mong us; but Marse Chan he
+didn' mine it no mo'n nuthin'! Den it 'peared to git closer an'
+thicker, an' Marse Chan he calls me, an' I crep' up, an' he sez:
+
+"'Sam, we'se goin' to win in dis battle, an' den we'll go home an' git
+married; an' I'se goin' home wid a star on my collar.' An' den he sez,
+'Ef I'm wounded, kyar me home, yo' hear?' An' I sez, 'Yes, Marse
+Chan.'
+
+"Well, jes' den dey blowed boots an' saddles an' we mounted; an' de
+orders come to ride 'roun' de slope, an' Marse Chan's company wuz de
+secon'; an' when we got 'roun' dyah, we wuz right in it. Hit wuz de
+wust place ever dis nigger got in. An' dey said, 'Charge 'em!' an' my
+king! ef ever you see bullets fly, dey did dat day. Hit wuz jes' like
+hail; an' we wen' down de slope (I long wid de res') an' up de hill
+right to'ds de cannons, an' de fire wuz so strong dyar (dey hed a
+whole rigiment o' infintrys layin' down dyar onder de cannons) our
+lines sort o' broke an' stop; de cun'l was kilt, an' I b'lieve dey wuz
+jes' 'bout to bre'k all to pieces, when Marse Chan rid up an' cotch
+hol' de fleg an' hollers, 'Foller me!' an' rid strainin' up de hill
+'mong de cannons. I seen 'im when he went, de sorrel four good lengths
+ahead o' ev'y udder hoss, jes' like he use' to be in a fox-hunt, an'
+de whole rigiment right arfter 'im. Yo' ain' nuvver hear thunder! Fust
+thing I knowed, de roan roll' head over heels an' flung me up 'g'inst
+de bank, like yo' chuck a nubbin over 'g'inst de foot o' de corn pile.
+An' dat's what kep' me from bein' kilt, I 'specks. Judy she say she
+think 'twuz Providence, but I think 'twuz de bank. Of co'se,
+Providence put de bank dyar, but how come Providence nuvver saved
+Marse Chan! When I look' 'roun', de roan wuz layin' dyah by me, stone
+dead, wid a cannon-ball gone 'mos' th'oo him, an' our men hed done
+swep' dem on t' udder side from de top o' de hill. 'Twan' mo'n a minit,
+de sorrel come gallupin' back wid his mane flyin', an' de rein hangin'
+down on one side to his knee. 'Dyar!' says I, 'fo' Gord! I 'specks dey
+done kill Marse Chan, an' I promised to tek care on him.'
+
+"I jumped up an' run over de bank, an' dyar wid a whole lot o' dead
+men, an' some not dead yit, onder one o' de guns wid de fleg still in
+he han', an' a bullet right th'oo he body, lay Marse Chan. I tu'n' 'im
+over an' call 'im 'Marse Chan!' but 'twan' no use, he wuz done gone
+home, sho' 'nuff. I pick' 'im up in my arms wid de fleg still in he
+han's, an' toted 'im back jes' like I did dat day when he wuz a baby,
+an' ole marster gin 'im to me in my arms, an' sez he could trus' me,
+an' tell me to tek keer on 'im long ez he lived. I kyar'd 'im 'way off
+de battlefiel' out de way o' de balls, an' I laid 'im down onder a big
+tree tell I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me. He wuz
+cotched arfter awhile, an' I hed some money, so I got some pine plank
+an' made a coffin dat evenin', an' wrapt Marse Chan's body up in de
+fleg, an' put 'im in de coffin; but I didn' nail de top on strong,
+'cause I knowed ole missis wan' see 'im; an' I got a' ambulance an'
+set out for home dat night. We reached dyar de nex' evenin', arfter
+travellin' all dat night an' all nex' day.
+
+"Hit 'peared like somethin' hed tole ole missis we wuz comin' so; for
+when we got home she wuz waitin' for us--done drest up in her best
+Sunday-clo'es, an' stan'in' at de head o' de big steps, an' ole
+marster settin' in his big cheer--ez we druv up de hill to'ds de
+house, I drivin' de ambulance an' de sorrel leadin' 'long behine wid
+de stirrups crost over de saddle.
+
+"She come down to de gate to meet us. We took de coffin out de
+ambulance an' kyar'd it right into de big parlor wid de pictures in
+it, whar dey use' to dance in ole times when Marse Chan wuz a
+school-boy, an' Miss Anne Chahmb'lin use' to come over, an' go wid ole
+missis into her chamber an' tek her things off. In dyar we laid de
+coffin on two o' de cheers, an' ole missis nuvver said a wud; she jes'
+looked so ole an' white.
+
+"When I had tell 'em all 'bout it, I tu'ned right 'roun' an' rid over
+to Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, 'cause I knowed dat wuz what Marse Chan he'd
+'a' wanted me to do. I didn' tell nobody whar I wuz gwine, 'cause yo'
+know none on 'em hadn' nuvver speak to Miss Anne, not sence de duil,
+an' dey didn' know 'bout de letter.
+
+"When I rid up in de yard, dyar wuz Miss Anne a-stan'in' on de poach
+watchin' me ez I rid up. I tied my hoss to de fence, an' walked up de
+parf. She knowed by de way I walked dyar wuz somethin' de motter, an'
+she wuz mighty pale. I drapt my cap down on de een' o' de steps an'
+went up. She nuvver opened her mouf; jes' stan' right still an' keep
+her eyes on my face. Fust, I couldn' speak; den I cotch my voice, an'
+I say, 'Marse Chan, he done got he furlough.'
+
+"Her face was mighty ashy, an' she sort o' shook, but she didn' fall.
+She tu'ned roun' an' said, 'Git me de ker'ige!' Dat wuz all.
+
+"When de ker'ige come 'roun', she hed put on her bonnet, an' wuz
+ready. Ez she got in, she sey to me, 'Hev yo' brought him home?' an'
+we drove 'long, I ridin' behine.
+
+"When we got home, she got out, an' walked up de big walk--up to de
+poach by herse'f. Ole missis hed done fin' de letter in Marse Chan's
+pocket, wid de love in it, while I wuz 'way, an' she wuz a-waitin' on
+de poach. Dey sey dat wuz de fust time ole missis cry when she find de
+letter, an' dat she sut'n'y did cry over it, pintedly.
+
+"Well, seh, Miss Anne she walks right up de steps, mos' up to ole
+missis stan'in' dyar on de poach, an' jes' falls right down mos' to
+her, on her knees fust, an' den flat on her face right on de flo',
+ketchin' at ole missis' dress wid her two han's--so.
+
+"Ole missis stood for 'bout a minit lookin' down at her, an' den she
+drapt down on de flo' by her, an' took her in bofe her arms.
+
+"I couldn' see, I wuz cryin' so myse'f, an' ev'ybody wuz cryin'. But
+dey went in arfter a while in de parlor, an' shet de do'; an' I hyard
+'em say, Miss Anne she tuk de coffin in her arms an' kissed it, an'
+kissed Marse Chan, an' call 'im by his name, an' her darlin', an' ole
+missis lef' her cryin' in dyar tell some on 'em went in, an' found her
+done faint on de flo'.
+
+"Judy (she's my wife) she tell me she heah Miss Anne when she axed ole
+missis mout she wear mo'nin' fur 'im. I don' know how dat is; but when
+we buried 'im nex' day, she wuz de one whar walked arfter de coffin,
+holdin' ole marster, an' ole missis she walked next to 'em."
+
+"Well, we buried Marse Chan dyar in de ole grabeyard, wid de fleg
+wrapped roun' 'im, an' he face lookin' like it did dat mawnin' down in
+de low groun's, wid de new sun shinin' on it so peaceful.
+
+"Miss Anne she nuvver went home arfter dat; she stay wid ole marster
+an' ole missis ez long ez dey lived. Dat warn' so mighty long, 'cause
+ole marster he died dat fall, when dey wuz fallerin' fur wheat--I had
+jes' married Judy den--an' ole missis she warn' long behine him. We
+buried her by him next summer. Miss Anne she went in de hospitals
+toreckly arfter ole missis died; an' jes' fo' Richmond fell she come
+home sick wid de fever. Yo' nuvver would 'a' knowed her fur de same
+ole Miss Anne. She wuz light ez a piece o' peth, an' so white, 'cep'
+her eyes an' her sorrel hyar, an' she kep' on gittin' whiter an'
+weaker. Judy she sut'n'y did nuss her faithful. But she nuvver got no
+betterment! De fever an' Marse Chan's bein' kilt hed done strain her,
+an' she died jes' 'fo' de folks wuz sot free.
+
+"So we buried Miss Anne right by Marse Chan, in a place whar ole
+missis hed tole us to leave, an' dey's bofe on 'em sleep side by side
+over in de ole grabeyard at home.
+
+"An' will yo' please tell me, marster? Dey tells me dat de Bible sey
+dyar won' be marryin' nor givin' in marriage in heaven, but I don'
+b'lieve it signifies dat--does yo'?"
+
+I gave him the comfort of my earnest belief in some other
+interpretation, together with several spare "eighteen-pences," as he
+called them, for which he seemed humbly grateful. And as I rode away I
+heard him calling across the fence to his wife, who was standing in
+the door of a small whitewashed cabin, near which we had been standing
+for some time:
+
+"Judy, have Marse Chan's dawg got home?"
+
+
+
+
+MR. BIXBY'S CHRISTMAS VISITOR.
+
+BY CHARLES S. GAGE.
+
+_Appleton's Journal, December 30, 1871._
+
+
+At the head of the first flight of stairs, and on opposite sides of
+the landing, were the respective rooms of Mr. Bixby and Mr. Bangs. The
+house in which they lived stood in a quiet and retired street on the
+lower and western side of New York, a locality which was once
+inhabited by fashionable families, afterward by old-fashioned
+families, and at the time of our story by the keepers of
+boarding-houses for single men.
+
+Mr. Henry Bixby and Mr. Alfred Bangs were single men--Mr. Bangs, the
+wine-merchant, because he liked wine and song so well that he never
+had leisure to think of women, because he was fat, because he was red
+in the face, and, if more reasons are necessary, because his fingers
+were chubby and short. For twenty years, day by day, Mr. Bangs had
+been absorbed in business. For twenty years, night after night, it
+had been his custom to entertain his friends at his apartment in not a
+very quiet way. He was so happy, and bulbous, and jolly, that he had
+never thought of marriage. Yet he might easily have been mistaken by
+the casual observer for a family man. He wore a white vest when it
+wasn't too cold; his linen was painfully plain. There was not a sign
+of jewelry about him. He wore low shoes, which he tied with a ribbon.
+This was Mr. Bangs.
+
+Not quite so old in years as the opposite lodger was Mr. Bixby, known
+to his few friends as a genial philosopher and poet, to the public as
+the literary critic of one of the great daily papers. He might have
+been thirty-five years of age, but, as he had lived more for others
+than for himself, as he had made a study and not a pleasure of life,
+his gray eyes and the other features of his face suggested to whoever
+met him a longer past. There was something about him that caused men
+to wonder, not what he was, but what he had been.
+
+For ten years Mr. Bangs and Mr. Bixby had been inmates of the house
+together. Mr. Bangs had been there longer. The present landlady had
+received as a legacy from her predecessor, who did not care to take
+him away, Mr. Bangs. As she said, she made a present of Bangs.
+
+Long as they had known each other, the two lodgers were only
+acquaintances. Sometimes, on a Sunday afternoon, they would walk out
+in company, stroll down to the Battery, and there smoke their cigars
+and watch the ships, but beyond this point of sociability, which
+neither enjoyed, there was nothing more. Never had Bixby read Bangs
+any poem he had made, nor did ever Bangs invite Bixby to meet his
+convivial friends of an evening to play whist or to partake of his
+mulled ale. In fact, Mr. Bixby had been often and with great
+enthusiasm voted an unsocial fellow by the cronies of Mr. Bangs, but
+he rose somewhat in their estimation when they were informed that he
+had consented to exchange rooms with their host.
+
+"He isn't such a grouty fellow, after all," said Bangs. "I told him
+that we were too near the street, and that some one had been
+complaining to the landlady of our singing. He didn't even stop to
+think, but agreed to do it at once. He thought the light would be
+better here. Now, fellows, I call that doing the fair thing."
+
+And the speech of Mr. Bangs was applauded.
+
+It was the morning of the day before Christmas that the change was
+effected. In the closet where had been the bottles, the decanters,
+glasses, and pickle-jars of the late occupant, Mr. Bixby had arranged
+shelves, and filled them with his books. Over the mantel, from which
+Mr. Bangs had taken away a colored print of a bull-dog in an overcoat,
+Mr. Bixby hung a fine engraving of the Madonna, and on the mantel
+itself he had placed his clock. It was a small French clock under a
+crystal, so that its rapidly-swinging pendulum could be easily seen.
+All bachelors, however negligent of their surroundings, have some one
+hobby among articles of furniture. It may be an easy-chair, or a
+book-case, or a chandelier--there is one thing that must be the best
+of its kind. There could be no doubt, from the care with which Mr.
+Bixby placed his clock in its position, and from time to time compared
+it with his watch, that this was his hobby. It had the three
+requisites which he demanded in a clock. It kept correct time without
+failing, its pendulum swung rapidly, and was plainly visible. Time
+past was the happiness of Mr. Bixby, and this clock told him
+continually that all was being done that could be done to induce the
+hours of every day to go over to the majority. He depended upon this
+clock. He was surer of its mechanism than of that of his own heart.
+
+What with hanging his pictures and arranging his furniture, and with
+many other little things which had to be done, Mr. Bixby was busily
+employed all day. But the task was not an unpleasant one. His heart
+was in the work, for there was hardly an object in the room not nearly
+associated with some event in his past life. After carefully brushing
+the dust from an old writing-desk, which had evidently once belonged
+to a lady, he placed it upon the rug in front of the fire. Only on
+Christmas-eves was this desk opened.
+
+"It is curious," thought Mr. Bixby, "that I should have moved this
+day, of all days in the year!"
+
+Often in his work he thought of stopping to take from the desk an old
+packet of letters, and reading them once more. But it was not yet
+time, and, moreover, he was continually interrupted. First, there came
+some one to his door with "Two dozen Congress-water for Mr. Bangs;"
+then one with "Mr. Bangs's boots," and another to tell Mr. Bangs that
+"the pup was big enough to take away." Finally, came Bangs himself, to
+complain of like interruptions, and to bid him good-by.
+
+"Here is some manuscript a boy left for you. You will have to attend
+both doors now. I am off to spend Christmas. We are going to have a
+Tom-and-Jerry party in Jersey. You know--
+
+     "'The Tom-and-Jerry days have come, the happiest in the year!'
+
+"Good rendering, eh? That isn't all:
+
+     "'I only wish to live till the juleps come again!'"
+
+And Mr. Bangs laughed uproariously, even after he had said, "Good-by,"
+and shut the door behind him.
+
+"What a personification of Bacchus!" thought Mr. Bixby--
+
+     "'Ever laughing, ever young.'
+
+"He will be young as long as he lives, but I am afraid that won't be
+long. If ever there was a man in immediate danger of apoplexy, Bangs
+is that man."
+
+It was after dinner when Mr. Bixby lighted his drop-light and sat down
+before the fire. He pushed an ottoman in front of him, on which to
+rest his feet, which he had comfortably encased in his slippers. But
+the shadows in his new room did not please him. He could hardly see
+the clock on the mantel. The Madonna above was completely in the
+shade. So he lighted the chandelier above and sat down again, hoping
+that no friend, either of his own or of Mr. Bangs, would interrupt
+him. The desk was open at his feet. The package of letters lay near
+him on the table. He placed his hand upon them, but let it rest there.
+The hour had not quite arrived when he would read them. He fell again
+into the reveries of the day. He lingered over the thoughts of his
+better life ere he opened the packet which told of its end. For
+the last ten years he had labored without ambition, and had been
+successful. His name was well known as a journalist, and his
+salary was ample. Before that time he had striven ambitiously, but
+fruitlessly, patiently, but as in a quicksand, until, on a day, he had
+none to strive for but himself, and then success had come. Since noon,
+seven hours and twenty-nine minutes, said the clock before him. His
+anniversary was near. Mr. Bixby drew the letters near him, and untied
+the package. Just then there came a knock at his door, and, before he
+had determined whether or not he should say, "Come in," the door
+opened, and an elderly gentleman stepped into the apartment. Quietly
+he came in. There was no sound attending his entrance except the
+knock. Mr. Bixby, looking up, saw a man of more than ordinary height,
+with countenance rigid and puritanical in expression, as though the
+mind which had formed it was one influenced more by justice than
+mercy. His eyes were concealed by a pair of colored spectacles, but
+these, as they caught and reflected the light, were brighter and more
+startling than any eyes could have been. He was dressed in a long
+surtout, which he wore closely buttoned, high dickey, and high
+black-silk stock, which covered his throat to his chin. His iron-gray
+hair was brushed somewhat pompously backward over his forehead, and
+his whole effect was that of a gentleman of the generation which wore
+bell-crowned hats and carried enormous canes with tassels. But what
+attracted Mr. Bixby's particular attention were the wrinkles of his
+face. These were in all places where wrinkles should not be. One ran
+straight through the centre of his forehead, continuing the line of
+the nose upward to the hair. Two others, starting from the bridge of
+the nose, ran diagonally down to the nostrils. He was close-shaven,
+and his lips were straight and thin. These peculiarities of his
+visitor Mr. Bixby had barely time to mark when the gentleman said:
+
+"Ah, Mr. Bangs, I am glad to find you in!"
+
+Mr. Bixby never in his life more desired to be alone, and yet there
+was something in this old man which so attracted him that he could not
+correct his mistake. He felt a sudden fascination and desire to know
+more of him. Bangs was away and could not be seen. The gentleman could
+not be very well acquainted with Bangs, very probably never had seen
+him, or he would not have made such an error. But nothing but the
+influence which seemed to proceed from his visitor could have induced
+Mr. Bixby to answer as he did.
+
+"Thank you, sir. Pray, take this chair."
+
+As he said this, he arose and wheeled an easy-chair to the other side
+of the table.
+
+The elderly gentleman sat down.
+
+"You have a very cheerful apartment here, Mr. Bangs."
+
+"Yes. I always like to be comfortable."
+
+"Of course," said the elderly gentleman.
+
+"Will you remove your overcoat, sir?" asked Mr. Bixby, and immediately
+repented it.
+
+"Oh, no, I shall stop but a moment."
+
+There was an interval of silence. A block of coal broke open in the
+grate and fell apart. A jet of gas burst forth and burned, then
+sputtered and went out. Mr. Bixby wondered on what business he had
+come, and why he did not open the subject at once, if he was only
+intending to stop a moment.
+
+"It is very disagreeable weather out," said the man with the pompous
+forelock, interrupting his reflections.
+
+"Snowing?" asked Bixby.
+
+"No--sleet."
+
+"Very unpleasant to have far to go such a night," suggested Bixby,
+who could think of nothing better to say.
+
+"Not at all," responded the old gentleman, authoritatively.
+
+Bixby was silent again.
+
+The old gentleman, leaning with his elbow on the table, began again.
+
+"You like to live well, Mr. Bangs?"
+
+"I try to," answered Mr. Bixby.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"This must be some relative of Bangs come to deliver him a lecture on
+his course of life. Why don't he broach his advice at once?" thought
+Mr. Bixby. The visitor here pulled a glove from his right hand, ran
+his fingers through his hair, and then, in a more business-like tone,
+spoke again:
+
+"Although a stranger to you personally, Mr. Bangs, I have always taken
+a great interest in your family. Mr. Bangs, I knew your father."
+
+"Indeed! I never heard him speak--"
+
+"No, I dare say; it was near the end of his life. I was near by, and
+rendered him some assistance, when he died suddenly of apoplexy. He
+was not so much of a man as your grandfather."
+
+"Was he not?" asked Mr. Bixby, musingly. He was thinking how old the
+grandfather of his friend Bangs must have been.
+
+"No," continued the elderly gentleman; "but even his judgment I never
+considered equal to that of your great-grandfather."
+
+"Here is, indeed, a friend--a friend of the family. Why is Mr. Bangs
+away?" thought Mr. Bixby, and he bent his head a little, and looked
+under the drop-light, to get a view of his visitor. He saw only the
+reflection on his spectacles, and drew back suddenly, for fear of
+being detected.
+
+"You like a good song, I have heard, Mr. Bangs," came from the other
+side of the table. "Have you any favorite?"
+
+Mr. Bixby did not understand this at all. The question puzzled him.
+Should he as Bangs fall in the estimation of some relative if he
+admitted the fact? Or did his visitor intend to sing? However, he felt
+compelled to be frank, so he said:
+
+"Oh, yes; I like a good song. Some of the Scotch ballads please me
+most. There is 'The Land o' the Leal.'"
+
+"A very fine song, sir. A very fine song. It is a credit to any man to
+like that song."
+
+The old gentleman was excited. Mr. Bixby was just congratulating
+himself on having given Bangs a lift, when his thoughts were turned
+into an altogether new channel by the following remark:
+
+"It was my impression, however, that your taste ran rather in the way
+of drinking-songs. I should have thought now you would have said, 'The
+Coal-Black Wine.'"
+
+There was something in the tone with which this was uttered that made
+Mr. Bixby shudder. It ran through his mind that this man was some
+enemy of Bangs--that he was dangerous. Startled by this sudden
+suspicion, tremblingly he again peered under the shade. The wrinkle
+in the line of the frontal suture was more deeply indented. The light
+on the spectacles was brighter than ever.
+
+"Mr. Bangs, I called on your opposite neighbor, Mr. Bixby, to-night. I
+knocked on the door, but he was away."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Bixby, somewhat confused. He wished that Bangs had
+stayed at home, and determined to end the interview as soon as
+possible.
+
+"Yes. I am sorry. I had a positive appointment with him. I am a great
+friend of his."
+
+"Does he know you?"
+
+"Oh, no; we have never met personally that he remembers. I am an old
+friend of the family. He suffers from the heart-disease, and has been
+expecting me."
+
+"Oh, you are a physician?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I attended his father at his last illness."
+
+Mr. Bixby's heart began to beat rapidly. His mind became equally
+active, and, although he had no experience to be guided by, he began
+to suspect the nature of this man's business with Bangs. He almost
+determined to discover himself, but the letters were yet unread. If
+that were only done, he would do anything his visitor might request.
+Recalling the old gentleman's last words, he said, at last, calmly:
+
+"And his mother?"
+
+"Yes, and his mother."
+
+The old man's voice assumed almost a kindly tone.
+
+"He is, indeed, a friend of my family," thought Mr. Bixby; and then he
+started, for fear he might have spoken aloud.
+
+His eyes fell upon the packet of letters. He must read them. He must
+end the interview. The old doctor must have noticed Mr. Bixby's eyes,
+with the tears rising in them, as he tenderly touched the letters one
+by one, for it was with a voice very gentle and low that he spoke
+again.
+
+"I attended once a very dear friend of his. It must be quite ten years
+ago now. Her name was Margaret. I think she loved him, for I
+remember--yes--it was one Christmas-eve, she said, and after that she
+said no more, 'Has Harry come?'"
+
+Mr. Bixby could bear no more. His sobs were striving for utterance.
+His fingers grasped the strong oak arms of his chair. It was only the
+thought of the letters which gave him strength to say:
+
+"I am sorry, sir. You mistake me. I must ask you to leave me. You may
+come again. I shall be here, but I have something I would do to-night.
+I have given you much of my time. It is already late."
+
+"It is you who mistake, Mr. Bangs. But I am going now. I said I would
+stop but a moment. I have kept my promise, as you will see by your
+clock."
+
+Before his hands fell listless from the arms of the chair--before his
+lips parted, but not for speech--ay, just before that quick, strong
+pain in his heart, Mr. Bixby saw on the white dial the black hands yet
+pointing to the seven hours and the twenty-nine minutes, the pendulum
+moveless, still, half-way on the upward journey of the arc.
+
+The elderly gentleman arose, walked round the table, and smiled,
+himself, as he saw a smile of perfected happiness on the face of the
+dead, when so lately sorrow itself had been pictured on the face of
+the living.
+
+"It was hard to deceive him, but he will thank me now," said he of the
+gray locks and wrinkled visage. "And here are the letters which he
+does not need."
+
+Had the old man no more appointments to keep? For he took up one of
+the letters and opened it. A lock of golden hair fell unnoticed to the
+floor. Then he read silently, and, after a while, aloud:
+
+     "I hope you will come and see me on Christmas-eve, for I am
+     not well. I long for you more than I can say. You must be
+     tired with your struggle in the great city, and need rest. O
+     Harry! come and comfort her that loves you, as you well
+     know.
+
+                         "MARGARET."
+
+The bells of Trinity commenced ringing.
+
+"He was tired, and he needed rest," said Death.
+
+
+
+
+ELI.
+
+BY C. H. WHITE.
+
+_Century Magazine, November, 1881._
+
+
+                         I.
+
+Under a boat, high and dry, at low tide, on the beach, John Wood was
+seated in the sand, sheltered from the sun in the boat's shadow,
+absorbed in the laying on of verdigris. The dull, worn color was
+rapidly giving place to a brilliant, shining green. Occasionally a
+scraper, which lay by, was taken up to remove the last trace of a
+barnacle.
+
+It was Wood's boat, but he was not a boatman; he painted cleverly, but
+he was not a painter. He kept the brown store under the elms of the
+main street, now hot and still, where at this moment his blushing
+sister was captivating the heart of an awkward farmer's boy, as she
+sold him a pair of striped suspenders.
+
+As the church-clock struck the last of twelve decided blows, three
+children came rushing out of the house on the bank above the beach. It
+was one of those deceptive New England cottages, weather-worn without,
+but bright and bountifully home-like within--with its trim parlor,
+proud of a cabinet organ; with its front hall, now cooled by the light
+sea-breeze drifting through the blind-door, where a tall clock issued
+its monotonous call to a siesta on the rattan lounge; with its spare
+room, open now, opposite the parlor, and now, too, drawing in the salt
+air through close-shut blinds, in anticipation of the joyful arrival
+this evening of Sister Sarah, with her little brood, from the city.
+
+The children scampered across the road, and then the eldest hushed the
+others and sent a little brother ahead to steal, barefoot, along the
+shining sea-weed to his father.
+
+The plotted surprise appeared to succeed completely. The painter was
+seized by the ears from behind, and captured.
+
+"Guess who's here, or you can't get up," said the infant captor.
+
+"It's Napoleon Bonaparte; don't joggle," said his father, running a
+brush steadily along the water-line.
+
+"No! no! no!" with shouts of laughter from the whole attacking party.
+
+"Then it's Captain Ezekiel?"
+
+This excited great merriment: Captain Ezekiel was an aged, purblind
+man, who leaned on a cane.
+
+After attempts to identify the invader--with the tax-collector come
+for taxes, then with the elderly minister making a pastoral call, with
+the formal schoolmaster, and with Samuel J. Tilden--the victim reached
+over his shoulder, and, seizing the assailant by a handful of calico
+jacket, brought him around, squirming, before him.
+
+"Now," he said, "I'll give you a coat of verdigris."
+
+(Great applause from the reserve force behind.)
+
+"I suppose Mother sent you to say dinner's ready," said the father,
+rising and surveying the green bottom of the boat. "I must eat quick,
+so as to do the other side before half-flood."
+
+And with a child on each shoulder, and the third pushing him from
+behind with her head, he marched toward the vine-covered kitchen,
+where, between two opposite netted doors, the table was trimly set.
+
+"Father, you look like a mermaid, with your green hands," said his
+wife, laughing, as she handed him the spirits of turpentine. "A woman
+could paint that boat, in a light dress, and not get a spot on her."
+
+He smiled good-naturedly: he never spoke much.
+
+"I guess Louise won't have much trade to-day," said his wife, as they
+all sat down; "it's so hot in the sun that everybody'll wait till
+night. But she has her tatting-work to do, and she's got a book, too,
+that she wanted to finish."
+
+Her husband nodded, and ate away.
+
+"Oh, can't we go up street and see her, this afternoon?" said one of
+the children.
+
+"Who can that be?" said the mother, as an elderly,
+half-official-looking man stopped his horse at the front gate and
+alighted. The man left the horse unchecked to browse by the road-side,
+and came to the door.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Captain Nourse," said Wood, rising to open the netting
+door, and holding out his hand. "Come to summons me as a witness in
+something about the bank case, I suppose. Let me introduce Captain
+Nourse, Mary," he said, "deputy sheriff. Sit down, Captain, and have
+some dinner with us."
+
+"No, I guess I won't set," said the captain. "I cal'lated not to eat
+till I got home, in the middle o' the arternoon. No, I'll set down in
+eye-shot of the mare, and read the paper while you eat."
+
+"I hope they don't want me to testify anywhere to-day," said Wood;
+"because my boat's half verdigris'd, and I want to finish her this
+afternoon."
+
+"No testimony to-day," said the captain. "Hi! hi! Kitty!" he called to
+the mare, as she began to meander across the road; and he went out to
+a tree by the front fence, and sat down on a green bench, beside a
+work-basket and a half-finished child's dress, and read the country
+paper which he had taken from the office as he came along.
+
+After dinner Wood went out bare-headed, and leaned on the fence by the
+captain. His wife stood just inside the door, looking out at them.
+
+The "bank case" was the great sensation of the town, and Wood was one
+of the main witnesses, for he had been taking the place of the absent
+cashier when the safe was broken open and rifled, to the widespread
+distress of depositors and stock-holders and the ruin of Hon. Edward
+Clark, the president. Wood had locked the safe on the afternoon before
+the eventful night, and had carried home the key with him, and he was
+to testify to the contents of the safe as he had left it.
+
+"I guess they're glad they've got such a witness as John," said his
+wife to herself, as she looked at him fondly, "and I guess they think
+there won't be much doubt about what he says."
+
+"Well, Captain," said Wood, jocosely, breaking a spear of grass to
+bits in his fingers, "I didn't know but you'd come to arrest me."
+
+The captain calmly smiled as only a man can smile who has been
+accosted with the same humorous remark a dozen times a day for twenty
+years. He folded his paper carefully, put it in his pocket, took off
+his spectacles and put them in their silver case, took a red silk
+handkerchief from his hat, wiped his face, and put the handkerchief
+back. Then he said, shortly:
+
+"That's what I _have_ come for."
+
+Wood, still leaning on the fence, looked at him, and said nothing.
+
+"That's just what I've come for," said Captain Nourse. "I've got to
+arrest you; here's the warrant." And he handed it to him.
+
+"What does this mean?" said Wood. "I can't make head nor tail of
+this."
+
+"Well," said the captain, "the long and short is: these high-toned
+detectives that they've had down from town, seein' as our own force
+wasn't good enough, allow that the safe was unlocked with a key, in
+due form, and then the lock was broke afterward, to look as if it had
+been forced open. They've had the foreman of the safe-men down, too,
+and he says the same thing. Naturally, the argument is: there were
+only two keys in existence; one was safe with the president of the
+bank, and is about all he's got to show out of forty years' savings;
+the only other one you had: consequently it heaves it on to you."
+
+"I see," said Wood. "I will go with you. Do you want to come into the
+house with me while I get my coat?"
+
+"Well, I suppose I must keep you in sight--now, you know."
+
+And they went into the house.
+
+"Mary," said her husband, "the folks that lost by Clark when the bank
+broke have been at him until he's felt obliged to pitch on somebody,
+and he's pitched on me; and Captain Nourse has come to arrest me. I
+shall get bail before long."
+
+She said nothing, and did not shed a tear till he was gone.
+
+But then----
+
+
+                         II.
+
+Wide wastes of salt marsh to the right, imprisoning the upland
+with a vain promise of infinite liberty, and, between low, distant
+sand-hills, a rim of sea. Stretches of pine woods behind, shutting in
+from the great outer world, and soon to darken into evening gloom.
+Ploughed fields and elm-dotted pastures to the left, and birch-lined
+roads leading by white farm-houses to the village, all speaking
+of cheer and freedom to the prosperous and the happy, but to the
+unfortunate and the indebted, of meshes invisible but strong as steel.
+But, before, no lonesome marshes, no desolate forest, no farm or
+village street, but the free blue ocean, rolling and tumbling still
+from the force of an expended gale.
+
+In the open door-way of a little cottage, warmed by the soft slanting
+rays of the September sun, a rough man, burnt and freckled, was
+sitting, at his feet a net, engaged upon some handiwork which two
+little girls were watching. Close by him lay a setter, his nose
+between his paws. Occasionally the man raised his eyes to scan the
+sea.
+
+"There's Joel," he said, "comin' in around the Bar. Not much air
+stirrin' now!"
+
+Then he turned to his work again.
+
+"First, you go _so_ fash'," he said to the children, as he drew a
+thread; "then you go _so_ fash'."
+
+And as he worked he made a great show of labor, much to their
+diversion.
+
+But the sight of Joel's broad white sail had not brought pleasant
+thoughts to his mind. For Joel had hailed him, off the Shoal, the
+afternoon before, and had obligingly offered to buy his fish, right
+there, and so let him go directly home, omitting to mention that
+sudden jump of price due to an empty market.
+
+"Wonder what poor man he's took a dollar out of to-day! Well, I s'pose
+it's all right: those that's got money, want money."
+
+"What be you, Eli--ganging on hooks?" said Aunt Patience, as she
+tip-toed into the kitchen behind him, from his wife's sick-room, and
+softly closed the door after her.
+
+"No," said the elder of the children; "he's mending our stockings, and
+showing me how."
+
+"Well, you do have a hard time, don't you?" said Aunt Patience,
+looking down over his shoulder; "to slave and tug and scrape to get a
+house over your head, and then to have to turn square 'round, and stay
+to home with a sick woman, and eat all into it with mortgages!"
+
+"Oh, well," he said, "we'll fetch, somehow."
+
+Aunt Patience went to the glass, and holding a black pin in her mouth,
+carefully tied the strings of her sun-bonnet.
+
+"Anyway," she says, "you take it good-natured. Though if there is one
+thing that's harder than another, it is to be good-natured all the
+time, without being aggravating. I have known men that was so awfully
+good-natured that they was harder to live with than if they was
+cross!"
+
+And without specifying further, she opened her plaid parasol, and
+stepped out at the porch.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Though, on this quiet afternoon of Saturday, the peace of the
+approaching Sabbath seemed already brooding over the little dwelling,
+peace had not lent her hand to the building of the home. Every foot of
+land, every shingle, every nail, had been wrung from the reluctant
+sea. Every voyage had contributed something. It was a great day when
+Eli was able to buy the land. Then, between two voyages, he dug a
+cellar and laid a foundation; then he saved enough to build the main
+part of the cottage and to finish the front room, lending his own hand
+to the work. Then he used to get letters at every port, telling of
+progress--how Lizzie, his wife, had adorned the front room with a
+bright nine-penny paper, of which a little piece was inclosed, which
+he kept as a sort of charm about him and exhibited to his friends; how
+she and her little brother had lathed the entry and the kitchen, and
+how they had set out blackberry vines from the woods. Then another
+letter told of a surprise awaiting him on his return; and, in due
+time, coming home as third mate from Hong Kong to a seaman's
+tumultuous welcome, he had found that a great, good-natured mason,
+with whose sick child his wife had watched, night after night, had
+appeared one day with lime and hair and sand, and in white raiment,
+and had plastered the entry and the kitchen, and finished a room
+upstairs.
+
+And so, for years, at home and on the sea, at New York, and at
+Valparaiso, and in the Straits of Malacca, the little house and the
+little family within it had grown into the fibre of Eli's heart.
+Nothing had given him more delight than to meet, in the strange
+streets of Calcutta or before the Mosque of Omar, some practical
+Yankee from Stonington or Machias, and, whittling, to discuss with
+him, among the turbans of the Orient, the comparative value of shaved
+and of sawed shingles, or the economy of "Swedes-iron" nails, and to
+go over with him the estimates and plans which he had worked out in
+his head under all the constellations of the skies.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The supper things were cleared away. The children had said good-night
+and gone to bed, and Eli had been sitting for an hour by his wife's
+bedside. He had had to tax his patience and ingenuity heavily during
+the long months that she had lain there to entertain her for a little
+while in the evening, after his hard, wet day's work. He had been
+talking now of the coming week, when he was to serve upon the jury in
+the adjoining county-town.
+
+"I cal'late I can come home about every night," he said, "and it'll be
+quite a change, at any rate."
+
+"But you don't seem so cheerful about it as I counted you would be,"
+said his wife. "Are you afraid you'll have to be on the bank-case?"
+
+"Not much!" he answered. "No trouble 'n that case! Jury won't leave
+their seats. These city fellers'll find they've bit off more'n they
+can chew when they try to figure out John Wood done that. I only hope
+I'll have the luck to be on that case--all hands on the jury whisper
+together a minute, and then clear him, right on the spot, and then
+shake hands with him all 'round!"
+
+"But something is worrying you," she said. "What is it? You have
+looked it since noon."
+
+"Oh, nothin'," he replied--"only George Cahoon came up to-noon to say
+that he was goin' West next week, and that he would have to have that
+money he let me have a while ago. And where to get it--I don't know."
+
+
+                         III.
+
+The court-room was packed. John Wood's trial was drawing to its close.
+Eli was on the jury. Some one had advised the prosecuting attorney, in
+a whisper, to challenge him, but he had shaken his head and said:
+
+"Oh, I couldn't afford to challenge him for that; it would only leak
+out, and set the jury against me. I'll risk his standing out against
+this evidence."
+
+The trial had been short. It had been shown how the little building
+of the bank had been entered. Skilled locksmiths from the city had
+testified that the safe was opened with a key, and that the lock was
+broken afterward, from the inside--plainly to raise the theory of a
+forcible entry by strangers.
+
+It had been proved that the only key in existence, not counting that
+kept by the president, was in the possession of Wood, who was filling,
+for a few days, the place of the cashier--the president's brother--in
+his absence. It had been shown that Wood was met, at one o'clock of
+the night in question, crossing the fields toward his home, from the
+direction of the bank, with a large wicker basket slung over his
+shoulders, returning, as he had said, from eel-spearing in Harlow's
+Creek; and there was other circumstantial evidence.
+
+Mr. Clark, the president of the bank, had won the sympathy of every
+one by the modest way in which, with eye-glasses in hand, he had
+testified to the particulars of the loss which had left him penniless,
+and had ruined others whose little all was in his hands. And then, in
+reply to the formal question, he had testified, amid roars of laughter
+from the court-room, that it was not he who robbed the safe. At this,
+even the judge and Wood's lawyer had not restrained a smile.
+
+This had left the guilt with Wood. His lawyer, an inexperienced young
+attorney--who had done more or less business for the bank, and would
+hardly have ventured to defend this case but that the president had
+kindly expressed his entire willingness that he should do so--had, of
+course, not thought it worthwhile to cross-examine Mr. Clark, and had
+directed his whole argument against the theory that the safe had been
+opened with a key, and not by strangers. But he had felt all through
+that, as a man politely remarked to him when he finished, he was only
+butting his "head ag'in a stone wall."
+
+And while he was arguing, a jolly-looking old lawyer had written, in
+the fly-leaf of a law-book on his knee, and passed with a wink to a
+young man near him who had that very morning been admitted to the bar,
+these lines:
+
+     "When callow Blackstones soar too high,
+     Quit common-sense, and reckless fly,
+     Soon, Icarus-like, they headlong fall,
+     And down come client, case, and all."
+
+The district-attorney had not thought it worth while to expend much
+strength upon his closing argument; but being a jovial stump-speaker,
+of a wide reputation within narrow limits, he had not been able to
+refrain from making merry over Wood's statement that the basket which
+he had been seen bearing home, on the eventful night, was a basket of
+eels.
+
+"Fine eels those, gentlemen! We have seen gold-fish and silver-fish,
+but golden eels are first discovered by this defendant. The apostle,
+in Holy Writ, caught a fish with a coin in its mouth; but this man
+leaves the apostle in the dim distance when he finds eels that are
+all money. No storied fisherman of Bagdad, catching enchanted princes
+disguised as fishes in the sea, ever hooked such a treasure as this
+defendant hooked when he hooked that basket of eels! [Rustling
+appreciation of the pun among the jury.] If a squirming, twisting,
+winding, wriggling eel, gentlemen, can be said at any given moment to
+have a back, we may distinguish this new-found species as the
+green-back eel. It is a common saying that no man can hold an eel and
+remain a Christian. I should like to have viewed the pious equanimity
+of this church-member when he laid his hands on that whole bed of
+eels. In happy, barefoot boyhood, gentlemen, we used to find
+mud-turtles marked with initials or devices cut in their shells; but
+what must have been our friend's surprise to find, in the muddy bed of
+Harlow's Creek, eels marked with a steel-engraving of the landing of
+Columbus, and the signature of the Register of the Treasury! I hear
+that a corporation is now being formed by the title of The Harlow's
+Creek Greenback National Bank-bill Eel-fishing Company, to follow up,
+with seines and spears, our worthy friend's discovery! I learn that
+the news of this rich placer has spread to the golden mountains of the
+West, and that the exhausted intellects which have been reduced to
+such names for their mines as 'The Tombstone,' 'The Red Dog,' the
+'Mrs. E. J. Parkhurst,' are likely now to flood us with prospectuses
+of the 'Eel Mine,' 'The Flat Eel,' 'The Double Eel,' and then, when
+they get ready to burst upon confiding friends, 'The Consolidated
+Eels.'"
+
+It takes but little to make a school or a court-room laugh, and the
+speech had appeared to give a good deal of amusement to the listeners.
+
+To all?
+
+Did it amuse that man who sat, with folded arms, harsh and rigid, at
+the dock? Did it divert that white-faced woman, cowering in a corner,
+listening as in a dream?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The judge now charged the jury briefly. It was unnecessary for him, he
+said, to recapitulate evidence of so simple a character. The chief
+question for the jury was as to the credibility of the witnesses. If
+the witnesses for the prosecution were truthful and were not mistaken,
+the inference of guilt seemed inevitable; this the defendant's counsel
+had conceded. The defendant had proved a good reputation; upon that
+point there was only this to be said: that, while such evidence was
+entitled to weight, yet, on the other hand, crimes involving a breach
+of trust could, from their very nature, be committed only by persons
+whose good reputations secured them positions of trust.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The jury-room had evidently not been furnished by a ring. There was a
+long table for debate, twelve hard chairs for repose, twelve spittoons
+for luxury, and a clock.
+
+The jury sat in silence for a few moments, as old Captain Nourse, who
+had them in his keeping, and eyed them as if he was afraid that he
+might lose one of them in a crack and be held accountable on his bond,
+rattled away at the unruly lock. Looking at them then, you would have
+seen faces all of a New England cast but one. There was a tall,
+powerful negro called George Washington, a man well known in this
+county town, to which he had come, as driftwood from the storm of war,
+in '65. Some of the "boys" had heard him, in a great prayer-meeting in
+Washington--a city which he always spoke of as his "namesake"--at the
+time of the great review, say, in his strong voice, with that pathetic
+quaver in it: "Like as de parched an' weary traveller hangs his harp
+upon de winder, an' sighs for oysters in de desert, so I longs to res'
+my soul an' my foot in Mass'chusetts;" and they were so delighted with
+him that they invited him on the spot to go home with them, and took
+up a collection to pay his fare, and so he was a public character. As
+for his occupation--when the census-taker, with a wink to the boys in
+the store, had asked him what it was, he had said, in that same odd
+tone: "Putties up glass a little--white-washes a little--" and, when
+the man had made a show of writing all that down, "preaches a little."
+He might have said "preaches a big," for you could hear him half a
+mile away.
+
+The foreman was a retired sea-captain. "Good cap'n--Cap'n Thomas,"
+one of his neighbors had said of him. "Allers gits good ships--never
+hez  to go huntin' 'round for a vessel. But it is astonishin' what
+differences they is! Now there's Cap'n A. K. P. Bassett, down to the
+West Harbor. You let it git 'round that Cap'n A. K. P. is goin' off on
+a Chiny voyage, and you'll see half a dozen old shays to onct, hitched
+all along his fence of an arternoon, and wimmen inside the house, to
+git Cap'n A. K. P. to take their boys. But you let Cap'n Thomas give
+out that he wants boys, and he hez to glean 'em--from the poor-house,
+and from step-mothers, and where he can: the wimmen knows! Still," he
+added, "Cap'n Thomas's a good cap'n. I've nothin' to say ag'in him.
+He's smart!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Gentlemen," said the foreman, when the officer, at last, had securely
+locked them in, "shall we go through the formality of a ballot? If the
+case were a less serious one, we might have rendered a verdict in our
+seats."
+
+"What's the use foolin' 'round ballotin'?" said a thick-set butcher.
+"Ain't we all o' one mind?"
+
+"It is for you to say, gentlemen," said the foreman. "I shouldn't want
+to have it go abroad that we had not acted formally, if there was any
+one disposed to cavil."
+
+"Mr. Speaker," said George Washington, rising and standing in the
+attitude of Webster, "I rises to appoint to order. We took ballast in
+de prior cases, and why make flesh of one man an' a fowl of another?"
+
+
+"Very well," said the foreman, a trifle sharply. "'The longest way
+round is the shortest way home.'"
+
+Twelve slips of paper were handed out, to be indorsed guilty, "for
+form." They were collected in a hat and the foreman told them
+over--"just for form." "'Guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty';--wait
+a minute," he said, "here is a mistake. Here is one 'not
+guilty'--whose is this?"
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Whose is it?" said the foreman, sharply.
+
+Eli turned a little red.
+
+"It's mine," he said.
+
+"Do you mean it?" said the foreman.
+
+"Of course I mean it," he answered.
+
+"Whew!" whistled the foreman. "Very well, sir; we'll have an
+understanding, then. This case is proved to the satisfaction of every
+man who heard it, I may safely say, but one. Will that one please
+state the grounds of his opinion?"
+
+"I ain't no talker," said Eli, "but I ain't satisfied he's
+guilty--that's all."
+
+"Don't you believe the witnesses?"
+
+"Mostly."
+
+"Which one don't you believe?"
+
+"I can't say. I don't believe he's guilty."
+
+"Is there one that you think lied?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Now it seems to me----" said a third juryman.
+
+"One thing at a time, gentlemen," said the foreman. "Let us wait for
+an answer from Mr. Smith. Is there any one that you think lied? We
+will wait, gentlemen, for an answer."
+
+There was a long pause. The trial seemed to Eli Smith to have shifted
+from the court to this shabby room, and he was now the culprit.
+
+All waited for him; all eyes were fixed upon him.
+
+The clock ticked loud! Eli counted the seconds. He knew the
+determination of the foreman.
+
+The silence became intense.
+
+"I want to say my say," said a short man in a pea-jacket--a retired
+San Francisco pilot, named Eldridge. "I entertain no doubt the man is
+guilty. At the same time, I allow for differences of opinion. I don't
+know this man that's voted 'not guilty,' but he seems to be a
+well-meaning man. I don't know his reasons; probably he don't
+understand the case. I should like to have the foreman tell the
+evidence over, so as if he don't see it clear, he can ask questions,
+and we can explain."
+
+"I second de motion," said George Washington.
+
+There was a general rustle of approval.
+
+"I move it," said the pilot, encouraged.
+
+"Very well, Mr. Eldridge," said the foreman. "If there is no
+objection, I will state the evidence, and if there is any loop-hole, I
+will trouble Mr. Smith to suggest it as I go along," and he proceeded
+to give a summary of the testimony, with homely force.
+
+"Now, sir?" he said, when he had finished.
+
+"I move for another ballot," said Mr. Eldridge.
+
+The result was the same. Eli had voted "not guilty."
+
+"Mr. Smith," said the foreman, "this must be settled in some way. This
+is no child's play. You can't keep eleven men here, trifling with
+them, giving no pretence of a reason."
+
+"I haven't any reasons, only that I don't believe he's guilty," said
+Eli. "I'm not goin' to vote a man into states-prison, when I don't
+believe he done it," and he rose and walked to the window, and looked
+out. It was low tide. There was a broad stretch of mud in the
+distance, covered with boats lying over disconsolate. A driving storm
+had emptied the streets. He beat upon the rain-dashed glass a moment
+with his fingers, and then he sat down again.
+
+"Well, sir," said the foreman, "this is singular conduct. What do you
+propose to do?"
+
+Silence.
+
+"I suppose you realize that the rest of us are pretty rapidly forming
+a conclusion on this matter," said the foreman.
+
+"Come! come!" said Mr. Eldridge; "don't be quite so hard on him,
+Captain. Now, Mr. Smith," he said, standing up with his hands in his
+coat-pockets, and looking at Eli, "we know that there often is crooked
+sticks on juries, that hold out alone--that's to be expected; but they
+always argue, and stand to it the rest are fools, and all that. Now,
+all is, we don't see why you don't sort of argue, if you've got
+reasons satisfactory to you. Come, now," he added, walking up to Eli,
+and resting one foot on the seat of his chair, "why don't you tell it
+over? and if we're wrong, I'm ready to join you."
+
+Eli looked up at him.
+
+"Didn't you ever know," he said, "of a man's takin' a cat off, to
+lose, that his little girl didn't want drownded, and leavin' him
+ashore, twenty or thirty miles, bee-line, from home, and that cat's
+bein' back again the next day, purrin' 'round 's if nothin' had
+happened?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Eldridge--"knew of just such a case."
+
+"Very well," said Eli; "how does he find his way home?"
+
+"Don't know," said Mr. Eldridge; "always has been a standing mystery
+to me."
+
+"Well," said Eli, "mark my words. There's such a thing as arguin', and
+there's such a thing as knowin' outright; and when you'll tell me how
+that cat inquires his way home, I'll tell you how I know John Wood
+ain't guilty."
+
+This made a certain sensation, and Eli's stock went up.
+
+An old, withered man rapped on the table.
+
+"That's so!" he said; "and there's other sing'lar things! How is it
+that a sea-farin' man, that's dyin' to home, will allers die on the
+ebb-tide? It never fails, but how does it happen? Tell me that! And
+there's more ways than one of knowin' things, too!"
+
+"I know that man ain't guilty," said Eli.
+
+"Hark ye!" said a dark old man with a troubled face, rising and
+pointing his finger toward Eli. "_Know_, you say? I _knew_, wunst. I
+_knew_ that my girl, my only child, was good. One night she went off
+with a married man that worked in my store, and stole my money--and
+where is she now?" And then he added, "What I _know_ is, that every
+man hes his price. I hev mine, and you hev yourn!"
+
+The impugnment of Eli's motives was evident to all.
+
+"'Xcuse me, Mr. Speaker," said George Washington, rising with his hand
+in his bosom; "as de question is befo' us, I wish to say that de las'
+bro' mus' have spoken under 'xcitement. Every man _don'_ have his
+price! An' I hope de bro' will recant--like as de Psalmist goes out o'
+his way to say '_In my haste_ I said, All men are liars.' He was a
+very busy man, de Psalmist--writin' down hymns all day, sharpen'n' his
+lead-pencil, bossin' 'roun' de choir--callin' Selah! Well, bro'n an'
+sisters"--both arms going out, and his voice going up--"one day, seems
+like, he was in gre't haste--got to finish a psalm for a monthly
+concert, or such--and some man incorrupted him, and lied; and bein' in
+gre't haste--and a little old Adam in him--he says, right off, quick:
+'_All_ men are liars!' But see--when he gets a little time to set back
+and meditate, he says: 'Dis won' do--dere's Moses, an' Job, an'
+Paul--dey ain't liars!' An' den he don' sneak out, and 'low he said,
+'All men is lions,' or such. No! de Psalmist ain't no such man; but he
+owns up, an' 'xplains: '_In my haste_,' he says, 'I said it.'"
+
+The foreman rose and rapped.
+
+"I await a motion," said he, "if our friend will allow me the
+privilege of speaking."
+
+Mr. Washington calmly bowed.
+
+Then the foreman, when nobody seemed disposed to move, speaking
+slowly, at first, and piece-meal, alternating language with smoke,
+gradually edged into the current of the evidence, and ended by going
+all over it again, with fresh force and point. His cigar glowed and
+chilled in the darkening room as he talked.
+
+"Now," he said, when he had drawn all the threads together to the
+point of guilt, "what are we going to do upon this evidence?"
+
+"I'll tell you something," said Eli. "I didn't want to say it because
+I know what you'll all think, but I'll tell you, all the same."
+
+"Ah!" said the foreman.
+
+Eli stood up and faced the others.
+
+"'Most all o' you know what our Bar is in a south-east gale. They
+ain't a man here that 'uld dare to try and cross it when the sea's
+breakin' on it. The man that says he would, lies!" And he looked at
+the foreman, and waited a moment.
+
+"When my wife took sick, and I stopped goin' to sea, two year ago, and
+took up boat-fishin', I didn't know half as much about the coast as
+the young boys do, and one afternoon it was blowin' a gale, and we
+was all hands comin' in, and passin' along the Bar to go sheer 'round
+it to the west'ard, and Captain Fred Cook--he's short-sighted--got on
+to the Bar before he knew it, and then he had to go ahead, whether or
+no; and I was right after him, and I s'posed he knew, and I followed
+him. Well, he was floated over, as luck was, all right; but when I'd
+just got on the Bar, a roller dropped back and let my bowsprit down
+into the sand, and then come up quicker'n lightnin' and shouldered the
+boat over, t'other end first, and slung me into the water; and when I
+come up, I see somethin' black, and there was John Wood's boat runnin'
+by me before the wind with a rush--and 'fore I knew an'thing he had me
+by the hair by one hand and in his boat, and we was over the Bar. Now,
+I tell you, a man that looks the way I saw him look when I come over
+the gunwale, face up, don't go 'round breakin' in and hookin' things.
+He hadn't one chance in five, and he was a married man, too, with
+small children. And what's more," he added, incautiously, "he didn't
+stop there. When he found out, this last spring, that I was goin' to
+lose my place, he lent me money enough to pay the interest that was
+overdue on the mortgage, of his own acord."
+
+And he stopped suddenly.
+
+"You have certainly explained yourself," said the foreman. "I think we
+understand you distinctly."
+
+"There isn't one word of truth in that idea," said Eli, flushing up,
+"and you know it. I've paid him back every cent. I know him better'n
+any of you, that's all, and when I know he ain't guilty, I won't say
+he is; and I can set here as long as any other man."
+
+"Lively times some folks'll hev, when they go home," said a spare
+tin-peddler, stroking his long yellow goatee. "Go into the store:
+nobody speak to you; go to cattle-show: everybody follow you 'round;
+go to the wharf: nobody weigh your fish; go to buy seed-cakes at the
+cart: baker won't give no tick."
+
+"How much does it cost, Mr. Foreman," said the butcher, "for a man
+'t's obliged to leave town, to move a family out West? I only ask for
+information. I have known a case where a man had to leave--couldn't
+live there no longer--wa'n't wanted."
+
+There was a knock. An officer, sent by the judge, inquired whether the
+jury were likely soon to agree.
+
+"It rests with you, sir," said the foreman, looking at Eli.
+
+But Eli sat doggedly with his hands in his pockets, and did not look
+up or speak.
+
+"Say to the judge that I cannot tell," said the foreman.
+
+It was eight o'clock when the officer returned, with orders to take
+the jury across the street to the hotel, to supper. They went out in
+pairs, except that the juryman who was left to fall in with Eli made
+three with the file ahead, and left Eli to walk alone. This was
+noticed by the by standers. At the hotel, Eli could not eat a
+mouthful. He was seated at one end of the table, and was left entirely
+out of the conversation. When the jury were escorted back to the court
+house, rumors had evidently begun to arise from his having walked
+alone, for there was quite a little crowd at the hotel-door, to see
+them. They went as before: four pairs, a file of three, and Eli alone.
+Then the spectators understood it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the jury were locked into their room again for the night, Mr.
+Eldridge sat down by Eli, and lit his pipe.
+
+"I understand," he said, "just how you feel. Now, between you and me,
+there was a good-hearted fellow that kept me out of a bad mess once.
+I've never told anybody just what it was, and I don't mean to tell you
+now, but it brought my blood up standing, to find how near I'd come to
+putting a fine steamer and two hundred and forty passengers under
+water. Well, one day, a year or so after that, this man had a chance
+to get a good ship, only there was some talk against him, that he
+drank a little. Well, the owners told him they wanted to see me, and
+he come to me, and says he, 'Mr. Eldridge, I hope you'll speak a good
+word for me; if you do, I'll get the ship, but if they refuse me this
+one, I'm dished everywhere.' Well, the owners put me the square
+question, and I had to tell 'em. Well, I met him that afternoon on
+Sacramento Street, as white as a sheet, and he wouldn't speak to me,
+but passed right by, and that night he went and shipped before the
+mast. That's the last I ever heard of him. But I had to do it.
+
+"Now," he added, "this man's been good to you; but the case is proved,
+and you ought to vote with the rest of us."
+
+"It ain't proved," said Eli. "The judge said that if any man had a
+reasonable doubt, he ought to hold out. Now, I ain't convinced."
+
+"Well, that's easy said," replied Mr. Eldridge, a little hotly, and he
+arose, and left him.
+
+The jurymen broke up into little knots, tilted their chairs back,
+and settled into the easiest positions that their cramped quarters
+allowed. Most of them lit their pipes; the captain, and one or two
+whom he honored, smoked fragrant cigars, and the room was soon filled
+with a dense cloud.
+
+Eli sat alone by the window.
+
+"Sometimes sell two at one house," said a lank book-agent, arousing
+himself from a reverie; "once sold three."
+
+"I think the Early Rose is about as profitable as any," said a little
+farmer, with a large circular beard. "I used to favor Jacobs's
+Seedling, but they haven't done so well with me of late years."
+
+"Sometimes," said the book-agent, picking his teeth with a quill,
+"you'll go to a house, and they'll say they can't be induced to buy a
+book of any kind, historical, fictitious, or religious; but you just
+keep on talking, and show the pictures--'Grant in Boyhood,' 'Grant a
+Tanner,' 'Grant at Head-quarters,' 'Grant in the White House,' 'Grant
+before Queen Victoria,' and they warm up, I tell you, and not
+infrequently buy."
+
+"Do you sell de 'Illustrated Bible,'" asked Washington, "wid de
+Hypocrypha?"
+
+"No; I have a more popular treatise--the 'Illustrated History of the
+Bible.' Greater variety. Brings in the surrounding nations, in
+costume. Cloth, three dollars; sheep, three-fifty; half calf,
+five-seventy-five, full morocco, gilt edges, seven-fifty. Six hundred
+and seven illustrations on wood and steel. Three different engravings
+of Abraham alone. Four of Noah--'Noah before the Flood,' 'Noah
+Building the Ark,' 'Noah Welcoming the Dove,' 'Noah on Ararat.' Steel
+engraving of Ezekiel's Wheel, explaining prophecy. Jonah under the
+gourd, Nineveh in the distance."
+
+Mr. Eldridge and Captain Thomas had drifted into a discussion of
+harbors, and the captain had drawn his chair up to the table, and,
+with a cigar in his mouth, was explaining an ingeniously constructed
+foreign harbor. He was making a rough sketch, with a pen.
+
+"Here is north," he said; "here is the coast-line; here are the flats;
+here are the sluice-gates; they store the water here, in----"
+
+Some of the younger men had their heads together, in a corner, about
+the tin-peddler, who was telling stories of people he had met in his
+journeys, which brought out repeated bursts of laughter.
+
+In the corner farthest from Eli, a delicate-looking man began to tell
+the butcher about Eli's wife.
+
+"Twelve years ago this fall," he said, "I taught district-school in
+the parish where she lived. She was about fourteen then. Her father
+was a poor farmer, without any faculty. Her mother was dead, and she
+kept house. I stayed there one week, boarding 'round."
+
+"Prob'ly didn't git not much of any fresh meat that week," suggested
+the butcher.
+
+"She never said much, but it used to divert me to see her order around
+her big brothers, just as if she was their mother. She and I got to be
+great friends; but she was a queer piece. One day at school, the girls
+in her row were communicating, and annoying me, while the third class
+was reciting in 'First Steps in Numbers,' and I was so incensed that I
+called Lizzie--that's her name--right out, and had her stand up for
+twenty minutes. She was a shy little thing, and set great store by
+perfect marks. I saw that she was troubled a good deal, to have all of
+them looking and laughing at her. But she stood there, with her hands
+folded behind her, and not a smile or a word."
+
+"Look out for a sullen cow," said the butcher.
+
+"I felt afraid I had been too hasty with her, and I was rather sorry I
+had been so decided--although, to be sure, she didn't pretend to deny
+that she had been communicating."
+
+"Of course," said the butcher: "no use lyin' when you're caught in the
+act."
+
+"Well, after school, she stayed at her desk, fixing her dinner-pail,
+and putting her books in a strap, and all that, till all the rest had
+gone, and then she came up to my desk, where I was correcting
+compositions."
+
+"Now for music!" said the butcher.
+
+"She had been crying a little. Well, she looked straight in my face,
+and said she, 'Mr. Pollard, I just wanted to say to you that I wasn't
+doing anything at all when you called me up;' and off she went. Now,
+that was just like her--too proud to say a word before the school."
+
+But here his listener's attention was diverted by the voice of the
+book-agent:
+
+"The very best Bible for teachers, of course, is the limp-cover,
+protected edges, full Levant morocco, Oxford, silk-sewed, kid-lined,
+Bishop's Divinity Circuit, with concordance, maps of the Holy Land,
+weights, measures, and money-tables of the Jews. Nothing like having a
+really----"
+
+"And so," said the captain, moving back his chair, "they let on the
+whole head of water, and scour out the channel to a T."
+
+And then he rapped upon the table.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, "please draw your chairs up, and let us take
+another ballot."
+
+The count resulted as before. The foreman muttered something which had
+a scriptural sound.
+
+In a few moments, he drew Mr. Eldridge and two others aside.
+"Gentlemen," he said to them, "I shall quietly divide the jury into
+watches, under your charge: ten can sleep, while one wakes to keep Mr.
+Smith discussing the question. I don't propose to have the night
+wasted."
+
+And, by one man or another, Eli was kept awake.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I don't see," said the book-agent, "why you should feel obliged to
+stick it out any longer. Of course, you are under obligations. But
+you've done more than enough already, so as that he can't complain of
+you, and if you give in now, everybody'll give you credit for trying
+to save your friend, on the one hand, and, on the other hand, for
+giving in to the evidence. So you'll get credit both ways."
+
+An hour later, the tin-peddler came on duty. He had not followed
+closely the story about John Wood's loan, and had got it a little
+awry.
+
+"Now, how foolish you be," he said, in a confidential tone. "Can't
+you see that if you cave in now, after stan'in' out nine hours"--and
+he looked at a silver watch with a brass chain, and stroked his
+goatee--"nine hours and twenty-seven minutes--that you've made jest
+rumpus enough so as't he won't dare to foreclose on you, for fear
+they'll say you went back on a trade. On t'other hand, if you hold
+clear out, he'll turn you out-o'-doors to-morrow, for a blind, so 's
+to look as if there wa'n't no trade between you. Once he gits off, he
+won't know Joseph, you bet! That's what I'd do," he added, with a sly
+laugh. "Take your uncle's advice."
+
+"The only trouble with that," said Eli, shortly, "is that I don't owe
+him anything."
+
+"Oh," said the peddler; "that makes a difference. I understood you
+did."
+
+Three o'clock came, and brought Mr. Eldridge. He found Eli worn out
+with excitement.
+
+"Now I don't judge you the way the others do," said Mr. Eldridge, in a
+low tone, with his hand on Eli's knee. "I know, as I told you, just
+the way you feel. But we can't help such things. Suppose, now, that
+I had kept dark, and allowed to the owners that that man was always
+sober, and I had heard, six months after, of thirty or forty men going
+to the bottom because the captain was a little off his base; and then
+to think of their wives and children at home. We have to do some hard
+things; but I say, do the square thing, and let her slide."
+
+"But I can't believe he's guilty," said Eli.
+
+"But don't you allow," said Mr. Eldridge, "that eleven men are more
+sure to hit it right than one man?"
+
+"Yes," said Eli, reluctantly, "as a general thing."
+
+"Well, there's always got to be some give to a jury, just as in
+everything else, and you ought to lay right down on the rest of us. It
+isn't as if we were at all squirmish. Now, you know that if you hold
+out, he'll be tried again."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"Got to be--no other way," said Mr Eldridge. "Now, the next time,
+there won't be anybody like you to stand out, and the judge'll know
+of this scrape, and he'll just sock it to him."
+
+Eli turned uneasily in his chair.
+
+"And then it won't be understood in your place, and folks'll turn
+against you every way, and, what's worse, let you alone."
+
+"I can stand it," said Eli, angrily. "Let 'em do as they like. They
+can't kill me."
+
+"They can kill your wife and break down your children," said Mr.
+Eldridge. "Women and children can't stand it. Now there's that man
+they were speaking of; he lived down my way. He sued a poor, shiftless
+fellow that had come from Pennsylvania to his daughter's funeral, and
+had him arrested and taken off, crying, just before the funeral
+begun--after they'd even set the flowers on the coffin; and nobody'd
+speak to him after that--they just let him alone; and after a while
+his wife took sick of it--she was a nice, kindly woman--and she had
+sort of hysterics, and, finally, he moved off West. And 'twasn't long
+before the woman died. Now, you can't undertake to do different from
+everybody else."
+
+"Well," said Eli; "I know I wish it was done with."
+
+Mr. Eldridge stretched his arms and yawned. Then he began to walk up
+and down, and hum, out of tune. Then he stopped at Captain Thomas's
+chair.
+
+"Suppose we try a ballot," he said. "He seems to give a little."
+
+In a moment the foreman rapped.
+
+"It is time we were taking another ballot, gentlemen," he said.
+
+The sleepers rose, grumbling, from uneasy dreams.
+
+"I will write 'guilty' on twelve ballots," said the foreman, "and if
+any one desires to write in 'not,' of course he can."
+
+When the hat came to Eli, he took one of the ballots and held it in
+his hand a moment; and then he laid it on the table. There was a
+general murmur. The picture which Mr. Eldridge had drawn loomed up
+before him. But with a hasty hand he wrote in "not," dropped in the
+ballot, and going back to his chair by the window, sat down.
+
+There was a cold wave of silence.
+
+Then Eli suddenly walked up to the foreman and faced him.
+
+"Now," he said, "we'll stop. The very next turn breaks ground. If you,
+or any other man that you set on, tries to talk to me when I don't
+want to hear, to worry me to death--look out!"
+
+How the long hours wore on! How easy, sometimes, to resist an open
+pressure, and how hard, with the resistance gone, to fight, as one
+that beats the air! How the prospect of a whole hostile town loomed
+up, in a mirage, before Eli! And then the picture rose before him of a
+long, stately bark, now building, whose owner had asked him yesterday
+to be first mate. And if his wife were only well, and he were only
+free from this night's trouble, how soon, upon the long, green waves,
+he could begin to redeem his little home!
+
+And then came Mr. Eldridge, kind and friendly, to have another little
+chat.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Morning came, cold and drizzly. An officer knocked at the door, and
+called out, "Breakfast." And, in a moment, unwashed, and all uncombed,
+except the tin-peddler, who always carried a beard-comb in his pocket,
+they were marched across the street to the hotel.
+
+There were a number of men on the piazza waiting to see them--jurymen,
+witnesses, and the accused himself, for he was on bail. He had seen
+the procession the night before, and, like the others, had read its
+meaning.
+
+"Eli knows I wouldn't do it," he had said to himself, "and he's going
+to hang out, sure."
+
+The jury began to turn from the court-house door. Everybody looked. A
+file of two men, another file, another, another; would there come
+three men, and then one? No; Eli no longer walked alone.
+
+Everybody looked at Wood; he turned sharply away.
+
+But this time the order of march in fact showed nothing, one way or
+the other. It only meant that the judge, who had happened to see the
+jury the night before returning from their supper, had sent for the
+high sheriff in some temper--for judges are human--and had vigorously
+intimated that if that statesman did not look after his fool of a
+deputy, who let a jury parade secrets to the public view, he
+would----!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The jury were in their room again. At nine o'clock came a rap, and a
+summons from the court.
+
+The prosecuting attorney was speaking with the judge when they went
+in. In a moment he took his seat.
+
+"John Wood!" called out the clerk, and the defendant arose. His
+attorney was not there.
+
+"Mr. Foreman!" said the judge, rising. The jury arose. The silence of
+the crowded court-room was intense.
+
+"Before the clerk asks you for a verdict, gentlemen," said the judge,
+"I have something of the first importance to say to you, which has but
+this moment come to my knowledge."
+
+Eli changed color, and the whole court-room looked at him.
+
+"There were some most singular rumors, after the case was given to
+you, gentlemen, to the effect that there had been in this cause a
+criminal abuse of justice. It is painful to suspect, and shocking to
+know, that courts and juries are liable ever to suffer by such
+unprincipled practices. After ten years upon the bench, I never
+witness a conviction of crime without pain; but that pain is light,
+compared with the distress of knowing of a wilful perversion of
+justice. It is a relief to me to be able to say to you that such
+instances are, in my judgment, exceedingly rare, and--so keen is the
+awful searching power of truth--are almost invariably discovered."
+
+The foreman touched his neighbor with his elbow. Eli folded his arms.
+
+"As I said," continued the judge, "there were most singular rumors.
+During the evening and the night, rumor, as is often the case, led to
+evidence, and evidence has led to confession and to certainty. And the
+district attorney now desires me to say to you that the chief officer
+of the bank--who held the second key to the safe--is now under arrest
+for a heavy defalcation, which a sham robbery was to conceal, and that
+you may find the prisoner at the bar--not guilty. I congratulate you,
+gentlemen, that you had not rendered an adverse verdict."
+
+"Your Honor!" said Eli; and he cleared his throat; "I desire it to be
+known that, even as the case stood last night, this jury had not
+agreed to convict, and never would have!"
+
+There was a hush, while a loud scratching pen indorsed the record of
+acquittal. Then Wood walked down to the jury-box and took Eli's hand.
+
+"Just what I told my wife all through," he said. "I knew you'd hang
+out!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Eli's jury was excused for the rest of the day, and by noon he was in
+his own village, relieved, too, of his most pressing burden: for
+George Cahoon had met him on the road, and told him that he was not
+going to the West, after all, for the present, and should not need his
+money. But, as he turned the bend of the road and neared his house, he
+felt a rising fear that some disturbing rumor might have reached his
+wife about his action on the jury. And, to his distress and amazement,
+there she was, sitting in a chair at the door.
+
+"Lizzie!" he said, "what does this mean? Are you crazy?"
+
+"I'll tell you what it means," she said, as she stood up with a little
+smile and clasped her hands behind her. "This morning, it got around
+and came to me that you was standing out all alone for John Wood, and
+that the talk was that they'd be down on you, and drive you out of
+town, and that everybody pitied _me--pitied me_! And when I heard
+that, I thought I'd see! And my strength seemed to come all back, and
+I got right up, and dressed myself. And what's more, I'm going to get
+well now!"
+
+And she did.
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG STRONG OF "THE CLARION."
+
+BY MILICENT WASHBURN SHINN.
+
+_Overland Monthly, September, 1884._
+
+
+If you had asked any resident of Green's Ferry some eight years
+ago--say, in '76--who were the leading men of his town, he would
+doubtless have begun:
+
+"Well, there's Judge Garvey, of course. Then there's Uncle Billy
+Green, who built the first shanty there in '49, and young Strong of
+'The Clarion'--"
+
+However he might continue his enumeration, it would certainly
+have been as above for the first three names. One you would have
+recognized, if you had been following State politics closely for some
+years; for Judge Garvey was very regularly chosen State senator in his
+district, and had held the barren honor of presidential elector the
+last time his party carried the State. In '76, some of the papers were
+urging his nomination for Congress, and politicians thought his
+chance of such a nomination increasing. It has not turned out so; his
+name has quite dropped out of the papers, and it is said he does not
+certainly control his own county now; but at that time he was the most
+potent political influence in three counties. What he influenced them
+to, I never clearly understood, for I cannot recall that I ever heard
+his name mentioned in connection with any measure or opinion.
+
+A file of "The Clarion" during the four years that young Strong was
+editor would doubtless throw light on the matter. "The Clarion" was at
+this time a sort of voice crying in the wilderness about Reform, which
+was a very new idea, indeed, to its readers. Garvey did not like the
+paper, and young Strong disliked Garvey very much; but the two men had
+kept on fairly good terms--not so rigid good terms, of course, as to
+forbid their expressing to third parties the frankest contempt for
+each other. The Judge had here the advantage, for Strong despised him
+indignantly, as a knave, while he despised Strong--or said he
+did--pityingly, as a fool. He must, however, have at bottom honored
+the young fellow with some serious antipathy; for it was after all no
+laughing matter that a boy of twenty-five should come into "his Gaul,
+which he had conquered by arms," and filch away his home paper from
+under his very eyes. Moreover, though people read the editorials,
+laughed, and voted with the Judge just the same--they still did read
+them. However, Judge Garvey certainly was more civil to Strong than
+Strong was to him.
+
+As for Uncle Billy Green, his rank was due not only to his connection
+with the "first shanty" (a house of entertainment at the point where
+a trail turned from the river toward the mines), but to his having
+remained steadily on the spot ever since, putting up a larger
+building at intervals as the settlement gathered around him, until
+now he was proprietor of the American Eagle Hotel, a house of goodly
+dimensions and generous equipment--billiard-room, bowling alley,
+shooting-gallery. Nor did Uncle Billy Green own and conduct this house
+in a purely business spirit; a more modest one would have been more
+profitable; he liked to "do that much for the town." A man by the name
+of Gulliver had established the old rope-ferry, before the day of
+bridges, but it was naturally called Green's Ferry, being a ferry at
+Green's place. He had been of an undoubted valor in the Indian fights
+of early days, was full of reminiscences, had no personal objections
+to anybody or anything, and had long given over to Judge Garvey the
+trouble of forming his opinions.
+
+Judge Garvey and young Strong were pretty sure to be put upon such
+boards or committees as the local affairs of the small town demanded;
+and in local matters they proved to pull together fairly well, however
+at odds they were politically. But in the end it was not over
+politics, but over the district school, that they fell out squarely.
+They were both trustees, and as Green was the third, the board seemed
+in little danger from any too radical reforming tendencies young
+Strong might be guilty of, and the Judge had no thought of danger as
+he walked down to "The Clarion" office, a breathless September
+afternoon, a couple of days before the school should open.
+
+He found young Strong in his editorial room. This was a corner of the
+printing-office, fenced off by a great screen pasted over with old
+exchanges. Behind this, Strong sat at his table, correcting proof
+energetically. It was evident that he took the editing of this little
+four-page weekly rather seriously--but, then, a man must needs be
+business-like to produce even four pages weekly with one assistant,
+and Strong had to economize time enough from strictly editorial
+functions to do a goodly share of type-setting and the rest of the
+mechanics of the office.
+
+"I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Mr. Strong," said the Judge.
+"I perceive you are arduously occupied. But it becomes necessary to
+confer with you with regard to the school-teacher."
+
+The Judge was a tall and vigorously built man--a little red-faced, but
+good-looking, if one did not insist on too fine a definiteness of
+outline. He spoke habitually with a certain inflation of manner, and
+tried to form himself upon a Southern type that was pretty abundant in
+our politics some years earlier. He was, however, a native of rural
+New York, early transplanted to California.
+
+Strong turned in his chair, and sitting sidewise, rested his elbow on
+the proof-sheets, holding the pencil still in his fingers.
+
+"Well?" he said. "I thought everything was settled."
+
+"Assuredly." Judge Garvey rested his folded arms upon the pile of
+books stacked at the rear of the table, and leaned over them in a
+friendly way. "Mr. Coakley is to arrive Sunday evening, and will
+begin the term on Monday morning, to the great satisfaction, I
+can guarantee, of all concerned. A slight and merely temporary
+embarrassment has arisen, with respect to which a few words will
+make it all right. In point of fact, the young woman with whom we
+previously held correspondence--who, you will remember, broke her
+engagement with us to take a more advantageous position--is here."
+
+The Judge stopped for question or comment, but as Strong waited for
+explanation, he went on:
+
+"She has, it appears, failed after all to secure that, and come here
+expecting to fall back upon our school, not having heard that it was
+engaged."
+
+"Well, that's unfortunate for her," said Strong, "but you can't ship
+Coakley now."
+
+"Your views coincide exactly with my own, my dear sir." The Judge
+straightened up with some relief. "I have only to ask, then, for a
+note to the lady to that effect, that my own explanation already given
+may be corroborated."
+
+Strong began to look alert and suspicious at this.
+
+"Views coincide?" he said. "What two views could there be? What does
+she say brought her here?"
+
+"She's got an idea that she's got first claim on the place," said the
+Judge, plumping suddenly into colloquial diction. He had a trick of
+doing so when he got down to business. It would have had something the
+effect of candid confession, produced by a maiden's plain-hair days
+alternated with her waved-hair days, had not the grandiloquence of
+tone and manner become so far second nature that it ran through both
+his dialects, and lessened the contrast. "You can't always make a
+woman see sense."
+
+Strong looked suspiciously at him a few seconds. "Well, I'll go see
+her this evening," he said. "Where's she staying?"
+
+"That is a totally superfluous tax on your time, my dear Strong," said
+the Judge, leaning persuasively across the books again. "I have here
+a mere formal line, stating that Coakley is the regularly engaged
+teacher of the school, and will begin next Monday; your signature
+to it--Green's and mine are already there--will be all that is
+necessary." He pushed pen and ink toward Strong with his exaggerated
+air of courtesy.
+
+"Oh, I'm not going to sign things that way, you know. I'll go see
+her." He turned and drew his proof-sheets to him with an air of
+dismissal.
+
+The Judge stood up very straight, expanded his chest, and folded his
+arms according to his conception of the Virginian manner. "Am I to
+understand, sir, that you question my veracity?"
+
+"I don't question anything," said the young man, impatiently. "I'll
+know what I'm talking about when I've seen her."
+
+"Permit me to suggest, sir"--the Judge was approaching his platform
+manner--"permit me to suggest, sir, that Mr. Green and myself
+constitute a majority of the board, and Mr. Green, sir--Uncle Billy
+Green--has confidence in my honor, and will sustain my action,
+whatever line you may be persuaded to adopt."
+
+"Oh, as to that," said Strong, exaggerating his crispness of manner in
+protest against the Judge's staginess, "I'm clerk of the board, and
+you can't hold a legal meeting nor pay a salary without me. What's the
+reason you don't want me to see her?"
+
+Judge Garvey unfolded his arms, fell back a step, and dropped easily
+into the sonorous declamation that made the stalwart Judge no
+inconspicuous figure on the floor of the Legislature. The newspapers,
+of course, were responsible for his language--as for the rest of
+his education; but such as it was, he used it fluently, and the
+declamatory manner was, to his constituency, quite an essential of
+eloquence--the prime difference, in fact, between oratory and plain
+talking.
+
+"You cast aspersions upon my honor, sir. Through me you insult the
+people of Green's Ferry--of this county--of this district--the
+enlightened and honorable constituency who it is my proud honor to
+represent. I sco-r-n to answer your insinuations, sir. They will
+be hurled back upon yourself by the united voice and righteous
+indignation of my justly aroused fellow-townsmen, by the voters of
+this noble district--I may say, by the whole State of California--to
+which I am not unknown, sir."
+
+Half-a-dozen of the justly aroused fellow-townsmen were straggling in
+from the street, for in Green's Ferry a sprinkling of the citizens
+spend the warm afternoons sitting in absolute tranquillity on boxes
+and barrels here and there, under the awnings of the several business
+blocks; and the knowledge that a row was at last on between Judge
+Garvey and young Strong reached them at the first peal. The Judge,
+alive to the increase of his audience, raised his voice a shade, and
+went on with a curious mixture of complacency and genuine wrath.
+
+"Is it lack of confidence that has sent me to represent my honorable
+constituency in the legislative halls of California, Mr. Strong? Have
+I received that proud token of esteem only to be insulted by one whose
+obscurity is his only shield; who, with unknown record, with no
+recommendation save his own overwhelming self-esteem, comes among us
+to sow dissent in peaceful counsels, and draw scorn and contempt upon
+his own head by impotent and futile attacks upon those whom he is
+powerless to harm?"
+
+This rounded the climax well, so the Judge only added: "The call you
+propose, sir, I shall regard as a direct insult to myself," and strode
+dramatically from the room.
+
+The papered screen went crashing to the floor behind him. The justly
+aroused fellow-townsmen looked after him, laughing but admiring.
+
+"Laid you out, didn't he, Strong?"
+
+"That's the way he does it at Sacramento. Oh, the Judge is a real
+orator--there's no doubt of that."
+
+"_He_ don't have to make his speech up before-hand. No, sir, right
+where he is, any time of day, he just turns the faucet, and there it
+comes."
+
+"What was the row, anyway, Strong?"
+
+"I don't know myself; something about a teacher--he began to bluster
+all of a sudden." Strong walked over to the screen, picked it up, set
+it straight along a crack with intense precision, and went back to his
+seat. "Drunk, isn't he? I haven't heard him take the stump that way
+since election. He's always made rather a point of not quarrelling
+with me, too."
+
+"Oh, he's no drunker'n usual," answered with candor a fellow-townsman.
+"The Judge ain't really himself until he's a little off. He didn't
+blow so without some reason; don't you fool yourself--not if _I_ know
+the man."
+
+"Well, if he's got any game he must have come to his last chance in
+it, to try bullying on _me_," said Strong; and then another of the
+group asked:
+
+"What row could there be about a teacher, Strong? Thought you'd given
+him his man."
+
+The pencil rolled from the edge of the table across the floor at
+Strong's movement of attention. "Coakley?--what of him?"
+
+The man began to laugh, and one or two others joined in. One of them
+said a little offensively: "Pretty good on you, youngster! You took
+too big a contract for your age when you undertook to keep up with
+Judge Garvey. He'll give you odds and take you in, every time."
+
+Strong reddened a little, but waited to be answered with very fair
+composure.
+
+"Didn't you really know, Strong? The Judge scored one on you that
+time, then. Why, he's been Garvey's man in Sierra Township one or two
+elections now. Used to be a Millerite preacher, before your day, but
+he broke down at that. Good hand in county politics, but he's always
+completely out of business between times. Why you remember him,
+Strong--he was round with the Judge election times--cross-eyed fellow,
+with black siders."
+
+"_That_ fellow? Why, he can't spell straight! The way of it was, Judge
+Garvey told us only Tuesday that the teacher we'd got--first-rate
+certificates--had backed out; and we couldn't put off beginning school
+any longer, nor hear of any teacher to be had; so when he produced
+this man, we had really no choice. I suppose I needn't ask where he
+got his certificates."
+
+"No--Garvey's solid with this county board and superintendent."
+
+"Disgraceful!" said Strong; whereat all laughed, except one who had
+lost a ranch a few years before during business dealings with the
+Judge.
+
+"Oh, he's a scamp--I wouldn't trust him out of sight with his baby's
+silver mug," said this man, with feeling. The rest laughed again. In
+Green's Ferry a certain easy-going good-heartedness is required by the
+public conscience, rather than decalogue virtues. Garvey liked sharp
+practice--all right; if you were yourself hurt, you would naturally
+begin to vote against him; otherwise, it was none of your business,
+except as successful rascality had a claim on your admiration. Young
+Strong liked to write furious reform editorials--all right; if you
+were the one hit, you would swear at Strong and stop your subscription
+until a hit on some one else made you renew it; otherwise, it was none
+of your business and lively reading. They leaned against the wall and
+desk, and began with perfect good-nature to tell stories of the Judge.
+"R'member the time he got that Mexican ranch? Fellow thought it was a
+bill of sale for thirty acres he was signing, and it was three
+hundred."
+
+"Best thing was when he made old man Meeker believe he was dying, and
+deed over a good fifty thousand dollars in stock to his daughter--and
+married the girl, sir, before the old fellow found he was good for
+twenty years more. He made the air smell of brimstone the rest of his
+life if you mentioned Garvey to him! Drowned in a ford a winter or two
+later, after all. Used to live in a little shanty up Indian Crick and
+raise potatoes--and Garvey sent him a cow--cheekiest thing!"
+
+Strong turned sharply away from the laugh that followed, and went on
+with his work, while they slowly dispersed. He worked on savagely with
+brows drawn together. "It isn't so much the existence of scoundrels
+like Garvey that gets me," he was saying to himself, "as the way the
+whole crowd of them take him." He stopped to read over the words he
+was correcting--they were editorial:
+
+"Was ever folly greater than this of our community, in dropping
+everything else to run after money. For what do you expect to do with
+it when you get it? Better eating, and drinking, and the privilege of
+being toadied to by those who want to make something out of you--what
+more can you get out of money, if you have never made anything of
+_yourself_? Just as a pig, if he might take his choice whether he
+would be turned into a man or would be moved into a cosier sty, with
+more unbounded swill, would doubtless choose the sty!"
+
+"My broom against the ocean," he said; but he went on correcting
+doggedly.
+
+And, not to conceal from you what was in reality the most significant
+fact about Will Strong--the key to about everything he thought and
+did--he was mentally submitting this editorial, as he had submitted
+every other he had written, to the test of the probable opinion of
+a young woman he had not seen nor heard from for two years, but
+who nevertheless constituted to his mind the chief motive for
+existence--if not the chief and sufficient explanation of the human
+race's having been created at all. You must realize, before trying to
+understand his story, that Will Strong was really a very romantic
+young man indeed, though he pretended to Green's Ferry that he was
+not.
+
+Outside the screen, the strips of sun through the western window and
+open door lengthened across the meagre collection of dusty fonts of
+type, the small press, the piles of papers. The black-fingered,
+red-haired boy setting type among them reflected that it must be
+nearly dinner-time, and turned to see how far in the hot strips had
+crept--turned, and stood staring; for he met squarely the inquiring
+look of a pair of clear eyes, and became aware of a lady in the
+door-way.
+
+It is probable that Jim had never dreamed in his life of any other
+social distinction than that between rich and poor, notorious and
+obscure, nor was he a lad of perceptions; yet he knew at once that
+this was a very unusual sort of lady for Green's Ferry. If he had been
+a man of the social world he would have known that she was a
+gentlewoman of notably high-bred appearance. She glanced, not without
+dismay, about the shabby work-room, as if she felt herself where she
+had no business to be. Nevertheless, she came forward frankly, and
+asked in the friendly way of one whose station needs no asserting:
+
+"Mr. Strong?--one of the school-board?--Is he here?"
+
+"Yes'm." The boy made no motion, but stood blankly staring.
+
+"May I see him, please?"
+
+"Lady to see you, Mr. Strong," shouted Jim, standing still.
+
+In the few seconds before Strong emerged, the lady stood her ground in
+the middle of the floor, with some appearance of anxiety. She was
+certainly a very noticeable person, and came nearer to warranting that
+strong word "beautiful" than falls often to the lot of woman. It was a
+matter of outline more than color, however, for she had not much of
+that about her--brown hair, blue-gray eyes, skin of a warm paleness.
+All this low coloring, however, was so perfect of its sort, that it
+gave something the effect of a fine etching--a rich distinctness
+attained by shades, not colors. Instead of being outshone by more
+brilliant-hued women, Miss Northrop had always had the effect of
+making them look chromo-like. So, too, a certain nobility and
+self-forgetfulness of manner made the more elaborate manners of others
+seem the crude device of inferiority. It was a good deal due to
+her eyes; she had most wonderful eyes, and I doubt if any man or
+many women ever met them in a full look without feeling a little
+stir of pulse--whether it was in the lashes, or in the sweet
+straightforwardness of look, utterly devoid of coquetry, or in the
+depth of the gray, or in what; certain it is that no one ever saw Miss
+Northrop without talking of her beautiful eyes.
+
+"A lady to see him?" The word in Green's Ferry defined only the sex.
+Some one with a notice of a flock of sheep for sale, which she wanted
+to get in as a local; or with an ill-spelled poem; or--by George,
+yes--that school-mistress. Lucky she had not met Garvey there--poor
+girl! Strong laid his pencil down, and came out from behind the screen
+good-naturedly enough--and stopped short. What a thing to happen to a
+man, that he should live and move and have his being for a dozen years
+in the thought of one woman, should count a world worth living in
+because she was somewhere on it, and a pitiful human race worth
+working for because they were her fellow-creatures--and should come
+out from behind his screen, and see her before his eyes--on his dingy
+work-room floor--out of her four thousand miles' distance!
+
+They had been four years schoolmates in a New England High School.
+Will was a farmer's lad, from an outlying, rocky village, who worked
+for his board while he went to school. He came of an unschooled,
+hard-working, God-fearing yeoman race. Winifred could look up every
+line of her descent, through vista of governors, college-presidents,
+and ministers, back to Colonial aristocracy and gentry beyond sea.
+Her great-grandfathers had carried swords in Revolutionary battles,
+where Will's had followed with muskets. Winifred herself was
+one of those flowers into which excellent family trees break
+occasionally--flowers so lovely that no excellence of the tree seems
+enough to account for them. If she had any core of aristocratic
+coldness, it was so overlaid by a sweet humaneness, a frank generosity
+of impulse, that no one would have known it. If she had been a man, to
+have a valet, she would have been a hero to him.
+
+Even in the democracy of school, Will Strong knew well enough the
+difference between his shy awkwardness and her pleasant frankness; and
+knew that though he could meet school requirements about as well as
+she, yet his mental range was crude and narrow beside hers; and any
+one could see that in the town where he was an unknown boy she was an
+important young lady. These things would not have counted for much had
+not some mediæval follower of some exiled king dropped down into the
+boy's temperament that passion of self-abasing loyalty that is rather
+an anachronism in our democratic days. They had been on terms of
+friendliness rather than friendship in school, but that was due more
+to his shyness than anything else. She had really given to him more
+opportunities than to most of her schoolmates; she liked his integrity
+and earnestness.
+
+He had looked to college as the natural door between his world and
+hers; after four years at New Haven he might seek her acquaintance
+without audacity. To that end he had laboriously accumulated money,
+and had even passed his matriculation, when his father's death made
+him indispensable on the poor little farm. Since then he had doggedly
+plodded alone through the college curriculum, but without finding in
+it the mysterious pass-word that he had expected into the intellectual
+aristocracy. Some two years before, his mother's death and the growing
+up of younger brothers had left him free to seek his fortune in
+California. At twenty-seven he had lost his fresh look and boyish
+shyness; he looked older than he was, but he was really very youthful,
+and believed in all sorts of abstractions beginning with capitals.
+His mental furniture, being obtained from books, not people, was not
+quite in the style of the present decade, and he read Carlyle and
+Emerson more than Herbert Spencer. His creed had, therefore, quite
+transcendentalism enough to accommodate without incongruity his little
+private deification.
+
+Once in every year or two, as opportunity took him near her home, he
+had called on her, and had multiplied each call mightily by thinking
+of it before and after. He had also kept up a stupid correspondence
+with a schoolmate who had lived in the same town with her, for the
+chance of her name being mentioned. Within a couple of years, however,
+she had lost her father and gone to relatives in New York, so he had
+lost exact knowledge even of her whereabouts.
+
+She spoke before he had found his voice--without an instant's
+hesitation, indeed. "Oh, Will Strong!" she cried, stepping quickly
+toward him and holding out her hand. "I _hoped_ it was you!"
+
+He took the offered hand, and said to himself that his own was
+consecrated by the touch to clean deeds forever. He would not have
+known how to address her, but he followed her leading.
+
+"It is Winifred Northrop!" he said. "What is it? Can I do something
+for you?"
+
+"You are school-committee man, are you not?" Anxiety, relief, and
+trust mingled in her voice.
+
+"Trustee--yes. Why," he cried, "it isn't possible that _you_ are the
+lady!"
+
+She laughed. "I suppose the lady must be I."
+
+He did not smile. He even lost color with wrath. "Garvey has dared to
+play you some trick!--I did not dream--" he went on, eagerly, "Garvey
+kept the letters in his hands, and bungled over the name, so I did not
+once fairly catch it."
+
+He turned back to his corner, and put the remaining bit of proof into
+his pocket. New heavens and new earth had come into existence since
+the last pencil mark on it.
+
+"Jim," he said, "I'm called off on school-business. You get as much of
+that set up as you can before dinner, and then lock up; and I'll come
+down and make the corrections in the editorials before I go to bed.
+Now--Winifred--if I may walk home with you, we'll get to the bottom
+of Garvey's tricks. Villain!"
+
+The epithet was so fervent, and so entirely without humorous intent,
+that Miss Northrop laughed again as they walked out into the dull, hot
+September afternoon sun. The board sidewalk was uneven and full of
+projecting nails and splinters, and she held her thin, blue-gray dress
+prettily aside from them; Will noted the gesture with admiration as
+intense as unreasonable. It seemed to him peculiarly admirable that
+she should draw her hat a little forward to shade her eyes, and should
+take just the length of step that she did; the absolutely right step
+for a lady was thenceforth settled; since then, he has insisted
+unreasonably upon a certain shade as the only right thing in gray, as
+if he held in his own mind some positive standard beyond the realm of
+variable taste.
+
+The two or three business blocks--rows of slight frame-buildings, more
+of them saloons than would seem possible--were very quiet; Green's
+Ferry is the shipping point of a wide stock-raising district, and
+all its activity centres about the railroad station at stated times
+daily. The justly aroused fellow-townsmen were all back under the
+awnings--leaning against the wall by the post-office, sitting on boxes
+by the grocery; some indolently telling stories and chaffing; some
+looking sleepily before them in absolute repose; some in various
+stages of inert drunkenness. All stared curiously at young Strong and
+the strange lady, and prepared to talk them over afterward, but no
+one addressed him.
+
+They turned aside soon into a broad cross street with no sidewalk,
+where the coarse dust was in places ankle deep. Behind them, beyond
+the main street, a few groups of yellowing cottonwoods on bare banks
+of reddish clay marked the course of the Sacramento; before them the
+street faded into a limitless expanse of gravel, thinly dotted in the
+distance with dull green oaks, and bounded by long knolls, like
+wrinkles in the plain, dark with oaks against the smoky sky of
+September--a sky dull blue above, dull gray near the horizon.
+
+Along either side of the street the flimsy wooden houses were set
+back, each in its yard, and surrounded by oleanders; sometimes there
+would be a few parched roses, a trellis of Madeira-vine, a patch of
+carefully nursed grass, often a row of China trees, whose fallen
+black seeds stippled the dust--but always the great rosy clumps of
+oleanders, glorying in the heat and drought. Every evening after
+dinner the owners come out, and stand watering these gardens with hose
+and sprinkler, till all along the street there is a murmur like rain
+and a smell of damp earth, and here and there through the warm
+twilight a glimpse of the white sprays of water; while the families
+sit on the porches and doorstep, and gossip and laugh. At this hour,
+however, the little gardens and splendid oleanders lay hot and
+deserted in the dusty afternoon.
+
+"I haven't till now had time to spare from being anxious to be
+interested," Miss Northrop said. "I was rather panic-stricken this
+morning, and things were awful, instead of interesting, in proportion
+to their newness."
+
+This bit of pathos stiffened Will's manner with the awkwardness of
+over-feeling, as he asked: "Now, what can I do for you--Winifred?"
+
+The awkwardness made him more like the school-boy Will; and then, a
+familiar face four thousand miles from home seems more familiar than
+it really is. Miss Northrop answered confidingly: "I will tell you all
+about it, and then you will know what to do. I wrote to Judge
+Garvey--some one referred me to him at Sacramento--and asked if I
+might teach the school. He wrote back that I might, fixed the day, and
+directed me to a boarding-place that he had engaged for me. So I came
+by yesterday evening's train, and sent word that I was here. This
+morning he called and told me--with most oppressive civility--that as
+I had not answered his last letter, the place had been given to some
+one else. He said 'professional etiquette' here demands an answer in
+such a case, and failure to answer is equivalent to a withdrawal of
+the application."
+
+"He lied," said Will, parenthetically, walking along with his eyes on
+the ground; she, on the contrary, looked at him often, with frank
+directness.
+
+"He did not impress me," she said, "as the soul of candor. I said as
+little as possible to him, but when he was gone I asked about the rest
+of the committee, and as soon as I heard your name I hoped it was you;
+I knew you were somewhere in California. This afternoon I received his
+letter written to prevent my coming. It had followed me up here by the
+same train that I came on." She held the letter in her hand, and Will
+quietly took it and kept it. "I would not raise any controversy about
+such a thing," she went on, "if I had any idea in the world where else
+to go or what to do." Her voice sharpened a little again, with a note
+of pathos.
+
+Will did not know how to answer without seeming to question or
+comment, so there came a pause; then he said:
+
+"This Coakley was an electioneering agent of Garvey's, and doesn't
+know enough to teach babies. He seems to have turned up suddenly
+wanting help, and the Judge is willing enough to keep him on hand and
+under obligations until next election."
+
+Miss Northrop stopped short and looked at him with brows a little
+raised, and her bearing became impalpably more distant.
+
+"But I cannot enter into contest with--these men for permission to
+teach school here," she said.
+
+She was right, in her quick feeling that Will Strong's training could
+not have made work and discomfort and contact with vulgarity seem
+outside the sphere of women. If it had been one of his own sisters he
+would have said: "Oh, well, we have to take the world as we find it.
+Brace up, little girl; I'll put you safe through, and you'll find it's
+not so bad, after all."
+
+But what he said to Winifred Northrop was: "It is outrageous! Such
+brutes as Garvey have no business to look at a lady! If you really
+prefer not to take the school," he went on, with some embarrassment,
+"I hope you will call on me to help you in any other way; but if you
+want the school you shall have it, and no annoyance with it that I can
+help."
+
+Miss Northrop repented that she had repented her confidence. "I
+remembered that you were kind of old, Will"--and her manner was
+irresistibly winning when she said such a thing--"but you are so very
+kind now that you make me ashamed. I only meant to ask you what I must
+do. Yes, I must take this position if I can, for I have no
+alternative."
+
+"There is nothing for you to do," he said. "It is my place, as an
+officer of the school, to see that its rightful teacher is not
+defrauded."
+
+"So it is," she said, relieved. "But I am none the less grateful."
+
+"It is a pleasure to me to be able to do anything for you," he said,
+gravely, somewhat stiffly--from his tone you would not have suspected
+much more truth than usual in the formula.
+
+She only said: "You are very kind," and then he lifted his hat, and
+left her at Mrs. Stutt's gate.
+
+He deliberately and literally believed, as he walked down the
+street--directly to Green's--that he was the happiest man in the
+world. For that matter, it is not impossible that he was. He was
+absolutely innocent of conscious hyperbole in saying, "It would be
+worth a life-time of trouble only to have _seen_ her; and I know her
+and am able to do her a service!"
+
+He scored one advantage in having seen Miss Northrop early; he saw
+Green before Garvey had talked with him. The report of the quarrel had
+by no means failed to reach "The American Eagle," and when Strong came
+in Uncle Billy Green was just expressing himself with regard to
+Coakley:
+
+"Of course the Judge'll provide for his man when he gets a chance.
+That's where he's sharp. And if Coakley is smart enough to suit Judge
+Garvey, he's smart enough to teach _my_ children--that's what _I_
+say."
+
+A private audience with him would have been merely postponing the hour
+of general discussion, so Strong made a brief exposition of his
+case--gently enough, but with considerable force--then and there,
+displaying the letter he carried by way of proof. He hardly expected
+to elicit anything but the usual laugh and comment on the Judge's
+smartness. But there was a marked seriousness of tone in the remarks
+when he ended.
+
+"Well, that _is_ pretty rough."
+
+"Yes, sir, that's going too far. The Judge ought to know where to
+stop. I don't stand by no man when it comes to a shabby trick on an
+unprotected school-marm."
+
+"A real lady, too--I could see that when she went by with you,
+Strong."
+
+Even Green said, uneasily, "No, I shouldn't think the Judge ought to
+do that, quite."
+
+It was evident that Green's Ferry drew its lines as much as any other
+town. The moral support it offered Strong was mainly negative,
+however, and Green, after several alternate conversations with his two
+fellow trustees during this Saturday evening, went off early Sunday
+morning to visit his married daughter at the old Meeker place, leaving
+word that they must fix it between them. Judge Garvey closed the
+somewhat stormy conference of Saturday evening with a promise to break
+down Miss Northrop's school in a week, and Strong's paper in a month.
+"Do you flatter yourself I should not have had your contemptible sheet
+in powder under my feet, sir, before this, if I had thought it worth
+the attention?" Nevertheless, as there was nothing on which the Judge
+prided himself more than on his invariable civility to ladies ("the
+courtly Judge" was his favorite phrase in writing up a local notice of
+any affair at which he had been present), Strong, having possession of
+the school-house key, was able to put Miss Northrop into possession on
+Monday morning without opposition. The Judge even visited her during
+the day and addressed the school with extreme suavity.
+
+He was, however, very seriously affronted, and had not passed his
+Sunday without diligent preparation among parents and children to make
+Miss Northrop's position untenable. It would have been no difficult
+task, either, but for an altogether unprecedented obstacle--a factor
+that he had not dreamed of in his calculations, and that Strong
+himself had underestimated. The children, who had gone to school
+Monday morning primed for mutiny, surrendered their hearts in a body
+to Miss Northrop by night; three days later, Uncle Billy Green's
+niece, who taught the primary school, gave in adoring allegiance; by
+the end of the week everybody who had seen her was her advocate. It
+was certainly an unprecedented thing that Judge Garvey's best
+exertions should come to naught, because of a woman's way of smiling
+and speaking; but Miss Northrop's tenure of the school was secure. It
+was not entirely speech and smile, however. Miss Northrop was
+interested in everything, and consequently had common ground with
+everybody; and she met each one on that ground, not so much ignoring
+as temporarily forgetting differences.
+
+The year wore on from gray to gray; the parching north wind poured
+down the plain and darkened the air with gritty dust; the sky, though
+cloudless, grew murkier every day. Then the wind shifted to the south,
+and the sky grew darker yet with surging heaps of clouds, and at last
+down came the late November rain; and next morning Miss Northrop could
+see, like a miraculous creation of the night, up and down every
+east-and-west street, a range of azure mountains along either horizon,
+snow-crowned, clear-cut, against an exquisite blue sky. Every two or
+three weeks the surge of clouds would come rolling up with the south
+wind, and the rain would come down in torrents for days, till the
+Sacramento, yellow with mud, roared level with its banks; and then the
+storm would break away, and there would be a week or two of blue sky
+and brilliant air and green earth.
+
+One Sunday in March, between the early and the latter rains, Miss
+Northrop and Will Strong walked out together several miles over the
+plain. The gravel had long disappeared under green burclover and
+_filaria_, thickly dotted with the little yellow clover blossoms, the
+lilac ones of the _filaria_, and with small blue gilias. The flocks
+and herds had been driven down from the mountains where they spend
+their summers and autumns, and the air was full of the bleating of
+lambs. Up and down either horizon, converging toward the north, were
+the long ranks of the Sierras and Coast Range, deep blue, ruggedly
+tipped with white peaks of all shapes--the Lassen Buttes, the Yallo
+Balleys, and many a lesser one. Northward, in the interval between the
+ranges, miles and miles away, the solitary peak of Shasta rose above
+the dark oak-knolls, sharp-white from base to tip, against a stainless
+sky. They sat down on the warm clover, beside a noisy yellow stream
+that ran full to its banks on its way to the Sacramento. Winifred
+pushed back her hat, dropped her hands in her lap, and let her senses
+be played upon by the delicious air, the blue and white of mountains
+and sky and clouds, the luminous green, the rushing of water close by,
+and the bleating of flocks in the distance. It gave Will a good chance
+to watch her face--the sweetness of the mouth; the nobility of the
+level brows; the frankness of the eyes; the soft wave of her hair.
+There was a marked sadness in her face in repose; to wonder why, was
+to transgress the code of loyal humility that Will set himself; he had
+not even considered it due chivalry to speculate, much less ask, as to
+the reason of so amazing a phenomenon as her presence in California at
+all, and the incongruity of her school-teaching. Her pose was perfect,
+and yet nothing could be more unconscious. Was that marvellous
+spontaneity, that simple dignity, the regular thing among the men and
+women Winifred belonged with? It made him feel left very far out to
+think so. How incapable of effort for admiration she was, yet how
+invariably admirable!
+
+She caught him looking at her, in time. "What is it?" she said,
+simply.
+
+He colored with some confusion, but confessed a piece of his thought.
+"I was wondering if you really do not care at all for admiration. Most
+people would think they got the good of their living in being praised
+a fraction as much as you've been. If that's impertinent I beg your
+pardon; you asked me."
+
+The portion of aristocrat's pride that was in Winifred was largely
+concentrated in an objection to talking of herself or letting other
+people do it; so she looked a little annoyed. She began with some
+constraint:
+
+"Yes--I care--at first--when it is the right one that praises. But
+there is always a reaction of self-distrust. It seems humiliating,"
+she went on more frankly, "to have been praised for having done some
+common thing--solved a problem, or written a poem, or handled a
+piano--a little more or less cleverly, when one comes to think what
+education and art are. And _personal_ admiration--that always seems a
+contemptible sort of folly, if you think of what great things there
+are to do and be in the world, and the lives the great lonely souls
+have lived."
+
+"Your achievement seems little to you," said Will, with some gloom,
+"because, I suppose, more always opens to you. To me, who have made
+none--"
+
+"Why, Will," she cried, with the most genuine dissent. "You have done
+more than almost any one I know. Do you call it nothing to do a
+college curriculum alone and under all sorts of hindrances? And I know
+that it was done well and thoroughly."
+
+"Oh, yes," he said, indifferently, tossing bits of clover into the
+stream, "I could have passed an A. B. fast enough. But you know better
+than I do, Winifred, that that's the least of a college course. I've
+seen fellows that had to work their way through and had no spare time
+or energy, and they always lacked a great deal of the college flavor;
+the education didn't permeate 'em. Then there are other things--music,
+art, social opportunities, capacity of expression--that are no slight
+things to miss; they make up more of first-class living than Greek
+optatives or the equation of a surface. It isn't really possible for a
+man, not backed by circumstances, to get himself into a position that
+some are born to." He let the clover be and looked up. "Oh, I'm not
+growling, Winifred," he said, hastily, smiling, as he saw her about to
+speak eagerly. "I'm only making philosophical observations, and using
+myself as an illustration. Why in the world should I growl to find
+myself stranded half way up, when there is a townful of people behind
+us clear down at the bottom, and no more their fault than mine? Why
+should I mind that I am left out from the best chances, any more than
+that a thousand other fellows are? 'What Act of Legislature was there
+that' _I_ should be cultured?"
+
+She was leaning forward with her irresistible eyes full on his, and
+face and voice vivified with that sympathetic expressiveness that
+makes speech count for far more than the words.
+
+"Will, that is true," she cried, "but it is only part of the truth.
+'Close thy' Carlyle; 'open thy' Emerson. It's true, you have missed
+some things that you deserved to have and that many of your inferiors
+have for nothing. But your life is only begun, and your ability and
+pluck can do so much that you needn't waste regret on anything they
+may fail to do. Even if circumstances be unconquerable that stand
+between you and some good things, are the things you have gained
+instead of less value?--your courage and patience, your self-reliance
+and trustworthiness and helpfulness? Why, Will, _character_ is worth
+more than knowledge of art, or familiarity with good society; just to
+live bravely is worth more than all the rest. Do you suppose I would
+exchange your companionship for that of a dozen 'cultured' people who
+could talk to me about 'sincere furniture'"--this was in the last
+decade, remember--"and Rauss's heads, as you can't, and who never
+showed me one spark of genuine feeling about the great things of life,
+as you can?"
+
+Will was overwhelmed. Winifred had talked of his affairs much,
+following them with unvarying interest, but of himself or herself,
+never; and it was actually a new idea to the young fellow that she
+could have any very high opinion of him. Moreover, it was the first
+time he had heard her speak with unveiled and ardent feeling.
+
+"You do not mean"--and he formed his words with difficulty--"that I
+could meet on equal ground people that--such people as _your_
+associates."
+
+"No; you would meet most of them on higher ground. If they didn't know
+it, that would be their discredit. I should think you could see
+that," she added, in a quick, parenthetic averse way, "from _their_
+associate. If you want to get a higher opinion of the value of your
+life, compare it with an ordinary, foolish, useless one--like mine."
+She gave him no chance to answer that, but was the next moment on her
+feet, suggesting that they walk on, and wishing they were not to stop
+short of the Lassen Buttes, whose apparent nearness, scores of miles
+distant as they were, was still a perpetual surprise to her eastern
+eyes.
+
+When everything has been made ready for it, a few sentences may easily
+make or mark an era in life; and it is probable that if Miss Northrop
+had not in effect told young Strong he was quite good enough for her,
+he might have remained her contented vassal for years. Six months of
+being her nearest friend worked their result, to be sure; but the
+humility they were gnawing at was of mediævally tough fibre, and of
+twice six years' growth. His depreciation of himself, however, had
+only meant sense of distance from her; therefore, his sense of the
+significance of her speech was enormous. He felt his relation to her
+changed; he was shaken from all his moorings, and thrown into a mighty
+agitation that possessed him night and day, and only grew with time.
+For this was what it all came to: Was the distance between Winifred
+and himself greater than the distance between her and any other man?
+And when he had once thought that, the gate was open, and the
+besieging host marched in and took possession of every corner of him
+with longing and desire and a madness of tenderness.
+
+He thought of nothing else. He wrote his editorials and set type under
+an unceasing sense of it, as people have done brain-work and
+finger-work to an accompaniment of unceasing physical pain. For there
+was nothing joyous about it to him; it was all a bitter pain of mad
+desire to be something to her--to secure her, somehow, before this
+great, dark future swept her away from him. And yet the latter rains
+came and went, the green faded from the ground, the mountains grew
+dimmer and duller, and at last disappeared in the summer murk, before
+he took in his own mind the next step--from lover to suitor, as before
+from vassal to lover.
+
+He did so simply because he could not stand it any longer. It stood to
+reason that there must be a way out of such active torments. And,
+after all, why not he as well as any other man? It was absurd to
+suppose that Winifred could ever be _in love_ with any man, as a man
+would be with her. It occurred to Will that the thing to do was
+natural enough, after all--not to ask Winifred's love, but to offer
+her his. And he walked down to Mrs. Stutt's to do it, one August
+evening, a little before school opened after vacation. He was in good
+spirits, too; to come to action and to speech, after so long
+repression, was an inestimable relief. And she had been doubly
+friendly to him all this time.
+
+Mrs. Stutt was in her little strip of grass and oleanders. "That you,
+Mr. Strong?" she called out cheerily as he lifted the gate-latch.
+"Well, Miss Northrop's in the sitting-room, I s'pose. You go right in,
+and I'll come in when I've done my watering."
+
+"Thank you," said Will, absently, and walked on into the house.
+Winifred was not in the dark little sitting-room. He walked to the
+open window and stood there, expecting her to come in presently. There
+were veils of Madeira vine over the window, just opening their whitish
+tassels of bloom, and the air was full of the smell of them. Mrs.
+Stutt began to water the grass outside, and the shower of water from
+her hose glimmered through the Madeira vine; the noise of the water
+came to him, and the crying of crickets, and the smell of the freshly
+wet earth. Then he heard a step on the porch, and saw Winifred go down
+the short path to the gate. He could see by her white dress that she
+stood still there; so he went out, too, to join her. Mrs. Stutt was
+watering at the other side of the house now, and the two were alone.
+
+Will stopped a moment in the darkness and faint odor of a great
+oleander, a few feet from the motionless girl at the gate, to realize
+well the grace of her dim white figure, and her unconscious attitude.
+She stood in a weary way, with her head a little fallen back, and her
+hands hanging loosely clasped before her. There was so much and so
+incomprehensible emotion in the attitude, that Will felt vaguely
+thrust out into another world from that where her interests lay. She
+had not heard him approach, for the train from the south was just
+coming to a stand at the station, not a stone's throw off, and there
+was a great noise of jarring cars, and shouting men, and escaping
+steam, and ringing bell. He waited till the noise should be quite
+over. Some one came walking rapidly from the station; Will, glancing
+at the dark figure, thought it had, even in this dimness, an
+unfamiliar look. It paused close by the gate.
+
+"Winifred!"
+
+Will did not know the voice; the tone turned him blind and dizzy.
+
+Winifred started violently, and turned; she clasped her hands tightly,
+and lifted them to her breast in a frightened way, as she fell back a
+step.
+
+"Oh, my God!" she cried, under her breath. There was a rattle of the
+gate-latch, a sharp flying open of the gate, and the stranger held her
+in his arms.
+
+"My darling, my darling!" he said, with an infinite tenderness. "Did
+you think you could hide anywhere in all this wide world where I
+should not find you?"
+
+For just an instant she yielded to his clasp--then she drew back. "You
+must not," she said, softly, with unmistakable pain in her voice. "You
+know that. I thought if I was utterly out of sight or hearing, you
+would forget me, and _I_ might--forget myself."
+
+He broke in before she had fairly spoken. "You were mistaken,
+Winifred; there was no one between us. O my foolish little hot-head!
+if you had not been so headlong in your self-sacrifice--if you had
+only waited till I came back--I could have showed you in ten minutes
+that there was no place for it. Mollie is married to John Gates and is
+very happy. And you and I--my little girl, how nearly our two lives
+have been spoiled! Sweetheart," he said, laughing with a shaky voice,
+"I think I shall never dare let go of you again"--and he drew her back
+to him.
+
+She hesitated--surrendered--clung to him with a long sobbing breath.
+"Oh, I have wanted you so, I have _wanted_ you so!" she cried. "Oh,
+don't be a dream and melt away this time!"
+
+Will Strong, standing close in the darkness of the oleander, acquiring
+a life-long association with smell of Madeira vine and oleander and
+wet earth, cry of crickets and noise of sprinkling water, gathered
+himself together enough to creep away. He was _going_ to realize it
+pretty soon, he thought; he did not yet; it seemed likely to be beyond
+endurance when he did. As he passed the door some one opened it, and
+the lamp-light streamed about him; Winifred looked around and saw his
+face for an instant, and then he had slipped away through a side gate.
+
+He walked out from town across miles of dark plain, until he came to
+the empty channel of the stream by which they had sat in March.
+Underfoot not a blade of grass or green thing; no stranger would have
+believed that living thing had ever grown there. The flocks and herds
+had long since gone to the mountain pastures. The dry channel between
+shelvy banks of gravel showed white in the unclouded yet dull
+starlight. The air was lifeless, and faintly tainted with smoke from
+forest fires in the mountains.
+
+Will threw himself down on his face, clutching with his fingers at the
+gritty dirt. He knew as surely then, looking forward to his life, as
+he will know at the end looking back, that this would never be an
+out-lived romance. Nor could he creep back into that temple of dreams
+from which Winifred's own hand had lured him--it had crumbled to dust
+behind him. Nor was he like one who, losing a woman, loses only his
+best pleasure and best ambition; she was the vital condition to every
+pleasure, every ambition; losing her, he lost all. The realization
+clutched him by this time like a tiger. There was not a living
+creature within miles; a man might go down to primal depths, might
+drop even the restraint of the human in outcries and struggles as free
+as a tortured beast's. It may be that solitude sees more such scenes
+than a decently decorous world would like to think.
+
+Yet there was a sense upon him of some moral demand, some decision to
+be made; and in time he began to try to collect himself for it. It
+would seem as if there could hardly be a position that left less for
+him to decide. There was no question of renouncing--he had never had
+anything to renounce. Nevertheless, his instinct was correct in urging
+him to a moral conflict and a momentous decision. The question was
+simply whether he could pick up his life again, could find faith that
+anything was worth living for; or whether life was to be a hollow
+going through the forms--frustrated, purposeless, full of brooding
+regret and jealousy, shame, and sense of wrong. But he could not drag
+his bruised mind up to the question; he could not even think what it
+was. He lifted himself up, stepped down into the dry channel, and
+knelt on the white stones, obeying old association with the attitude;
+laid his arms and head on a shelf of the bank, and let the stunned and
+nerveless will lie passive, while the accumulated forces of years--of
+generations--passion and pain and despair and love, shame and
+bitterness and loyalty--trampled back and forth over him, fighting out
+for him his battle.
+
+It was deathly, aggressively still; not an insect to chirp, not a tree
+to rustle; only bare earth and sodden air. After a long time Will
+raised his head and threw it back, looking up at the dull stars, while
+his outstretched hands lay clasped before him; he began to breathe
+more deeply. Not many minutes later he rose and walked homeward across
+the dim, wide waste.
+
+It was afternoon of the next day when he stood at Mrs. Stutt's door
+again. Mrs. Stutt looked at him with the embarrassment of conscious
+pity as she admitted him. People had been looking at him all day, on
+the street and in the office, with the same embarrassment and pity.
+Miss Northrop was packing, the good woman said; and, in an answer to
+her call, Winifred came out from her room into the little
+sitting-room. She, too, was evidently under agitation and
+embarrassment. Will had no doubt, from his first sight of her face,
+that she had seen and understood his haggard flight the evening
+before. He was himself entirely calm, as he held out his hand with a
+grave smile in silence.
+
+Winifred tried to speak naturally.
+
+"I had just sent a note to you, Will," she said, as they sat down.
+
+"About the school, I suppose," he answered, quietly. "You are going
+away at once?"
+
+"Yes." There she stopped, with her eyes downcast. She looked up to his
+face and caught her breath to speak, stopped, and began again.
+
+"You have been very good to me all this year--" there she hesitated.
+Her difficulty was to choose her words so as to ignore his secret, and
+yet not part from him in a cold or inadequate way.
+
+He rose, and crossed over to her.
+
+"Winifred," he said gently, "you are distressed on my account; and so
+it is better that I should speak of what otherwise it would be better
+to ignore. I want you to know that you have not harmed me."
+
+She rose quickly at that, and they stood near together, with their
+eyes fixed on each other's; the fulness of expression in her face
+seemed to take the place of answer. He went on steadily, speaking low:
+
+"I have thought it all over, and I find these two things stronger than
+any pain that may have come to me. Winifred, I cannot do you this
+wrong, to make you the instrument of evil to me. That is one of the
+two things. And the other is that there is nothing to reproach any one
+with; no one has done wrong; there is no cause for shame, or
+resentment, or bitterness--only for clean pain. Pain is no great evil,
+Winifred, when it is clean, no matter how sharp."
+
+He smiled at her tranquilly enough as he spoke. In truth, he was not
+unhappy at the moment. It is not during but after the parting
+interview that the pinch comes. She answered him only with her deeply
+attentive look, and he went on:
+
+"I did not come to those convictions; they came to me; or rather, they
+were in me, and bore down all the other feelings. All the noisy
+passions dropped away before them, and left just those clear voices in
+my soul. They made all my love and loyalty work together, instead of
+tearing me in opposite directions. For, see, Winifred, hasn't it been
+our moral faith for years that to do spiritual harm to another is the
+greatest evil that can befall one, and to do him spiritual benefit,
+the greatest good? All these years since we were in school together,
+I have been proud to think that it could be only a good to you to have
+me think of you as I have thought, because it was only a good to me.
+And I will not be so disloyal now as to let my life be spoiled because
+of you."
+
+Winifred looked at him aghast. "All these years!" It was a revelation
+intolerable at first shock to a woman that was no coquette.
+
+"I think it was all the time dimly in my mind what _your_ last year
+had been; at last I went out of my life and into yours. I want you to
+understand that I do not think of it with bitterness, because I
+entered so little into it; I realize, Winifred"--his voice broke from
+its steadiness--"that you have been good, _good_ in it all. If you had
+not been--if you had trifled with me--I think I should be at the
+bottom of the river to-day. But since no one has wronged me," he went
+on more quietly, "since nothing monstrous or unnatural has befallen
+me, everything I believed in has the same claim on me as ever.
+
+"And I want you to know that you need not _mind_ my love, Winifred."
+She dropped her eyes and stood mute. "It is something you may be
+willing and glad to have without troubling yourself because you cannot
+return it. For any pain that has happened, do not trouble yourself
+about that either--if I don't mind it, you needn't," he said, smiling
+a little, with a certain manly sweetness quite new to him. "I find one
+gains something in having no longer to struggle with pain and try to
+keep her at arm's length."
+
+She looked up then, and cried out passionately. "O Will, Will, if only
+there was anything in all this world I could do to make it up to you!"
+
+"There is nothing to make up," he said. "I would rather have pain from
+you than pleasure from any one else. But there _is_ something that you
+can do; this: not to feel my love a burden laid upon you, an annoyance
+or trespass, an anxiety or self-reproach--or anything that will make
+you want to get rid of it," he finished, smiling again; "and to let me
+give you all I wish, on the condition that I ask no return. And if, in
+a few years, I should ask to come and live near you, and be good
+friends--may I? It would be hard," he urged, less quietly, "that I
+should have to lose your friendship, when I ask nothing more. Would
+you take away the crumbs from me, just because I have lost the loaf?"
+
+"Is that best, Will?" she began, anxious and hesitating. "Oh, I mean
+for you. It isn't _possible_ that you can always--think of me--so.
+There is no reason. If you do not see me--somebody else--"
+
+"Have I been seeing you these dozen years?" he said, very gently. "You
+may trust me to know what is best for me. Why think--think a moment,
+dear friend, and you will understand. You, of all people, _can_
+understand the plane I want you to take me on."
+
+Winifred's eyes kindled and her face flushed. "I see. I _do_
+understand. I can meet you on your own plane, and I can trust your
+friendship and you. I am not afraid to have you come--after a year or
+two."
+
+"Thank you," he said, shaken as he had not been.
+
+"It is because you are very noble that any good can come out of this
+harm," she went on, with an eloquent tremor in her voice. "I can see
+that before very long I shall be, as you said, willing--glad--for so
+great a gift--only always sorry for your sake. I am very grateful
+_now_--I cannot tell you how great a thing I think it is--from such a
+man as you."
+
+They had both become embarrassed and shy now, and both stood silent to
+recover their ease. "You leave by this evening's train?" he asked in a
+minute.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then this is good-by."
+
+"For a while."
+
+They moved together to the door. As they reached it, Will turned and
+held out his hand, with an attempt at a smile. They stood a few
+moments with hands clasped. Winifred's downcast eyes were filling.
+
+"Good-by, Winifred," he said.
+
+"Good-by," she answered, faintly. A minute later she had thrown
+herself sobbing on her bed, and he was walking down the street.
+
+He met Winifred's lover, coming from the ticket-office--a gentleman
+high-bred and handsome in every line, a scholar by his appearance, a
+good man by his eyes, a good companion by his smile. There were all
+those differences between him and Will that the young man had talked
+of and Winifred in all sincerity had called nothing; and, moreover,
+she would never in the world have loved him if there had not been. The
+girl was an aristocrat after all, when it came to a question not of
+friendship but love. And Will knew it; love is penetrating enough to
+divine that much from scanty data. He looked at the stranger with a
+sort of transferred reverence--what a king of men must he be whom
+Winifred could crown! And if he did not look at him without a blinding
+pang, it was, nevertheless, a test of the thoroughness of the night's
+work that there was neither bitterness nor aversion in it. Something,
+that sense of having disarmed pain--not dodged nor outwitted it, but
+disarmed it forever--must have been in Winkelried's consciousness as
+the spears pressed in.
+
+But, after all, it is _taking_ the second place that costs--not being
+there after it has been once sincerely and thoroughly accepted. Bunyan
+knew long ago that it was easy walking in the Valley of Humiliation,
+once you had come safely down.
+
+On the street an acquaintance met Strong and turned to walk beside
+him. It was the man who would not trust Judge Garvey out of sight with
+his baby's silver mug.
+
+"I was just going to your office," he said. "It's something very
+important." He spoke with a marked friendliness, and a transparently
+covert sympathy. "You see," he went on, confidentially, "we fellows
+that have been against Garvey begin to think our minority's about
+over. The whole affair of Miss Northrop has hurt him. He was shabby
+when first she came, about that Coakley business, and he's been ugly
+about her ever since in a sneaking sort of way. Such a lady, too! And
+there's a thing come out to-day--if you'll excuse my speaking of it."
+He showed a certain embarrassment. "Uncle Billy Green gave it away
+first--he knew, being postmaster--but Garvey's been boasting of it
+himself, too, in the bar-room. You know you used to write to a fellow
+in the States, and haven't written to him so much lately."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Strong. The man caught a hint of what he did not
+say in what he did.
+
+"Uncle Billy gives away any interesting point he gets in the
+post-office," he said, apologetically. "You knew that before, Strong.
+Well, Garvey got out of him, too, that Miss Northrop didn't have nor
+write any letters; and he got it into his head she was hiding. Anybody
+could see she wasn't used to working for a living--"
+
+"Look here--"
+
+"Bless you, Strong, I sha'n't say a word disrespectful to her. This is
+something you'd ought to know. He just did up a 'Clarion' with some
+notice about the school in it, and her name marked, and sent it to
+that fellow you used to write to; and he wrote on the margin: 'Please
+forward to Miss N.'s friends.' He said in the bar-room, to-day, that
+he didn't know just what would come of it, but it stood to reason if
+she was on the hide, it would damage her or you, somehow."
+
+"It hasn't, however," said Strong. "But if _I_ stayed round the
+bar-room--"
+
+"Oh, we choked him off. I tell you, Strong, everybody thinks it was a
+pretty dirty trick. The people don't care so much about his big
+tricks, but they won't stand any such small ones. No money in it,
+either--only spite! Well, the long and the short is--it's only a few
+weeks till convention; and if you'll take hold now while they're mad,
+you can name your own man for Senate, and we'll send you to Assembly."
+
+"I don't want to go to Assembly," said Will, standing on his
+office-step. "I'll gladly do my best to defeat Garvey for Senate."
+
+"Well, you just decide on your man, and bring him out in your next
+paper and we'll elect him. The people are strong for you just now. And
+I should think you would look on going to Assembly as a sort of
+duty--purify politics, you know."
+
+"Well--I'll think about it." And young Strong walked into his shabby
+office, stopped to give Jim directions, then went in behind his
+screen, and sat down to write a proper editorial for beginning the
+reform campaign.
+
+
+
+
+HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP.
+
+AN OLD SAILOR'S YARN.
+
+BY CAPTAIN ROLAND T. COFFIN.
+
+_The World, N. Y., November, 1878._
+
+
+"Well, sir," said the old sailor, "here we are ag'in. I ain't been
+round here much lately, and atwixt you and me, she's put the 'kybosh'
+onto it, holdin' that comin' round here and hystin' are promotin' of
+rheumatics, which, as are well known, they come of long and various
+exposures in all climates, to say nothin' of watchin' onto a damp dock
+night arter night continual. But what's the use? Everybody knows as a
+quiet home are better than silver and fine gold, which it stands to
+reason are to be obtained in two ways. Wimmin are like sailors in some
+respects; whoever has anythin' to do with 'em must either be saddled
+and bridled, leastwise, or else booted and spurred. You've got to ride
+'em, or else they'll ride you. Bein' a sailorman myself, it ain't
+likely as I'd say anythin' ag'in 'em; but if the truth must be told,
+I'll say this--that while it'll never do, not at no price, for to let
+sailors git the upper hand, there's many a man as has giv' the helm
+into the hands of his old woman and made a better v'yage thereby; and
+I don't mind sayin', sir, that havin' while follerin' the water got
+into the habit of allowin' her for to be skipper in the house durin'
+my short stoppin's on shore, it got for to be so much the custom, that
+since comin' home for a full due I ain't never tried for to break away
+from it; and though human natur' is falliable, and she does make
+mistakes, especially about the hystin', on the whole, and by and
+large, I judges I've been a gainer by it, as I believes at least eight
+men out of ten would be if they took the hint accordin' and went and
+done likewise.
+
+"I don't go for to say as she ever goes to go to say I ain't a-goin'
+for to let you go there; but it are terrible aggrivokin' when the
+rheumatics twinges awful, and as it might be that this saw-mill don't
+want no more splinters laid onto it, to have her feelin'ly remark,
+'Well, if you will go round a-guzzlin' ale with your swell friends and
+a-leavin' your lawful wife to home alone you must expect to pay for
+it,' whereas I know it are the dock and other causes long gone by; but
+that knowledge don't ease the pain a morsel, and the last time I were
+that way tantalized I swore I wouldn't come here no more. But whatever
+are the use? Man resolves and reresolves and then takes another
+snifter, and so here I are, and bein' as its cold, as so she sha'n't
+have no basis for her unfeelin' remark about guzzlin' ale, we'll let
+him make it hot rum, and arter the old receipt, neither economizin' in
+the rum or the sugar, but givin' a fair drink for honest money.
+
+"Well, well (just mix another afore the glass cools off), to think how
+the time goes. Here it are autumn ag'in, and in a few weeks 'twill be
+winter. It reminds me (I'll take one more, if you please, with one
+lump less of sugar and the space in rum) that I'm gittin' old, and I
+feels it. My eyes ain't so good and my legs ain't so good, and I ain't
+so good all over. When I goes down to the dock my lantern are heavier
+than it used to were, and the distance ain't so short as it used to
+seem from the dock to the house. Afore many years I'll be put quietly
+away, and though I'd prefer bein' beautifully sewed up and launched
+shipshape in blue water, with a hundred pound weight for to keep me
+down, I s'poses it won't make much difference, nohow. Anyhow, if I
+lives as long as old Wiggins, I hopes I may go as well at the end. I
+don't think I ever told you about him, and if you'll let him fill 'em
+up ag'in--for it's one of the vartues of hot rum that the more you
+drinks the thirstier you gits--I'll reel you the yarn right off.
+
+"Old Wiggins had been all his life into the Liverpool trade and had
+got well fixed, so far as cash were consarned; and so when he came for
+to be seventy or seventy-two years old he were persuaded for to knock
+off for a full due and spend the balance of his life ashore. Goin' up
+to some place in Connecticut, he buys hisself a place there and
+settles down. Well, for a time he were all right, a-fixin' up his
+house, a-buildin' new barns and hen-coops and fences and the like, and
+I've heerd tell that the house where he kep' his pigs were better than
+any dwellin'-house in that region, and the whole place were the wonder
+of the country roundabout; but arter he had fixed his house all up
+like a ship, with little staterooms all through the upper part of it,
+and had got everythin' inside and out in shipshape order, and there
+weren't nothin' else he could think of for to do, he gits terribly
+homesick and discontented, and times when he'd come to the city for to
+collect his sheer of the profits of ships as he had a interest in,
+he'd sit for hours on the wharf a-watchin' the vessels on the river,
+and it were like drawin' teeth for to git him to leave and go up to
+his home. His eyes had giv' out sometime afore he quit the sea, and
+his legs was shaky, so as he had to walk with a settin' pole, and his
+hand were tremblin' and unsteady; but aloft he were still all right,
+and his head were as clear as a bell.
+
+"Arter bein' ashore a matter of seven year, he comes to town one day
+to see a ship off what he had been in afore he quit, and in which he
+had a half interest. The skipper of that ship, which her name were the
+Vesuvius, he bein' called Perkins, in comin' from the Custom House
+arter clearin', got athwart-hawse of a dray and were knocked down, the
+wheels passin' over his legs and breakin' of 'em, and whatever do old
+Wiggins do--the home-sickness bein' strong onto him--but says to the
+agents, 'It are a pity for to lose a day's fair wind; I'll go aboard
+and take her out myself;' and, sure enough, he done it, never lettin'
+on to the folks at home, but leavin' the agents to tell 'em arter he
+were gone.
+
+"Into that ship I were shipped, she bein' 830 tons or thereabout, with
+three royal yards across, and loaded with flour and grain, there bein'
+sixteen of us afore the mast, with two mates, carpenter and cook, and
+steward, leavin' on the 16th of November, and, unless I'm mistakened,
+in the year 1843.
+
+"We towed down to the Hook and out over the bar, and then put the
+muslin on to her with a fine breeze from sou'west, and I supposes
+there weren't a happier man in the world than old Wiggins when he
+discharged the pilot and steamer and took charge.
+
+"'I've giv' 'em the slip,' says he to the mate. 'I've giv' 'em the
+slip; they thought I were too old for to go to sea, but I'll show 'em
+thar's plenty of life into me yet; git out all the starboard stunsails
+and see to it that she's kep' a-movin' night and day, for in sixteen
+days I expects to walk the pierhead in Liverpool.' Well, sure enough,
+a-movin' she were kep', and I never seen harder carryin's on than I
+seen that passage; but we never lost a stitch of canvas, 'cause the
+old man not only knowed how to carry it, but he knowed how to take it
+off of her when it be to come off, and in a gale of wind he'd 'liven
+up wonderful, whereas in light weather he'd show his age. It were
+funny for to see him takin' the sun and tryin' to read her off, which
+he weren't able for to do, not by no means.
+
+"'What d'ye stand on?' he'd say to the mate arter screwin' his eye to
+the glass and tryin' to make it out; and when the mate would tell him,
+he'd say, 'I believe that agrees with me; just take a squint at my
+instrument; my eyesight ain't just as good as it used for to be, and I
+don't quite make it out.' Then the mate would read him off his
+instrument, and arter he'd made it eight bells he'd go down and work
+it up and prick her off. The fourteenth day out we made the light on
+Fastnet Rock, off Cape Clear, and went bowlin' along the coast,
+passin' Tuskar next day, and swingin' her off up channel and round
+Hollyhead past the Skerries and takin' a pilot off P'int Lynas. It
+were a sight worth seein' for to watch the old man handle her in
+takin' a pilot. The wind were fresh from west-nor'west, and we passed
+the Skerries with all three royals set and lower topmast and
+to'gallan' stunsails on the port side. As soon as ever we passed the
+rocks we kep' off for Lynas, and as soon as the stunsails got by the
+lee they was hauled in. Then with the wind about two p'ints on the
+starboard quarter we went bilin' along for the boat which we seen
+standin' off shore just to the east'ard of the P'int. There were a
+pretty bubble of a sea on, and afore we gits to him he goes about
+standin' in to the bay and givin' sheet. We follers along arter him,
+goin' two feet to his one, still carryin' all three royals, with hands
+at halliards and clewlines. Just afore we gits to him the old man
+sings out, 'Clew up the royals, haul down the flyin' jib, haul up the
+crochick and mainsail.' By this time we was well under the land and in
+smooth water. Keepin' his eye onto the pilot-boat, which were a couple
+of p'ints onto our weather bow, the old man no sooner seen her come to
+than he sings out, 'Hard up the helm!' And as we swung off afore the
+wind we runned up the foresail and laid the head-yards square; then
+mannin' the port main braces we let the to'gallan' yards run down on
+the caps and let her come to ag'in, and so nicely had the old man
+calculated the distance that as she come to the wind she shot up
+alongside of the pilot-boat, stoppin' just abreast of her and not over
+twenty foot away.
+
+"'That was well done, Mr. Mate,' said the pilot, as he come over the
+side; 'some of these galoots makes us chase 'em half a day afore we
+can board 'em. Fill away the head-yards, put your helm up, run up the
+flyin' jib, brail up the spanker check in the arter yards,' and as she
+swung off he comes aft to the wheel where I was a-steerin', and says,
+'Keep her east-sou'east, my man; giv' us a chew of terbacker.' We
+soon had the muslin piled onto her ag'in, and sure enough, as old
+Wiggins had said, the sixteenth day out he walked the pierhead in
+Liverpool.
+
+"I understood as old Wiggins was made a good deal on in Liverpool as
+bein' the oldest skipper that had ever come there, and the Board of
+Trade and what not giv' him dinners, and so on--which, considerin' his
+age, he oughtn't to have took--and by other skippers at the hotel he
+were much honored, bein' giv' the head of the table and treated with
+great deference--and all this dinin' and winin' and feastin' weren't
+no good to him--and, arter a stay of three weeks, when we ag'in went
+down the river with full complement of passengers and a good freight,
+he weren't not by no means as well as when we went in. We had, too, a
+tough time down channel, a stiff sou'wester, with rain and thick
+weather, and it told onto the old man, so that when arter bein' out a
+week we at last got clear of Tuskar and had the ocean open, the relief
+from the strain fetched him, and he were took down sick.
+
+"Whether it were to punish him for comin' to sea at his time of life
+or not I don't know; but from this on we did have the devil's own
+weather. Gale after gale from the west'ard, shiftin' constant from
+sou'west to nor'west, and tryin' constant to see from which quarter it
+could blow the hardest.
+
+"The mate were a plucky and a able young feller, by the name of
+Graham, and he kep' her a-dancin' as well as the old man would have
+done. Constant she had everythin' put to her that she'd bear, and
+always were she kep' on the tack where she'd make the most westin',
+and so she struggled along till we was as far as thirty degrees west,
+we bein' thirty days out and not yet half way. Every day we asked the
+steward how old Wiggins were a-gittin' on, and every day he'd shake
+his head and say 'no better;' and it come to be understood, fore and
+aft, that it were as much as a toss-up if the old man ever smelled
+grass ag'in. We had a little let-up arter gittin' into the thirties,
+and for a day or so had fine weather and a chance to dry our dunnage.
+Fine days, however, is scarce in January on that herrin' pond--I'll
+take just another; mentionin' herrin's makes me dry--and when you gits
+'em they are most always weather-breeders. I went up on to the main
+royal yard when our side come up at 8 o'clock one mornin' for to sew
+on the leather on the parral, and it were like a day in May. Afore I
+got the leather sewed on I be to look out for myself, 'cause they was
+goin' to clew up the sail, and from that time on it breezed on from
+the sou'ard, keepin' us constantly takin' the sail off of her, till at
+four bells we was under double-reefed topsails and reefed courses,
+with jib, crochick, and spanker stowed. We hammered away under this,
+carryin' on very heavy, 'cause she were headin' west-nor'west, which
+were a good course, till eight bells in the arternoon watch, when the
+sea gittin' up so tremendiously we had to furl the reefed mainsail
+and mizzen topsail and close reef the fore and main topsails.
+
+"You'd think that were snug enough for any ship, now, wouldn't you?
+and sartin it are; no ship ever ought to have less canvas than this,
+till it blows away, 'cause she's safer with it onto her than with it
+off, the reefed foresail supportin' the yard. Well, we'd had gales and
+gales, but this here gale beat anythin' that I'd ever seen, and at
+seven bells in the first night watch, with a tremendious surge, the
+weather leech rope of the foresail giv' way, and in a jiffy away went
+the foreyard in the slings--the foresail and fore-topsail goin' into
+ribbons. All hands, of course, was busy for'ard, tryin' for to git
+some of this wreck stuff tranquillized, when all of a suddint from the
+poop come the old man's voice, full and round and clear, and not
+shrill and pipin' as we'd heerd it last, and above all the roarin' of
+the gale and the din of the slattin' canvas, we heerd him shout:
+'Stations for wearin' ship. We must git her head round to the
+sou'ard,' he bawled in the ear of the mate, as Mr. Graham struggled
+aft; 'the shift will come in less than half a hour, and its goin' to
+be tremendious; if it catches us aback it won't leave a stick into
+her; but it ain't a-goin' to catch us, sir; I've brung her through
+many and many a time like this. I'll bring her through this one, and
+then you must do the rest. Now, then,' says he, 'stand by, put your
+helm just a few spokes a-weather, don't check her at all with the
+rudder, slack a foot or two of the lee braces and check in to
+wind'ard; keep your eye constant on that sail, Mr. Clark'--that
+were the second mate--'and don't let it shake; keep it good full and
+give her away; lay the crochick yard square, and come up to the
+main-braces, all of you.' And so, gently, as if she'd been a sick
+child, he coaxed her to go off, and she begin to gather way. As soon
+as she done so the helm were put hard up, and the main-yard rounded
+in, just keepin' the topsail alift, but not permittin' it to shake. As
+she went off till she got the sea on the quarter, a mighty wave came
+a-rollin' along, boardin' us about the main riggin', floodin' the
+decks and dashin' out the starboard bulwarks. The minnit we got the
+wind onto the starboard quarter we braced the main-yard sharp up with
+the port-braces and bowsed the weather ones as taut as a harp string.
+'Now, then,' says the old man, 'never mind that trash for'ard, let
+that go; git a jumper on to the main-yard and a preventer main-topsail
+brace aloft; lay aloft for your lives, and clap preventer gaskets on
+everythin' that's furled; we'll have it soon from the north'ard fit to
+take the masts out of her.' He were right. In a short time there were
+a instant's lull, and then with a roar that were almost deafenin' came
+the cyclone from the north. Thanks to the old man's sagacity and
+experience, howsever, we was a-headin' sou'-southeast when it hit us,
+and it struck us right aft.
+
+"'Steady as you go,' shouts the old man, and then, a minnit arter, as
+she gathered way, he says ag'in to the mate, 'We must let her come to,
+Mr. Graham, we can't run her in the teeth of the old s'utherly sea;
+ease down the helm and let her smell of it.' It was a powerful whiff
+she took, for as she come to and felt the force of the wind, all three
+to'gallan' masts went short off at the cap, the main-topsail sheets
+parted, and in an instant there wasn't a piece of the sail left big
+enough for a lady's handkerchief.
+
+"'That's all it can do,' said the old man to the mate, bitterly; 'git
+this trash on deck as soon as possible, and git her a-waggin' once
+more; I've brung her through it safe, and am goin' home,' and with
+that he dropped onto the poop as dead as mutton. He had come on deck
+bare-headed and with nothin' on but his drawers and shirt, just as he
+had laid in his bunk for a fortnight, and the exposure had carried him
+off. However, he knowed that the shift were so near nobody ever could
+tell. There were no doubt, however, but that his gittin' her weared
+round were our salvation. If that gust had a-struck us aback our masts
+would have gone sartin, and it's a toss-up but what we'd a-gone down
+starn fust afore she'd a-backed round. Next day we giv' old Wiggins a
+funeral fit for the Emperor of Rooshy, and he well desarved it. I
+don't know as ever I seen a prettier sew-up than we done on him,
+wrappin' him first in the American ensign and then kiverin' him with
+brand-new No. 4 canvas. Considerin' the sails we'd lost and how much
+we needed the canvas, I think he must have been satisfied that we done
+the handsome thing by him. The day was beautiful and clear, although
+the wind still blowed a gale. We hadn't been able to do much with the
+wreck stuff, except git lashin's onto it for to keep it from swingin'
+about, and we hadn't dared for to try for to send up another
+main-topsail. We had set the reefed mainsail for to steady her, and
+that were all. The three to'gallan' masts was still a-hangin' over the
+side, and the ribbons of the foresail and fore-topsail was still
+a-flutterin' in the breeze, when at eight bells, at midday, all hands
+was called for to bury the dead. Everythin' that we had in the way of
+nice clothes we had put on for to do honor to our captain, and most of
+us was able to sport white shirts and broadcloth. We laid the old man
+onto a plank and kivered him with the union jack, and all hands
+gathered round him, while Mr. Graham read the sarvice. Everythin' went
+lovely, and just at the proper time we tilted the plank, and he
+slipped off without a hitch of any kind. Arter the mate finished the
+readin', he said, 'Men, there's a good man gone arter a long life of
+great usefulness. He were a sailor and a gentleman. I don't think as
+we ought for to cry over sich a man, and I propose we giv' him three
+cheers and God bless him'; and heartier cheers was never giv' than we
+giv' that day, arter which all hands got dinner."
+
+
+
+
+"----MAS HAS COME."
+
+BY LEONARD KIP.
+
+_Overland Monthly, January, 1870._
+
+
+It was called Beacon Ledge fully fifty years before the present
+lighthouse had been built upon it. For it was said that long ago, when
+wrecking was a profitable trade along the coast, and goodly vessels
+were frequently, by false lights, decoyed to their destruction, there
+was no more favorable point for the exercise of that systematic
+villainy than this rocky, high-lifted bluff. Projecting three or four
+hundred feet into the sea, with a gradually curved, sweeping line, it
+formed, to be sure, upon the one side, a limited anchorage--safe
+enough for those who knew it; but, upon the other side, it looked upon
+a waste of shoal, dotted, here and there, at lowest tide, with craggy
+breakers, and, at high water, smooth, smiling, and deceitful, with the
+covered dangers. Here, then, upon certain dark and stormy nights, the
+flaming beacon of destruction would glow brightly against the black
+sky, and wildly lighten up the cruel faces of those who stood by and
+piled on the fagots, while gazing eagerly out to sea to mark the
+effect of their evil machinations. Nor was it until some thirty years
+ago that the gangs of wretches were thoroughly broken up, and this,
+their favorite vantage-ground, wrested from them, and the tall, white
+lighthouse there securely founded--maintaining in mercy what had
+before been held as a blighting curse; lifting itself, like a nation's
+warning finger, and with its calm, serene glow, pointing out the path
+of safety. Then, in the mouths of all the surrounding inhabitants,
+Beacon Ledge became known as Beacon Ledge Beacon, and so kept its
+name, in spite of tautological criticism, or of different and more
+formal christening, by Government authority.
+
+Still, there hung around the place the memories or traditions of past
+violence, shipwreck, and murder--partly true, perhaps, but, doubtless,
+generally false, having only a few grains of fact or probability
+mingled with all kinds of distorted fictions--the deeds of pirates
+being supplemented to those of mere wreckers; the imaginations of
+fishermen along the coast ever inventing plenteous horrors, and wild
+tales of buccaneering rovers, originally written for other localities,
+being now wilfully adopted and here located, until, at last, there was
+hardly a known crime which could not find its origin or counterpart at
+Beacon Ledge, and the whole neighboring shore became a melancholy
+storehouse of terrors, disaster, and distress. These tales being
+discovered to be very pleasing to most strangers, were carefully
+cultivated and enlarged upon by each interested denizen of the place;
+and to me, also, for awhile, they had a peculiar charm. I seldom
+grew tired of hearing some grizzled, tar-incrusted fisherman reel
+off his tissue of improbable abominations. For awhile, I say, since
+there came, at last, a day when I cared no longer for such bloody
+traditions, forgot the shadowy horrors that flitted about the spot,
+and only thought and cared for it as the place where I had met and
+loved dear little Jessie Barkstead.
+
+She was the only child of the lighthouse keeper. In a worldly point of
+view, therefore, was it wisely done that I should have set my
+affections upon her? Possibly not; and it is likely that, had I known
+the weakness of my mind, I would have shunned the danger from the very
+first. But I was gay and reckless in my poor self-complacency and
+deceitful assurance of inner strength; and long before I had fairly
+realized how rapidly I was drifting, I found myself whirling down the
+swift current, and was lost. Nor was it a marvel that this should have
+so happened. To one who sits aloof in his unromantic, distant home, it
+is an easy thing, indeed, to moralize about matters of inferior
+station and _mésalliance_; but I believe that few could have seen
+little Jessie, as she first appeared to me, and not have felt some
+secret inclination to give way before those subtile charms of beauty
+and manner which invested her. Moreover, let it here be mentioned
+that she was not at all of humble birth or education. Old Barkstead
+was himself a gentleman by culture and station, and had once been the
+master of a gallant ship. In that important position he had been for
+many years a pleasant and popular officer; but at length, in an evil
+day, through some temporary weakness or neglect, he had lost his
+charge, and almost ruined his employers. The world--with what degree
+of truth cannot now be told--had charged the loss upon intoxication. A
+storm of obloquy and reproach arose. The man, bowed down with
+self-abasement and sensitiveness, had yielded to the blast, and
+attempted no defence; and, after awhile, obtaining, through some
+friendly influence, the custody of the Beacon Light, he had fled, with
+his child, to that obscurity, leaving no trace behind him, and caring
+only to pass the rest of his life in the quiet of the world's
+forgetfulness.
+
+I was myself the occasional tenant of a lighthouse, for, during a few
+weeks of the summer, I had been visiting the Penguin Light, some four
+or five miles distant up the coast. It was a tall and far-reaching
+structure, standing upon a jutting point of rock--almost the duplicate
+of the Beacon Ledge; the two lights glimmering at each other across
+the little bay between, and only to be distinguished apart at night by
+the different periods of their revolutions. Penguin Light was in the
+keeping of old Barry Somers, a long-known and valued sailor-friend of
+mine, who, in past days, had taught me to swim, and sail a boat, and
+now seemed to regard his office more for the opportunity it gave of
+entertaining me than for its actual salaried value. Thither,
+therefore, I would often repair during the summer months, avoiding the
+usual crowded haunts, and giving preference to old Barry's pleasant
+talk and my solitary rambles along the shore; occasionally running out
+to sea, that I might speak friendly pilots cruising in the distance;
+and now and then, by way of change and innocent attempt at usefulness,
+taking my turn at keeping up and watching over the safety of the
+lantern-lamps.
+
+It was during one of my lonely wanderings along the beach, when, with
+gun in hand, I made feeble and unsuccessful attempts against the lives
+of the merry little sand-pipers, that I first saw Jessie. She sat upon
+a rock, and was gazing out at sea. In her hand was a book, which she
+was not reading--who, indeed, could read collectedly, with that fresh
+breeze lifting such a pleasant array of dancing white-caps, and
+rolling inward those strong bodies of surf, which broke upon the shore
+with the ring of sportive Titans? Her handkerchief had fallen off her
+head, and her curls were flying wantonly in the breeze. I did not, for
+the moment, dream that she had any connection with the lighthouse,
+but rather that she was a chance city visitor at some inland
+country-house; and so I passed on, not venturing to speak with her.
+So, also, the next day, and the next--finding her always there when
+I passed, as though that particular hollow in the rock was her own
+especial, allotted refuge-place. At last, gaining courage from those
+frequent meetings, and, perhaps, from the half smile with which she
+began to greet my coming, I addressed her; and so the few words of
+salutation gradually lengthened into conversation, and, before we were
+well conscious of the fact, had ripened into terms of intimacy.
+
+How swiftly such matters sometimes proceed, when removed from the
+stiffness and ceremony of city life! A week only had passed, and I
+began to find that all my walks led in that one direction. Jessie was
+always at her place, with the uncompleted book in her hands; and I,
+going no farther, would seat myself beside her, throw down my useless
+gun, let the poor sand-pipers go undismayed, and so prepare for the
+comfortable, pleasant conversation of the morning. It was no
+unattractive pastime, indeed, to dispose the dry sea-weed for her
+seat; and then, placing my head upon another pile, remain half
+reclined at her feet, listening to her lively talk, and pretending to
+look out upon the blue waves, when, all the while, I was stealthily
+gazing into the deeper blue of her eyes. Nor, when I heard her
+story--or, so much of it as at first she deigned to tell me--did I
+hold her in less respect. The daughter of the lighthouse, indeed! Why,
+truly, this should matter nothing at all to me. What interest could I
+have in her past or present associations, or how could they, in any
+way, detract from her own native grace and loveliness? Were her eyes
+less bright, or was her conversation less cheery, or were her
+attitudes less picturesque and pleasing, because old Captain
+Barkstead, instead of still sailing a fleet merchantman, now mopingly
+cleaned his reflectors, and, when strangers came, hid himself in the
+lantern? Moreover, had she not brought with her from her former home,
+wherever that might be, a wit, and intellect, and intelligence which
+might adorn any position? What more could be needful in promotion of a
+quiet sea-side flirtation? In a week or ten days I should go away, and
+no longer see her. I should carry off with me the memories of a very
+pleasant face, that had always brightened up whenever I came near; and
+then, as, after awhile, new forms and scenes came between, I would, of
+course, forget her. For a time, she might possibly look out longingly
+after my return, and, finding that I did not come back, might--well,
+not exactly lose memory of me, I hoped. It was to be desired, perhaps,
+that a few thoughts of me would always tinge her future life, I argued
+with something of man's selfishness. I would not, indeed, that she
+should make herself miserable about me; but if, when her face had
+faded from my thoughts, some little record of myself should pleasantly
+remain with her, and now and then bring a transitory pang of musing
+regret, who should say nay?
+
+Therefore, in time, I went away. I did not steal off without farewell.
+That would have been but sorry recompense for the many cheery hours
+she had given me. But, taking her hand in mine, I gave to her my
+heartfelt thanks for all the pleasant past, and my cordial wishes for
+the future. I did not know that I should ever meet her again, I said.
+I hoped, however, that she would not too soon forget me. It was in my
+heart to utter more tender and sentimental words than I had any right
+to use, but I repressed the inclination. I cherished, too a secret
+hope that she would show some sorrow for my departure; but, if she
+felt any at all, she did not allow her expression, or her color, to
+betray her. With quiet self-possession, yet with a certain interest,
+too--as when one gives up a pleasant, valued friend--she bade me
+adieu; and so, lifting from her feet the ever-harmless gun, I passed
+away, round the border of the little bay, and returned to the city.
+
+There, however, somewhat to my surprise, I failed to forget her; and
+wherever I went, the image of that light, graceful form, seated upon
+the rock, began to obtrude itself upon my thoughts. Of course, it was
+only a fleeting impression, I reasoned with myself, and would soon
+disappear again, as newer scenes and faces forced themselves upon me;
+and I plunged rather more wildly than usual into society. But the
+proposed remedy did not have its due effect. In fact, it happened that
+the routine of gayety and formality seemed, by contrast, to aid the
+former impressions, making them seem more real and life-like than
+ever. It could not be that I was falling in love! But yet I could not
+fail to confess a strange interest; and, while knowing that I was in
+danger, was content to let myself drift whither the current might
+carry me.
+
+"I will see her once more. There was something I forgot to tell her
+when we parted last," I said to myself, trying in vain to establish
+and believe in a transparent self-deceit. "It was about a book, or
+something. It weighs upon my mind that she should deem me neglectful
+of her wishes. Once more, therefore, and then--"
+
+"Where away, so late in the autumn?" inquired a friend, who saw me
+starting out.
+
+"Down the bay, blue-fishing!" I exclaimed. "Just the real time for
+it."
+
+"Ah? Well, good-by, then! Rather too cold sport for me, though!"
+
+Therefore, I saw Jessie again--and yet again after that. Why should I
+not confess it?--or, after what I have already told, what is there
+left for me to confess, at all? For now, at last, I began to
+acknowledge to myself that it was not mere friendship or esteem I
+felt, but, rather, the more overpowering passion of real love. Gone,
+like a thin veil of vapor, were all my sophistries about a limited
+Platonic interest; my dread of incongruous association; my resolves
+against possible rashnesses; my fear of the world or its senseless
+gossip; my prudence, or my self-restraint! These all seemed to vanish
+in a day; and, yielding myself, slavishly, a willing captive to bright
+eyes and silvery tones, upon one fine morning I passed the Rubicon of
+safety, and offered her my hand and heart. But, to my sore dismay,
+she only softly shook her head.
+
+"You do not love me, then?" I murmured. I spoke not merely with sorrow
+and disappointment, but with something of wounded pride--feeling
+mortified that she had not at once accepted my devotion. Certainly, it
+had seemed to me, all along, that I was not disagreeable to her; and
+there was no doubt that in her manner, at least, she had always
+cordially welcomed my approach, and taken pleasure in my company.
+
+"I do not know--I hardly yet can tell!" she faintly said, drawing her
+hand from mine. "To me, you are my best and dearest friend; perhaps,
+the only one whom I can really call my friend. I know how glad I
+always feel when you come hither; how lonely I am while you stay away.
+But this I do not think is love--the real, true love which I should
+wish to feel."
+
+"But can it never be?" I pleaded.
+
+"How can I tell? It might come to that, at last; and yet--" She
+ceased, and there came over her face a strange, dead look at the sea
+before her--a straining gaze, as though she would fix her eyes far
+beyond, in another hemisphere, oblivious of the present.
+
+"Yet tell me, Jessie, have I a rival? This, at least, you might let me
+know. I will not go further, nor will I ask his name."
+
+For a moment she did not answer: still sitting, with that strange,
+rapt, straining gaze, and with an unconscious, mechanical motion,
+rolling the little sand pebbles down the side of the rock.
+
+"There was one," she said, at length. "I hardly know how to tell you
+about it. I believe that I cared for him, and yet I never told him so;
+nor did he ever tell me that he loved or cared for me, and yet, at the
+time, I thought that he did. It was some time ago--a very long time,
+it often seems to me; nor do I suppose that he and I will ever meet
+again. And now you know almost as much about it as I do myself," she
+continued, turning more fully toward me. "Or what more can I say?
+There was no pledge given on either side--no uttered words--and, of
+course, it has all gone by. But now and then, when I think about it, I
+feel regret; and it seems to me as though it were a different and
+stronger feeling than that which I have for you. Whether I am mistaken
+in my feelings, or how or what I really think, perhaps I cannot well
+tell; I am only a simple girl, after all, and know so very little
+about love, or what love truly is."
+
+"Yet, Jessie dear," I pleaded, "if you look upon that old matter as
+buried and gone--which, doubtless, it must be--why think longer about
+it, instead of turning to the new and truer affection which now I
+offer you? Believe me, you are letting your mind dwell merely upon a
+dream of the past--one of those vain fancies of girlhood, which,
+though for the time they may control the mind, have no real, vital
+activity or force."
+
+"It may be so," she said, in a sort of saddened, half-regretful tone.
+"Indeed, it must be so; and it might be that when the influence has
+passed away, I may find that I have cared for you better than I have
+imagined. I know that, even now, you seem dear to me as a friend, and
+that you are kind to me, making me always happy at your coming; yet,
+at the same time, I think that there is something wanting in it
+all--something which is not love. You see that I am very plain with
+you. Better, then, to leave me; is it not so? For I cannot now give
+you my heart; nor do I know whether, in the future, I can better do
+so; and it is not right that I should keep you at my side, hoping or
+expecting what, after all, may never come."
+
+"Nay, I will not leave you for all that, my Jessie," I said,
+impulsively. "I will still remain at your side, and trust even to the
+mere chance that, at some future period, you may relent."
+
+Therefore, dropping the subject for that time, I remained, and sought,
+by new kindnesses and attentions, to win some final increase of her
+favor toward me, but feeling, at the same time, a little sore and
+angry with myself. For, how wretchedly was I now maintaining that
+proper independence of spirit, which I had always insisted even the
+most blinded and devoted of lovers should feel! Had it not been my
+cherished theory that no man should surrender his freedom of heart
+without obtaining in return the utmost, unlimited, and unselfish
+devotion? Yet, here I was giving up my whole soul to a blind passion,
+rendered more and more absorbing, doubtless, by the opposition I
+experienced, and for response I found myself willing to be content
+with even the cinders of a former and only half-dead affection;
+trusting, as so many men have vainly trusted, that by earnest care and
+assiduity, I might, at last, re-illume the fading spark, and make its
+new brightness glow for me.
+
+So passed the autumn, during which I made frequent journeys between
+coast and city; striving, at times, with the cares of business to
+drive her image from my mind, and finding myself continually drawn
+back again to that quiet nook which, gifted with her presence, had
+become to me the brightest and only happy spot on earth. These
+frequent departures, so contrary to my usual habit, soon began to
+excite the inquiries and surmises of my friends. Fishing and shooting
+protracted into the season so far as almost to touch the edge of the
+winter, no longer served as satisfactory excuses for my absences; and
+there were some among my friends, who, in their speculations, came
+very near the truth, and hinted suspicions of some rustic passion. But
+still, turning off their insinuations with a laugh, I kept my
+secret--holding it the more carefully and earnestly, as I now began to
+see hope dawning for me in the future.
+
+For now, at last, it seemed as if I was about to prosper in my suit.
+Each time that I came, Jessie appeared yet more pleased to see
+me--more willing to give me that attractive confidence which can only
+exist in full perfection between acknowledged lovers; less disposed to
+analyze her mind's emotion with any critical severity, or speculate
+whether this or that feeling had, or had not, passed the line between
+friendship and love; more ready, at times, to surrender the struggle
+and self-examination, confess herself vanquished, and yield up her
+whole heart to my keeping. But not quite yet.
+
+"A little longer," she pleaded. "Let me feel somewhat more sure of
+myself before--"
+
+"And how much longer, then, Jessie?"
+
+"Till Christmas, George. When Christmas comes, I will either be all
+your own, or will send you away forever. Will not that do?"
+
+"It must, perforce, if I cannot gain better terms," I answered; and I
+returned once more to my city life. It was my fixed intention to
+remain there resolutely until the Christmas morning itself had come;
+but at last, unable to maintain the suspense, I stole back to the
+beach once more. It was now only two days from the time. The air was
+colder, of course, so that Jessie no longer took her place outside
+upon the rock; but we could sit and talk in the shelter of the
+lighthouse door, undisturbed by old Barkstead, who usually fretted and
+moped out of sight, about half way up the shaft.
+
+"Only two days more, dear Jessie," I said, "and then-- Will it be well
+with me, do you think?"
+
+"I think--I begin to think it will be well," she said, looking away.
+
+"Then, if so you think, why should you longer delay your choice?" I
+pleaded.
+
+"Nay, George, it is only two days more. Let it, then, remain as first
+we said, and we shall be the better satisfied at having held out to
+the proper end."
+
+Gaining nothing more from her, but feeling, in my own mind, well
+assured of ultimate success, I prepared to depart. Not to return to
+the city, indeed, for that would scarcely be worth while for such a
+little interval--but to the Penguin Light, where Barry Somers, as
+usual, had a place ready for me. But, as I was leaving, a sudden idea
+struck me--a wild, foolish fancy, it might be--yet, coming, as it did,
+with a certain investiture of originality, it fastened itself firmly
+and tenaciously upon me, and with animation I returned upon my steps.
+
+"Listen, dear Jessie!" I said. "Until Christmas morning, therefore, I
+will not see you again, for I do not wish thus vainly to renew my
+pleadings, and it will be pleasanter to know that when I meet you once
+more, it will be with sweet confession on your lips, and the
+permission to look upon you thenceforward as my own. But still, while
+we are thus separated, can we not commune together?"
+
+"How, George?"
+
+"With the lights, dear Jessie. See here, now! Mark how easily we can
+arrange our signalling, so that, across the intervening miles, we can
+flash our secret intelligence, and no one but ourselves be the wiser!
+Look!--I will now write you out some signs, and with them, at night,
+we will hold our intercourse. This very evening I will control the
+lamps at Penguin Light, and you shall read what I will therewith tell
+you. To-morrow you will answer me from here; and I, in turn, will
+decipher your sweet words. Will not that be a rare, as well as
+pleasant correspondence?"
+
+At the suggestion, her eyes brightened up with animated excitement,
+and at once she prepared to second my plan. How, indeed, could a young
+girl help approving of such a novel conception? To talk with
+beacon-lights across five miles of foaming, heaving waters, when all
+around was dark and dreary!--to flash from one sympathetic heart to
+another the glowing signals of intelligence comprehended by no other
+persons!--would not that be an achievement which would not only give
+pleasure in the actual present performance of it, but also in the
+recollection of it throughout future years? So, sitting down again,
+she eagerly listened to me, while I, drawing a paper from my pocket,
+noted down the requisite tokens, something after the usual signs
+employed in ordinary telegraphy--short and simple--and left them in
+her possession. I saw at once that she comprehended the principle; so,
+feeling no doubt that she would well perform her part, I departed,
+reading, in her pleased consciousness of sharing that novel secret
+with me, such probable indications of affection, that, for the moment,
+I could scarcely resist once more throwing myself upon her pity, and
+asking instant assurance of my happiness.
+
+But I forbore. Were I now to win her, in anticipation of that
+predetermined Christmas-day, might it not take something from the zest
+of the coming midnight correspondence?
+
+So, controlling myself, I returned to Penguin Light. I had been a
+little troubled with the idea that, perhaps, I might not be able to
+manage the matter, after all; but, almost to my joy, I found old Barry
+complaining of his rheumatism, hobbling about, and looking wrathfully
+up the winding stairs, in surly deprecation of his approaching ascent.
+Upon which I seized the favorable opportunity, and, while relieving
+him, forwarded my own views.
+
+"Let it alone for this night, Barry. Do you stay down here and make
+yourself comfortable, and I will keep watch in the lantern, and tend
+the lights."
+
+"And can you keep awake, Georgy, my boy, do you think?"
+
+"Of course I can, Barry."
+
+Whereupon, for sole answer, Barry stumped away into the closet
+below--which he called his room--laid himself carefully away upon
+his old blankets, and I mounted to the lantern. There--the hour
+of sundown having come--I lighted the lamps, and awaited my time.
+That was still some hours off; I was to do nothing until midnight.
+Meanwhile, I laid myself down to take a nap. I had promised
+watchfulness, but it was hardly necessary in the beginning of the
+night. The wicks were then fresh, and it was not likely that any
+accident could happen. It was only toward the end of the night, when
+the wicks might become incrusted or the reflectors dimmed, that
+especial care was needed.
+
+I awoke again about midnight, the hour appointed for the commencement
+of my feat. The sky had clouded over, and not a star was to be seen.
+All the better, indeed, for the experiment; for now there was no light
+to be seen in any direction, except where down the coast glimmered the
+Beacon Ledge Beacon--now faintly coming around the side, then glowing
+for a second like the mouth of a distant furnace, as its full focus of
+reflectors was pointed directly at me, then fading away, and so, for
+an instant, entirely disappearing, as it turned slowly toward the
+south. With the thick bank of clouds had come a cold wind from the
+north, premonitory of an approaching storm, though it might be days
+before it reached us--the only change to be now noted being the
+somewhat heavier swell of the surf, rolling up with a dull, sullen
+roar along the curve of the rock-bound shore.
+
+I prepared for action. As I sat in the lantern, the great brazen
+frame of polished reflectors swung around, once in each minute, within
+a few inches of the side. Beneath was the projecting handle of a
+crank, or lever, by pressing upon which the revolution could be
+instantly arrested. Stooping down, I could sit at ease, with my head
+clear from any contact with the lamps, and in that position could have
+the lever-handle within easy reach.
+
+Waiting for a moment until the reflectors pointed directly toward
+Beacon Ledge, I pressed upon the crank, and thereby suspended the
+revolution. Thus inert and motionless I held the machinery for a full
+minute, and then, lifting the rod, allowed the circuit to recommence,
+and gazed anxiously toward the other lighthouse. For a moment, no
+response; but then, as its reflectors came slowly around and pointed
+toward me, they, too, ceased in their motion for a full minute. With
+that my heart exulted. My signal for conversation had been seen and
+answered. So far, all went satisfactorily, and there was nothing left
+but to commence the main business of the night.
+
+What should I talk to Jessie about? I could not frame any lengthy
+sentences, indeed--for that, time and patience would not suffice. Nor
+could I tell her any especial piece of news: all such matters had
+already been discussed between us. Nor did it seem any thing but
+ridiculous to repeat, in such a labored manner, any of the ordinary
+commonplaces about health, or the time, or weather. The most I could
+do, in fact, would be to telegraph some short and simple idea,
+expressive of my affection for her, and of my ardent faith in its
+coming realization. This she would comprehend, and, like a proverb, it
+would tell, in brief, a whole long story.
+
+Watching until the reflectors again came round, I seized the lever,
+held the machinery in suspense for a whole minute, and then set it
+free again. Another circuit, and this time I arrested the motion for
+only fifteen seconds. A third, and here again a suspension of a whole
+minute. In this way, by putting the three circuits together, I had
+contrived to spell out the letter C--as in a telegraph office the
+operator would write a letter, though probably not the same one, with
+a long, a short, and a long scratch upon the paper slip.
+
+Again: and now I let the reflectors remain stationary, first, for a
+minute, then twice for fifteen seconds each. This--a long, and two
+short arrestations--spelled the letter H. So, little by little, I
+wrote out with the lighthouse flash against the dark sky the simple
+sentence,
+
+     "_Christmas is coming._"
+
+It was plain and expressive. It spoke to Jessie of the approaching
+day, when she should make her long-deferred decision, and when I so
+ardently anticipated that she would be mine. It reminded her that the
+time was now only a few hours distant. It told her that even those few
+hours were almost too long for me to wait. It was a short message,
+indeed, but the difficulty of thus spelling it out, letter by letter,
+made it long enough. Already, ere I had finished, my arm, as well as
+my attention, was fatigued; and when, at last, I made the long signal
+of conclusion, and gained, in reply, the token that I had been
+comprehended, I felt that I had done enough for one night, at least.
+
+Then, remaining awake, with some difficulty, until morning came, I put
+out the lights, and went down to see after old Barry. He was better;
+his rheumatism had not troubled him as much as he had feared; he would
+get up, and himself trim the lights for the coming night, and I had
+better lie down and rest. Which I gladly did, for I was tired, indeed,
+and began to have a suspicion that, though lighthouse telegraphy might
+be a pleasant excitement for once, it was inferior, as a steady means
+of communication, to the regularly established mails. So, I slept the
+sleep of the weary, if not of the just; and the morning was far
+advanced when I awoke.
+
+The new day was not stormy, as I had partly anticipated it would be,
+nor yet was it clear and beautiful. The gale seemed slowly coming on,
+but had not quite reached us. The sky was thick with scudding clouds,
+racing wildly from north to south; the air was cold and cheerless; the
+sea rolled in with a more powerful swell than usual, breaking along
+the shore with a boom like that of heavy artillery. The gulls flew
+to and fro, screaming and unsettled; a few coasting schooners,
+apprehensive of mischief, had put into the land-locked bay and there
+lay at anchor, awaiting better weather; and in one place, the
+fishermen were dragging their boats away back to the foot of the
+bluff, so as to avoid the still heavier swell which must erelong come.
+Yet, for all that, the storm had not commenced, and I could easily
+have walked over to Beacon Ledge and made my daily visit.
+
+But still I forbore. I had already told Jessie that I should not see
+her again until I came to hear the decision of my fate, and I resolved
+that I would be firm. Would it not, beside, spoil the whole romance of
+our midnight correspondence were I to visit her again so soon? I had
+signalled a greeting to her. What a lowering of sentiment it would be
+if now I were to obtain her response in commonplace manner, by mere
+word of mouth, instead of by the bright sheen of the lighthouse
+itself! Nay, that would never do. So, killing the heavy hours as best
+I could, I loitered up and down the beach, shooting at the gulls as
+ineffectually as I had before shot at the sand-pipers; watching the
+course of a few frightened vessels, which still continued to make for
+that little harbor of refuge; and, like a child, making sand-forts on
+the beach, for the pleasure of seeing them washed away again by the
+next heavy swell.
+
+Night came at last; and, as before, I volunteered to relieve Barry of
+the care of the lamps, and allow him additional opportunity to nurse
+his rheumatism. As before, he made some feeble show of hesitation, by
+way of reconciling his mind to the proffered rest, and then readily
+succumbed.
+
+"Be it so, Georgy, my boy," he said. "That is, if you are not already
+too tired. But I don't feel as bad now as last night, and may yet
+crawl up and relieve you."
+
+"Take it easy, Barry," I said. "It is not much trouble for me. I could
+stand it this fashion for a week."
+
+With that I left him alone in his snuggery, and climbed the stairs
+to the top. As upon the previous evening, I lighted the lamps, set
+the machine in motion, and then curled myself down in a corner of
+the floor to rest till midnight. I did not at once fall asleep,
+however. The gale, which had been preparing for the last thirty hours,
+now began to come in force, disturbing me with the sound of the
+wind--whistling shrilly through every crack and crevice--while the
+lighthouse itself constantly trembled with the blast. Even at that
+height, I could hear the sullen dash of the breakers against the
+shore; and once I could see, by the tremulous movement of lights far
+out to the eastward, that a large steamer was passing, and was
+laboring toilsomely with a more than usually heavy sea. She was in no
+danger, however, and gradually passed away from my line of vision.
+Then, at last, I fell asleep, though not into the soft, quiet slumber
+which I usually enjoyed. Even in my dreams the tempest followed me,
+filling my mind with distorted imaginings. The old stories, which I
+had so often heard and of late had forgotten, about pirates, and
+wrecks, and wreckers, and cruelties perpetrated upon the beach, now
+seemed to take actual life and reality. I could see the dismasted
+vessels struggling among the breakers, and the rows of hard, fierce,
+expectant faces lining the shore, and awaiting the turning up of the
+dead bodies. I was a dead body myself, even, and was being washed up
+on the beach, already drowned beyond hope of resuscitation, and yet
+strangely conscious of all that went on around me. A hand was placed
+roughly upon me, as I lay motionless upon the sand. Then, gaining new
+life, I cried aloud, and, waking, found old Barry leaning over me, and
+shaking me into consciousness.
+
+"Look over yonder, Georgy, my boy, at the Beacon Point," he said. "See
+how strangely the lights are acting. What do you make of it all?"
+
+I looked, and saw that the reflectors were pointing, motionless,
+toward me--resting there for a full minute; then they swept around
+slowly in their accustomed course, and again paused for a minute.
+Thereby I deciphered the letter M, and started into full and instant
+animation. I had, of course, overslept myself, and thereby, probably,
+lost a portion of Jessie's dear message. How much of it, indeed?
+
+"What is the hour, Barry?"
+
+"Half-past twelve," he said. "But what do you make of yonder
+business? Is it some accident to the works, do you think?--or has old
+Barkstead gone on a spree again, as they say he once did, and is now
+playing fast and loose with the lights?"
+
+While he had been speaking, new revolutions, broken, by longer or
+shorter pauses, had succeeded; and I deciphered the additional letters
+A and S.
+
+"Whatever it may be, Barry," I then answered--forcing myself to attend
+to him, and feeling a little guilty for being obliged to keep the
+mysterious secret from him--"don't you see that nothing can be done
+about it, now? Go, therefore, to bed again. This cold lantern is no
+place for you to remain in. And to-morrow, bright and early, I will go
+out myself, and ascertain what may be the matter."
+
+With that, I gently pushed Barry down the first two or three steps,
+and heard him go grumbling and puffing the rest of the way to his own
+nook. Meanwhile, the bright signalling from Beacon Point went
+on--letter after letter--until, at last, I read out the whole
+sentence:
+
+     "_----mas has come._"
+
+"Christmas has come!" This, of course, was the completion of the
+message; for it was not now difficult to supply those letters which,
+through my tardy awakening, I had missed. My heart bounded high with
+joy and exultation. Sanguinely as I had anticipated a favorable
+verdict at Jessie's hands, my utmost hopes had never asked for such a
+frank and instant admission of her preference as this. To be reminded,
+at the very first stroke of the midnight hour, that the important day
+for decision had arrived: what was this but being told that the day
+should bring its blessing with it?--that Jessie herself had awaited
+its approach as eagerly as I had, feeling as acutely the delay?--that
+now there should be no more disguise or misconstruction between us?
+Christmas had come! It was, indeed, a frank and noble response to my
+message of the night before, telling me that now, at last, she had
+surrendered her heart to my safe-keeping. Had it been possible, I
+would have run over at once to Beacon Ledge, and pressed her to my
+heart. But, of course, not the tempest merely forbade. I must wait
+until the more suitable time of morning, still many hours off.
+Therefore, composing myself as well as possible for quiet waiting, I
+sat, during the remainder of the night, musing over my pleasant
+prospects, and watching anxiously for the first ray of morning.
+
+It came at last--later than usual, for the tempest had not yet abated,
+and the approach of day was to be noted rather by the gradual
+lightening of the atmosphere, than by any gleam of eastern dawn. Then
+I extinguished the lights, stopped the machinery, and descended to old
+Barry.
+
+"I will now cross over to the Beacon Ledge," I said, "and find out
+what was the matter last night."
+
+"Without your breakfast, boy?" growled the old man.
+
+But what did I care for breakfast! My heart was too full of joy to
+care for any carnal needs; and, therefore, with some lame excuse for
+my hurry, and a guilty sense of continued deception weighing upon my
+mind, I set off, promising a speedy return. The task that I had set
+myself was no trifle, and I could not wonder at the solemn shake of
+the head with which Barry watched my departure. The tempest was at its
+height, and a blinding sheet of rain and ocean-spray drove wildly into
+my face at each step. The breakers dashed furiously upon the beach--so
+furiously, indeed, that the usual route along the hard-pressed sand
+had become impassable, and I was obliged to take a higher path
+through the loose, yielding pebbles. But I persevered bravely and
+determinedly, though so sorely fettered in my steps, and buffeted in
+my face, and, after nearly two hours, reached the other lighthouse.
+
+I entered without ceremony, and, in the angle of the first flight of
+stairs--our usual trysting-place ever since the lateness of the season
+had denied us the rock by the sea-side--I found dear Jessie. But
+she was not alone. Beside her, and too near, I thought, sat a
+pleasant-faced young man, who, at my approach, arose, and with a
+miserably counterfeited affectation of indifference, sauntered away.
+Jessie also arose, and with whitened face, came forward.
+
+"Why are you here?" she murmured. "Did I not signal it all to you, so
+that you might know the truth, and spare both yourself and me this
+meeting?"
+
+"What do you mean?" I gasped.
+
+"Did you not understand me, after all, kind friend? You know, indeed,
+that I once told you how I had loved another. I had no expectation of
+seeing him again, it is true. He was far away with his vessel when we
+departed from our little village, leaving, as you know, not a trace
+behind us; and, therefore, there was no way in which the secret of our
+present retreat could be learned by any one. Nor could I write to him
+and tell him, for he had not yet spoken to me of love, and I did not
+know but what he would choose, in the end, to forget me. But Fate,
+after all, is sometimes kind. Searching for me, without any trace to
+guide him, he had almost despaired, when, the night before this last,
+coming in from sea, he saw the Penguin Light; and noticing how, while
+you were signalling to me, at times it stopped for a moment, he
+thought it was the Upper Roadstead Light, and so ran in and made this
+little harbor by mistake. Thereby it was that we have chanced to meet
+again."
+
+"But, Jessie, you signalled to me that--"
+
+"I signalled that Thomas had come. Did you not comprehend? Or can it
+be that I had never happened to mention his name to you?"
+
+"Ah!" I feebly exclaimed, the light breaking in upon me; "Thomas was
+the word, then, was it? I thought--but no matter now for my thoughts.
+Well, farewell, Jessie. There can be no good word or wish that any one
+may give you that will not always be uttered twofold from my heart.
+You know it, kind friend, do you not?"
+
+"I know it, George, indeed," she said.
+
+And, tearing myself from her, I returned to city life. There I gave
+myself once more up to business and its cares, in hopes of drowning my
+disappointment; and now, after long months of sad regret, I have
+nearly succeeded, and have become myself again. But, at times, I lie
+awake in the middle of the night and listen to the city's roar, and in
+the sound I seem to hear once more the play of breakers on the shore
+at Beacon Ledge; and then I think, with sadness, how different might
+have been my lot, had I not so foolishly determined to utter, with the
+lighthouse lamps, and so many miles across, those words of greeting
+which should have been softly whispered instead, by lowly pleading
+lips, into closely attentive, willing ears.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
+
+Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise
+every effort has been made to remain true to the authors' words and
+intent.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Stories by American Authors, Volume 9, by Various
+
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Stories By American Authors, Volume 9, by Various.
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Stories by American Authors, Volume 9, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Stories by American Authors, Volume 9
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 6, 2010 [EBook #31194]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES--AMERICAN AUTHORS, VOL 9 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p class="front1"><span style="margin-left: 5em;">Stories by</span></p>
+<p class="front2"><span style="margin-right: 5em;">American Authors</span></p>
+
+<h3>VOLUME IX</h3>
+
+<p class="gap">&#160;</p>
+
+<div class="centered">
+<table border="0" width="80%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="1" summary="CONTENTS">
+
+<tr>
+<td align="left"><a href="#MARSE_CHAN"><i>MARSE CHAN</i></a></td>
+<td class="bl" align="center">&#160;</td>
+<td align="left"><a href="#YOUNG_STRONG_OF_THE_CLARION"><i>YOUNG STRONG OF &#8220;THE</i><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>CLARION&#8221;</i></span></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right"><small>BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE</small></td>
+<td class="bl" align="center">&#160;</td>
+<td align="right"><small>BY MILICENT WASHBURN SHINN</small></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="left"><a href="#MR_BIXBYS_CHRISTMAS_VISITOR"><i>MR. BIXBY&#8217;S CHRISTMAS VISITOR</i></a></td>
+<td class="bl" align="center">&#160;</td>
+<td align="left"><a href="#HOW_OLD_WIGGINS_WORE_SHIP"><i>HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP</i></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right"><small>BY CHARLES S. GAGE</small></td>
+<td class="bl" align="center">&#160;</td>
+<td align="right"><small>BY CAPTAIN ROLAND T. COFFIN</small></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="left"><a href="#ELI"><i>ELI</i></a></td>
+<td class="bl" align="center">&#160;</td>
+<td align="left"><a href="#mdashMAS_HAS_COME"><i>&#8220;&mdash;&mdash;MAS HAS COME&#8221;</i></a></td></tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td align="right"><small>BY C. H. WHITE</small></td>
+<td class="bl" align="center">&#160;</td>
+<td align="right"><small>BY LEONARD KIP</small></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<h4>NEW YORK</h4>
+<h3>CHARLES SCRIBNER&#8217;S SONS</h3>
+<h4>1896</h4>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1885, by</span><br />
+CHARLES SCRIBNER&#8217;S SONS</p>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<div class="centerbox bbox"><small><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup></small> <i>The Stories in this Volume are protected by<br />
+copyright, and are printed here by authority of the authors or their representatives.</i></div>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 310px;">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="310" height="500" alt="Thos. N. Page" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MARSE_CHAN" id="MARSE_CHAN"></a>MARSE CHAN.</h2>
+
+<h3>A TALE OF OLD VIRGINIA.</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Thomas Nelson Page.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8258; <i>Century Magazine April, 1884.</i></p>
+
+<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">O</span>ne afternoon, in the autumn of 1872, I was riding leisurely down the
+sandy road that winds along the top of the water-shed between two of
+the smaller rivers of eastern Virginia. The road I was travelling,
+following &#8220;the ridge&#8221; for miles, had just struck me as most
+significant of the character of the race whose only avenue of
+communication with the outside world it had formerly been. Their once
+splendid mansions, now fast falling to decay, appeared to view from
+time to time, set back far from the road, in proud seclusion among
+groves of oak and hickory now scarlet and gold with the early frost.
+Distance was nothing to this people; time was of no consequence to
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>them. They desired but a level path in life, and that they had,
+though the way was longer and the outer world strode by them as they
+dreamed.</p>
+
+<p>I was aroused from my reflections by hearing some one ahead of me
+calling, &#8220;Heah!&mdash;heah-whoo-oop, heah!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Turning the curve in the road, I saw just before me a negro standing,
+with a hoe and a watering-pot in his hand. He had evidently just
+gotten over the &#8220;worm-fence&#8221; into the road, out of the path which led
+zigzag across the &#8220;old field&#8221; and was lost to sight in the dense
+growth of sassafras. When I rode up, he was looking anxiously back
+down this path for his dog. So engrossed was he that he did not even
+hear my horse, and I reined in to wait until he should turn around and
+satisfy my curiosity as to the handsome old place half a mile off from
+the road.</p>
+
+<p>The numerous out-buildings and the large barns and stables told that
+it had once been the seat of wealth, and the wild waste of sassafras
+that covered the broad fields gave it an air of desolation that
+greatly excited my interest. Entirely oblivious of my proximity, the
+negro went on calling, &#8220;Whoo-oop, heah!&#8221; until along the path, walking
+very slowly and with great dignity, appeared a noble-looking old
+orange and white setter, gray with age, and corpulent with excessive
+feeding. As soon as he came in sight, his master began:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, dat you! You gittin&#8217; deaf as well as bline, I s&#8217;pose! Kyarnt
+heah me callin&#8217;, I reckon? Whyn&#8217;t yo&#8217; come on, dawg?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p><p>The setter sauntered slowly up to the fence and stopped without even
+deigning a look at the speaker, who immediately proceeded to take the
+rails down, talking meanwhile:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, I got to pull down de gap, I s&#8217;pose! Yo&#8217; so sp&#8217;ilt yo&#8217; kyahn&#8217;
+hardly walk. Jes&#8217; ez able to git over it as I is! Jes&#8217; like white
+folks&mdash;t&#8217;ink &#8217;cuz you&#8217;s white and I&#8217;s black, I got to wait on yo&#8217; all
+de time. Ne&#8217;m mine, I ain&#8217; gwi&#8217; do it!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The fence having been pulled down sufficiently low to suit his
+dogship, he marched sedately through, and, with a hardly perceptible
+lateral movement of his tail, walked on down the road. Putting up the
+rails carefully, the negro turned and saw me.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sarvent, marster,&#8221; he said, taking his hat off. Then, as if
+apologetically for having permitted a stranger to witness what was
+merely a family affair, he added: &#8220;He know I don&#8217; mean nothin&#8217; by what
+I sez. He&#8217;s Marse Chan&#8217;s dawg, an&#8217; he&#8217;s so ole he kyahn git long no
+pearter. He know I&#8217;se jes&#8217; prodjickin&#8217; wid &#8217;im.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who is Marse Chan?&#8221; I asked; &#8220;and whose place is that over there&mdash;and
+the one a mile or two back&mdash;the place with the big gate and the carved
+stone pillars?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Marse Chan,&#8221; said the darkey, &#8220;he&#8217;s Marse Channin&#8217;&mdash;my young marster;
+an&#8217; dem places&mdash;dis one&#8217;s Weall&#8217;s, an&#8217; de one back dyar wid de rock
+gate-pos&#8217;s is ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s. Dey don&#8217; nobody live dyar
+now, &#8217;cep&#8217; niggers. Arfter <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>de war some one or nudder bought our place,
+but his name done kind o&#8217; slipped me. I nuvver hearn on &#8217;im befo&#8217;; I
+think dey&#8217;s half-strainers. I don&#8217; ax none on &#8217;em no odds. I lives
+down de road heah, a little piece, an&#8217; I jes&#8217; steps down of a evenin&#8217;
+and looks arfter de graves.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, where is Marse Chan?&#8221; I asked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hi! don&#8217; you know? Marse Chan, he went in de army. I wuz wid &#8217;im. Yo&#8217;
+know he warn&#8217; gwine an&#8217; lef&#8217; Sam.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you tell me all about it?&#8221; I said, dismounting.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly, and as if by instinct, the darkey stepped forward and took
+my bridle. I demurred a little; but with a bow that would have honored
+old Sir Roger, he shortened the reins, and taking my horse from me,
+led him along.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now tell me about Marse Chan,&#8221; I said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lawd, marster, hit&#8217;s so long ago, I&#8217;d a&#8217;most forgit all about it, ef
+I hedn&#8217; been wid him ever sence he wuz born. Ez &#8217;tis, I remembers it
+jes&#8217; like &#8217;twuz yistiddy. Yo&#8217; know Marse Chan an&#8217; me&mdash;we wuz boys
+togedder. I wuz older&#8217;n he wuz, jes&#8217; de same ez he wuz whiter&#8217;n me. I
+wuz born plantin&#8217; corn time, de spring arfter big Jim an&#8217; de six
+steers got washed away at de upper ford right down dyar b&#8217;low de
+quarters ez he wuz a bringin&#8217; de Chris&#8217;mas things home; an&#8217; Marse
+Chan, he warn&#8217; born tell mos&#8217; to der harves&#8217; arfter my sister Nancy
+married Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s Torm, &#8217;bout eight years arfterwards.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Well, when Marse Chan wuz born dey wuz de grettes&#8217; doin&#8217;s at home you
+ever did see. De folks all hed holiday, jes&#8217; like in de Chris&#8217;mas. Ole
+marster (we didn&#8217; call &#8217;im <i>ole</i> marster tell arfter Marse Chan wuz
+born&mdash;befo&#8217; dat he wuz jes&#8217; de marster, so)&mdash;well, ole marster, his
+face fyar shine wid pleasure, an&#8217; all de folks wuz mighty glad, too,
+&#8217;cause dey all loved ole marster, and aldo&#8217; dey did step aroun&#8217; right
+peart when ole marster wuz lookin&#8217; at &#8217;em, dyar warn&#8217; nyar han&#8217; on de
+place but what, ef he wanted anythin&#8217;, would walk up to de back poach,
+an&#8217; say he warn&#8217; to see de marster. An&#8217; ev&#8217;ybody wuz talkin&#8217; &#8217;bout de
+young marster, an&#8217; de maids an&#8217; de wimmens &#8217;bout de kitchen wuz sayin&#8217;
+how &#8217;twuz de purties&#8217; chile dey ever see; an&#8217; at dinner-time de mens
+(all on &#8217;em hed holiday) come roun&#8217; de poach an&#8217; ax how de missis an&#8217;
+de young marster wuz, an&#8217; ole marster come out on de poach an&#8217; smile
+wus&#8217;n a &#8217;possum, an&#8217; sez, &#8216;Thankee! Bofe doin&#8217; fust rate, boys;&#8217; an&#8217;
+den he stepped back in de house, sort o&#8217; laughin&#8217; to hisse&#8217;f, an&#8217; in a
+minute he come out ag&#8217;in wid de baby in he arms, all wrapped up in
+flannens an&#8217; things, an&#8217; sez, &#8216;Heah he is, boys.&#8217; All de folks den,
+dey went up on de poach to look at &#8217;im, drappin&#8217; dey hats on de steps,
+an&#8217; scrapin&#8217; dey feets ez dey went up. An&#8217; pres&#8217;n&#8217;y ole marster,
+lookin&#8217; down at we all chil&#8217;en all packed togedder down deah like a
+parecel o&#8217; sheep-burrs, cotch sight o&#8217; <i>me</i> (he knowed my name, &#8217;cause
+I use&#8217; to hole he hoss fur &#8217;im sometimes; but he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>didn&#8217; know all de
+chil&#8217;en by name, dey wuz so many on &#8217;em), an&#8217; he sez, &#8216;Come up heah.&#8217;
+So up I goes tippin&#8217;, skeered like, an&#8217; old marster sez, &#8216;Ain&#8217; you
+Mymie&#8217;s son?&#8217; &#8216;Yass, seh,&#8217; sez I. &#8216;Well,&#8217; sez he, &#8216;I&#8217;m gwine to give
+you to yo&#8217; young Marse Channin&#8217; to be his body-servant,&#8217; an&#8217; he put de
+baby right in my arms (it&#8217;s de truth I&#8217;m tellin&#8217; you!), an&#8217; yo&#8217; jes&#8217;
+ought to a-heard de folks sayin&#8217;, &#8216;Lawd! marster, dat boy&#8217;ll drap dat
+chile!&#8217; &#8216;Naw, he won&#8217;t,&#8217; sez marster; &#8216;I kin trust &#8217;im.&#8217; And den he
+sez: &#8216;Now, Sam, from dis time you belong to yo&#8217; young Marse Channin&#8217;;
+I wan&#8217; you to tek keer on &#8217;im ez long ez he lives. You are to be his
+boy from dis time. An&#8217; now,&#8217; he sez, &#8216;carry &#8217;im in de house.&#8217; An&#8217; he
+walks arfter me an&#8217; opens de do&#8217;s fur me, an&#8217; I kyars &#8217;im in my arms,
+an&#8217; lays &#8217;im down on de bed. An&#8217; from dat time I wuz tooken in de
+house to be Marse Channin&#8217;s body-servant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you nuvver see a chile grow so. Pres&#8217;n&#8217;y he growed up right
+big, an&#8217; ole marster sez he must have some edication. So he sont &#8217;im
+to school to ole Miss Lawry down dyar, dis side o&#8217; Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s,
+an&#8217; I use&#8217; to go &#8217;long wid &#8217;im an&#8217; tote he books an&#8217; we all&#8217;s snacks;
+an&#8217; when he larnt to read an&#8217; spell right good, an&#8217; got &#8217;bout so-o
+big, old Miss Lawry she died, an&#8217; ole marster said he mus&#8217; have a man
+to teach &#8217;im an&#8217; trounce &#8217;im. So we all went to Mr. Hall, whar kep&#8217; de
+school-house beyant de creek, an&#8217; dyar we went ev&#8217;y day, &#8217;cep&#8217;
+Sat&#8217;d&#8217;ys of co&#8217;se, an&#8217; sich days <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>ez Marse Chan din&#8217; warn&#8217; go, an&#8217; ole
+missis begged &#8217;im off.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hit wuz down dyar Marse Chan fust took notice o&#8217; Miss Anne. Mr. Hall,
+he taught gals ez well ez boys, an&#8217; Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he sont his
+daughter (dat&#8217;s Miss Anne I&#8217;m talkin&#8217; about). She wuz a leetle bit o&#8217;
+gal when she fust come. Yo&#8217; see, her ma wuz dead, an&#8217; ole Miss Lucy
+Chahmb&#8217;lin, she lived wid her brudder an&#8217; kep&#8217; house for &#8217;im; an&#8217; he
+wuz so busy wid politics, he didn&#8217; have much time to spyar, so he sont
+Miss Anne to Mr. Hall&#8217;s by a &#8217;ooman wid a note. When she come dat day
+in de school-house, an&#8217; all de chil&#8217;en looked at her so hard, she tu&#8217;n
+right red, an&#8217; tried to pull her long curls over her eyes, an&#8217; den put
+bofe de backs of her little han&#8217;s in her two eyes, an&#8217; begin to cry to
+herse&#8217;f. Marse Chan he was settin&#8217; on de een&#8217; o&#8217; de bench nigh de do&#8217;,
+an&#8217; he jes&#8217; reached out an&#8217; put he arm roun&#8217; her an&#8217; drawed her up to
+&#8217;im. An&#8217; he kep&#8217; whisperin&#8217; to her, an&#8217; callin&#8217; her name, an&#8217; coddlin&#8217;
+her; an&#8217; pres&#8217;n&#8217;y she took her han&#8217;s down an&#8217; begin to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, dey &#8217;peared to tek&#8217; a gre&#8217;t fancy to each udder from dat time.
+Miss Anne she warn&#8217; nuthin&#8217; but a baby hardly, an&#8217; Marse Chan he wuz a
+good big boy &#8217;bout mos&#8217; thirteen years ole, I reckon. Hows&#8217;ever, dey
+sut&#8217;n&#8217;y wuz sot on each udder an&#8217; (yo&#8217; heah me!) ole marster an&#8217; Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin dey &#8217;peared to like it &#8217;bout well ez de chil&#8217;en. Yo&#8217; see
+Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s place <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>j&#8217;ined ourn, an&#8217; it looked jes&#8217; ez natural
+fur dem two chil&#8217;en to marry an&#8217; mek it one plantation, ez it did fur
+de creek to run down de bottom from our place into Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s.
+I don&#8217; rightly think de chil&#8217;en thought &#8217;bout gittin&#8217; <i>married</i>, not
+den, no mo&#8217;n I thought &#8217;bout marryin&#8217; Judy when she wuz a little gal
+at Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s, runnin&#8217; &#8217;bout de house, huntin&#8217; fur Miss Lucy&#8217;s
+spectacles; but dey wuz good frien&#8217;s from de start. Marse Chan he use&#8217;
+to kyar Miss Anne&#8217;s books fur her ev&#8217;y day, an&#8217; ef de road wuz muddy
+or she wuz tired, he use&#8217; to tote her; an&#8217; &#8217;twarn&#8217; hardly a day passed
+dat he didn&#8217; kyar her some&#8217;n&#8217; to school&mdash;apples or hick&#8217;y nuts, or
+some&#8217;n&#8217;. He wouldn&#8217; let none o&#8217; de chil&#8217;en tease her, nudder. Heh! One
+day, one o&#8217; de boys poked he finger at Miss Anne, an&#8217; arfter school
+Marse Chan he axed &#8217;im &#8217;roun&#8217; hine de school-house out o&#8217; sight, an&#8217;
+ef he didn&#8217; whop &#8217;im!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Marse Chan, he wuz de peartes&#8217; scholar ole Mr. Hall hed, an&#8217; Mr. Hall
+he wuz mighty proud o&#8217; &#8217;im. I don&#8217; think he use&#8217; to beat &#8217;im ez much
+ez he did de udders, aldo&#8217; he wuz de head in all debilment dat went
+on, jes&#8217; ez he wuz in sayin&#8217; he lessons.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Heh! one day in summer, jes&#8217; &#8217;fo&#8217; de school broke up, dyah come up a
+storm right sudden, an&#8217; riz de creek (dat one yo&#8217; cross&#8217; back yonder),
+an&#8217; Marse Chan he toted Miss Anne home on he back. He ve&#8217;y off&#8217;n did
+dat when de parf wuz muddy. But dis day when dey come to de creek, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>it
+had done washed all de logs &#8217;way. &#8217;Twuz still mighty high, so Marse
+Chan he put Miss Anne down, an&#8217; he took a pole an&#8217; waded right in. Hit
+took &#8217;im long up to de shoulders. Den he waded back, an&#8217; took Miss
+Anne up on his head an&#8217; kyar&#8217;d her right over. At fust she wuz
+skeered; but he tol&#8217; her he could swim an&#8217; wouldn&#8217; let her git hu&#8217;t,
+an&#8217; den she let &#8217;im kyar her &#8217;cross, she hol&#8217;in&#8217; his han&#8217;s. I warn&#8217;
+&#8217;long dat day, but he sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did dat thing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ole marster he wuz so pleased &#8217;bout it, he giv&#8217; Marse Chan a pony;
+an&#8217; Marse Chan rode &#8217;im to school de day arfter he come, so proud, an&#8217;
+sayin&#8217; how he wuz gwine to let Anne ride behine &#8217;im; an&#8217; when he come
+home dat evenin&#8217; he wuz walkin&#8217;. &#8216;Hi! where&#8217;s yo&#8217; pony?&#8217; said ole
+marster. &#8216;I give &#8217;im to Anne,&#8217; says Marse Chan. &#8216;She liked &#8217;im, an&#8217;&mdash;I
+kin walk.&#8217; &#8216;Yes,&#8217; sez ole marster, laughin&#8217;, &#8216;I s&#8217;pose you&#8217;s already
+done giv&#8217; her yo&#8217;se&#8217;f, an&#8217; nex&#8217; thing I know you&#8217;ll be givin&#8217; her this
+plantation and all my niggers.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, about a fortnight or sich a matter arfter dat, Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin
+sont over an&#8217; invited all o&#8217; we all over to dinner, an&#8217; Marse Chan wuz
+&#8217;spressly named in de note whar Ned brought; an&#8217; arfter dinner he made
+ole Phil, whar wuz his ker&#8217;ige-driver, bring roun&#8217; Marse Chan&#8217;s pony
+wid a little side-saddle on &#8217;im, an&#8217; a beautiful little hoss wid a
+bran&#8217;-new saddle an&#8217; bridle on &#8217;im; an&#8217; he gits up an&#8217; meks Marse Chan
+a gre&#8217;t speech, an&#8217; presents &#8217;im de little hoss; an&#8217; den he calls Miss
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>Anne, an&#8217; she comes out on de poach in a little ridin&#8217; frock, an&#8217; dey
+puts her on her pony, an&#8217; Marse Chan mounts his hoss, an&#8217; dey goes to
+ride, while de grown folks is a-laughin&#8217; an&#8217; chattin&#8217; an&#8217; smokin&#8217; dey
+cigars.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dem wuz good ole times, marster&mdash;de bes&#8217; Sam ever see! Dey wuz, in
+fac&#8217;! Niggers didn&#8217; hed nothin&#8217; &#8217;t all to do&mdash;jes&#8217; hed to &#8217;ten&#8217; to de
+feedin&#8217;, an&#8217; cleanin&#8217; de hosses, an&#8217; doin&#8217; what de marster tell &#8217;em to
+do; an&#8217; when dey wuz sick, dey had things sont &#8217;em out de house, an&#8217;
+de same doctor come to see &#8217;em whar &#8217;ten&#8217; to de white folks when dey
+wuz po&#8217;ly. Dyar warn&#8217; no trouble nor nothin&#8217;.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, things tuk a change arfter dat. Marse Chan he went to de
+bo&#8217;din&#8217; school, whar he use&#8217; to write to me constant. Ole missis use&#8217;
+to read me de letters, an&#8217; den I&#8217;d git Miss Anne to read &#8217;em ag&#8217;in to
+me when I&#8217;d see her. He use&#8217; to write to her too, an&#8217; she use&#8217; to
+write to him too. Den Miss Anne she wuz sont off to school too. An&#8217; in
+de summer time dey&#8217;d bofe come home, an&#8217; yo&#8217; hardly knowed whether
+Marse Chan lived at home or over at Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s. He wuz over
+dyah constant. &#8217;Twuz always ridin&#8217; or fishin&#8217; down dyah, in de river;
+or sometimes he&#8217; go over dyah, an&#8217; &#8217;im an&#8217; she&#8217;d go out an&#8217; set in de
+yard onder de trees; she settin&#8217; up mekin&#8217; out she wuz knittin&#8217; some
+sort o&#8217; bright-cullored some&#8217;n&#8217;, wid de grarss growin&#8217; all up &#8217;g&#8217;inst
+her, an&#8217; her hat th&#8217;owed back on her neck, an&#8217; he readin&#8217; to her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>out
+books; an&#8217; sometimes dey&#8217;d bofe read out de same book, fust one an&#8217;
+den todder. I use&#8217; to see &#8217;em! Dat wuz when dey wuz growin&#8217; up like.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Den ole marster he run for Congress, an&#8217; ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he wuz
+put up to run &#8217;g&#8217;inst ole marster by de Dimicrats; but ole marster he
+beat &#8217;im. Yo&#8217; know he wuz gwine do dat! Co&#8217;se he wuz! Dat made ole
+Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin mighty mad, and dey stopt visitin&#8217; each udder
+reg&#8217;lar, like dey had been doin&#8217; all &#8217;long. Den Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he
+sort o&#8217; got in debt, an&#8217; sell some o&#8217; he niggers, an&#8217; dat&#8217;s de way de
+fuss begun. Dat&#8217;s whar de lawsuit cum from. Ole marster he didn&#8217; like
+nobody to sell niggers, an&#8217; knowin&#8217; dat Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin wuz sellin&#8217;
+o&#8217; his, he writ an&#8217; offered to buy his M&#8217;ria an&#8217; all her chil&#8217;en,
+&#8217;cause she hed married our Zeek&#8217;yel. An&#8217; don&#8217; yo&#8217; t&#8217;ink, Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin axed ole marster mo&#8217; &#8217;n th&#8217;ee niggers wuz wuth fur M&#8217;ria.
+Befo&#8217; old marster bought her, dough, de sheriff cum an&#8217; levelled on
+M&#8217;ria an&#8217; a whole parecel o&#8217; udder niggers. Ole marster he went to de
+sale, an&#8217; bid for &#8217;em; but Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he got some one to bid
+&#8217;g&#8217;&#8217;nst ole marster. Dey wuz knocked out to ole marster dough, an&#8217; den
+dey hed a big lawsuit, an&#8217; ole marster wuz agwine to co&#8217;t, off an&#8217; on,
+fur some years, till at lars&#8217; de co&#8217;t decided dat M&#8217;ria belonged to
+ole marster. Ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin den wuz so mad he sued ole marster
+for a little strip o&#8217; lan&#8217; down dyah on de line fence, whar he said
+belonged to &#8217;im. Ev&#8217;ybody knowed hit belonged <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>to ole marster. Ef yo&#8217;
+go down dyah now, I kin show it to yo&#8217;, inside de line fence, whar it
+hed done bin ever since long befo&#8217; ole marster wuz born. But Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin wuz a mons&#8217;us perseverin&#8217; man, an&#8217; ole marster he wouldn&#8217;
+let nobody run over &#8217;im. No, dat he wouldn&#8217;! So dey wuz agwine down to
+co&#8217;t about dat, fur I don&#8217; know how long, till ole marster beat &#8217;im.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;All dis time, yo&#8217; know, Marse Chan wuz a-goin&#8217; back&#8217;ads an&#8217; for&#8217;ads
+to college, an&#8217; wuz growed up a ve&#8217;y fine young man. He wuz a ve&#8217;y
+likely gent&#8217;man! Miss Anne she hed done mos&#8217; growed up, too&mdash;wuz
+puttin&#8217; her hyar up like ole missis use&#8217; to put hers up, an&#8217; &#8217;twuz
+jes&#8217; ez bright ez de sorrel&#8217;s mane when de sun cotch on it, an&#8217; her
+eyes wuz gre&#8217;t big dark eyes, like her pa&#8217;s, on&#8217;y bigger an&#8217; not so
+fierce, an&#8217; &#8217;twarn&#8217; none o&#8217; de young ladies ez purty ez she wuz. She
+an&#8217; Marse Chan still set a heap o&#8217; sto&#8217; by one &#8217;nudder, but I don&#8217;
+t&#8217;ink dey wuz easy wid each udder ez when he used to tote her home
+from school on his back. Marse Chan he use&#8217; to love de ve&#8217;y groun&#8217; she
+walked on, dough, in my &#8217;pinion. Heh! His face &#8217;twould light up
+whenever she come into chu&#8217;ch, or anywhere, jes&#8217; like de sun hed come
+th&#8217;oo a chink on it suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Den ole marster lost he eyes. D&#8217; yo&#8217; ever hyah &#8217;bout dat? Heish!
+Didn&#8217; yo&#8217;? Well, one night de big barn cotch fire. De stables, yo&#8217;
+know, wuz under de big barn, an&#8217; all de hosses wuz in dyah. Hit
+&#8217;peared to me like &#8217;twarn&#8217; no time befo&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>all de folks an&#8217; de
+neighbors dey come, an&#8217; dey wuz a-totin&#8217; water, an&#8217; a-tryin&#8217; to save
+de po&#8217; critters, an&#8217; dey got a heap on &#8217;em out; but de ker&#8217;ige-hosses
+dey wouldn&#8217; come out, an&#8217; dey wuz a-runnin&#8217; back&#8217;ads an&#8217; for&#8217;ads
+inside de stalls, a-nikerin&#8217; an&#8217; a-screamin&#8217;, like dey knowed dey time
+hed come. Yo&#8217; could heah &#8217;em so pitiful, an&#8217; pres&#8217;n&#8217;y ole marster said
+to Ham Fisher (he wuz de ker&#8217;ige-driver), &#8216;Go in dyah an&#8217; try to save
+&#8217;em; don&#8217; let &#8217;em bu&#8217;n to death.&#8217; An&#8217; Ham he went right in. An&#8217; jes&#8217;
+arfter he got in, de shed whar it hed fus&#8217; cotch fell in, an&#8217; de
+sparks shot &#8217;way up in de air; an&#8217; Ham didn&#8217; come back, an&#8217; de fire
+begun to lick out under de eaves over whar de ker&#8217;ige-hosses&#8217; stalls
+wuz, an&#8217; all of a sudden ole marster tu&#8217;ned and kissed ole missis, who
+wuz standin&#8217; nigh him, wid her face jes&#8217; ez white ez a sperit&#8217;s, an&#8217;,
+befo&#8217; anybody knowed what he wuz gwine do, jumped right in de do&#8217;, an&#8217;
+de smoke come po&#8217;in&#8217; out behine &#8217;im. Well, seh, I nuvver &#8217;specks to
+hyah tell Judgment sich a soun&#8217; ez de folks set up. Ole missis she
+jes&#8217; drapt down on her knees in de mud an&#8217; prayed out loud. Hit
+&#8217;peared like her pra&#8217;r wuz heard; for in a minit, right out de same
+do&#8217;, kyarin&#8217; Ham Fisher in his arms, come ole marster, wid his clo&#8217;es
+all blazin&#8217;. Dey flung water on &#8217;im, an&#8217; put &#8217;im out; an&#8217;, ef you
+b&#8217;lieve me, yo&#8217; wouldn&#8217; a-knowed &#8217;twuz ole marster. Yo&#8217; see, he hed
+find Ham Fisher done fall down in de smoke right by de ker&#8217;ige-hoss&#8217;
+stalls, whar he sont him, an&#8217; he hed to tote &#8217;im <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>back in his arms
+th&#8217;oo de fire what hed done cotch de front part o&#8217; de stable, an&#8217; to
+keep de flame from gittin&#8217; down Ham Fisher&#8217;s th&#8217;ote he hed tuk off his
+own hat and mashed it all over Ham Fisher&#8217;s face, an&#8217; he hed kep&#8217; Ham
+Fisher from bein&#8217; so much bu&#8217;nt; but <i>he</i> wuz bu&#8217;nt dreadful! His
+beard an&#8217; hyar wuz all nyawed off, an&#8217; his face an&#8217; han&#8217;s an&#8217; neck wuz
+scorified terrible. Well, he jes&#8217; laid Ham Fisher down, an&#8217; then he
+kind o&#8217; staggered for&#8217;ad, an&#8217; ole missis ketch&#8217; &#8217;im in her arms. Ham
+Fisher, he warnt bu&#8217;nt so bad, an&#8217; he got out in a month or two; an&#8217;
+arfter a long time, ole marster he got well, too; but he wuz always
+stone bline arfter dat. He nuvver could see none from dat night.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Marse Chan he comed home from college toreckly, an&#8217; he sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did
+nuss ole marster faithful&mdash;jes&#8217; like a &#8217;ooman. Den he took charge o&#8217;
+de plantation arfter dat; an&#8217; I use&#8217; to wait on &#8217;im jes&#8217; like when we
+wuz boys togedder; an&#8217; sometimes we&#8217;d slip off an&#8217; have a fox-hunt,
+an&#8217; he&#8217;d be jes&#8217; like he wuz in ole times, befo&#8217; ole marster got
+bline, an&#8217; Miss Anne Chahmb&#8217;lin stopt comin&#8217; over to our house, an&#8217;
+settin&#8217; onder de trees, readin&#8217; out de same book.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He sut&#8217;n&#8217;y wuz good to me. Nothin&#8217; nuvver made no diffunce &#8217;bout dat.
+He nuvver hit me a lick in his life&mdash;an&#8217; nuvver let nobody else do it,
+nudder.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I &#8217;members one day, when he wuz a leetle bit o&#8217; boy, ole marster hed
+done tole we all chil&#8217;en not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>to slide on de straw-stacks; an&#8217; one day
+me an&#8217; Marse Chan thought ole marster hed done gone &#8217;way from home. We
+watched him git on he hoss an&#8217; ride up de road out o&#8217; sight, an&#8217; we
+wuz out in de field a-slidin&#8217; an&#8217; a-slidin&#8217;, when up comes ole
+marster. We started to run; but he hed done see us, an&#8217; he called us
+to come back; an&#8217; sich a whoppin&#8217; ez he did gi&#8217; us!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fust he took Marse Chan, an&#8217; den he teched me up. He nuvver hu&#8217;t me,
+but in co&#8217;se I wuz a-hollerin&#8217; ez hard ez I could stave it, &#8217;cause I
+knowed dat wuz gwine mek him stop. Marse Chan he hed&#8217;n open he mouf
+long ez ole marster wuz tunin&#8217; &#8217;im; but soon ez he commence warmin&#8217; me
+an&#8217; I begin to holler, Marse Chan he bu&#8217;st out cryin&#8217;, an&#8217; stept right
+in befo&#8217; ole marster, an&#8217; ketchin&#8217; de whop, sed:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Stop, seh! Yo&#8217; sha&#8217;n&#8217;t whop &#8217;im; he b&#8217;longs to me, an&#8217; ef you hit
+&#8217;im another lick I&#8217;ll set &#8217;im free!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I wish yo&#8217; hed see ole marster. Marse Chan he warn&#8217; mo&#8217;n eight years
+ole, an&#8217; dyah dey wuz&mdash;ole marster stan&#8217;in&#8217; wid he whop raised up, an&#8217;
+Marse Chan red an&#8217; cryin&#8217;, hol&#8217;in&#8217; on to it, an&#8217; sayin&#8217; I b&#8217;longst to
+&#8217;im.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ole marster, he raise&#8217; de whop, an&#8217; den he drapt it, an&#8217; broke out in
+a smile over he face, an&#8217; he chuck&#8217; Marse Chan onder der chin, an&#8217;
+tu&#8217;n right roun&#8217; an&#8217; went away, laughin&#8217; to hisse&#8217;f, an&#8217; I heah&#8217; &#8217;im
+tellin&#8217; ole missis dat evenin&#8217;, an&#8217; laughin&#8217; &#8217;bout it.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;&#8217;Twan&#8217; so mighty long arfter dat when dey fust got to talkin&#8217; &#8217;bout
+de war. Dey wuz a-dictatin&#8217; back&#8217;ads an&#8217; for&#8217;ads &#8217;bout it fur two or
+th&#8217;ee years &#8217;fo&#8217; it come sho&#8217; nuff, you know. Ole marster, he wuz a
+Whig, an&#8217; of co&#8217;se Marse Chan he tuk after he pa. Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin, he
+wuz a Dimicrat. He wuz in favor of de war, an&#8217; ole marster and Marse
+Chan dey wuz agin&#8217; it. Dey wuz a-talkin&#8217; &#8217;bout it all de time, an&#8217;
+purty soon Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he went about ev&#8217;vywhar speakin&#8217; an&#8217;
+noratin&#8217; &#8217;bout Firginia ought to secede; an&#8217; Marse Chan he wuz picked
+up to talk agin&#8217; &#8217;im. Dat wuz de way dey come to fight de duil. I
+sut&#8217;n&#8217;y wuz skeered fur Marse Chan dat mawnin&#8217;, an&#8217; he was jes&#8217; ez
+cool! Yo&#8217; see, it happen so: Marse Chan he wuz a-speakin&#8217; down at de
+Deep Creek Tavern, an&#8217; he kind o&#8217; got de bes&#8217; of ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin.
+All de white folks laughed an&#8217; hoorawed, an&#8217; ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&mdash;my
+Lawd! I t&#8217;ought he&#8217;d &#8217;a&#8217; bu&#8217;st, he wuz so mad. Well, when it come to
+his time to speak, he jes&#8217; light into Marse Chan. He call &#8217;im a
+traitor, an&#8217; a ab&#8217;litionis&#8217;, an&#8217; I don&#8217; know what all. Marse Chan, he
+jes&#8217; kep&#8217; cool till de ole Cun&#8217;l light into he pa. Ez soon ez he name
+ole marster, I seen Marse Chan sort o&#8217; lif&#8217; up he head. D&#8217; yo&#8217; ever
+see a hoss rar he head up right sudden at night when he see somethin&#8217;
+comin&#8217; to&#8217;ds &#8217;im from de side an&#8217; he don&#8217; know what &#8217;tis? Ole Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin, he went right on. He said ole marster hed taught Marse
+Chan; dat ole marster wuz a wuss ab&#8217;litionis&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>dan he son. I looked at
+Marse Chan, an&#8217; sez to myse&#8217;f: &#8216;Fo&#8217; Gord! old Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin better
+min&#8217;, an&#8217; I hedn&#8217; got de wuds out, when ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin &#8217;cuse&#8217;
+ole marster o&#8217; cheatin&#8217; &#8217;im out o&#8217; he niggers, an&#8217; stealin&#8217; piece o&#8217;
+he lan&#8217;&mdash;dat&#8217;s de lan&#8217; I tole you &#8217;bout. Well, seh, nex&#8217; thing I
+knowed, I heahed Marse Chan&mdash;hit all happen right &#8217;long togedder, like
+lightnin&#8217; an&#8217; thunder when dey hit right at you&mdash;I heah &#8217;im say:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin, what you say is false, an&#8217; yo&#8217; know it to be so.
+You have wilfully slandered one of the pures&#8217; an&#8217; nobles&#8217; men Gord
+ever made, an&#8217; nothin&#8217; but yo&#8217; gray hyars protects you.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin, he ra&#8217;ed an&#8217; he pitch&#8217;d. He said he wan&#8217;
+too ole, an&#8217; he&#8217;d show &#8217;im so.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Ve&#8217;y well,&#8217; says Marse Chan.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;De meetin&#8217; broke up den. I wuz hol&#8217;in de hosses out dyar in de road
+by de een&#8217; o&#8217; de poach, an&#8217; I see Marse Chan talkin&#8217; an&#8217; talkin&#8217; to
+Mr. Gordon an&#8217; anudder gent&#8217;man, an&#8217; den he come out an&#8217; got on de
+sorrel an&#8217; galloped off. Soon ez he got out o&#8217; sight, he pulled up,
+an&#8217; we walked along tell we come to de road whar leads off to&#8217;ds Mr.
+Barbour&#8217;s. He wuz de big lawyer o&#8217; de country. Dar he tu&#8217;ned off. All
+dis time he hedn&#8217; sed a wud, &#8217;cep&#8217; to kind o&#8217; mumble to hisse&#8217;f now
+an&#8217; den. When we got to Mr. Barbour&#8217;s, he got down an&#8217; went in. Dat
+wuz in de late winter; de folks wuz jes&#8217; beginnin&#8217; to plough fur corn.
+He stayed dyar &#8217;bout two hours, an&#8217; when he come out <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>Mr. Barbour come
+out to de gate wid &#8217;im an&#8217; shake han&#8217;s arfter he got up in de saddle.
+Den we all rode off. &#8217;Twuz late den&mdash;good dark; an&#8217; we rid ez hard ez
+we could, tell we come to de ole school-house at ole Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s gate. When we got dar Marse Chan got down an&#8217; walked
+right slow &#8217;roun&#8217; de house. Arfter lookin&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217; a little while an&#8217;
+tryin&#8217; de do&#8217; to see ef it wuz shet, he walked down de road tell he
+got to de creek. He stop&#8217; dyar a little while an&#8217; picked up two or
+three little rocks an&#8217; frowed &#8217;em in, an&#8217; pres&#8217;n&#8217;y he got up an&#8217; we
+come on home. Ez he got down, he tu&#8217;ned to me an&#8217;, rubbin&#8217; de sorrel&#8217;s
+nose, said: &#8216;Have &#8217;em well fed, Sam; I&#8217;ll want &#8217;em early in de
+mawnin&#8217;.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Dat night at supper he laugh an&#8217; talk, an&#8217; he set at de table a long
+time. Arfter ole marster went to bed, he went in de charmber an&#8217; set
+on de bed by &#8217;im talkin&#8217; to &#8217;im an&#8217; tellin&#8217; &#8217;im &#8217;bout de meetin&#8217; an&#8217;
+ev&#8217;ything; but he never mention ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s name. When he
+got up to come out to de office in de yard, whar he slept, he stooped
+down an&#8217; kissed &#8217;im jes&#8217; like he wuz a baby layin&#8217; dyar in de bed, an&#8217;
+he&#8217;d hardly let ole missis go at all. I knowed some&#8217;n wuz up, an&#8217; nex&#8217;
+mawnin&#8217; I called &#8217;im early befo&#8217; light, like he tole me, an&#8217; he
+dressed an&#8217; come out pres&#8217;n&#8217;y jes&#8217; like he wuz goin&#8217; to chu&#8217;ch. I had
+de hosses ready, an&#8217; we went out de back way to&#8217;ds de river. Ez we
+rode along, he said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Sam, you an&#8217; I wuz boys togedder, wa&#8217;n&#8217;t we?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;&#8216;Yes,&#8217; sez I, &#8216;Marse Chan, dat we wuz.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;You have been ve&#8217;y faithful to me,&#8217; sez he, &#8216;an&#8217; I have seen to it
+that you are well provided fur. You wan&#8217; to marry Judy, I know, an&#8217;
+you&#8217;ll be able to buy her ef you want to.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Den he tole me he wuz goin&#8217; to fight a duil, an&#8217; in case he should
+git shot, he had set me free an&#8217; giv&#8217; me nuff to tek keer o&#8217; me an&#8217; my
+wife ez long ez we lived. He said he&#8217;d like me to stay an&#8217; tek keer o&#8217;
+ole marster an&#8217; ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an&#8217; he said it
+wouldn&#8217; be very long, he reckoned. Dat wuz de on&#8217;y time he voice
+broke&mdash;when he said dat; an&#8217; I couldn&#8217; speak a wud, my th&#8217;oat choked
+me so.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When we come to de river, we tu&#8217;ned right up de bank, an&#8217; arfter
+ridin&#8217; &#8217;bout a mile or sich a matter, we stopped whar dey wuz a little
+clearin&#8217; wid elder bushes on one side an&#8217; two big gum trees on de
+udder, an&#8217; de sky wuz all red, an&#8217; de water down to&#8217;ds whar de sun wuz
+comin&#8217; wuz jes&#8217; like de sky.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Pres&#8217;n&#8217;y Mr. Gordon he come wid a &#8217;hogany box &#8217;bout so big &#8217;fore &#8217;im,
+an&#8217; he got down, an&#8217; Marse Chan tole me to tek all de hosses an&#8217; go
+&#8217;roun&#8217; behine de bushes whar I tell you &#8217;bout&mdash;off to one side; an&#8217;
+&#8217;fore I got &#8217;roun&#8217; dar, ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin an&#8217; Mr. Hennin an&#8217; Dr.
+Call come ridin&#8217; from tudder way, to&#8217;ds ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s. When
+dey hed tied dey hosses, de udder gent&#8217;mens went up to whar Mr. Gordon
+wuz, an&#8217; arfter some chattin&#8217; Mr. Hennin step&#8217; off &#8217;bout fur ez &#8217;cross
+dis road, or mebbe it mout be a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>little furder; an&#8217; den I seed &#8217;em
+th&#8217;oo de bushes loadin&#8217; de pistils, an&#8217; talk&#8217; a little while; an&#8217; den
+Marse Chan an&#8217; ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin walked up wid de pistils in dey
+han&#8217;s, an&#8217; Marse Chan he stood wid his face right to&#8217;ds de sun. I seen
+it shine on &#8217;im jes&#8217; ez it come up over de low groun&#8217;s, an&#8217; he look&#8217;
+like he did sometimes when he come out of chu&#8217;ch. I wuz so skeered I
+couldn&#8217; say nuthin&#8217;. Ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin could shoot fust rate, an&#8217;
+Marse Chan he never missed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Den I heahed Mr. Gordon say, &#8216;Gent&#8217;mens, is yo&#8217; ready?&#8217; and bofe of
+&#8217;em sez, &#8216;Ready,&#8217; jes&#8217; so.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; he sez, &#8216;Fire, one, two&#8217;&mdash;an&#8217; ez he said &#8216;one,&#8217; ole Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin raised he pistil an&#8217; shot right at Marse Chan. De ball went
+th&#8217;oo his hat. I seen he hat sort o&#8217; settle on he head ez de bullit
+hit it, an&#8217; <i>he</i> jes&#8217; tilted his pistil up in de a&#8217;r an&#8217; shot&mdash;<i>bang</i>;
+an&#8217; ez de pistil went <i>bang</i>, he sez to Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin, &#8216;I mek you a
+present to yo&#8217; fam&#8217;ly, seh!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, dey had some talkin&#8217; arfter dat. I didn&#8217; git rightly what it
+wuz; but it &#8217;peared like Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he warn&#8217;t satisfied, an&#8217;
+wanted to have anudder shot. De seconds dey wuz talkin&#8217;, an&#8217; pres&#8217;n&#8217;y
+dey put de pistils up, an&#8217; Marse Chan an&#8217; Mr. Gordon shook han&#8217;s wid
+Mr. Hennin an&#8217; Dr. Call, an&#8217; come an&#8217; got on dey hosses. An&#8217; Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin he got on his horse an&#8217; rode away wid de udder gent&#8217;mens,
+lookin&#8217; like he did de day befo&#8217; when all de people laughed at &#8217;im.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I b&#8217;lieve ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin wan&#8217; to shoot Marse Chan, anyway!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We come on home to breakfast, I totin&#8217; de box wid de pistils befo&#8217; me
+on the roan. Would you b&#8217;lieve me, seh, Marse Chan he nuvver said a
+wud &#8217;bout it to ole marster or nobody. Ole missis didn&#8217; fin&#8217; out &#8217;bout
+it for mo&#8217;n a month, an&#8217; den, Lawd! how she did cry and kiss Marse
+Chan; an&#8217; ole marster, aldo&#8217; he never say much, he wuz jes&#8217; ez please&#8217;
+ez ole missis. He call&#8217; me in de room an&#8217; made me tole &#8217;im all &#8217;bout
+it, an&#8217; when I got th&#8217;oo he gi&#8217; me five dollars an&#8217; a pyar of
+breeches.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin he nuvver did furgive Marse Chan, and Miss
+Anne she got mad too. Wimmens is mons&#8217;us onreasonable nohow. Dey&#8217;s
+jes&#8217; like a catfish: you cann&#8217; tek&#8217; hole on &#8217;em like udder folks, an&#8217;
+when you gits &#8217;em yo&#8217; can n&#8217; always hole &#8217;em.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What meks me think so? Heaps o&#8217; things&mdash;dis: Marse Chan he done gi&#8217;
+Miss Anne her pa jes&#8217; ez good ez I gi&#8217; Marse Chan&#8217;s dawg sweet
+&#8217;taters, an&#8217; she git mad wid &#8217;im ez if he hed kill &#8217;im &#8217;stid o&#8217;
+sen&#8217;in&#8217; &#8217;im back to her dat mawnin&#8217; whole an&#8217; soun&#8217;. B&#8217;lieve me! she
+wouldn&#8217; even speak to &#8217;im arfter dat!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217; I &#8217;member dat mawnin&#8217;!</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We wuz gwine fox-huntin&#8217;, &#8217;bout six weeks or sich a matter arfter de
+duil, an&#8217; we met Miss Anne ridin&#8217; &#8217;long wid anudder lady an&#8217; two
+gent&#8217;mens whar wuz stayin&#8217; at her house. Dyar wuz always <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>some one or
+nudder dyar co&#8217;ting her. Well, dat mawnin&#8217; we meet &#8217;em right in de
+road. &#8217;Twuz de fust time Marse Chan had see her sence de duil, an&#8217; he
+raises he hat ez he pahss, an&#8217; she looks right at &#8217;im wid her head up
+in de yair like she nuvver see &#8217;im befo&#8217; in her born days; an&#8217; when
+she comes by me, she sez, &#8216;Good-mawnin&#8217;, Sam!&#8217; Gord! I nuvver see
+nuthin&#8217; like de look dat come on Marse Chan&#8217;s face when she pahss &#8217;im
+like dat. He gi&#8217; de sorrel a pull dat fotch &#8217;im back settin&#8217; down in
+de san&#8217; on he hanches. He ve&#8217;y lips wuz white. I tried to keep up wid
+&#8217;im, but &#8217;twarn&#8217; no use. He sont me back home pres&#8217;n&#8217;y, an&#8217; he rid on.
+I sez to myself, &#8216;Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin, don&#8217; yo&#8217; meet Marse Chan dis
+mawnin&#8217;. He ain&#8217; bin lookin&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217; de ole school-house, whar he an&#8217;
+Miss Anne use&#8217; to go to school to ole Mr. Hall together, fur nuffin&#8217;.
+He won&#8217; stan&#8217; no prodjickin&#8217; to-day.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He nuvver come home dat night tell &#8217;way late, an&#8217; ef he&#8217;d been
+fox-huntin&#8217; it mus&#8217; ha&#8217; been de ole red whar lives down in de
+greenscum mashes he&#8217;d been chasin&#8217;. De way de sorrel wuz gormed up wid
+sweat an&#8217; mire sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did hu&#8217;t me. He walked up to de stable wid he
+head down all de way, an&#8217; I&#8217;se seen &#8217;im go eighty miles of a winter
+day, an&#8217; prance into de stable at night ez fresh ez ef he hed jes&#8217;
+cantered over to ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s to supper. I nuvver seen a
+hoss beat so sence I knowed de fetlock from de fo&#8217;lock, an&#8217; bad ez he
+wuz he wan&#8217; ez bad ez Marse Chan.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Whew! he didn&#8217; git over dat thing, seh&mdash;he nuvver did git over it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;De war come on jes&#8217; den, an&#8217; Marse Chan wuz elected cap&#8217;n; but he
+wouldn&#8217; tek it. He said Firginia hadn&#8217; seceded, an&#8217; he wuz gwine stan&#8217;
+by her. Den dey &#8217;lected Mr. Gordon cap&#8217;n.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did wan&#8217; Marse Chan to tek de place, cuz I knowed he wuz
+gwine tek me wid &#8217;im. He wan&#8217; gwine widout Sam. An&#8217; beside, he look so
+po&#8217; an&#8217; thin, I thought he wuz gwine die.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of co&#8217;se ole missis she heard &#8217;bout it, an&#8217; she met Miss Anne in de
+road, an&#8217; cut her jes&#8217; like Miss Anne cut Marse Chan.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ole missis, she wuz proud ez anybody! So we wuz mo&#8217; strangers dan ef
+we hadn&#8217; live&#8217; in a hunderd miles of each udder. An&#8217; Marse Chan he wuz
+gittin&#8217; thinner an&#8217; thinner, an&#8217; Firginia she come out, an&#8217; den Marse
+Chan he went to Richmond an&#8217; listed, an&#8217; come back an&#8217; sey he wuz a
+private, an&#8217; he didn&#8217; know whe&#8217;r he could tek me or not. He writ to
+Mr. Gordon, hows&#8217;ever, and &#8217;twuz decided that when he went I wuz to go
+&#8217;long an&#8217; wait on him, an&#8217; de cap&#8217;n too. I didn&#8217; min&#8217; dat, yo&#8217; know,
+long ez I could go wid Marse Chan, an&#8217; I like&#8217; Mr. Gordon, anyways.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, one night Marse Chan come back from de offis wid a telegram dat
+say, &#8216;Come at once,&#8217; so he wuz to start nex&#8217; mawnin&#8217;. He uniform wuz
+all ready, gray wid yaller trimmin&#8217;s, an&#8217; mine wuz ready too, an&#8217; he
+had ole marster&#8217;s sword, whar de State gi&#8217; &#8217;im in de Mexikin war; an&#8217;
+he trunks <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>wuz all packed wid ev&#8217;rything in &#8217;em, an&#8217; my chist wuz
+packed too, an&#8217; Jim Rasher he druv &#8217;em over to de depo&#8217; in de waggin,
+an&#8217; we wuz to start nex&#8217; mawnin&#8217; &#8217;bout light. Dis wuz &#8217;bout de las&#8217; o&#8217;
+spring, you know. Dat night ole missis made Marse Chan dress up in he
+uniform, an&#8217; he sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did look splendid wid he long mustache an&#8217; he
+wavin&#8217; hyar and he tall figger.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Arfter supper he come down an&#8217; sez: &#8216;Sam, I wan&#8217; you to tek dis note
+an&#8217; kyar it over to Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s, an&#8217; gi&#8217; it to Miss Anne wid
+yo&#8217; own han&#8217;s, an&#8217; bring me wud what she sez. Don&#8217; let any one know
+&#8217;bout it, or know why you&#8217;ve gone.&#8217; &#8216;Yes, seh,&#8217; sez I.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yo&#8217; see, I knowed Miss Anne&#8217;s maid over at ole Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s&mdash;dat wuz Judy whar is my wife now&mdash;an&#8217; I knowed I could
+wuk it. So I tuk de roan an&#8217; rid over, an&#8217; tied &#8217;im down de hill in de
+cedars, an&#8217; I wen&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217; to de back yard. &#8217;Twuz a right blowy sort o&#8217;
+night; de moon wuz jes&#8217; risin&#8217;, but de clouds wuz so big it didn&#8217;
+shine &#8217;cep&#8217; th&#8217;oo a crack now an&#8217; den. I soon foun&#8217; my gal, an&#8217; arfter
+tellin&#8217; her two or three lies &#8217;bout herse&#8217;f, I got her to go in an&#8217; ax
+Miss Anne to come to de do&#8217;. When she come, I gi&#8217; her de note, an&#8217;
+arfter a little while she bro&#8217;t me anudder, an&#8217; I tole her good-by,
+an&#8217; she gi&#8217; me a dollar, an&#8217; I come home an&#8217; gi&#8217; de letter to Marse
+Chan. He read it, an&#8217; tole me to have de hosses ready at twenty minits
+to twelve at de corner of de garden. An&#8217; jes&#8217; befo&#8217; dat he come out ez
+ef he wuz gwine to bed, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>but instid he come, an&#8217; we all struck out
+to&#8217;ds Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s. When we got mos&#8217; to de gate, de hosses got
+sort o&#8217; skeered, an&#8217; I see dey wuz some&#8217;n or somebody standin&#8217; jes&#8217;
+inside; an&#8217; Marse Chan he jumpt off de sorrel an&#8217; flung me de bridle
+and he walked up.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She spoke fust (&#8217;twuz Miss Anne had done come out dyar to meet Marse
+Chan), an&#8217; she sez, jes&#8217; ez cold ez a chill, &#8216;Well, seh, I granted
+your favor. I wished to relieve myse&#8217;f of de obligations you placed me
+under a few months ago, when you made me a present of my father, whom
+you fust insulted an&#8217; then prevented from gittin&#8217; satisfaction.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Marse Chan he didn&#8217; speak fur a minit, an&#8217; den he said: &#8216;Who is with
+you?&#8217; (Dat wuz ev&#8217;y wud.)</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;No one,&#8217; sez she; &#8216;I came alone.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;My God!&#8217; sez he, &#8217;you didn&#8217; come all through those woods by yourse&#8217;f
+at this time o&#8217; night?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Yes, I&#8217;m not afraid,&#8217; sez she. (An&#8217; heah dis nigger! I don&#8217; b&#8217;lieve
+she wuz.)</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;De moon come out, an&#8217; I cotch sight o&#8217; her stan&#8217;in&#8217; dyar in her white
+dress, wid de cloak she had wrapped herse&#8217;f up in drapped off on de
+groun&#8217;, an&#8217; she didn&#8217; look like she wuz &#8217;feared o&#8217; nuthin&#8217;. She wuz
+mons&#8217;us purty ez she stood dyar wid de green bushes behine her, an&#8217;
+she hed jes&#8217; a few flowers in her breas&#8217;&mdash;right hyah&mdash;and some leaves
+in her sorrel hyar; an&#8217; de moon come out an&#8217; shined down on her hyar
+an&#8217; her frock, an&#8217; &#8217;peared like <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>de light wuz jes&#8217; stan&#8217;in&#8217; off it ez
+she stood dyar lookin&#8217; at Marse Chan wid her head tho&#8217;d back, jes&#8217;
+like dat mawnin&#8217; when she pahss Marse Chan in de road widout speakin&#8217;
+to &#8217;im, an&#8217; sez to me, &#8216;Good mawnin&#8217;, Sam.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Marse Chan, he den tole her he hed come to say good-by to her, ez he
+wuz gwine &#8217;way to de war nex&#8217; mawnin&#8217;. I wuz watchin&#8217; on her, an&#8217; I
+tho&#8217;t when Marse Chan tole her dat, she sort o&#8217; started an&#8217; looked up
+at &#8217;im like she wuz mighty sorry, an&#8217; &#8217;peared like she didn&#8217; stan&#8217;
+quite so straight arfter dat. Den Marse Chan he went on talkin&#8217; right
+fars&#8217; to her; an&#8217; he tole her how he had loved her ever sence she wuz
+a little bit o&#8217; baby mos&#8217;, an&#8217; how he nuvver &#8217;membered de time when he
+hedn&#8217; &#8217;spected to marry her. He tole her it wuz his love for her dat
+hed made &#8217;im stan&#8217; fust at school an&#8217; collige, an&#8217; hed kep&#8217; &#8217;im good
+an&#8217; pure; an&#8217; now he wuz gwine &#8217;way, wouldn&#8217; she let it be like &#8217;twuz
+in ole times, an&#8217; ef he come back from de war wouldn&#8217; she try to t&#8217;ink
+on him ez she use&#8217; to do when she wuz a little guirl?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Marse Chan he had done been talkin&#8217; so serious, he hed done tuk Miss
+Anne&#8217;s han&#8217;, an&#8217; wuz lookin&#8217; down in her face like he wuz list&#8217;nin&#8217;
+wid his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Arfter a minit Miss Anne she said somethin&#8217;, an&#8217; Marse Chan he cotch
+her udder han&#8217; an&#8217; sez:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;But if you love me, Anne?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When he sed dat, she tu&#8217;ned her head &#8217;way <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>from &#8217;im, an&#8217; wait&#8217; a
+minit, an&#8217; den she sed&mdash;right clear:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;But I don&#8217; love yo&#8217;.&#8217; (Jes&#8217; dem th&#8217;ee wuds!) De wuds fall right
+slow&mdash;like dirt falls out a spade on a coffin when yo&#8217;s buryin&#8217;
+anybody an&#8217; seys, &#8216;Uth to uth.&#8217; Marse Chan he jes&#8217; let her hand drap,
+an&#8217; he stiddy hisse&#8217;f &#8217;g&#8217;inst de gate-pos&#8217;, an&#8217; he didn&#8217; speak
+toreckly. When he did speak, all he sez wuz:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;I mus&#8217; see you home safe.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I &#8217;clar, marster, I didn&#8217; know &#8217;twuz Marse Chan&#8217;s voice tell I look
+at &#8217;im right good. Well, she wouldn&#8217; let &#8217;im go wid her. She jes&#8217;
+wrap&#8217; her cloak &#8217;roun&#8217; her shoulders, an&#8217; wen&#8217; &#8217;long back by herse&#8217;f,
+widout doin&#8217; more&#8217;n jes&#8217; look up once at Marse Chan leanin&#8217; dyah
+&#8217;g&#8217;inst de gate-pos&#8217; in he sodger clo&#8217;es, wid he eyes on de groun&#8217;.
+She said &#8216;Good-by&#8217; sort o&#8217; sorf, an&#8217; Marse Chan, widout lookin&#8217; up,
+shake han&#8217;s wid her, an&#8217; she wuz done gone down de road. Soon ez she
+got &#8217;mos&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217; de curve, Marse Chan he followed her, keepin&#8217; under
+de trees so ez not to be seen, an&#8217; I led de hosses on down de road
+behine &#8217;im. He kep&#8217; &#8217;long behine her tell she wuz safe in de house,
+an&#8217; den he come an&#8217; got on he hoss, an&#8217; we all come home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nex&#8217; mawnin&#8217; we all come off to j&#8217;ine de army. An&#8217; dey wuz a-drillin&#8217;
+an&#8217; a-drillin&#8217; all &#8217;bout for a while an&#8217; dey went &#8217;long wid all de
+res&#8217; o&#8217; de army, an I went wid Marse Chan an&#8217; clean he boots, an&#8217; look
+arfter de tent, an&#8217; tek keer o&#8217; him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>an&#8217; de hosses. An&#8217; Marse Chan, he
+wan&#8217; a bit like he use&#8217; to be. He wuz so solum an&#8217; moanful all de
+time, at leas&#8217; &#8217;cep&#8217; when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight. Den he&#8217;d
+peartin&#8217; up, an&#8217; he alwuz rode at de head o&#8217; de company &#8217;cause he wuz
+tall; an&#8217; hit wan&#8217; on&#8217;y in battles whar all his company wuz dat <i>he</i>
+went, but he use&#8217; to volunteer whenever de cun&#8217;l wanted anybody to
+fine out anythin&#8217;, an&#8217; &#8217;twuz so dangersome he didn&#8217; like to mek one
+man go no sooner&#8217;n anudder, yo&#8217; know, an&#8217; ax&#8217;d who&#8217;d volunteer. <i>He</i>
+&#8217;peared to like to go prowlin&#8217; aroun&#8217; &#8217;mong dem Yankees, an&#8217; he use&#8217;
+to tek me wid &#8217;im whenever he could. Yes, seh, he sut&#8217;n&#8217;y wuz a good
+sodger! He didn&#8217; mine bullets no more&#8217;n he did so many draps o&#8217; rain.
+But I use&#8217; to be pow&#8217;ful skeered sometimes. It jes&#8217; use&#8217; to &#8217;pear like
+fun to &#8217;im. In camp he use&#8217; to be so sorrerful he&#8217;d hardly open he
+mouf. You&#8217;d &#8217;a&#8217; tho&#8217;t he wuz seekin&#8217;, he used to look so moanful; but
+jes&#8217; le&#8217; &#8217;im git into danger, an&#8217; he use&#8217; to be like ole times&mdash;jolly
+an&#8217; laughin&#8217; like when he wuz a boy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When Cap&#8217;n Gordon got he leg shot off, dey mek Marse Chan cap&#8217;n on de
+spot, &#8217;cause one o&#8217; de lieutenants got kilt de same day, an&#8217; tor&#8217;er
+one (named Mr. Ronny) wan&#8217; no &#8217;count, an&#8217; all de company sed Marse
+Chan wuz de man.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; Marse Chan he wuz jes&#8217; de same. He didn&#8217; never mention Miss
+Anne&#8217;s name, but I knowed he wuz thinkin&#8217; on her constant. One night
+he wuz settin&#8217; by de fire in camp, an&#8217; Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>Ronny&mdash;he wuz de secon&#8217;
+lieutenant&mdash;got to talkin&#8217; &#8217;bout ladies, an&#8217; he say all sorts o&#8217;
+things &#8217;bout &#8217;em, an&#8217; I see Marse Chan kinder lookin&#8217; mad; an&#8217; de
+lieutenant mention Miss Anne&#8217;s name. He hed been courtin&#8217; Miss Anne
+&#8217;bout de time Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an&#8217; Miss Anne hed
+kicked &#8217;im, dough he wuz mighty rich, &#8217;cause he warn&#8217; nuthin&#8217; but a
+half-strainer, an&#8217; &#8217;cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she
+didn&#8217; speak to &#8217;im; an&#8217; Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an&#8217; &#8217;cause Cun&#8217;l
+Chahmb&#8217;lin tole &#8217;im not to come dyah no more, he got mighty mad. An&#8217;
+dat evenin&#8217; I&#8217;se tellin&#8217; yo&#8217; &#8217;bout, he wuz talkin&#8217;, an&#8217; he mention&#8217;
+Miss Anne&#8217;s name. I see Marse Chan tu&#8217;n he eye &#8217;roun&#8217; on &#8217;im an&#8217; keep
+it on he face, an&#8217; pres&#8217;n&#8217;y Mr. Ronny said he wuz gwine hev some fun
+dyah yit. He didn&#8217; mention her name dat time; but he said dey wuz all
+on &#8217;em a parecel of stuck-up &#8217;risticrats, an&#8217; her pa wan&#8217; no gent&#8217;man
+anyway, and <i>she</i>&mdash;&mdash;I don&#8217; know what he wuz gwine say (he nuvver said
+it), fur ez he got dat far Marse Chan riz up an&#8217; hit &#8217;im a crack, an&#8217;
+he fall like he hed been hit wid a fence-rail. He challenged Marse
+Chan to fight a duil, an&#8217; Marse Chan he excepted de challenge, an&#8217; dey
+wuz gwine fight; but some on &#8217;em tole &#8217;im Marse Chan wan&#8217; gwine mek a
+present o&#8217; him to his fam&#8217;ly, an&#8217; he got somebody to bre&#8217;k up de duil;
+&#8217;twan&#8217; nuthin&#8217; dough, but he wuz &#8217;fred to fight Marse Chan. An&#8217; purty
+soon he lef&#8217; de comp&#8217;ny.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I got one o&#8217; de gent&#8217;mens to write Judy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>a letter for me, an&#8217; I
+tole her all &#8217;bout de fight, an&#8217; how Marse Chan knock Mr. Ronny over
+fur speakin&#8217; discontemptuous o&#8217; Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin, an&#8217; I tole her how
+Marse Chan wuz a-dyin&#8217; fur love o&#8217; Miss Anne. An&#8217; Judy she gits Miss
+Anne to read de letter fur her. Den Miss Anne she tells her pa,
+an&#8217;&mdash;you mind, Judy tells me all dis arfterwards, an&#8217; she say when
+Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin hear &#8217;bout it, he wuz settin&#8217; on de poach, an&#8217; he set
+still a good while, an&#8217; den he sey to hisse&#8217;f:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Well, he carn&#8217; he&#8217;p bein&#8217; a Whig.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; den he gits up an&#8217; walks up to Miss Anne an&#8217; looks at her right
+hard; an&#8217; Miss Anne she hed done tu&#8217;n away her head an&#8217; wuz makin&#8217; out
+she wuz fixin&#8217; a rose-bush &#8217;g&#8217;inst de poach; an&#8217; when her pa kep&#8217;
+lookin&#8217; at her, her face got jes&#8217; de color o&#8217; de roses on de bush, an&#8217;
+pres&#8217;n&#8217;y her pa sez:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Anne!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; she tu&#8217;ned &#8217;roun&#8217;, an&#8217; he sez:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Do yo&#8217; want &#8217;im?&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; she sez, &#8216;Yes,&#8217; an&#8217; put her head on he shoulder an&#8217; begin to cry;
+an&#8217; he sez:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Well, I won&#8217; stan&#8217; between yo&#8217; no longer. Write to &#8217;im an&#8217; say so.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We didn&#8217; know nuthin&#8217; &#8217;bout dis den. We wuz a-fightin&#8217; an&#8217; a-fightin&#8217;
+all dat time; an&#8217; come one day a letter to Marse Chan, an&#8217; I see &#8217;im
+start to read it in his tent, an&#8217; he face hit look so cu&#8217;ious, an&#8217; he
+han&#8217;s trembled so I couldn&#8217; mek out what wuz de matter wid &#8217;im. An&#8217; he
+fold&#8217; de letter up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>an&#8217; wen&#8217; out an&#8217; wen&#8217; &#8217;way down &#8217;hine de camp, an&#8217;
+stayed dyah &#8217;bout nigh an hour. Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for &#8217;im
+when he come back, an&#8217;, fo&#8217; Gord, ef he face didn&#8217; shine like a
+angel&#8217;s. I say to myse&#8217;f, &#8216;Um&#8217;m! ef de glory o&#8217; Gord ain&#8217; done shine
+on &#8217;im!&#8217; An&#8217; what yo&#8217; &#8217;spose &#8217;twuz?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He tuk me wid &#8217;im dat evenin&#8217;, an&#8217; he tell me he hed done git a
+letter from Miss Anne, an&#8217; Marse Chan he eyes look like gre&#8217;t big
+stars, an&#8217; he face wuz jes&#8217; like &#8217;twuz dat mawnin&#8217; when de sun riz up
+over de low groun&#8217;s, an&#8217; I see &#8217;im stan&#8217;in&#8217; dyah wid de pistil in he
+han&#8217;, lookin&#8217; at it, an&#8217; not knowin&#8217; but what it mout be de lars&#8217;
+time, an&#8217; he done mek up he mine not to shoot ole Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin fur
+Miss Anne&#8217;s sake, what writ &#8217;im de letter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He fold&#8217; de letter wha&#8217; was in his han&#8217; up, an&#8217; put it in he inside
+pocket&mdash;right dyar on de lef&#8217; side; an&#8217; den he tole me he tho&#8217;t mebbe
+we wuz gwine hev some warm wuk in de nex&#8217; two or th&#8217;ee days, an arfter
+dat ef Gord speared &#8217;im he&#8217;d git a leave o&#8217; absence fur a few days,
+an&#8217; we&#8217;d go home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, dat night de orders come, an&#8217; we all hed to git over to&#8217;ds
+Romney; an&#8217; we rid all night till &#8217;bout light; an&#8217; we halted right on
+a little creek, an&#8217; we stayed dyah till mos&#8217; breakfas&#8217; time, an&#8217; I see
+Marse Chan set down on de groun&#8217; &#8217;hine a bush an&#8217; read dat letter over
+an&#8217; over. I watch &#8217;im, an&#8217; de battle wuz a-goin&#8217; on, but we hed orders
+to stay &#8217;hine de hill, an&#8217; ev&#8217;y now an&#8217; den de bullets <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>would cut de
+limbs o&#8217; de trees right over us, an&#8217; one o&#8217; dem big shells what goes
+&#8216;<i>Awhar&mdash;awhar&mdash;awhar!</i>&#8217; would fall right &#8217;mong us; but Marse Chan he
+didn&#8217; mine it no mo&#8217;n nuthin&#8217;! Den it &#8217;peared to git closer an&#8217;
+thicker, an&#8217; Marse Chan he calls me, an&#8217; I crep&#8217; up, an&#8217; he sez:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Sam, we&#8217;se goin&#8217; to win in dis battle, an&#8217; den we&#8217;ll go home an&#8217; git
+married; an&#8217; I&#8217;se goin&#8217; home wid a star on my collar.&#8217; An&#8217; den he sez,
+&#8216;Ef I&#8217;m wounded, kyar me home, yo&#8217; hear?&#8217; An&#8217; I sez, &#8216;Yes, Marse
+Chan.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, jes&#8217; den dey blowed boots an&#8217; saddles an&#8217; we mounted; an&#8217; de
+orders come to ride &#8217;roun&#8217; de slope, an&#8217; Marse Chan&#8217;s company wuz de
+secon&#8217;; an&#8217; when we got &#8217;roun&#8217; dyah, we wuz right in it. Hit wuz de
+wust place ever dis nigger got in. An&#8217; dey said, &#8216;Charge &#8217;em!&#8217; an&#8217; my
+king! ef ever you see bullets fly, dey did dat day. Hit wuz jes&#8217; like
+hail; an&#8217; we wen&#8217; down de slope (I long wid de res&#8217;) an&#8217; up de hill
+right to&#8217;ds de cannons, an&#8217; de fire wuz so strong dyar (dey hed a
+whole rigiment o&#8217; infintrys layin&#8217; down dyar onder de cannons) our
+lines sort o&#8217; broke an&#8217; stop; de cun&#8217;l was kilt, an&#8217; I b&#8217;lieve dey wuz
+jes&#8217; &#8217;bout to bre&#8217;k all to pieces, when Marse Chan rid up an&#8217; cotch
+hol&#8217; de fleg an&#8217; hollers, &#8216;Foller me!&#8217; an&#8217; rid strainin&#8217; up de hill
+&#8217;mong de cannons. I seen &#8217;im when he went, de sorrel four good lengths
+ahead o&#8217; ev&#8217;y udder hoss, jes&#8217; like he use&#8217; to be in a fox-hunt, an&#8217;
+de whole rigiment right arfter &#8217;im. Yo&#8217; ain&#8217; nuvver hear thunder! Fust
+thing I knowed, de roan roll&#8217; head <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>over heels an&#8217; flung me up &#8217;g&#8217;inst
+de bank, like yo&#8217; chuck a nubbin over &#8217;g&#8217;inst de foot o&#8217; de corn pile.
+An&#8217; dat&#8217;s what kep&#8217; me from bein&#8217; kilt, I &#8217;specks. Judy she say she
+think &#8217;twuz Providence, but I think &#8217;twuz de bank. Of co&#8217;se,
+Providence put de bank dyar, but how come Providence nuvver saved
+Marse Chan! When I look&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217;, de roan wuz layin&#8217; dyah by me, stone
+dead, wid a cannon-ball gone &#8217;mos&#8217; th&#8217;oo him, an&#8217; our men hed done
+swep&#8217; dem on t&#8217; udder side from de top o&#8217; de hill. &#8217;Twan&#8217; mo&#8217;n a minit,
+de sorrel come gallupin&#8217; back wid his mane flyin&#8217;, an&#8217; de rein hangin&#8217;
+down on one side to his knee. &#8216;Dyar!&#8217; says I, &#8216;fo&#8217; Gord! I &#8217;specks dey
+done kill Marse Chan, an&#8217; I promised to tek care on him.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I jumped up an&#8217; run over de bank, an&#8217; dyar wid a whole lot o&#8217; dead
+men, an&#8217; some not dead yit, onder one o&#8217; de guns wid de fleg still in
+he han&#8217;, an&#8217; a bullet right th&#8217;oo he body, lay Marse Chan. I tu&#8217;n&#8217; &#8217;im
+over an&#8217; call &#8217;im &#8216;Marse Chan!&#8217; but &#8217;twan&#8217; no use, he wuz done gone
+home, sho&#8217; &#8217;nuff. I pick&#8217; &#8217;im up in my arms wid de fleg still in he
+han&#8217;s, an&#8217; toted &#8217;im back jes&#8217; like I did dat day when he wuz a baby,
+an&#8217; ole marster gin &#8217;im to me in my arms, an&#8217; sez he could trus&#8217; me,
+an&#8217; tell me to tek keer on &#8217;im long ez he lived. I kyar&#8217;d &#8217;im &#8217;way off
+de battlefiel&#8217; out de way o&#8217; de balls, an&#8217; I laid &#8217;im down onder a big
+tree tell I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me. He wuz
+cotched arfter awhile, an&#8217; I hed some money, so I got some pine plank
+an&#8217; made a coffin dat evenin&#8217;, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>an&#8217; wrapt Marse Chan&#8217;s body up in de
+fleg, an&#8217; put &#8217;im in de coffin; but I didn&#8217; nail de top on strong,
+&#8217;cause I knowed ole missis wan&#8217; see &#8217;im; an&#8217; I got a&#8217; ambulance an&#8217;
+set out for home dat night. We reached dyar de nex&#8217; evenin&#8217;, arfter
+travellin&#8217; all dat night an&#8217; all nex&#8217; day.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hit &#8217;peared like somethin&#8217; hed tole ole missis we wuz comin&#8217; so; for
+when we got home she wuz waitin&#8217; for us&mdash;done drest up in her best
+Sunday-clo&#8217;es, an&#8217; stan&#8217;in&#8217; at de head o&#8217; de big steps, an&#8217; ole
+marster settin&#8217; in his big cheer&mdash;ez we druv up de hill to&#8217;ds de
+house, I drivin&#8217; de ambulance an&#8217; de sorrel leadin&#8217; &#8217;long behine wid
+de stirrups crost over de saddle.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She come down to de gate to meet us. We took de coffin out de
+ambulance an&#8217; kyar&#8217;d it right into de big parlor wid de pictures in
+it, whar dey use&#8217; to dance in ole times when Marse Chan wuz a
+school-boy, an&#8217; Miss Anne Chahmb&#8217;lin use&#8217; to come over, an&#8217; go wid ole
+missis into her chamber an&#8217; tek her things off. In dyar we laid de
+coffin on two o&#8217; de cheers, an&#8217; ole missis nuvver said a wud; she jes&#8217;
+looked so ole an&#8217; white.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When I had tell &#8217;em all &#8217;bout it, I tu&#8217;ned right &#8217;roun&#8217; an&#8217; rid over
+to Cun&#8217;l Chahmb&#8217;lin&#8217;s, &#8217;cause I knowed dat wuz what Marse Chan he&#8217;d
+&#8217;a&#8217; wanted me to do. I didn&#8217; tell nobody whar I wuz gwine, &#8217;cause yo&#8217;
+know none on &#8217;em hadn&#8217; nuvver speak to Miss Anne, not sence de duil,
+an&#8217; dey didn&#8217; know &#8217;bout de letter.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When I rid up in de yard, dyar wuz Miss Anne <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>a-stan&#8217;in&#8217; on de poach
+watchin&#8217; me ez I rid up. I tied my hoss to de fence, an&#8217; walked up de
+parf. She knowed by de way I walked dyar wuz somethin&#8217; de motter, an&#8217;
+she wuz mighty pale. I drapt my cap down on de een&#8217; o&#8217; de steps an&#8217;
+went up. She nuvver opened her mouf; jes&#8217; stan&#8217; right still an&#8217; keep
+her eyes on my face. Fust, I couldn&#8217; speak; den I cotch my voice, an&#8217;
+I say, &#8216;Marse Chan, he done got he furlough.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Her face was mighty ashy, an&#8217; she sort o&#8217; shook, but she didn&#8217; fall.
+She tu&#8217;ned roun&#8217; an&#8217; said, &#8216;Git me de ker&#8217;ige!&#8217; Dat wuz all.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When de ker&#8217;ige come &#8217;roun&#8217;, she hed put on her bonnet, an&#8217; wuz
+ready. Ez she got in, she sey to me, &#8216;Hev yo&#8217; brought him home?&#8217; an&#8217;
+we drove &#8217;long, I ridin&#8217; behine.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When we got home, she got out, an&#8217; walked up de big walk&mdash;up to de
+poach by herse&#8217;f. Ole missis hed done fin&#8217; de letter in Marse Chan&#8217;s
+pocket, wid de love in it, while I wuz &#8217;way, an&#8217; she wuz a-waitin&#8217; on
+de poach. Dey sey dat wuz de fust time ole missis cry when she find de
+letter, an&#8217; dat she sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did cry over it, pintedly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, seh, Miss Anne she walks right up de steps, mos&#8217; up to ole
+missis stan&#8217;in&#8217; dyar on de poach, an&#8217; jes&#8217; falls right down mos&#8217; to
+her, on her knees fust, an&#8217; den flat on her face right on de flo&#8217;,
+ketchin&#8217; at ole missis&#8217; dress wid her two han&#8217;s&mdash;so.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ole missis stood for &#8217;bout a minit lookin&#8217; down at her, an&#8217; den she
+drapt down on de flo&#8217; by her, an&#8217; took her in bofe her arms.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I couldn&#8217; see, I wuz cryin&#8217; so myse&#8217;f, an&#8217; ev&#8217;ybody wuz cryin&#8217;. But
+dey went in arfter a while in de parlor, an&#8217; shet de do&#8217;; an&#8217; I hyard
+&#8217;em say, Miss Anne she tuk de coffin in her arms an&#8217; kissed it, an&#8217;
+kissed Marse Chan, an&#8217; call &#8217;im by his name, an&#8217; her darlin&#8217;, an&#8217; ole
+missis lef&#8217; her cryin&#8217; in dyar tell some on &#8217;em went in, an&#8217; found her
+done faint on de flo&#8217;.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Judy (she&#8217;s my wife) she tell me she heah Miss Anne when she axed ole
+missis mout she wear mo&#8217;nin&#8217; fur &#8217;im. I don&#8217; know how dat is; but when
+we buried &#8217;im nex&#8217; day, she wuz de one whar walked arfter de coffin,
+holdin&#8217; ole marster, an&#8217; ole missis she walked next to &#8217;em.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, we buried Marse Chan dyar in de ole grabeyard, wid de fleg
+wrapped roun&#8217; &#8217;im, an&#8217; he face lookin&#8217; like it did dat mawnin&#8217; down in
+de low groun&#8217;s, wid de new sun shinin&#8217; on it so peaceful.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Miss Anne she nuvver went home arfter dat; she stay wid ole marster
+an&#8217; ole missis ez long ez dey lived. Dat warn&#8217; so mighty long, &#8217;cause
+ole marster he died dat fall, when dey wuz fallerin&#8217; fur wheat&mdash;I had
+jes&#8217; married Judy den&mdash;an&#8217; ole missis she warn&#8217; long behine him. We
+buried her by him next summer. Miss Anne she went in de hospitals
+toreckly arfter ole missis died; an&#8217; jes&#8217; fo&#8217; Richmond fell she come
+home sick wid de fever. Yo&#8217; nuvver would &#8217;a&#8217; knowed her fur de same
+ole Miss Anne. She wuz light ez a piece o&#8217; peth, an&#8217; so white, &#8217;cep&#8217;
+her eyes an&#8217; her sorrel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>hyar, an&#8217; she kep&#8217; on gittin&#8217; whiter an&#8217;
+weaker. Judy she sut&#8217;n&#8217;y did nuss her faithful. But she nuvver got no
+betterment! De fever an&#8217; Marse Chan&#8217;s bein&#8217; kilt hed done strain her,
+an&#8217; she died jes&#8217; &#8217;fo&#8217; de folks wuz sot free.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So we buried Miss Anne right by Marse Chan, in a place whar ole
+missis hed tole us to leave, an&#8217; dey&#8217;s bofe on &#8217;em sleep side by side
+over in de ole grabeyard at home.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;An&#8217; will yo&#8217; please tell me, marster? Dey tells me dat de Bible sey
+dyar won&#8217; be marryin&#8217; nor givin&#8217; in marriage in heaven, but I don&#8217;
+b&#8217;lieve it signifies dat&mdash;does yo&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>I gave him the comfort of my earnest belief in some other
+interpretation, together with several spare &#8220;eighteen-pences,&#8221; as he
+called them, for which he seemed humbly grateful. And as I rode away I
+heard him calling across the fence to his wife, who was standing in
+the door of a small whitewashed cabin, near which we had been standing
+for some time:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Judy, have Marse Chan&#8217;s dawg got home?&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MR_BIXBYS_CHRISTMAS_VISITOR" id="MR_BIXBYS_CHRISTMAS_VISITOR"></a>MR. BIXBY&#8217;S CHRISTMAS VISITOR.</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Charles S. Gage.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8258; <i>Appleton&#8217;s Journal, December 30, 1871.</i></p>
+
+<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">A</span>t the head of the first flight of stairs, and on opposite sides of
+the landing, were the respective rooms of Mr. Bixby and Mr. Bangs. The
+house in which they lived stood in a quiet and retired street on the
+lower and western side of New York, a locality which was once
+inhabited by fashionable families, afterward by old-fashioned
+families, and at the time of our story by the keepers of
+boarding-houses for single men.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Henry Bixby and Mr. Alfred Bangs were single men&mdash;Mr. Bangs, the
+wine-merchant, because he liked wine and song so well that he never
+had leisure to think of women, because he was fat, because he was red
+in the face, and, if more reasons are necessary, because his fingers
+were chubby and short. For twenty years, day by day, Mr. Bangs had
+been absorbed in business. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>For twenty years, night after night, it
+had been his custom to entertain his friends at his apartment in not a
+very quiet way. He was so happy, and bulbous, and jolly, that he had
+never thought of marriage. Yet he might easily have been mistaken by
+the casual observer for a family man. He wore a white vest when it
+wasn&#8217;t too cold; his linen was painfully plain. There was not a sign
+of jewelry about him. He wore low shoes, which he tied with a ribbon.
+This was Mr. Bangs.</p>
+
+<p>Not quite so old in years as the opposite lodger was Mr. Bixby, known
+to his few friends as a genial philosopher and poet, to the public as
+the literary critic of one of the great daily papers. He might have
+been thirty-five years of age, but, as he had lived more for others
+than for himself, as he had made a study and not a pleasure of life,
+his gray eyes and the other features of his face suggested to whoever
+met him a longer past. There was something about him that caused men
+to wonder, not what he was, but what he had been.</p>
+
+<p>For ten years Mr. Bangs and Mr. Bixby had been inmates of the house
+together. Mr. Bangs had been there longer. The present landlady had
+received as a legacy from her predecessor, who did not care to take
+him away, Mr. Bangs. As she said, she made a present of Bangs.</p>
+
+<p>Long as they had known each other, the two lodgers were only
+acquaintances. Sometimes, on a Sunday afternoon, they would walk out
+in company, stroll down to the Battery, and there smoke <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>their cigars
+and watch the ships, but beyond this point of sociability, which
+neither enjoyed, there was nothing more. Never had Bixby read Bangs
+any poem he had made, nor did ever Bangs invite Bixby to meet his
+convivial friends of an evening to play whist or to partake of his
+mulled ale. In fact, Mr. Bixby had been often and with great
+enthusiasm voted an unsocial fellow by the cronies of Mr. Bangs, but
+he rose somewhat in their estimation when they were informed that he
+had consented to exchange rooms with their host.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He isn&#8217;t such a grouty fellow, after all,&#8221; said Bangs. &#8220;I told him
+that we were too near the street, and that some one had been
+complaining to the landlady of our singing. He didn&#8217;t even stop to
+think, but agreed to do it at once. He thought the light would be
+better here. Now, fellows, I call that doing the fair thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And the speech of Mr. Bangs was applauded.</p>
+
+<p>It was the morning of the day before Christmas that the change was
+effected. In the closet where had been the bottles, the decanters,
+glasses, and pickle-jars of the late occupant, Mr. Bixby had arranged
+shelves, and filled them with his books. Over the mantel, from which
+Mr. Bangs had taken away a colored print of a bull-dog in an overcoat,
+Mr. Bixby hung a fine engraving of the Madonna, and on the mantel
+itself he had placed his clock. It was a small French clock under a
+crystal, so that its rapidly-swinging pendulum could be easily seen.
+All bachelors, however negligent of their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>surroundings, have some one
+hobby among articles of furniture. It may be an easy-chair, or a
+book-case, or a chandelier&mdash;there is one thing that must be the best
+of its kind. There could be no doubt, from the care with which Mr.
+Bixby placed his clock in its position, and from time to time compared
+it with his watch, that this was his hobby. It had the three
+requisites which he demanded in a clock. It kept correct time without
+failing, its pendulum swung rapidly, and was plainly visible. Time
+past was the happiness of Mr. Bixby, and this clock told him
+continually that all was being done that could be done to induce the
+hours of every day to go over to the majority. He depended upon this
+clock. He was surer of its mechanism than of that of his own heart.</p>
+
+<p>What with hanging his pictures and arranging his furniture, and with
+many other little things which had to be done, Mr. Bixby was busily
+employed all day. But the task was not an unpleasant one. His heart
+was in the work, for there was hardly an object in the room not nearly
+associated with some event in his past life. After carefully brushing
+the dust from an old writing-desk, which had evidently once belonged
+to a lady, he placed it upon the rug in front of the fire. Only on
+Christmas-eves was this desk opened.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is curious,&#8221; thought Mr. Bixby, &#8220;that I should have moved this
+day, of all days in the year!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Often in his work he thought of stopping to take <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>from the desk an old
+packet of letters, and reading them once more. But it was not yet
+time, and, moreover, he was continually interrupted. First, there came
+some one to his door with &#8220;Two dozen Congress-water for Mr. Bangs;&#8221;
+then one with &#8220;Mr. Bangs&#8217;s boots,&#8221; and another to tell Mr. Bangs that
+&#8220;the pup was big enough to take away.&#8221; Finally, came Bangs himself, to
+complain of like interruptions, and to bid him good-by.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here is some manuscript a boy left for you. You will have to attend
+both doors now. I am off to spend Christmas. We are going to have a
+Tom-and-Jerry party in Jersey. You know&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8220;&#8216;The Tom-and-Jerry days have come, the happiest in the year!&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good rendering, eh? That isn&#8217;t all:</p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8220;&#8216;I only wish to live till the juleps come again!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Bangs laughed uproariously, even after he had said, &#8220;Good-by,&#8221;
+and shut the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What a personification of Bacchus!&#8221; thought Mr. Bixby&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8220;&#8216;Ever laughing, ever young.&#8217;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He will be young as long as he lives, but I am afraid that won&#8217;t be
+long. If ever there was a man in immediate danger of apoplexy, Bangs
+is that man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was after dinner when Mr. Bixby lighted his drop-light and sat down
+before the fire. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>pushed an ottoman in front of him, on which to
+rest his feet, which he had comfortably encased in his slippers. But
+the shadows in his new room did not please him. He could hardly see
+the clock on the mantel. The Madonna above was completely in the
+shade. So he lighted the chandelier above and sat down again, hoping
+that no friend, either of his own or of Mr. Bangs, would interrupt
+him. The desk was open at his feet. The package of letters lay near
+him on the table. He placed his hand upon them, but let it rest there.
+The hour had not quite arrived when he would read them. He fell again
+into the reveries of the day. He lingered over the thoughts of his
+better life ere he opened the packet which told of its end. For the
+last ten years he had labored without ambition, and had been
+successful. His name was well known as a journalist, and his salary
+was ample. Before that time he had striven ambitiously, but
+fruitlessly, patiently, but as in a quicksand, until, on a day, he had
+none to strive for but himself, and then success had come. Since noon,
+seven hours and twenty-nine minutes, said the clock before him. His
+anniversary was near. Mr. Bixby drew the letters near him, and untied
+the package. Just then there came a knock at his door, and, before he
+had determined whether or not he should say, &#8220;Come in,&#8221; the door
+opened, and an elderly gentleman stepped into the apartment. Quietly
+he came in. There was no sound attending his entrance except the
+knock. Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>Bixby, looking up, saw a man of more than ordinary height,
+with countenance rigid and puritanical in expression, as though the
+mind which had formed it was one influenced more by justice than
+mercy. His eyes were concealed by a pair of colored spectacles, but
+these, as they caught and reflected the light, were brighter and more
+startling than any eyes could have been. He was dressed in a long
+surtout, which he wore closely buttoned, high dickey, and high
+black-silk stock, which covered his throat to his chin. His iron-gray
+hair was brushed somewhat pompously backward over his forehead, and
+his whole effect was that of a gentleman of the generation which wore
+bell-crowned hats and carried enormous canes with tassels. But what
+attracted Mr. Bixby&#8217;s particular attention were the wrinkles of his
+face. These were in all places where wrinkles should not be. One ran
+straight through the centre of his forehead, continuing the line of
+the nose upward to the hair. Two others, starting from the bridge of
+the nose, ran diagonally down to the nostrils. He was close-shaven,
+and his lips were straight and thin. These peculiarities of his
+visitor Mr. Bixby had barely time to mark when the gentleman said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah, Mr. Bangs, I am glad to find you in!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bixby never in his life more desired to be alone, and yet there
+was something in this old man which so attracted him that he could not
+correct his mistake. He felt a sudden fascination and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>desire to know
+more of him. Bangs was away and could not be seen. The gentleman could
+not be very well acquainted with Bangs, very probably never had seen
+him, or he would not have made such an error. But nothing but the
+influence which seemed to proceed from his visitor could have induced
+Mr. Bixby to answer as he did.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, sir. Pray, take this chair.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>As he said this, he arose and wheeled an easy-chair to the other side
+of the table.</p>
+
+<p>The elderly gentleman sat down.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have a very cheerful apartment here, Mr. Bangs.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I always like to be comfortable.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course,&#8221; said the elderly gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will you remove your overcoat, sir?&#8221; asked Mr. Bixby, and immediately
+repented it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no, I shall stop but a moment.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was an interval of silence. A block of coal broke open in the
+grate and fell apart. A jet of gas burst forth and burned, then
+sputtered and went out. Mr. Bixby wondered on what business he had
+come, and why he did not open the subject at once, if he was only
+intending to stop a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is very disagreeable weather out,&#8221; said the man with the pompous
+forelock, interrupting his reflections.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Snowing?&#8221; asked Bixby.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No&mdash;sleet.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very unpleasant to have far to go such a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>night,&#8221; suggested Bixby,
+who could think of nothing better to say.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not at all,&#8221; responded the old gentleman, authoritatively.</p>
+
+<p>Bixby was silent again.</p>
+
+<p>The old gentleman, leaning with his elbow on the table, began again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You like to live well, Mr. Bangs?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I try to,&#8221; answered Mr. Bixby.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This must be some relative of Bangs come to deliver him a lecture on
+his course of life. Why don&#8217;t he broach his advice at once?&#8221; thought
+Mr. Bixby. The visitor here pulled a glove from his right hand, ran
+his fingers through his hair, and then, in a more business-like tone,
+spoke again:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Although a stranger to you personally, Mr. Bangs, I have always taken
+a great interest in your family. Mr. Bangs, I knew your father.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Indeed! I never heard him speak&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I dare say; it was near the end of his life. I was near by, and
+rendered him some assistance, when he died suddenly of apoplexy. He
+was not so much of a man as your grandfather.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Was he not?&#8221; asked Mr. Bixby, musingly. He was thinking how old the
+grandfather of his friend Bangs must have been.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; continued the elderly gentleman; &#8220;but even his judgment I never
+considered equal to that of your great-grandfather.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here is, indeed, a friend&mdash;a friend of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>family. Why is Mr. Bangs
+away?&#8221; thought Mr. Bixby, and he bent his head a little, and looked
+under the drop-light, to get a view of his visitor. He saw only the
+reflection on his spectacles, and drew back suddenly, for fear of
+being detected.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You like a good song, I have heard, Mr. Bangs,&#8221; came from the other
+side of the table. &#8220;Have you any favorite?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bixby did not understand this at all. The question puzzled him.
+Should he as Bangs fall in the estimation of some relative if he
+admitted the fact? Or did his visitor intend to sing? However, he felt
+compelled to be frank, so he said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes; I like a good song. Some of the Scotch ballads please me
+most. There is &#8216;The Land o&#8217; the Leal.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A very fine song, sir. A very fine song. It is a credit to any man to
+like that song.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The old gentleman was excited. Mr. Bixby was just congratulating
+himself on having given Bangs a lift, when his thoughts were turned
+into an altogether new channel by the following remark:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was my impression, however, that your taste ran rather in the way
+of drinking-songs. I should have thought now you would have said, &#8216;The
+Coal-Black Wine.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was something in the tone with which this was uttered that made
+Mr. Bixby shudder. It ran through his mind that this man was some
+enemy of Bangs&mdash;that he was dangerous. Startled by this sudden
+suspicion, tremblingly he again peered <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>under the shade. The wrinkle
+in the line of the frontal suture was more deeply indented. The light
+on the spectacles was brighter than ever.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Bangs, I called on your opposite neighbor, Mr. Bixby, to-night. I
+knocked on the door, but he was away.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Mr. Bixby, somewhat confused. He wished that Bangs had
+stayed at home, and determined to end the interview as soon as
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes. I am sorry. I had a positive appointment with him. I am a great
+friend of his.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Does he know you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, no; we have never met personally that he remembers. I am an old
+friend of the family. He suffers from the heart-disease, and has been
+expecting me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, you are a physician?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, sir. I attended his father at his last illness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bixby&#8217;s heart began to beat rapidly. His mind became equally
+active, and, although he had no experience to be guided by, he began
+to suspect the nature of this man&#8217;s business with Bangs. He almost
+determined to discover himself, but the letters were yet unread. If
+that were only done, he would do anything his visitor might request.
+Recalling the old gentleman&#8217;s last words, he said, at last, calmly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And his mother?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, and his mother.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>The old man&#8217;s voice assumed almost a kindly tone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He is, indeed, a friend of my family,&#8221; thought Mr. Bixby; and then he
+started, for fear he might have spoken aloud.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes fell upon the packet of letters. He must read them. He must
+end the interview. The old doctor must have noticed Mr. Bixby&#8217;s eyes,
+with the tears rising in them, as he tenderly touched the letters one
+by one, for it was with a voice very gentle and low that he spoke
+again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I attended once a very dear friend of his. It must be quite ten years
+ago now. Her name was Margaret. I think she loved him, for I
+remember&mdash;yes&mdash;it was one Christmas-eve, she said, and after that she
+said no more, &#8216;Has Harry come?&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Bixby could bear no more. His sobs were striving for utterance.
+His fingers grasped the strong oak arms of his chair. It was only the
+thought of the letters which gave him strength to say:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I am sorry, sir. You mistake me. I must ask you to leave me. You may
+come again. I shall be here, but I have something I would do to-night.
+I have given you much of my time. It is already late.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is you who mistake, Mr. Bangs. But I am going now. I said I would
+stop but a moment. I have kept my promise, as you will see by your
+clock.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Before his hands fell listless from the arms of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>the chair&mdash;before his
+lips parted, but not for speech&mdash;ay, just before that quick, strong
+pain in his heart, Mr. Bixby saw on the white dial the black hands yet
+pointing to the seven hours and the twenty-nine minutes, the pendulum
+moveless, still, half-way on the upward journey of the arc.</p>
+
+<p>The elderly gentleman arose, walked round the table, and smiled,
+himself, as he saw a smile of perfected happiness on the face of the
+dead, when so lately sorrow itself had been pictured on the face of
+the living.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It was hard to deceive him, but he will thank me now,&#8221; said he of the
+gray locks and wrinkled visage. &#8220;And here are the letters which he
+does not need.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Had the old man no more appointments to keep? For he took up one of
+the letters and opened it. A lock of golden hair fell unnoticed to the
+floor. Then he read silently, and, after a while, aloud:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>&#8220;I hope you will come and see me on Christmas-eve, for I am
+not well. I long for you more than I can say. You must be
+tired with your struggle in the great city, and need rest. O
+Harry! come and comfort her that loves you, as you well
+know.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span style="margin-right: 2em;">&#8221;<span class="smcap">Margaret.</span>&#8221;</span></p></div>
+
+<p>The bells of Trinity commenced ringing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He was tired, and he needed rest,&#8221; said Death.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ELI" id="ELI"></a>ELI.</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By C. H. White.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8258; <i>Century Magazine, November, 1881.</i></p>
+
+<h3>I.</h3>
+
+<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">U</span>nder a boat, high and dry, at low tide, on the beach, John Wood was
+seated in the sand, sheltered from the sun in the boat&#8217;s shadow,
+absorbed in the laying on of verdigris. The dull, worn color was
+rapidly giving place to a brilliant, shining green. Occasionally a
+scraper, which lay by, was taken up to remove the last trace of a
+barnacle.</p>
+
+<p>It was Wood&#8217;s boat, but he was not a boatman; he painted cleverly, but
+he was not a painter. He kept the brown store under the elms of the
+main street, now hot and still, where at this moment his blushing
+sister was captivating the heart of an awkward farmer&#8217;s boy, as she
+sold him a pair of striped suspenders.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p><p>As the church-clock struck the last of twelve decided blows, three
+children came rushing out of the house on the bank above the beach. It
+was one of those deceptive New England cottages, weather-worn without,
+but bright and bountifully home-like within&mdash;with its trim parlor,
+proud of a cabinet organ; with its front hall, now cooled by the light
+sea-breeze drifting through the blind-door, where a tall clock issued
+its monotonous call to a siesta on the rattan lounge; with its spare
+room, open now, opposite the parlor, and now, too, drawing in the salt
+air through close-shut blinds, in anticipation of the joyful arrival
+this evening of Sister Sarah, with her little brood, from the city.</p>
+
+<p>The children scampered across the road, and then the eldest hushed the
+others and sent a little brother ahead to steal, barefoot, along the
+shining sea-weed to his father.</p>
+
+<p>The plotted surprise appeared to succeed completely. The painter was
+seized by the ears from behind, and captured.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Guess who&#8217;s here, or you can&#8217;t get up,&#8221; said the infant captor.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s Napoleon Bonaparte; don&#8217;t joggle,&#8221; said his father, running a
+brush steadily along the water-line.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No! no! no!&#8221; with shouts of laughter from the whole attacking party.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then it&#8217;s Captain Ezekiel?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This excited great merriment: Captain Ezekiel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>was an aged, purblind
+man, who leaned on a cane.</p>
+
+<p>After attempts to identify the invader&mdash;with the tax-collector come
+for taxes, then with the elderly minister making a pastoral call, with
+the formal schoolmaster, and with Samuel J. Tilden&mdash;the victim reached
+over his shoulder, and, seizing the assailant by a handful of calico
+jacket, brought him around, squirming, before him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I&#8217;ll give you a coat of verdigris.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>(Great applause from the reserve force behind.)</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose Mother sent you to say dinner&#8217;s ready,&#8221; said the father,
+rising and surveying the green bottom of the boat. &#8220;I must eat quick,
+so as to do the other side before half-flood.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And with a child on each shoulder, and the third pushing him from
+behind with her head, he marched toward the vine-covered kitchen,
+where, between two opposite netted doors, the table was trimly set.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Father, you look like a mermaid, with your green hands,&#8221; said his
+wife, laughing, as she handed him the spirits of turpentine. &#8220;A woman
+could paint that boat, in a light dress, and not get a spot on her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled good-naturedly: he never spoke much.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I guess Louise won&#8217;t have much trade to-day,&#8221; said his wife, as they
+all sat down; &#8220;it&#8217;s so hot in the sun that everybody&#8217;ll wait till
+night. But <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>she has her tatting-work to do, and she&#8217;s got a book, too,
+that she wanted to finish.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Her husband nodded, and ate away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, can&#8217;t we go up street and see her, this afternoon?&#8221; said one of
+the children.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Who can that be?&#8221; said the mother, as an elderly,
+half-official-looking man stopped his horse at the front gate and
+alighted. The man left the horse unchecked to browse by the road-side,
+and came to the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it&#8217;s you, Captain Nourse,&#8221; said Wood, rising to open the netting
+door, and holding out his hand. &#8220;Come to summons me as a witness in
+something about the bank case, I suppose. Let me introduce Captain
+Nourse, Mary,&#8221; he said, &#8220;deputy sheriff. Sit down, Captain, and have
+some dinner with us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No, I guess I won&#8217;t set,&#8221; said the captain. &#8220;I cal&#8217;lated not to eat
+till I got home, in the middle o&#8217; the arternoon. No, I&#8217;ll set down in
+eye-shot of the mare, and read the paper while you eat.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I hope they don&#8217;t want me to testify anywhere to-day,&#8221; said Wood;
+&#8220;because my boat&#8217;s half verdigris&#8217;d, and I want to finish her this
+afternoon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No testimony to-day,&#8221; said the captain. &#8220;Hi! hi! Kitty!&#8221; he called to
+the mare, as she began to meander across the road; and he went out to
+a tree by the front fence, and sat down on a green bench, beside a
+work-basket and a half-finished child&#8217;s dress, and read the country
+paper which he had taken from the office as he came along.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p><p>After dinner Wood went out bare-headed, and leaned on the fence by the
+captain. His wife stood just inside the door, looking out at them.</p>
+
+<p>The &#8220;bank case&#8221; was the great sensation of the town, and Wood was one
+of the main witnesses, for he had been taking the place of the absent
+cashier when the safe was broken open and rifled, to the widespread
+distress of depositors and stock-holders and the ruin of Hon. Edward
+Clark, the president. Wood had locked the safe on the afternoon before
+the eventful night, and had carried home the key with him, and he was
+to testify to the contents of the safe as he had left it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I guess they&#8217;re glad they&#8217;ve got such a witness as John,&#8221; said his
+wife to herself, as she looked at him fondly, &#8220;and I guess they think
+there won&#8217;t be much doubt about what he says.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, Captain,&#8221; said Wood, jocosely, breaking a spear of grass to
+bits in his fingers, &#8220;I didn&#8217;t know but you&#8217;d come to arrest me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The captain calmly smiled as only a man can smile who has been
+accosted with the same humorous remark a dozen times a day for twenty
+years. He folded his paper carefully, put it in his pocket, took off
+his spectacles and put them in their silver case, took a red silk
+handkerchief from his hat, wiped his face, and put the handkerchief
+back. Then he said, shortly:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s what I <i>have</i> come for.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Wood, still leaning on the fence, looked at him, and said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s just what I&#8217;ve come for,&#8221; said Captain <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>Nourse. &#8220;I&#8217;ve got to
+arrest you; here&#8217;s the warrant.&#8221; And he handed it to him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What does this mean?&#8221; said Wood. &#8220;I can&#8217;t make head nor tail of
+this.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; said the captain, &#8220;the long and short is: these high-toned
+detectives that they&#8217;ve had down from town, seein&#8217; as our own force
+wasn&#8217;t good enough, allow that the safe was unlocked with a key, in
+due form, and then the lock was broke afterward, to look as if it had
+been forced open. They&#8217;ve had the foreman of the safe-men down, too,
+and he says the same thing. Naturally, the argument is: there were
+only two keys in existence; one was safe with the president of the
+bank, and is about all he&#8217;s got to show out of forty years&#8217; savings;
+the only other one you had: consequently it heaves it on to you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I see,&#8221; said Wood. &#8220;I will go with you. Do you want to come into the
+house with me while I get my coat?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, I suppose I must keep you in sight&mdash;now, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And they went into the house.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mary,&#8221; said her husband, &#8220;the folks that lost by Clark when the bank
+broke have been at him until he&#8217;s felt obliged to pitch on somebody,
+and he&#8217;s pitched on me; and Captain Nourse has come to arrest me. I
+shall get bail before long.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She said nothing, and did not shed a tear till he was gone.</p>
+
+<p>But then&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p><h3>II.</h3>
+
+<p>Wide wastes of salt marsh to the right, imprisoning the upland with a
+vain promise of infinite liberty, and, between low, distant
+sand-hills, a rim of sea. Stretches of pine woods behind, shutting in
+from the great outer world, and soon to darken into evening gloom.
+Ploughed fields and elm-dotted pastures to the left, and birch-lined
+roads leading by white farm-houses to the village, all speaking of
+cheer and freedom to the prosperous and the happy, but to the
+unfortunate and the indebted, of meshes invisible but strong as steel.
+But, before, no lonesome marshes, no desolate forest, no farm or
+village street, but the free blue ocean, rolling and tumbling still
+from the force of an expended gale.</p>
+
+<p>In the open door-way of a little cottage, warmed by the soft slanting
+rays of the September sun, a rough man, burnt and freckled, was
+sitting, at his feet a net, engaged upon some handiwork which two
+little girls were watching. Close by him lay a setter, his nose
+between his paws. Occasionally the man raised his eyes to scan the
+sea.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s Joel,&#8221; he said, &#8220;comin&#8217; in around the Bar. Not much air
+stirrin&#8217; now!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned to his work again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;First, you go <i>so</i> fash&#8217;,&#8221; he said to the children, as he drew a
+thread; &#8220;then you go <i>so</i> fash&#8217;.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p><p>And as he worked he made a great show of labor, much to their
+diversion.</p>
+
+<p>But the sight of Joel&#8217;s broad white sail had not brought pleasant
+thoughts to his mind. For Joel had hailed him, off the Shoal, the
+afternoon before, and had obligingly offered to buy his fish, right
+there, and so let him go directly home, omitting to mention that
+sudden jump of price due to an empty market.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Wonder what poor man he&#8217;s took a dollar out of to-day! Well, I s&#8217;pose
+it&#8217;s all right: those that&#8217;s got money, want money.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What be you, Eli&mdash;ganging on hooks?&#8221; said Aunt Patience, as she
+tip-toed into the kitchen behind him, from his wife&#8217;s sick-room, and
+softly closed the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; said the elder of the children; &#8220;he&#8217;s mending our stockings, and
+showing me how.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you do have a hard time, don&#8217;t you?&#8221; said Aunt Patience,
+looking down over his shoulder; &#8220;to slave and tug and scrape to get a
+house over your head, and then to have to turn square &#8217;round, and stay
+to home with a sick woman, and eat all into it with mortgages!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, well,&#8221; he said, &#8220;we&#8217;ll fetch, somehow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Patience went to the glass, and holding a black pin in her mouth,
+carefully tied the strings of her sun-bonnet.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Anyway,&#8221; she says, &#8220;you take it good-natured. Though if there is one
+thing that&#8217;s harder than another, it is to be good-natured all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>the
+time, without being aggravating. I have known men that was so awfully
+good-natured that they was harder to live with than if they was
+cross!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And without specifying further, she opened her plaid parasol, and
+stepped out at the porch.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>Though, on this quiet afternoon of Saturday, the peace of the
+approaching Sabbath seemed already brooding over the little dwelling,
+peace had not lent her hand to the building of the home. Every foot of
+land, every shingle, every nail, had been wrung from the reluctant
+sea. Every voyage had contributed something. It was a great day when
+Eli was able to buy the land. Then, between two voyages, he dug a
+cellar and laid a foundation; then he saved enough to build the main
+part of the cottage and to finish the front room, lending his own hand
+to the work. Then he used to get letters at every port, telling of
+progress&mdash;how Lizzie, his wife, had adorned the front room with a
+bright nine-penny paper, of which a little piece was inclosed, which
+he kept as a sort of charm about him and exhibited to his friends; how
+she and her little brother had lathed the entry and the kitchen, and
+how they had set out blackberry vines from the woods. Then another
+letter told of a surprise awaiting him on his return; and, in due
+time, coming home as third mate from Hong Kong to a seaman&#8217;s
+tumultuous welcome, he had found that a great, good-natured mason,
+with whose sick <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>child his wife had watched, night after night, had
+appeared one day with lime and hair and sand, and in white raiment,
+and had plastered the entry and the kitchen, and finished a room
+upstairs.</p>
+
+<p>And so, for years, at home and on the sea, at New York, and at
+Valparaiso, and in the Straits of Malacca, the little house and the
+little family within it had grown into the fibre of Eli&#8217;s heart.
+Nothing had given him more delight than to meet, in the strange
+streets of Calcutta or before the Mosque of Omar, some practical
+Yankee from Stonington or Machias, and, whittling, to discuss with
+him, among the turbans of the Orient, the comparative value of shaved
+and of sawed shingles, or the economy of &#8220;Swedes-iron&#8221; nails, and to
+go over with him the estimates and plans which he had worked out in
+his head under all the constellations of the skies.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>The supper things were cleared away. The children had said good-night
+and gone to bed, and Eli had been sitting for an hour by his wife&#8217;s
+bedside. He had had to tax his patience and ingenuity heavily during
+the long months that she had lain there to entertain her for a little
+while in the evening, after his hard, wet day&#8217;s work. He had been
+talking now of the coming week, when he was to serve upon the jury in
+the adjoining county-town.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I cal&#8217;late I can come home about every night,&#8221; he said, &#8220;and it&#8217;ll be
+quite a change, at any rate.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But you don&#8217;t seem so cheerful about it as I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>counted you would be,&#8221;
+said his wife. &#8220;Are you afraid you&#8217;ll have to be on the bank-case?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Not much!&#8221; he answered. &#8220;No trouble &#8217;n that case! Jury won&#8217;t leave
+their seats. These city fellers&#8217;ll find they&#8217;ve bit off more&#8217;n they
+can chew when they try to figure out John Wood done that. I only hope
+I&#8217;ll have the luck to be on that case&mdash;all hands on the jury whisper
+together a minute, and then clear him, right on the spot, and then
+shake hands with him all &#8217;round!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But something is worrying you,&#8221; she said. &#8220;What is it? You have
+looked it since noon.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, nothin&#8217;,&#8221; he replied&mdash;&#8220;only George Cahoon came up to-noon to say
+that he was goin&#8217; West next week, and that he would have to have that
+money he let me have a while ago. And where to get it&mdash;I don&#8217;t know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<h3>III.</h3>
+
+<p>The court-room was packed. John Wood&#8217;s trial was drawing to its close.
+Eli was on the jury. Some one had advised the prosecuting attorney, in
+a whisper, to challenge him, but he had shaken his head and said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I couldn&#8217;t afford to challenge him for that; it would only leak
+out, and set the jury against me. I&#8217;ll risk his standing out against
+this evidence.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The trial had been short. It had been shown how <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>the little building
+of the bank had been entered. Skilled locksmiths from the city had
+testified that the safe was opened with a key, and that the lock was
+broken afterward, from the inside&mdash;plainly to raise the theory of a
+forcible entry by strangers.</p>
+
+<p>It had been proved that the only key in existence, not counting that
+kept by the president, was in the possession of Wood, who was filling,
+for a few days, the place of the cashier&mdash;the president&#8217;s brother&mdash;in
+his absence. It had been shown that Wood was met, at one o&#8217;clock of
+the night in question, crossing the fields toward his home, from the
+direction of the bank, with a large wicker basket slung over his
+shoulders, returning, as he had said, from eel-spearing in Harlow&#8217;s
+Creek; and there was other circumstantial evidence.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark, the president of the bank, had won the sympathy of every
+one by the modest way in which, with eye-glasses in hand, he had
+testified to the particulars of the loss which had left him penniless,
+and had ruined others whose little all was in his hands. And then, in
+reply to the formal question, he had testified, amid roars of laughter
+from the court-room, that it was not he who robbed the safe. At this,
+even the judge and Wood&#8217;s lawyer had not restrained a smile.</p>
+
+<p>This had left the guilt with Wood. His lawyer, an inexperienced young
+attorney&mdash;who had done more or less business for the bank, and would
+hardly have ventured to defend this case but that the president had
+kindly expressed his entire willingness <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>that he should do so&mdash;had, of
+course, not thought it worthwhile to cross-examine Mr. Clark, and had
+directed his whole argument against the theory that the safe had been
+opened with a key, and not by strangers. But he had felt all through
+that, as a man politely remarked to him when he finished, he was only
+butting his &#8220;head ag&#8217;in a stone wall.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And while he was arguing, a jolly-looking old lawyer had written, in
+the fly-leaf of a law-book on his knee, and passed with a wink to a
+young man near him who had that very morning been admitted to the bar,
+these lines:</p>
+
+<div class="bbox centerbox2"><p>&#8220;When callow Blackstones soar too high,<br />
+Quit common-sense, and reckless fly,<br />
+Soon, Icarus-like, they headlong fall,<br />
+And down come client, case, and all.&#8221;</p></div>
+
+<p>The district-attorney had not thought it worth while to expend much
+strength upon his closing argument; but being a jovial stump-speaker,
+of a wide reputation within narrow limits, he had not been able to
+refrain from making merry over Wood&#8217;s statement that the basket which
+he had been seen bearing home, on the eventful night, was a basket of
+eels.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Fine eels those, gentlemen! We have seen gold-fish and silver-fish,
+but golden eels are first discovered by this defendant. The apostle,
+in Holy Writ, caught a fish with a coin in its mouth; but this man
+leaves the apostle in the dim distance <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>when he finds eels that are
+all money. No storied fisherman of Bagdad, catching enchanted princes
+disguised as fishes in the sea, ever hooked such a treasure as this
+defendant hooked when he hooked that basket of eels! [Rustling
+appreciation of the pun among the jury.] If a squirming, twisting,
+winding, wriggling eel, gentlemen, can be said at any given moment to
+have a back, we may distinguish this new-found species as the
+green-back eel. It is a common saying that no man can hold an eel and
+remain a Christian. I should like to have viewed the pious equanimity
+of this church-member when he laid his hands on that whole bed of
+eels. In happy, barefoot boyhood, gentlemen, we used to find
+mud-turtles marked with initials or devices cut in their shells; but
+what must have been our friend&#8217;s surprise to find, in the muddy bed of
+Harlow&#8217;s Creek, eels marked with a steel-engraving of the landing of
+Columbus, and the signature of the Register of the Treasury! I hear
+that a corporation is now being formed by the title of The Harlow&#8217;s
+Creek Greenback National Bank-bill Eel-fishing Company, to follow up,
+with seines and spears, our worthy friend&#8217;s discovery! I learn that
+the news of this rich placer has spread to the golden mountains of the
+West, and that the exhausted intellects which have been reduced to
+such names for their mines as &#8216;The Tombstone,&#8217; &#8216;The Red Dog,&#8217; the
+&#8216;Mrs. E. J. Parkhurst,&#8217; are likely now to flood us with prospectuses
+of the &#8216;Eel Mine,&#8217; &#8216;The Flat Eel,&#8217; &#8216;The Double Eel,&#8217; and then, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>when
+they get ready to burst upon confiding friends, &#8216;The Consolidated
+Eels.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It takes but little to make a school or a court-room laugh, and the
+speech had appeared to give a good deal of amusement to the listeners.</p>
+
+<p>To all?</p>
+
+<p>Did it amuse that man who sat, with folded arms, harsh and rigid, at
+the dock? Did it divert that white-faced woman, cowering in a corner,
+listening as in a dream?</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>The judge now charged the jury briefly. It was unnecessary for him, he
+said, to recapitulate evidence of so simple a character. The chief
+question for the jury was as to the credibility of the witnesses. If
+the witnesses for the prosecution were truthful and were not mistaken,
+the inference of guilt seemed inevitable; this the defendant&#8217;s counsel
+had conceded. The defendant had proved a good reputation; upon that
+point there was only this to be said: that, while such evidence was
+entitled to weight, yet, on the other hand, crimes involving a breach
+of trust could, from their very nature, be committed only by persons
+whose good reputations secured them positions of trust.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>The jury-room had evidently not been furnished by a ring. There was a
+long table for debate, twelve hard chairs for repose, twelve spittoons
+for luxury, and a clock.</p>
+
+<p>The jury sat in silence for a few moments, as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>old Captain Nourse, who
+had them in his keeping, and eyed them as if he was afraid that he
+might lose one of them in a crack and be held accountable on his bond,
+rattled away at the unruly lock. Looking at them then, you would have
+seen faces all of a New England cast but one. There was a tall,
+powerful negro called George Washington, a man well known in this
+county town, to which he had come, as driftwood from the storm of war,
+in &#8217;65. Some of the &#8220;boys&#8221; had heard him, in a great prayer-meeting in
+Washington&mdash;a city which he always spoke of as his &#8220;namesake&#8221;&mdash;at the
+time of the great review, say, in his strong voice, with that pathetic
+quaver in it: &#8220;Like as de parched an&#8217; weary traveller hangs his harp
+upon de winder, an&#8217; sighs for oysters in de desert, so I longs to res&#8217;
+my soul an&#8217; my foot in Mass&#8217;chusetts;&#8221; and they were so delighted with
+him that they invited him on the spot to go home with them, and took
+up a collection to pay his fare, and so he was a public character. As
+for his occupation&mdash;when the census-taker, with a wink to the boys in
+the store, had asked him what it was, he had said, in that same odd
+tone: &#8220;Putties up glass a little&mdash;white-washes a little&mdash;&#8221; and, when
+the man had made a show of writing all that down, &#8220;preaches a little.&#8221;
+He might have said &#8220;preaches a big,&#8221; for you could hear him half a
+mile away.</p>
+
+<p>The foreman was a retired sea-captain. &#8220;Good cap&#8217;n&mdash;Cap&#8217;n Thomas,&#8221; one
+of his neighbors had said of him. &#8220;Allers gits good ships&mdash;never hez
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>to go huntin&#8217; &#8217;round for a vessel. But it is astonishin&#8217; what
+differences they is! Now there&#8217;s Cap&#8217;n A. K. P. Bassett, down to the
+West Harbor. You let it git &#8217;round that Cap&#8217;n A. K. P. is goin&#8217; off on
+a Chiny voyage, and you&#8217;ll see half a dozen old shays to onct, hitched
+all along his fence of an arternoon, and wimmen inside the house, to
+git Cap&#8217;n A. K. P. to take their boys. But you let Cap&#8217;n Thomas give
+out that he wants boys, and he hez to glean &#8217;em&mdash;from the poor-house,
+and from step-mothers, and where he can: the wimmen knows! Still,&#8221; he
+added, &#8220;Cap&#8217;n Thomas&#8217;s a good cap&#8217;n. I&#8217;ve nothin&#8217; to say ag&#8217;in him.
+He&#8217;s smart!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>&#8220;Gentlemen,&#8221; said the foreman, when the officer, at last, had securely
+locked them in, &#8220;shall we go through the formality of a ballot? If the
+case were a less serious one, we might have rendered a verdict in our
+seats.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s the use foolin&#8217; &#8217;round ballotin&#8217;?&#8221; said a thick-set butcher.
+&#8220;Ain&#8217;t we all o&#8217; one mind?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is for you to say, gentlemen,&#8221; said the foreman. &#8220;I shouldn&#8217;t want
+to have it go abroad that we had not acted formally, if there was any
+one disposed to cavil.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Speaker,&#8221; said George Washington, rising and standing in the
+attitude of Webster, &#8220;I rises to appoint to order. We took ballast in
+de prior cases, and why make flesh of one man an&#8217; a fowl of another?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; said the foreman, a trifle sharply. &#8220;&#8216;The longest way
+round is the shortest way home.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Twelve slips of paper were handed out, to be indorsed guilty, &#8220;for
+form.&#8221; They were collected in a hat and the foreman told them
+over&mdash;&#8220;just for form.&#8221; &#8220;&#8216;Guilty,&#8217; &#8216;guilty,&#8217; &#8216;guilty,&#8217; &#8216;guilty&#8217;;&mdash;wait
+a minute,&#8221; he said, &#8220;here is a mistake. Here is one &#8216;not
+guilty&#8217;&mdash;whose is this?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whose is it?&#8221; said the foreman, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>Eli turned a little red.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s mine,&#8221; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you mean it?&#8221; said the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I mean it,&#8221; he answered.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whew!&#8221; whistled the foreman. &#8220;Very well, sir; we&#8217;ll have an
+understanding, then. This case is proved to the satisfaction of every
+man who heard it, I may safely say, but one. Will that one please
+state the grounds of his opinion?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I ain&#8217;t no talker,&#8221; said Eli, &#8220;but I ain&#8217;t satisfied he&#8217;s
+guilty&mdash;that&#8217;s all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you believe the witnesses?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mostly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Which one don&#8217;t you believe?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can&#8217;t say. I don&#8217;t believe he&#8217;s guilty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is there one that you think lied?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>No answer.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now it seems to me&mdash;&mdash;&#8221; said a third juryman.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;One thing at a time, gentlemen,&#8221; said the foreman. &#8220;Let us wait for
+an answer from Mr. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>Smith. Is there any one that you think lied? We
+will wait, gentlemen, for an answer.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a long pause. The trial seemed to Eli Smith to have shifted
+from the court to this shabby room, and he was now the culprit.</p>
+
+<p>All waited for him; all eyes were fixed upon him.</p>
+
+<p>The clock ticked loud! Eli counted the seconds. He knew the
+determination of the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>The silence became intense.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I want to say my say,&#8221; said a short man in a pea-jacket&mdash;a retired
+San Francisco pilot, named Eldridge. &#8220;I entertain no doubt the man is
+guilty. At the same time, I allow for differences of opinion. I don&#8217;t
+know this man that&#8217;s voted &#8216;not guilty,&#8217; but he seems to be a
+well-meaning man. I don&#8217;t know his reasons; probably he don&#8217;t
+understand the case. I should like to have the foreman tell the
+evidence over, so as if he don&#8217;t see it clear, he can ask questions,
+and we can explain.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I second de motion,&#8221; said George Washington.</p>
+
+<p>There was a general rustle of approval.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I move it,&#8221; said the pilot, encouraged.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well, Mr. Eldridge,&#8221; said the foreman. &#8220;If there is no
+objection, I will state the evidence, and if there is any loop-hole, I
+will trouble Mr. Smith to suggest it as I go along,&#8221; and he proceeded
+to give a summary of the testimony, with homely force.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, sir?&#8221; he said, when he had finished.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I move for another ballot,&#8221; said Mr. Eldridge.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p><p>The result was the same. Eli had voted &#8220;not guilty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Smith,&#8221; said the foreman, &#8220;this must be settled in some way. This
+is no child&#8217;s play. You can&#8217;t keep eleven men here, trifling with
+them, giving no pretence of a reason.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I haven&#8217;t any reasons, only that I don&#8217;t believe he&#8217;s guilty,&#8221; said
+Eli. &#8220;I&#8217;m not goin&#8217; to vote a man into states-prison, when I don&#8217;t
+believe he done it,&#8221; and he rose and walked to the window, and looked
+out. It was low tide. There was a broad stretch of mud in the
+distance, covered with boats lying over disconsolate. A driving storm
+had emptied the streets. He beat upon the rain-dashed glass a moment
+with his fingers, and then he sat down again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, sir,&#8221; said the foreman, &#8220;this is singular conduct. What do you
+propose to do?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Silence.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I suppose you realize that the rest of us are pretty rapidly forming
+a conclusion on this matter,&#8221; said the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Come! come!&#8221; said Mr. Eldridge; &#8220;don&#8217;t be quite so hard on him,
+Captain. Now, Mr. Smith,&#8221; he said, standing up with his hands in his
+coat-pockets, and looking at Eli, &#8220;we know that there often is crooked
+sticks on juries, that hold out alone&mdash;that&#8217;s to be expected; but they
+always argue, and stand to it the rest are fools, and all that. Now,
+all is, we don&#8217;t see why you don&#8217;t sort of argue, if you&#8217;ve got
+reasons satisfactory to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>you. Come, now,&#8221; he added, walking up to Eli,
+and resting one foot on the seat of his chair, &#8220;why don&#8217;t you tell it
+over? and if we&#8217;re wrong, I&#8217;m ready to join you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Eli looked up at him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t you ever know,&#8221; he said, &#8220;of a man&#8217;s takin&#8217; a cat off, to
+lose, that his little girl didn&#8217;t want drownded, and leavin&#8217; him
+ashore, twenty or thirty miles, bee-line, from home, and that cat&#8217;s
+bein&#8217; back again the next day, purrin&#8217; &#8217;round &#8217;s if nothin&#8217; had
+happened?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Mr. Eldridge&mdash;&#8220;knew of just such a case.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Very well,&#8221; said Eli; &#8220;how does he find his way home?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t know,&#8221; said Mr. Eldridge; &#8220;always has been a standing mystery
+to me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; said Eli, &#8220;mark my words. There&#8217;s such a thing as arguin&#8217;, and
+there&#8217;s such a thing as knowin&#8217; outright; and when you&#8217;ll tell me how
+that cat inquires his way home, I&#8217;ll tell you how I know John Wood
+ain&#8217;t guilty.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This made a certain sensation, and Eli&#8217;s stock went up.</p>
+
+<p>An old, withered man rapped on the table.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s so!&#8221; he said; &#8220;and there&#8217;s other sing&#8217;lar things! How is it
+that a sea-farin&#8217; man, that&#8217;s dyin&#8217; to home, will allers die on the
+ebb-tide? It never fails, but how does it happen? Tell me that! And
+there&#8217;s more ways than one of knowin&#8217; things, too!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I know that man ain&#8217;t guilty,&#8221; said Eli.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Hark ye!&#8221; said a dark old man with a troubled face, rising and
+pointing his finger toward Eli. &#8220;<i>Know</i>, you say? I <i>knew</i>, wunst. I
+<i>knew</i> that my girl, my only child, was good. One night she went off
+with a married man that worked in my store, and stole my money&mdash;and
+where is she now?&#8221; And then he added, &#8220;What I <i>know</i> is, that every
+man hes his price. I hev mine, and you hev yourn!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The impugnment of Eli&#8217;s motives was evident to all.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Xcuse me, Mr. Speaker,&#8221; said George Washington, rising with his hand
+in his bosom; &#8220;as de question is befo&#8217; us, I wish to say that de las&#8217;
+bro&#8217; mus&#8217; have spoken under &#8217;xcitement. Every man <i>don&#8217;</i> have his
+price! An&#8217; I hope de bro&#8217; will recant&mdash;like as de Psalmist goes out o&#8217;
+his way to say &#8216;<i>In my haste</i> I said, All men are liars.&#8217; He was a
+very busy man, de Psalmist&mdash;writin&#8217; down hymns all day, sharpen&#8217;n&#8217; his
+lead-pencil, bossin&#8217; &#8217;roun&#8217; de choir&mdash;callin&#8217; Selah! Well, bro&#8217;n an&#8217;
+sisters&#8221;&mdash;both arms going out, and his voice going up&mdash;&#8220;one day, seems
+like, he was in gre&#8217;t haste&mdash;got to finish a psalm for a monthly
+concert, or such&mdash;and some man incorrupted him, and lied; and bein&#8217; in
+gre&#8217;t haste&mdash;and a little old Adam in him&mdash;he says, right off, quick:
+&#8216;<i>All</i> men are liars!&#8217; But see&mdash;when he gets a little time to set back
+and meditate, he says: &#8216;Dis won&#8217; do&mdash;dere&#8217;s Moses, an&#8217; Job, an&#8217;
+Paul&mdash;dey ain&#8217;t liars!&#8217; An&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>den he don&#8217; sneak out, and &#8217;low he said,
+&#8216;All men is lions,&#8217; or such. No! de Psalmist ain&#8217;t no such man; but he
+owns up, an&#8217; &#8217;xplains: &#8216;<i>In my haste</i>,&#8217; he says, &#8216;I said it.&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The foreman rose and rapped.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I await a motion,&#8221; said he, &#8220;if our friend will allow me the
+privilege of speaking.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Washington calmly bowed.</p>
+
+<p>Then the foreman, when nobody seemed disposed to move, speaking
+slowly, at first, and piece-meal, alternating language with smoke,
+gradually edged into the current of the evidence, and ended by going
+all over it again, with fresh force and point. His cigar glowed and
+chilled in the darkening room as he talked.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; he said, when he had drawn all the threads together to the
+point of guilt, &#8220;what are we going to do upon this evidence?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you something,&#8221; said Eli. &#8220;I didn&#8217;t want to say it because
+I know what you&#8217;ll all think, but I&#8217;ll tell you, all the same.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah!&#8221; said the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>Eli stood up and faced the others.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8217;Most all o&#8217; you know what our Bar is in a south-east gale. They
+ain&#8217;t a man here that &#8217;uld dare to try and cross it when the sea&#8217;s
+breakin&#8217; on it. The man that says he would, lies!&#8221; And he looked at
+the foreman, and waited a moment.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;When my wife took sick, and I stopped goin&#8217; to sea, two year ago, and
+took up boat-fishin&#8217;, I didn&#8217;t know half as much about the coast as
+the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>young boys do, and one afternoon it was blowin&#8217; a gale, and we
+was all hands comin&#8217; in, and passin&#8217; along the Bar to go sheer &#8217;round
+it to the west&#8217;ard, and Captain Fred Cook&mdash;he&#8217;s short-sighted&mdash;got on
+to the Bar before he knew it, and then he had to go ahead, whether or
+no; and I was right after him, and I s&#8217;posed he knew, and I followed
+him. Well, he was floated over, as luck was, all right; but when I&#8217;d
+just got on the Bar, a roller dropped back and let my bowsprit down
+into the sand, and then come up quicker&#8217;n lightnin&#8217; and shouldered the
+boat over, t&#8217;other end first, and slung me into the water; and when I
+come up, I see somethin&#8217; black, and there was John Wood&#8217;s boat runnin&#8217;
+by me before the wind with a rush&mdash;and &#8217;fore I knew an&#8217;thing he had me
+by the hair by one hand and in his boat, and we was over the Bar. Now,
+I tell you, a man that looks the way I saw him look when I come over
+the gunwale, face up, don&#8217;t go &#8217;round breakin&#8217; in and hookin&#8217; things.
+He hadn&#8217;t one chance in five, and he was a married man, too, with
+small children. And what&#8217;s more,&#8221; he added, incautiously, &#8220;he didn&#8217;t
+stop there. When he found out, this last spring, that I was goin&#8217; to
+lose my place, he lent me money enough to pay the interest that was
+overdue on the mortgage, of his own acord.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And he stopped suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have certainly explained yourself,&#8221; said the foreman. &#8220;I think we
+understand you distinctly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;There isn&#8217;t one word of truth in that idea,&#8221; said Eli, flushing up,
+&#8220;and you know it. I&#8217;ve paid him back every cent. I know him better&#8217;n
+any of you, that&#8217;s all, and when I know he ain&#8217;t guilty, I won&#8217;t say
+he is; and I can set here as long as any other man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lively times some folks&#8217;ll hev, when they go home,&#8221; said a spare
+tin-peddler, stroking his long yellow goatee. &#8220;Go into the store:
+nobody speak to you; go to cattle-show: everybody follow you &#8217;round;
+go to the wharf: nobody weigh your fish; go to buy seed-cakes at the
+cart: baker won&#8217;t give no tick.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How much does it cost, Mr. Foreman,&#8221; said the butcher, &#8220;for a man
+&#8217;t&#8217;s obliged to leave town, to move a family out West? I only ask for
+information. I have known a case where a man had to leave&mdash;couldn&#8217;t
+live there no longer&mdash;wa&#8217;n&#8217;t wanted.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a knock. An officer, sent by the judge, inquired whether the
+jury were likely soon to agree.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It rests with you, sir,&#8221; said the foreman, looking at Eli.</p>
+
+<p>But Eli sat doggedly with his hands in his pockets, and did not look
+up or speak.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Say to the judge that I cannot tell,&#8221; said the foreman.</p>
+
+<p>It was eight o&#8217;clock when the officer returned, with orders to take
+the jury across the street to the hotel, to supper. They went out in
+pairs, except <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>that the juryman who was left to fall in with Eli made
+three with the file ahead, and left Eli to walk alone. This was
+noticed by the by standers. At the hotel, Eli could not eat a
+mouthful. He was seated at one end of the table, and was left entirely
+out of the conversation. When the jury were escorted back to the court
+house, rumors had evidently begun to arise from his having walked
+alone, for there was quite a little crowd at the hotel-door, to see
+them. They went as before: four pairs, a file of three, and Eli alone.
+Then the spectators understood it.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>When the jury were locked into their room again for the night, Mr.
+Eldridge sat down by Eli, and lit his pipe.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I understand,&#8221; he said, &#8220;just how you feel. Now, between you and me,
+there was a good-hearted fellow that kept me out of a bad mess once.
+I&#8217;ve never told anybody just what it was, and I don&#8217;t mean to tell you
+now, but it brought my blood up standing, to find how near I&#8217;d come to
+putting a fine steamer and two hundred and forty passengers under
+water. Well, one day, a year or so after that, this man had a chance
+to get a good ship, only there was some talk against him, that he
+drank a little. Well, the owners told him they wanted to see me, and
+he come to me, and says he, &#8216;Mr. Eldridge, I hope you&#8217;ll speak a good
+word for me; if you do, I&#8217;ll get the ship, but if they refuse me this
+one, I&#8217;m dished everywhere.&#8217; Well, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>the owners put me the square
+question, and I had to tell &#8217;em. Well, I met him that afternoon on
+Sacramento Street, as white as a sheet, and he wouldn&#8217;t speak to me,
+but passed right by, and that night he went and shipped before the
+mast. That&#8217;s the last I ever heard of him. But I had to do it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; he added, &#8220;this man&#8217;s been good to you; but the case is proved,
+and you ought to vote with the rest of us.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It ain&#8217;t proved,&#8221; said Eli. &#8220;The judge said that if any man had a
+reasonable doubt, he ought to hold out. Now, I ain&#8217;t convinced.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s easy said,&#8221; replied Mr. Eldridge, a little hotly, and he
+arose, and left him.</p>
+
+<p>The jurymen broke up into little knots, tilted their chairs back, and
+settled into the easiest positions that their cramped quarters
+allowed. Most of them lit their pipes; the captain, and one or two
+whom he honored, smoked fragrant cigars, and the room was soon filled
+with a dense cloud.</p>
+
+<p>Eli sat alone by the window.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sometimes sell two at one house,&#8221; said a lank book-agent, arousing
+himself from a reverie; &#8220;once sold three.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think the Early Rose is about as profitable as any,&#8221; said a little
+farmer, with a large circular beard. &#8220;I used to favor Jacobs&#8217;s
+Seedling, but they haven&#8217;t done so well with me of late years.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Sometimes,&#8221; said the book-agent, picking his teeth with a quill,
+&#8220;you&#8217;ll go to a house, and they&#8217;ll say they can&#8217;t be induced to buy a
+book of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>any kind, historical, fictitious, or religious; but you just
+keep on talking, and show the pictures&mdash;&#8216;Grant in Boyhood,&#8217; &#8216;Grant a
+Tanner,&#8217; &#8216;Grant at Head-quarters,&#8217; &#8216;Grant in the White House,&#8217; &#8216;Grant
+before Queen Victoria,&#8217; and they warm up, I tell you, and not
+infrequently buy.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Do you sell de &#8216;Illustrated Bible,&#8217;&#8221; asked Washington, &#8220;wid de
+Hypocrypha?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; I have a more popular treatise&mdash;the &#8216;Illustrated History of the
+Bible.&#8217; Greater variety. Brings in the surrounding nations, in
+costume. Cloth, three dollars; sheep, three-fifty; half calf,
+five-seventy-five, full morocco, gilt edges, seven-fifty. Six hundred
+and seven illustrations on wood and steel. Three different engravings
+of Abraham alone. Four of Noah&mdash;&#8216;Noah before the Flood,&#8217; &#8216;Noah
+Building the Ark,&#8217; &#8216;Noah Welcoming the Dove,&#8217; &#8216;Noah on Ararat.&#8217; Steel
+engraving of Ezekiel&#8217;s Wheel, explaining prophecy. Jonah under the
+gourd, Nineveh in the distance.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Eldridge and Captain Thomas had drifted into a discussion of
+harbors, and the captain had drawn his chair up to the table, and,
+with a cigar in his mouth, was explaining an ingeniously constructed
+foreign harbor. He was making a rough sketch, with a pen.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Here is north,&#8221; he said; &#8220;here is the coast-line; here are the flats;
+here are the sluice-gates; they store the water here, in&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Some of the younger men had their heads together, in a corner, about
+the tin-peddler, who was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>telling stories of people he had met in his
+journeys, which brought out repeated bursts of laughter.</p>
+
+<p>In the corner farthest from Eli, a delicate-looking man began to tell
+the butcher about Eli&#8217;s wife.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Twelve years ago this fall,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I taught district-school in
+the parish where she lived. She was about fourteen then. Her father
+was a poor farmer, without any faculty. Her mother was dead, and she
+kept house. I stayed there one week, boarding &#8217;round.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Prob&#8217;ly didn&#8217;t git not much of any fresh meat that week,&#8221; suggested
+the butcher.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She never said much, but it used to divert me to see her order around
+her big brothers, just as if she was their mother. She and I got to be
+great friends; but she was a queer piece. One day at school, the girls
+in her row were communicating, and annoying me, while the third class
+was reciting in &#8216;First Steps in Numbers,&#8217; and I was so incensed that I
+called Lizzie&mdash;that&#8217;s her name&mdash;right out, and had her stand up for
+twenty minutes. She was a shy little thing, and set great store by
+perfect marks. I saw that she was troubled a good deal, to have all of
+them looking and laughing at her. But she stood there, with her hands
+folded behind her, and not a smile or a word.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look out for a sullen cow,&#8221; said the butcher.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I felt afraid I had been too hasty with her, and I was rather sorry I
+had been so decided&mdash;although, to be sure, she didn&#8217;t pretend to deny
+that she had been communicating.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Of course,&#8221; said the butcher: &#8220;no use lyin&#8217; when you&#8217;re caught in the
+act.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, after school, she stayed at her desk, fixing her dinner-pail,
+and putting her books in a strap, and all that, till all the rest had
+gone, and then she came up to my desk, where I was correcting
+compositions.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now for music!&#8221; said the butcher.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She had been crying a little. Well, she looked straight in my face,
+and said she, &#8216;Mr. Pollard, I just wanted to say to you that I wasn&#8217;t
+doing anything at all when you called me up;&#8217; and off she went. Now,
+that was just like her&mdash;too proud to say a word before the school.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But here his listener&#8217;s attention was diverted by the voice of the
+book-agent:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The very best Bible for teachers, of course, is the limp-cover,
+protected edges, full Levant morocco, Oxford, silk-sewed, kid-lined,
+Bishop&#8217;s Divinity Circuit, with concordance, maps of the Holy Land,
+weights, measures, and money-tables of the Jews. Nothing like having a
+really&mdash;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And so,&#8221; said the captain, moving back his chair, &#8220;they let on the
+whole head of water, and scour out the channel to a T.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And then he rapped upon the table.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Gentlemen,&#8221; he said, &#8220;please draw your chairs up, and let us take
+another ballot.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The count resulted as before. The foreman muttered something which had
+a scriptural sound.</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments, he drew Mr. Eldridge and two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>others aside.
+&#8220;Gentlemen,&#8221; he said to them, &#8220;I shall quietly divide the jury into
+watches, under your charge: ten can sleep, while one wakes to keep Mr.
+Smith discussing the question. I don&#8217;t propose to have the night
+wasted.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And, by one man or another, Eli was kept awake.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t see,&#8221; said the book-agent, &#8220;why you should feel obliged to
+stick it out any longer. Of course, you are under obligations. But
+you&#8217;ve done more than enough already, so as that he can&#8217;t complain of
+you, and if you give in now, everybody&#8217;ll give you credit for trying
+to save your friend, on the one hand, and, on the other hand, for
+giving in to the evidence. So you&#8217;ll get credit both ways.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, the tin-peddler came on duty. He had not followed
+closely the story about John Wood&#8217;s loan, and had got it a little
+awry.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now, how foolish you be,&#8221; he said, in a confidential tone. &#8220;Can&#8217;t you
+see that if you cave in now, after stan&#8217;in&#8217; out nine hours&#8221;&mdash;and he
+looked at a silver watch with a brass chain, and stroked his
+goatee&mdash;&#8220;nine hours and twenty-seven minutes&mdash;that you&#8217;ve made jest
+rumpus enough so as&#8217;t he won&#8217;t dare to foreclose on you, for fear
+they&#8217;ll say you went back on a trade. On t&#8217;other hand, if you hold
+clear out, he&#8217;ll turn you out-o&#8217;-doors to-morrow, for a blind, so &#8217;s
+to look as if there wa&#8217;n&#8217;t no trade between you. Once he gits <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>off, he
+won&#8217;t know Joseph, you bet! That&#8217;s what I&#8217;d do,&#8221; he added, with a sly
+laugh. &#8220;Take your uncle&#8217;s advice.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The only trouble with that,&#8221; said Eli, shortly, &#8220;is that I don&#8217;t owe
+him anything.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh,&#8221; said the peddler; &#8220;that makes a difference. I understood you
+did.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Three o&#8217;clock came, and brought Mr. Eldridge. He found Eli worn out
+with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now I don&#8217;t judge you the way the others do,&#8221; said Mr. Eldridge, in a
+low tone, with his hand on Eli&#8217;s knee. &#8220;I know, as I told you, just
+the way you feel. But we can&#8217;t help such things. Suppose, now, that I
+had kept dark, and allowed to the owners that that man was always
+sober, and I had heard, six months after, of thirty or forty men going
+to the bottom because the captain was a little off his base; and then
+to think of their wives and children at home. We have to do some hard
+things; but I say, do the square thing, and let her slide.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I can&#8217;t believe he&#8217;s guilty,&#8221; said Eli.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But don&#8217;t you allow,&#8221; said Mr. Eldridge, &#8220;that eleven men are more
+sure to hit it right than one man?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; said Eli, reluctantly, &#8220;as a general thing.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, there&#8217;s always got to be some give to a jury, just as in
+everything else, and you ought to lay right down on the rest of us. It
+isn&#8217;t as if we were at all squirmish. Now, you know that if you hold
+out, he&#8217;ll be tried again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Yes, I suppose so.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Got to be&mdash;no other way,&#8221; said Mr Eldridge. &#8220;Now, the next time,
+there won&#8217;t be anybody like you to stand out, and the judge&#8217;ll know of
+this scrape, and he&#8217;ll just sock it to him.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Eli turned uneasily in his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And then it won&#8217;t be understood in your place, and folks&#8217;ll turn
+against you every way, and, what&#8217;s worse, let you alone.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I can stand it,&#8221; said Eli, angrily. &#8220;Let &#8217;em do as they like. They
+can&#8217;t kill me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;They can kill your wife and break down your children,&#8221; said Mr.
+Eldridge. &#8220;Women and children can&#8217;t stand it. Now there&#8217;s that man
+they were speaking of; he lived down my way. He sued a poor, shiftless
+fellow that had come from Pennsylvania to his daughter&#8217;s funeral, and
+had him arrested and taken off, crying, just before the funeral
+begun&mdash;after they&#8217;d even set the flowers on the coffin; and nobody&#8217;d
+speak to him after that&mdash;they just let him alone; and after a while
+his wife took sick of it&mdash;she was a nice, kindly woman&mdash;and she had
+sort of hysterics, and, finally, he moved off West. And &#8217;twasn&#8217;t long
+before the woman died. Now, you can&#8217;t undertake to do different from
+everybody else.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; said Eli; &#8220;I know I wish it was done with.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Eldridge stretched his arms and yawned. Then he began to walk up
+and down, and hum, out of tune. Then he stopped at Captain Thomas&#8217;s
+chair.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Suppose we try a ballot,&#8221; he said. &#8220;He seems to give a little.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>In a moment the foreman rapped.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is time we were taking another ballot, gentlemen,&#8221; he said.</p>
+
+<p>The sleepers rose, grumbling, from uneasy dreams.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will write &#8216;guilty&#8217; on twelve ballots,&#8221; said the foreman, &#8220;and if
+any one desires to write in &#8216;not,&#8217; of course he can.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>When the hat came to Eli, he took one of the ballots and held it in
+his hand a moment; and then he laid it on the table. There was a
+general murmur. The picture which Mr. Eldridge had drawn loomed up
+before him. But with a hasty hand he wrote in &#8220;not,&#8221; dropped in the
+ballot, and going back to his chair by the window, sat down.</p>
+
+<p>There was a cold wave of silence.</p>
+
+<p>Then Eli suddenly walked up to the foreman and faced him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Now,&#8221; he said, &#8220;we&#8217;ll stop. The very next turn breaks ground. If you,
+or any other man that you set on, tries to talk to me when I don&#8217;t
+want to hear, to worry me to death&mdash;look out!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>How the long hours wore on! How easy, sometimes, to resist an open
+pressure, and how hard, with the resistance gone, to fight, as one
+that beats the air! How the prospect of a whole hostile town loomed
+up, in a mirage, before Eli! And then the picture rose before him of a
+long, stately bark, now building, whose owner had asked <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>him yesterday
+to be first mate. And if his wife were only well, and he were only
+free from this night&#8217;s trouble, how soon, upon the long, green waves,
+he could begin to redeem his little home!</p>
+
+<p>And then came Mr. Eldridge, kind and friendly, to have another little
+chat.</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>Morning came, cold and drizzly. An officer knocked at the door, and
+called out, &#8220;Breakfast.&#8221; And, in a moment, unwashed, and all uncombed,
+except the tin-peddler, who always carried a beard-comb in his pocket,
+they were marched across the street to the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>There were a number of men on the piazza waiting to see them&mdash;jurymen,
+witnesses, and the accused himself, for he was on bail. He had seen
+the procession the night before, and, like the others, had read its
+meaning.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Eli knows I wouldn&#8217;t do it,&#8221; he had said to himself, &#8220;and he&#8217;s going
+to hang out, sure.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The jury began to turn from the court-house door. Everybody looked. A
+file of two men, another file, another, another; would there come
+three men, and then one? No; Eli no longer walked alone.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody looked at Wood; he turned sharply away.</p>
+
+<p>But this time the order of march in fact showed nothing, one way or
+the other. It only meant that the judge, who had happened to see the
+jury the night before returning from their supper, had sent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>for the
+high sheriff in some temper&mdash;for judges are human&mdash;and had vigorously
+intimated that if that statesman did not look after his fool of a
+deputy, who let a jury parade secrets to the public view, he
+would&mdash;&mdash;!</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>The jury were in their room again. At nine o&#8217;clock came a rap, and a
+summons from the court.</p>
+
+<p>The prosecuting attorney was speaking with the judge when they went
+in. In a moment he took his seat.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;John Wood!&#8221; called out the clerk, and the defendant arose. His
+attorney was not there.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Foreman!&#8221; said the judge, rising. The jury arose. The silence of
+the crowded court-room was intense.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Before the clerk asks you for a verdict, gentlemen,&#8221; said the judge,
+&#8220;I have something of the first importance to say to you, which has but
+this moment come to my knowledge.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Eli changed color, and the whole court-room looked at him.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There were some most singular rumors, after the case was given to
+you, gentlemen, to the effect that there had been in this cause a
+criminal abuse of justice. It is painful to suspect, and shocking to
+know, that courts and juries are liable ever to suffer by such
+unprincipled practices. After ten years upon the bench, I never
+witness a conviction of crime without pain; but that pain is light,
+compared with the distress of knowing of a wilful perversion <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>of
+justice. It is a relief to me to be able to say to you that such
+instances are, in my judgment, exceedingly rare, and&mdash;so keen is the
+awful searching power of truth&mdash;are almost invariably discovered.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The foreman touched his neighbor with his elbow. Eli folded his arms.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;As I said,&#8221; continued the judge, &#8220;there were most singular rumors.
+During the evening and the night, rumor, as is often the case, led to
+evidence, and evidence has led to confession and to certainty. And the
+district attorney now desires me to say to you that the chief officer
+of the bank&mdash;who held the second key to the safe&mdash;is now under arrest
+for a heavy defalcation, which a sham robbery was to conceal, and that
+you may find the prisoner at the bar&mdash;not guilty. I congratulate you,
+gentlemen, that you had not rendered an adverse verdict.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your Honor!&#8221; said Eli; and he cleared his throat; &#8220;I desire it to be
+known that, even as the case stood last night, this jury had not
+agreed to convict, and never would have!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>There was a hush, while a loud scratching pen indorsed the record of
+acquittal. Then Wood walked down to the jury-box and took Eli&#8217;s hand.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Just what I told my wife all through,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I knew you&#8217;d hang
+out!&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="medium" />
+
+<p>Eli&#8217;s jury was excused for the rest of the day, and by noon he was in
+his own village, relieved, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>too, of his most pressing burden: for
+George Cahoon had met him on the road, and told him that he was not
+going to the West, after all, for the present, and should not need his
+money. But, as he turned the bend of the road and neared his house, he
+felt a rising fear that some disturbing rumor might have reached his
+wife about his action on the jury. And, to his distress and amazement,
+there she was, sitting in a chair at the door.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lizzie!&#8221; he said, &#8220;what does this mean? Are you crazy?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll tell you what it means,&#8221; she said, as she stood up with a little
+smile and clasped her hands behind her. &#8220;This morning, it got around
+and came to me that you was standing out all alone for John Wood, and
+that the talk was that they&#8217;d be down on you, and drive you out of
+town, and that everybody pitied <i>me&mdash;pitied me</i>! And when I heard
+that, I thought I&#8217;d see! And my strength seemed to come all back, and
+I got right up, and dressed myself. And what&#8217;s more, I&#8217;m going to get
+well now!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>And she did.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="YOUNG_STRONG_OF_THE_CLARION" id="YOUNG_STRONG_OF_THE_CLARION"></a>YOUNG STRONG OF &#8220;THE CLARION.&#8221;</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Milicent Washburn Shinn.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8258; <i>Overland Monthly, September, 1884.</i></p>
+
+<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span>f you had asked any resident of Green&#8217;s Ferry some eight years
+ago&mdash;say, in &#8217;76&mdash;who were the leading men of his town, he would
+doubtless have begun:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, there&#8217;s Judge Garvey, of course. Then there&#8217;s Uncle Billy
+Green, who built the first shanty there in &#8217;49, and young Strong of
+&#8216;The Clarion&#8217;&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>However he might continue his enumeration, it would certainly have
+been as above for the first three names. One you would have
+recognized, if you had been following State politics closely for some
+years; for Judge Garvey was very regularly chosen State senator in his
+district, and had held the barren honor of presidential elector the
+last time his party carried the State. In &#8217;76, some of the papers were
+urging his nomination for Congress, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>and politicians thought his
+chance of such a nomination increasing. It has not turned out so; his
+name has quite dropped out of the papers, and it is said he does not
+certainly control his own county now; but at that time he was the most
+potent political influence in three counties. What he influenced them
+to, I never clearly understood, for I cannot recall that I ever heard
+his name mentioned in connection with any measure or opinion.</p>
+
+<p>A file of &#8220;The Clarion&#8221; during the four years that young Strong was
+editor would doubtless throw light on the matter. &#8220;The Clarion&#8221; was at
+this time a sort of voice crying in the wilderness about Reform, which
+was a very new idea, indeed, to its readers. Garvey did not like the
+paper, and young Strong disliked Garvey very much; but the two men had
+kept on fairly good terms&mdash;not so rigid good terms, of course, as to
+forbid their expressing to third parties the frankest contempt for
+each other. The Judge had here the advantage, for Strong despised him
+indignantly, as a knave, while he despised Strong&mdash;or said he
+did&mdash;pityingly, as a fool. He must, however, have at bottom honored
+the young fellow with some serious antipathy; for it was after all no
+laughing matter that a boy of twenty-five should come into &#8220;his Gaul,
+which he had conquered by arms,&#8221; and filch away his home paper from
+under his very eyes. Moreover, though people read the editorials,
+laughed, and voted with the Judge just the same&mdash;they still did read
+them. However, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>Judge Garvey certainly was more civil to Strong than
+Strong was to him.</p>
+
+<p>As for Uncle Billy Green, his rank was due not only to his connection
+with the &#8220;first shanty&#8221; (a house of entertainment at the point where
+a trail turned from the river toward the mines), but to his having
+remained steadily on the spot ever since, putting up a larger
+building at intervals as the settlement gathered around him, until
+now he was proprietor of the American Eagle Hotel, a house of goodly
+dimensions and generous equipment&mdash;billiard-room, bowling alley,
+shooting-gallery. Nor did Uncle Billy Green own and conduct this house
+in a purely business spirit; a more modest one would have been more
+profitable; he liked to &#8220;do that much for the town.&#8221; A man by the name
+of Gulliver had established the old rope-ferry, before the day of
+bridges, but it was naturally called Green&#8217;s Ferry, being a ferry at
+Green&#8217;s place. He had been of an undoubted valor in the Indian fights
+of early days, was full of reminiscences, had no personal objections
+to anybody or anything, and had long given over to Judge Garvey the
+trouble of forming his opinions.</p>
+
+<p>Judge Garvey and young Strong were pretty sure to be put upon such
+boards or committees as the local affairs of the small town demanded;
+and in local matters they proved to pull together fairly well, however
+at odds they were politically. But in the end it was not over
+politics, but over the district school, that they fell out squarely.
+They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>were both trustees, and as Green was the third, the board seemed
+in little danger from any too radical reforming tendencies young
+Strong might be guilty of, and the Judge had no thought of danger as
+he walked down to &#8220;The Clarion&#8221; office, a breathless September
+afternoon, a couple of days before the school should open.</p>
+
+<p>He found young Strong in his editorial room. This was a corner of the
+printing-office, fenced off by a great screen pasted over with old
+exchanges. Behind this, Strong sat at his table, correcting proof
+energetically. It was evident that he took the editing of this little
+four-page weekly rather seriously&mdash;but, then, a man must needs be
+business-like to produce even four pages weekly with one assistant,
+and Strong had to economize time enough from strictly editorial
+functions to do a goodly share of type-setting and the rest of the
+mechanics of the office.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Mr. Strong,&#8221; said the Judge.
+&#8220;I perceive you are arduously occupied. But it becomes necessary to
+confer with you with regard to the school-teacher.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The Judge was a tall and vigorously built man&mdash;a little red-faced, but
+good-looking, if one did not insist on too fine a definiteness of
+outline. He spoke habitually with a certain inflation of manner, and
+tried to form himself upon a Southern type that was pretty abundant in
+our politics some years earlier. He was, however, a native of rural
+New York, early transplanted to California.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p><p>Strong turned in his chair, and sitting sidewise, rested his elbow on
+the proof-sheets, holding the pencil still in his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221; he said. &#8220;I thought everything was settled.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Assuredly.&#8221; Judge Garvey rested his folded arms upon the pile of
+books stacked at the rear of the table, and leaned over them in a
+friendly way. &#8220;Mr. Coakley is to arrive Sunday evening, and will begin
+the term on Monday morning, to the great satisfaction, I can
+guarantee, of all concerned. A slight and merely temporary
+embarrassment has arisen, with respect to which a few words will make
+it all right. In point of fact, the young woman with whom we
+previously held correspondence&mdash;who, you will remember, broke her
+engagement with us to take a more advantageous position&mdash;is here.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The Judge stopped for question or comment, but as Strong waited for
+explanation, he went on:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She has, it appears, failed after all to secure that, and come here
+expecting to fall back upon our school, not having heard that it was
+engaged.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s unfortunate for her,&#8221; said Strong, &#8220;but you can&#8217;t ship
+Coakley now.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your views coincide exactly with my own, my dear sir.&#8221; The Judge
+straightened up with some relief. &#8220;I have only to ask, then, for a
+note to the lady to that effect, that my own explanation already given
+may be corroborated.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Strong began to look alert and suspicious at this.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;Views coincide?&#8221; he said. &#8220;What two views could there be? What does
+she say brought her here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;She&#8217;s got an idea that she&#8217;s got first claim on the place,&#8221; said the
+Judge, plumping suddenly into colloquial diction. He had a trick of
+doing so when he got down to business. It would have had something the
+effect of candid confession, produced by a maiden&#8217;s plain-hair days
+alternated with her waved-hair days, had not the grandiloquence of
+tone and manner become so far second nature that it ran through both
+his dialects, and lessened the contrast. &#8220;You can&#8217;t always make a
+woman see sense.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Strong looked suspiciously at him a few seconds. &#8220;Well, I&#8217;ll go see
+her this evening,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Where&#8217;s she staying?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That is a totally superfluous tax on your time, my dear Strong,&#8221; said
+the Judge, leaning persuasively across the books again. &#8220;I have here a
+mere formal line, stating that Coakley is the regularly engaged
+teacher of the school, and will begin next Monday; your signature to
+it&mdash;Green&#8217;s and mine are already there&mdash;will be all that is
+necessary.&#8221; He pushed pen and ink toward Strong with his exaggerated
+air of courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m not going to sign things that way, you know. I&#8217;ll go see
+her.&#8221; He turned and drew his proof-sheets to him with an air of
+dismissal.</p>
+
+<p>The Judge stood up very straight, expanded his chest, and folded his
+arms according to his conception <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>of the Virginian manner. &#8220;Am I to
+understand, sir, that you question my veracity?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t question anything,&#8221; said the young man, impatiently. &#8220;I&#8217;ll
+know what I&#8217;m talking about when I&#8217;ve seen her.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Permit me to suggest, sir&#8221;&mdash;the Judge was approaching his platform
+manner&mdash;&#8220;permit me to suggest, sir, that Mr. Green and myself
+constitute a majority of the board, and Mr. Green, sir&mdash;Uncle Billy
+Green&mdash;has confidence in my honor, and will sustain my action,
+whatever line you may be persuaded to adopt.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, as to that,&#8221; said Strong, exaggerating his crispness of manner in
+protest against the Judge&#8217;s staginess, &#8220;I&#8217;m clerk of the board, and
+you can&#8217;t hold a legal meeting nor pay a salary without me. What&#8217;s the
+reason you don&#8217;t want me to see her?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Judge Garvey unfolded his arms, fell back a step, and dropped easily
+into the sonorous declamation that made the stalwart Judge no
+inconspicuous figure on the floor of the Legislature. The newspapers,
+of course, were responsible for his language&mdash;as for the rest of his
+education; but such as it was, he used it fluently, and the
+declamatory manner was, to his constituency, quite an essential of
+eloquence&mdash;the prime difference, in fact, between oratory and plain
+talking.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You cast aspersions upon my honor, sir. Through me you insult the
+people of Green&#8217;s Ferry&mdash;of this county&mdash;of this district&mdash;the
+enlightened and honorable constituency who it is my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>proud honor to
+represent. I sco-r-n to answer your insinuations, sir. They will be
+hurled back upon yourself by the united voice and righteous
+indignation of my justly aroused fellow-townsmen, by the voters of
+this noble district&mdash;I may say, by the whole State of California&mdash;to
+which I am not unknown, sir.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Half-a-dozen of the justly aroused fellow-townsmen were straggling in
+from the street, for in Green&#8217;s Ferry a sprinkling of the citizens
+spend the warm afternoons sitting in absolute tranquillity on boxes
+and barrels here and there, under the awnings of the several business
+blocks; and the knowledge that a row was at last on between Judge
+Garvey and young Strong reached them at the first peal. The Judge,
+alive to the increase of his audience, raised his voice a shade, and
+went on with a curious mixture of complacency and genuine wrath.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is it lack of confidence that has sent me to represent my honorable
+constituency in the legislative halls of California, Mr. Strong? Have
+I received that proud token of esteem only to be insulted by one whose
+obscurity is his only shield; who, with unknown record, with no
+recommendation save his own overwhelming self-esteem, comes among us
+to sow dissent in peaceful counsels, and draw scorn and contempt upon
+his own head by impotent and futile attacks upon those whom he is
+powerless to harm?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This rounded the climax well, so the Judge only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>added: &#8220;The call you
+propose, sir, I shall regard as a direct insult to myself,&#8221; and strode
+dramatically from the room.</p>
+
+<p>The papered screen went crashing to the floor behind him. The justly
+aroused fellow-townsmen looked after him, laughing but admiring.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Laid you out, didn&#8217;t he, Strong?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s the way he does it at Sacramento. Oh, the Judge is a real
+orator&mdash;there&#8217;s no doubt of that.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>He</i> don&#8217;t have to make his speech up before-hand. No, sir, right
+where he is, any time of day, he just turns the faucet, and there it
+comes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What was the row, anyway, Strong?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t know myself; something about a teacher&mdash;he began to bluster
+all of a sudden.&#8221; Strong walked over to the screen, picked it up, set
+it straight along a crack with intense precision, and went back to his
+seat. &#8220;Drunk, isn&#8217;t he? I haven&#8217;t heard him take the stump that way
+since election. He&#8217;s always made rather a point of not quarrelling
+with me, too.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, he&#8217;s no drunker&#8217;n usual,&#8221; answered with candor a fellow-townsman.
+&#8220;The Judge ain&#8217;t really himself until he&#8217;s a little off. He didn&#8217;t
+blow so without some reason; don&#8217;t you fool yourself&mdash;not if <i>I</i> know
+the man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, if he&#8217;s got any game he must have come to his last chance in
+it, to try bullying on <i>me</i>,&#8221; said Strong; and then another of the
+group asked:</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;What row could there be about a teacher, Strong? Thought you&#8217;d given
+him his man.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The pencil rolled from the edge of the table across the floor at
+Strong&#8217;s movement of attention. &#8220;Coakley?&mdash;what of him?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The man began to laugh, and one or two others joined in. One of them
+said a little offensively: &#8220;Pretty good on you, youngster! You took
+too big a contract for your age when you undertook to keep up with
+Judge Garvey. He&#8217;ll give you odds and take you in, every time.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Strong reddened a little, but waited to be answered with very fair
+composure.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Didn&#8217;t you really know, Strong? The Judge scored one on you that
+time, then. Why, he&#8217;s been Garvey&#8217;s man in Sierra Township one or two
+elections now. Used to be a Millerite preacher, before your day, but
+he broke down at that. Good hand in county politics, but he&#8217;s always
+completely out of business between times. Why you remember him,
+Strong&mdash;he was round with the Judge election times&mdash;cross-eyed fellow,
+with black siders.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;<i>That</i> fellow? Why, he can&#8217;t spell straight! The way of it was, Judge
+Garvey told us only Tuesday that the teacher we&#8217;d got&mdash;first-rate
+certificates&mdash;had backed out; and we couldn&#8217;t put off beginning school
+any longer, nor hear of any teacher to be had; so when he produced
+this man, we had really no choice. I suppose I needn&#8217;t ask where he
+got his certificates.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;No&mdash;Garvey&#8217;s solid with this county board and superintendent.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Disgraceful!&#8221; said Strong; whereat all laughed, except one who had
+lost a ranch a few years before during business dealings with the
+Judge.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, he&#8217;s a scamp&mdash;I wouldn&#8217;t trust him out of sight with his baby&#8217;s
+silver mug,&#8221; said this man, with feeling. The rest laughed again. In
+Green&#8217;s Ferry a certain easy-going good-heartedness is required by the
+public conscience, rather than decalogue virtues. Garvey liked sharp
+practice&mdash;all right; if you were yourself hurt, you would naturally
+begin to vote against him; otherwise, it was none of your business,
+except as successful rascality had a claim on your admiration. Young
+Strong liked to write furious reform editorials&mdash;all right; if you
+were the one hit, you would swear at Strong and stop your subscription
+until a hit on some one else made you renew it; otherwise, it was none
+of your business and lively reading. They leaned against the wall and
+desk, and began with perfect good-nature to tell stories of the Judge.
+&#8220;R&#8217;member the time he got that Mexican ranch? Fellow thought it was a
+bill of sale for thirty acres he was signing, and it was three
+hundred.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Best thing was when he made old man Meeker believe he was dying, and
+deed over a good fifty thousand dollars in stock to his daughter&mdash;and
+married the girl, sir, before the old fellow found <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>he was good for
+twenty years more. He made the air smell of brimstone the rest of his
+life if you mentioned Garvey to him! Drowned in a ford a winter or two
+later, after all. Used to live in a little shanty up Indian Crick and
+raise potatoes&mdash;and Garvey sent him a cow&mdash;cheekiest thing!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Strong turned sharply away from the laugh that followed, and went on
+with his work, while they slowly dispersed. He worked on savagely with
+brows drawn together. &#8220;It isn&#8217;t so much the existence of scoundrels
+like Garvey that gets me,&#8221; he was saying to himself, &#8220;as the way the
+whole crowd of them take him.&#8221; He stopped to read over the words he
+was correcting&mdash;they were editorial:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Was ever folly greater than this of our community, in dropping
+everything else to run after money. For what do you expect to do with
+it when you get it? Better eating, and drinking, and the privilege of
+being toadied to by those who want to make something out of you&mdash;what
+more can you get out of money, if you have never made anything of
+<i>yourself</i>? Just as a pig, if he might take his choice whether he
+would be turned into a man or would be moved into a cosier sty, with
+more unbounded swill, would doubtless choose the sty!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My broom against the ocean,&#8221; he said; but he went on correcting
+doggedly.</p>
+
+<p>And, not to conceal from you what was in reality the most significant
+fact about Will Strong&mdash;the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>key to about everything he thought and
+did&mdash;he was mentally submitting this editorial, as he had submitted
+every other he had written, to the test of the probable opinion of a
+young woman he had not seen nor heard from for two years, but who
+nevertheless constituted to his mind the chief motive for
+existence&mdash;if not the chief and sufficient explanation of the human
+race&#8217;s having been created at all. You must realize, before trying to
+understand his story, that Will Strong was really a very romantic
+young man indeed, though he pretended to Green&#8217;s Ferry that he was
+not.</p>
+
+<p>Outside the screen, the strips of sun through the western window and
+open door lengthened across the meagre collection of dusty fonts of
+type, the small press, the piles of papers. The black-fingered,
+red-haired boy setting type among them reflected that it must be
+nearly dinner-time, and turned to see how far in the hot strips had
+crept&mdash;turned, and stood staring; for he met squarely the inquiring
+look of a pair of clear eyes, and became aware of a lady in the
+door-way.</p>
+
+<p>It is probable that Jim had never dreamed in his life of any other
+social distinction than that between rich and poor, notorious and
+obscure, nor was he a lad of perceptions; yet he knew at once that
+this was a very unusual sort of lady for Green&#8217;s Ferry. If he had been
+a man of the social world he would have known that she was a
+gentlewoman of notably high-bred appearance. She glanced, not without
+dismay, about the shabby <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>work-room, as if she felt herself where she
+had no business to be. Nevertheless, she came forward frankly, and
+asked in the friendly way of one whose station needs no asserting:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mr. Strong?&mdash;one of the school-board?&mdash;Is he here?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes&#8217;m.&#8221; The boy made no motion, but stood blankly staring.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;May I see him, please?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Lady to see you, Mr. Strong,&#8221; shouted Jim, standing still.</p>
+
+<p>In the few seconds before Strong emerged, the lady stood her ground in
+the middle of the floor, with some appearance of anxiety. She was
+certainly a very noticeable person, and came nearer to warranting that
+strong word &#8220;beautiful&#8221; than falls often to the lot of woman. It was a
+matter of outline more than color, however, for she had not much of
+that about her&mdash;brown hair, blue-gray eyes, skin of a warm paleness.
+All this low coloring, however, was so perfect of its sort, that it
+gave something the effect of a fine etching&mdash;a rich distinctness
+attained by shades, not colors. Instead of being outshone by more
+brilliant-hued women, Miss Northrop had always had the effect of
+making them look chromo-like. So, too, a certain nobility and
+self-forgetfulness of manner made the more elaborate manners of others
+seem the crude device of inferiority. It was a good deal due to
+her eyes; she had most wonderful eyes, and I doubt if any man or
+many women ever met them in a full <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>look without feeling a little
+stir of pulse&mdash;whether it was in the lashes, or in the sweet
+straightforwardness of look, utterly devoid of coquetry, or in the
+depth of the gray, or in what; certain it is that no one ever saw Miss
+Northrop without talking of her beautiful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A lady to see him?&#8221; The word in Green&#8217;s Ferry defined only the sex.
+Some one with a notice of a flock of sheep for sale, which she wanted
+to get in as a local; or with an ill-spelled poem; or&mdash;by George,
+yes&mdash;that school-mistress. Lucky she had not met Garvey there&mdash;poor
+girl! Strong laid his pencil down, and came out from behind the screen
+good-naturedly enough&mdash;and stopped short. What a thing to happen to a
+man, that he should live and move and have his being for a dozen years
+in the thought of one woman, should count a world worth living in
+because she was somewhere on it, and a pitiful human race worth
+working for because they were her fellow-creatures&mdash;and should come
+out from behind his screen, and see her before his eyes&mdash;on his dingy
+work-room floor&mdash;out of her four thousand miles&#8217; distance!</p>
+
+<p>They had been four years schoolmates in a New England High School.
+Will was a farmer&#8217;s lad, from an outlying, rocky village, who worked
+for his board while he went to school. He came of an unschooled,
+hard-working, God-fearing yeoman race. Winifred could look up every
+line of her descent, through vista of governors, college-presidents,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>and ministers, back to Colonial aristocracy and gentry beyond sea.
+Her great-grandfathers had carried swords in Revolutionary battles,
+where Will&#8217;s had followed with muskets. Winifred herself was
+one of those flowers into which excellent family trees break
+occasionally&mdash;flowers so lovely that no excellence of the tree seems
+enough to account for them. If she had any core of aristocratic
+coldness, it was so overlaid by a sweet humaneness, a frank generosity
+of impulse, that no one would have known it. If she had been a man, to
+have a valet, she would have been a hero to him.</p>
+
+<p>Even in the democracy of school, Will Strong knew well enough the
+difference between his shy awkwardness and her pleasant frankness; and
+knew that though he could meet school requirements about as well as
+she, yet his mental range was crude and narrow beside hers; and any
+one could see that in the town where he was an unknown boy she was an
+important young lady. These things would not have counted for much had
+not some medi&aelig;val follower of some exiled king dropped down into the
+boy&#8217;s temperament that passion of self-abasing loyalty that is rather
+an anachronism in our democratic days. They had been on terms of
+friendliness rather than friendship in school, but that was due more
+to his shyness than anything else. She had really given to him more
+opportunities than to most of her schoolmates; she liked his integrity
+and earnestness.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p><p>He had looked to college as the natural door between his world and
+hers; after four years at New Haven he might seek her acquaintance
+without audacity. To that end he had laboriously accumulated money,
+and had even passed his matriculation, when his father&#8217;s death made
+him indispensable on the poor little farm. Since then he had doggedly
+plodded alone through the college curriculum, but without finding in
+it the mysterious pass-word that he had expected into the intellectual
+aristocracy. Some two years before, his mother&#8217;s death and the growing
+up of younger brothers had left him free to seek his fortune in
+California. At twenty-seven he had lost his fresh look and boyish
+shyness; he looked older than he was, but he was really very youthful,
+and believed in all sorts of abstractions beginning with capitals. His
+mental furniture, being obtained from books, not people, was not quite
+in the style of the present decade, and he read Carlyle and Emerson
+more than Herbert Spencer. His creed had, therefore, quite
+transcendentalism enough to accommodate without incongruity his little
+private deification.</p>
+
+<p>Once in every year or two, as opportunity took him near her home, he
+had called on her, and had multiplied each call mightily by thinking
+of it before and after. He had also kept up a stupid correspondence
+with a schoolmate who had lived in the same town with her, for the
+chance of her name being mentioned. Within a couple of years, however,
+she had lost her father and gone to relatives <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>in New York, so he had
+lost exact knowledge even of her whereabouts.</p>
+
+<p>She spoke before he had found his voice&mdash;without an instant&#8217;s
+hesitation, indeed. &#8220;Oh, Will Strong!&#8221; she cried, stepping quickly
+toward him and holding out her hand. &#8220;I <i>hoped</i> it was you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He took the offered hand, and said to himself that his own was
+consecrated by the touch to clean deeds forever. He would not have
+known how to address her, but he followed her leading.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is Winifred Northrop!&#8221; he said. &#8220;What is it? Can I do something
+for you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You are school-committee man, are you not?&#8221; Anxiety, relief, and
+trust mingled in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Trustee&mdash;yes. Why,&#8221; he cried, &#8220;it isn&#8217;t possible that <i>you</i> are the
+lady!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She laughed. &#8220;I suppose the lady must be I.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He did not smile. He even lost color with wrath. &#8220;Garvey has dared to
+play you some trick!&mdash;I did not dream&mdash;&#8221; he went on, eagerly, &#8220;Garvey
+kept the letters in his hands, and bungled over the name, so I did not
+once fairly catch it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He turned back to his corner, and put the remaining bit of proof into
+his pocket. New heavens and new earth had come into existence since
+the last pencil mark on it.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; he said, &#8220;I&#8217;m called off on school-business. You get as much of
+that set up as you can before dinner, and then lock up; and I&#8217;ll come
+down and make the corrections in the editorials before I go to bed.
+Now&mdash;Winifred&mdash;if I may <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>walk home with you, we&#8217;ll get to the bottom
+of Garvey&#8217;s tricks. Villain!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The epithet was so fervent, and so entirely without humorous intent,
+that Miss Northrop laughed again as they walked out into the dull, hot
+September afternoon sun. The board sidewalk was uneven and full of
+projecting nails and splinters, and she held her thin, blue-gray dress
+prettily aside from them; Will noted the gesture with admiration as
+intense as unreasonable. It seemed to him peculiarly admirable that
+she should draw her hat a little forward to shade her eyes, and should
+take just the length of step that she did; the absolutely right step
+for a lady was thenceforth settled; since then, he has insisted
+unreasonably upon a certain shade as the only right thing in gray, as
+if he held in his own mind some positive standard beyond the realm of
+variable taste.</p>
+
+<p>The two or three business blocks&mdash;rows of slight frame-buildings, more
+of them saloons than would seem possible&mdash;were very quiet; Green&#8217;s
+Ferry is the shipping point of a wide stock-raising district, and all
+its activity centres about the railroad station at stated times daily.
+The justly aroused fellow-townsmen were all back under the
+awnings&mdash;leaning against the wall by the post-office, sitting on boxes
+by the grocery; some indolently telling stories and chaffing; some
+looking sleepily before them in absolute repose; some in various
+stages of inert drunkenness. All stared curiously at young Strong and
+the strange lady, and prepared to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>talk them over afterward, but no
+one addressed him.</p>
+
+<p>They turned aside soon into a broad cross street with no sidewalk,
+where the coarse dust was in places ankle deep. Behind them, beyond
+the main street, a few groups of yellowing cottonwoods on bare banks
+of reddish clay marked the course of the Sacramento; before them the
+street faded into a limitless expanse of gravel, thinly dotted in the
+distance with dull green oaks, and bounded by long knolls, like
+wrinkles in the plain, dark with oaks against the smoky sky of
+September&mdash;a sky dull blue above, dull gray near the horizon.</p>
+
+<p>Along either side of the street the flimsy wooden houses were set
+back, each in its yard, and surrounded by oleanders; sometimes there
+would be a few parched roses, a trellis of Madeira-vine, a patch of
+carefully nursed grass, often a row of China trees, whose fallen black
+seeds stippled the dust&mdash;but always the great rosy clumps of
+oleanders, glorying in the heat and drought. Every evening after
+dinner the owners come out, and stand watering these gardens with hose
+and sprinkler, till all along the street there is a murmur like rain
+and a smell of damp earth, and here and there through the warm
+twilight a glimpse of the white sprays of water; while the families
+sit on the porches and doorstep, and gossip and laugh. At this hour,
+however, the little gardens and splendid oleanders lay hot and
+deserted in the dusty afternoon.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I haven&#8217;t till now had time to spare from being anxious to be
+interested,&#8221; Miss Northrop said. &#8220;I was rather panic-stricken this
+morning, and things were awful, instead of interesting, in proportion
+to their newness.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>This bit of pathos stiffened Will&#8217;s manner with the awkwardness of
+over-feeling, as he asked: &#8220;Now, what can I do for you&mdash;Winifred?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>The awkwardness made him more like the school-boy Will; and then, a
+familiar face four thousand miles from home seems more familiar than
+it really is. Miss Northrop answered confidingly: &#8220;I will tell you all
+about it, and then you will know what to do. I wrote to Judge
+Garvey&mdash;some one referred me to him at Sacramento&mdash;and asked if I
+might teach the school. He wrote back that I might, fixed the day, and
+directed me to a boarding-place that he had engaged for me. So I came
+by yesterday evening&#8217;s train, and sent word that I was here. This
+morning he called and told me&mdash;with most oppressive civility&mdash;that as
+I had not answered his last letter, the place had been given to some
+one else. He said &#8216;professional etiquette&#8217; here demands an answer in
+such a case, and failure to answer is equivalent to a withdrawal of
+the application.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He lied,&#8221; said Will, parenthetically, walking along with his eyes on
+the ground; she, on the contrary, looked at him often, with frank
+directness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;He did not impress me,&#8221; she said, &#8220;as the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>soul of candor. I said as
+little as possible to him, but when he was gone I asked about the rest
+of the committee, and as soon as I heard your name I hoped it was you;
+I knew you were somewhere in California. This afternoon I received his
+letter written to prevent my coming. It had followed me up here by the
+same train that I came on.&#8221; She held the letter in her hand, and Will
+quietly took it and kept it. &#8220;I would not raise any controversy about
+such a thing,&#8221; she went on, &#8220;if I had any idea in the world where else
+to go or what to do.&#8221; Her voice sharpened a little again, with a note
+of pathos.</p>
+
+<p>Will did not know how to answer without seeming to question or
+comment, so there came a pause; then he said:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;This Coakley was an electioneering agent of Garvey&#8217;s, and doesn&#8217;t
+know enough to teach babies. He seems to have turned up suddenly
+wanting help, and the Judge is willing enough to keep him on hand and
+under obligations until next election.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Northrop stopped short and looked at him with brows a little
+raised, and her bearing became impalpably more distant.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But I cannot enter into contest with&mdash;these men for permission to
+teach school here,&#8221; she said.</p>
+
+<p>She was right, in her quick feeling that Will Strong&#8217;s training could
+not have made work and discomfort and contact with vulgarity seem
+outside the sphere of women. If it had been one of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>his own sisters he
+would have said: &#8220;Oh, well, we have to take the world as we find it.
+Brace up, little girl; I&#8217;ll put you safe through, and you&#8217;ll find it&#8217;s
+not so bad, after all.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>But what he said to Winifred Northrop was: &#8220;It is outrageous! Such
+brutes as Garvey have no business to look at a lady! If you really
+prefer not to take the school,&#8221; he went on, with some embarrassment,
+&#8220;I hope you will call on me to help you in any other way; but if you
+want the school you shall have it, and no annoyance with it that I can
+help.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Miss Northrop repented that she had repented her confidence. &#8220;I
+remembered that you were kind of old, Will&#8221;&mdash;and her manner was
+irresistibly winning when she said such a thing&mdash;&#8220;but you are so very
+kind now that you make me ashamed. I only meant to ask you what I must
+do. Yes, I must take this position if I can, for I have no
+alternative.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing for you to do,&#8221; he said. &#8220;It is my place, as an
+officer of the school, to see that its rightful teacher is not
+defrauded.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;So it is,&#8221; she said, relieved. &#8220;But I am none the less grateful.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is a pleasure to me to be able to do anything for you,&#8221; he said,
+gravely, somewhat stiffly&mdash;from his tone you would not have suspected
+much more truth than usual in the formula.</p>
+
+<p>She only said: &#8220;You are very kind,&#8221; and then he lifted his hat, and
+left her at Mrs. Stutt&#8217;s gate.</p>
+
+<p>He deliberately and literally believed, as he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>walked down the
+street&mdash;directly to Green&#8217;s&mdash;that he was the happiest man in the
+world. For that matter, it is not impossible that he was. He was
+absolutely innocent of conscious hyperbole in saying, &#8220;It would be
+worth a life-time of trouble only to have <i>seen</i> her; and I know her
+and am able to do her a service!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He scored one advantage in having seen Miss Northrop early; he saw
+Green before Garvey had talked with him. The report of the quarrel had
+by no means failed to reach &#8220;The American Eagle,&#8221; and when Strong came
+in Uncle Billy Green was just expressing himself with regard to
+Coakley:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course the Judge&#8217;ll provide for his man when he gets a chance.
+That&#8217;s where he&#8217;s sharp. And if Coakley is smart enough to suit Judge
+Garvey, he&#8217;s smart enough to teach <i>my</i> children&mdash;that&#8217;s what <i>I</i>
+say.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>A private audience with him would have been merely postponing the hour
+of general discussion, so Strong made a brief exposition of his
+case&mdash;gently enough, but with considerable force&mdash;then and there,
+displaying the letter he carried by way of proof. He hardly expected
+to elicit anything but the usual laugh and comment on the Judge&#8217;s
+smartness. But there was a marked seriousness of tone in the remarks
+when he ended.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, that <i>is</i> pretty rough.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, sir, that&#8217;s going too far. The Judge ought to know where to
+stop. I don&#8217;t stand by no <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>man when it comes to a shabby trick on an
+unprotected school-marm.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A real lady, too&mdash;I could see that when she went by with you,
+Strong.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Even Green said, uneasily, &#8220;No, I shouldn&#8217;t think the Judge ought to
+do that, quite.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was evident that Green&#8217;s Ferry drew its lines as much as any other
+town. The moral support it offered Strong was mainly negative,
+however, and Green, after several alternate conversations with his two
+fellow trustees during this Saturday evening, went off early Sunday
+morning to visit his married daughter at the old Meeker place, leaving
+word that they must fix it between them. Judge Garvey closed the
+somewhat stormy conference of Saturday evening with a promise to break
+down Miss Northrop&#8217;s school in a week, and Strong&#8217;s paper in a month.
+&#8220;Do you flatter yourself I should not have had your contemptible sheet
+in powder under my feet, sir, before this, if I had thought it worth
+the attention?&#8221; Nevertheless, as there was nothing on which the Judge
+prided himself more than on his invariable civility to ladies (&#8220;the
+courtly Judge&#8221; was his favorite phrase in writing up a local notice of
+any affair at which he had been present), Strong, having possession of
+the school-house key, was able to put Miss Northrop into possession on
+Monday morning without opposition. The Judge even visited her during
+the day and addressed the school with extreme suavity.</p>
+
+<p>He was, however, very seriously affronted, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>had not passed his
+Sunday without diligent preparation among parents and children to make
+Miss Northrop&#8217;s position untenable. It would have been no difficult
+task, either, but for an altogether unprecedented obstacle&mdash;a factor
+that he had not dreamed of in his calculations, and that Strong
+himself had underestimated. The children, who had gone to school
+Monday morning primed for mutiny, surrendered their hearts in a body
+to Miss Northrop by night; three days later, Uncle Billy Green&#8217;s
+niece, who taught the primary school, gave in adoring allegiance; by
+the end of the week everybody who had seen her was her advocate. It
+was certainly an unprecedented thing that Judge Garvey&#8217;s best
+exertions should come to naught, because of a woman&#8217;s way of smiling
+and speaking; but Miss Northrop&#8217;s tenure of the school was secure. It
+was not entirely speech and smile, however. Miss Northrop was
+interested in everything, and consequently had common ground with
+everybody; and she met each one on that ground, not so much ignoring
+as temporarily forgetting differences.</p>
+
+<p>The year wore on from gray to gray; the parching north wind poured
+down the plain and darkened the air with gritty dust; the sky, though
+cloudless, grew murkier every day. Then the wind shifted to the south,
+and the sky grew darker yet with surging heaps of clouds, and at last
+down came the late November rain; and next morning Miss Northrop could
+see, like a miraculous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>creation of the night, up and down every
+east-and-west street, a range of azure mountains along either horizon,
+snow-crowned, clear-cut, against an exquisite blue sky. Every two or
+three weeks the surge of clouds would come rolling up with the south
+wind, and the rain would come down in torrents for days, till the
+Sacramento, yellow with mud, roared level with its banks; and then the
+storm would break away, and there would be a week or two of blue sky
+and brilliant air and green earth.</p>
+
+<p>One Sunday in March, between the early and the latter rains, Miss
+Northrop and Will Strong walked out together several miles over the
+plain. The gravel had long disappeared under green burclover and
+<i>filaria</i>, thickly dotted with the little yellow clover blossoms, the
+lilac ones of the <i>filaria</i>, and with small blue gilias. The flocks
+and herds had been driven down from the mountains where they spend
+their summers and autumns, and the air was full of the bleating of
+lambs. Up and down either horizon, converging toward the north, were
+the long ranks of the Sierras and Coast Range, deep blue, ruggedly
+tipped with white peaks of all shapes&mdash;the Lassen Buttes, the Yallo
+Balleys, and many a lesser one. Northward, in the interval between the
+ranges, miles and miles away, the solitary peak of Shasta rose above
+the dark oak-knolls, sharp-white from base to tip, against a stainless
+sky. They sat down on the warm clover, beside a noisy yellow stream
+that ran <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>full to its banks on its way to the Sacramento. Winifred
+pushed back her hat, dropped her hands in her lap, and let her senses
+be played upon by the delicious air, the blue and white of mountains
+and sky and clouds, the luminous green, the rushing of water close by,
+and the bleating of flocks in the distance. It gave Will a good chance
+to watch her face&mdash;the sweetness of the mouth; the nobility of the
+level brows; the frankness of the eyes; the soft wave of her hair.
+There was a marked sadness in her face in repose; to wonder why, was
+to transgress the code of loyal humility that Will set himself; he had
+not even considered it due chivalry to speculate, much less ask, as to
+the reason of so amazing a phenomenon as her presence in California at
+all, and the incongruity of her school-teaching. Her pose was perfect,
+and yet nothing could be more unconscious. Was that marvellous
+spontaneity, that simple dignity, the regular thing among the men and
+women Winifred belonged with? It made him feel left very far out to
+think so. How incapable of effort for admiration she was, yet how
+invariably admirable!</p>
+
+<p>She caught him looking at her, in time. &#8220;What is it?&#8221; she said,
+simply.</p>
+
+<p>He colored with some confusion, but confessed a piece of his thought.
+&#8220;I was wondering if you really do not care at all for admiration. Most
+people would think they got the good of their living in being praised
+a fraction as much as you&#8217;ve been. If that&#8217;s impertinent I beg your
+pardon; you asked me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p><p>The portion of aristocrat&#8217;s pride that was in Winifred was largely
+concentrated in an objection to talking of herself or letting other
+people do it; so she looked a little annoyed. She began with some
+constraint:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;I care&mdash;at first&mdash;when it is the right one that praises. But
+there is always a reaction of self-distrust. It seems humiliating,&#8221;
+she went on more frankly, &#8220;to have been praised for having done some
+common thing&mdash;solved a problem, or written a poem, or handled a
+piano&mdash;a little more or less cleverly, when one comes to think what
+education and art are. And <i>personal</i> admiration&mdash;that always seems a
+contemptible sort of folly, if you think of what great things there
+are to do and be in the world, and the lives the great lonely souls
+have lived.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Your achievement seems little to you,&#8221; said Will, with some gloom,
+&#8220;because, I suppose, more always opens to you. To me, who have made
+none&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why, Will,&#8221; she cried, with the most genuine dissent. &#8220;You have done
+more than almost any one I know. Do you call it nothing to do a
+college curriculum alone and under all sorts of hindrances? And I know
+that it was done well and thoroughly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, yes,&#8221; he said, indifferently, tossing bits of clover into the
+stream, &#8220;I could have passed an A. B. fast enough. But you know better
+than I do, Winifred, that that&#8217;s the least of a college course. I&#8217;ve
+seen fellows that had to work their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>way through and had no spare time
+or energy, and they always lacked a great deal of the college flavor;
+the education didn&#8217;t permeate &#8217;em. Then there are other things&mdash;music,
+art, social opportunities, capacity of expression&mdash;that are no slight
+things to miss; they make up more of first-class living than Greek
+optatives or the equation of a surface. It isn&#8217;t really possible for a
+man, not backed by circumstances, to get himself into a position that
+some are born to.&#8221; He let the clover be and looked up. &#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m not
+growling, Winifred,&#8221; he said, hastily, smiling, as he saw her about to
+speak eagerly. &#8220;I&#8217;m only making philosophical observations, and using
+myself as an illustration. Why in the world should I growl to find
+myself stranded half way up, when there is a townful of people behind
+us clear down at the bottom, and no more their fault than mine? Why
+should I mind that I am left out from the best chances, any more than
+that a thousand other fellows are? &#8216;What Act of Legislature was there
+that&#8217; <i>I</i> should be cultured?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She was leaning forward with her irresistible eyes full on his, and
+face and voice vivified with that sympathetic expressiveness that
+makes speech count for far more than the words.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Will, that is true,&#8221; she cried, &#8220;but it is only part of the truth.
+&#8216;Close thy&#8217; Carlyle; &#8216;open thy&#8217; Emerson. It&#8217;s true, you have missed
+some things that you deserved to have and that many of your inferiors
+have for nothing. But your life is only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>begun, and your ability and
+pluck can do so much that you needn&#8217;t waste regret on anything they
+may fail to do. Even if circumstances be unconquerable that stand
+between you and some good things, are the things you have gained
+instead of less value?&mdash;your courage and patience, your self-reliance
+and trustworthiness and helpfulness? Why, Will, <i>character</i> is worth
+more than knowledge of art, or familiarity with good society; just to
+live bravely is worth more than all the rest. Do you suppose I would
+exchange your companionship for that of a dozen &#8216;cultured&#8217; people who
+could talk to me about &#8216;sincere furniture&#8216;&#8221;&mdash;this was in the last
+decade, remember&mdash;&#8220;and Rauss&#8217;s heads, as you can&#8217;t, and who never
+showed me one spark of genuine feeling about the great things of life,
+as you can?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Will was overwhelmed. Winifred had talked of his affairs much,
+following them with unvarying interest, but of himself or herself,
+never; and it was actually a new idea to the young fellow that she
+could have any very high opinion of him. Moreover, it was the first
+time he had heard her speak with unveiled and ardent feeling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You do not mean&#8221;&mdash;and he formed his words with difficulty&mdash;&#8220;that I
+could meet on equal ground people that&mdash;such people as <i>your</i>
+associates.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;No; you would meet most of them on higher ground. If they didn&#8217;t know
+it, that would be their discredit. I should think you could see
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>that,&#8221; she added, in a quick, parenthetic averse way, &#8220;from <i>their</i>
+associate. If you want to get a higher opinion of the value of your
+life, compare it with an ordinary, foolish, useless one&mdash;like mine.&#8221;
+She gave him no chance to answer that, but was the next moment on her
+feet, suggesting that they walk on, and wishing they were not to stop
+short of the Lassen Buttes, whose apparent nearness, scores of miles
+distant as they were, was still a perpetual surprise to her eastern
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>When everything has been made ready for it, a few sentences may easily
+make or mark an era in life; and it is probable that if Miss Northrop
+had not in effect told young Strong he was quite good enough for her,
+he might have remained her contented vassal for years. Six months of
+being her nearest friend worked their result, to be sure; but the
+humility they were gnawing at was of medi&aelig;vally tough fibre, and of
+twice six years&#8217; growth. His depreciation of himself, however, had
+only meant sense of distance from her; therefore, his sense of the
+significance of her speech was enormous. He felt his relation to her
+changed; he was shaken from all his moorings, and thrown into a mighty
+agitation that possessed him night and day, and only grew with time.
+For this was what it all came to: Was the distance between Winifred
+and himself greater than the distance between her and any other man?
+And when he had once thought that, the gate was open, and the
+besieging host marched in and took possession of every corner of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>him
+with longing and desire and a madness of tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>He thought of nothing else. He wrote his editorials and set type under
+an unceasing sense of it, as people have done brain-work and
+finger-work to an accompaniment of unceasing physical pain. For there
+was nothing joyous about it to him; it was all a bitter pain of mad
+desire to be something to her&mdash;to secure her, somehow, before this
+great, dark future swept her away from him. And yet the latter rains
+came and went, the green faded from the ground, the mountains grew
+dimmer and duller, and at last disappeared in the summer murk, before
+he took in his own mind the next step&mdash;from lover to suitor, as before
+from vassal to lover.</p>
+
+<p>He did so simply because he could not stand it any longer. It stood to
+reason that there must be a way out of such active torments. And,
+after all, why not he as well as any other man? It was absurd to
+suppose that Winifred could ever be <i>in love</i> with any man, as a man
+would be with her. It occurred to Will that the thing to do was
+natural enough, after all&mdash;not to ask Winifred&#8217;s love, but to offer
+her his. And he walked down to Mrs. Stutt&#8217;s to do it, one August
+evening, a little before school opened after vacation. He was in good
+spirits, too; to come to action and to speech, after so long
+repression, was an inestimable relief. And she had been doubly
+friendly to him all this time.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. Stutt was in her little strip of grass and oleanders. &#8220;That you,
+Mr. Strong?&#8221; she called out cheerily as he lifted the gate-latch.
+&#8220;Well, Miss Northrop&#8217;s in the sitting-room, I s&#8217;pose. You go right in,
+and I&#8217;ll come in when I&#8217;ve done my watering.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; said Will, absently, and walked on into the house.
+Winifred was not in the dark little sitting-room. He walked to the
+open window and stood there, expecting her to come in presently. There
+were veils of Madeira vine over the window, just opening their whitish
+tassels of bloom, and the air was full of the smell of them. Mrs.
+Stutt began to water the grass outside, and the shower of water from
+her hose glimmered through the Madeira vine; the noise of the water
+came to him, and the crying of crickets, and the smell of the freshly
+wet earth. Then he heard a step on the porch, and saw Winifred go down
+the short path to the gate. He could see by her white dress that she
+stood still there; so he went out, too, to join her. Mrs. Stutt was
+watering at the other side of the house now, and the two were alone.</p>
+
+<p>Will stopped a moment in the darkness and faint odor of a great
+oleander, a few feet from the motionless girl at the gate, to realize
+well the grace of her dim white figure, and her unconscious attitude.
+She stood in a weary way, with her head a little fallen back, and her
+hands hanging loosely clasped before her. There was so much and so
+incomprehensible emotion in the attitude, that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>Will felt vaguely
+thrust out into another world from that where her interests lay. She
+had not heard him approach, for the train from the south was just
+coming to a stand at the station, not a stone&#8217;s throw off, and there
+was a great noise of jarring cars, and shouting men, and escaping
+steam, and ringing bell. He waited till the noise should be quite
+over. Some one came walking rapidly from the station; Will, glancing
+at the dark figure, thought it had, even in this dimness, an
+unfamiliar look. It paused close by the gate.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Winifred!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Will did not know the voice; the tone turned him blind and dizzy.</p>
+
+<p>Winifred started violently, and turned; she clasped her hands tightly,
+and lifted them to her breast in a frightened way, as she fell back a
+step.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, my God!&#8221; she cried, under her breath. There was a rattle of the
+gate-latch, a sharp flying open of the gate, and the stranger held her
+in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;My darling, my darling!&#8221; he said, with an infinite tenderness. &#8220;Did
+you think you could hide anywhere in all this wide world where I
+should not find you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>For just an instant she yielded to his clasp&mdash;then she drew back. &#8220;You
+must not,&#8221; she said, softly, with unmistakable pain in her voice. &#8220;You
+know that. I thought if I was utterly out of sight or hearing, you
+would forget me, and <i>I</i> might&mdash;forget myself.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p><p>He broke in before she had fairly spoken. &#8220;You were mistaken,
+Winifred; there was no one between us. O my foolish little hot-head!
+if you had not been so headlong in your self-sacrifice&mdash;if you had
+only waited till I came back&mdash;I could have showed you in ten minutes
+that there was no place for it. Mollie is married to John Gates and is
+very happy. And you and I&mdash;my little girl, how nearly our two lives
+have been spoiled! Sweetheart,&#8221; he said, laughing with a shaky voice,
+&#8220;I think I shall never dare let go of you again&#8221;&mdash;and he drew her back
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>She hesitated&mdash;surrendered&mdash;clung to him with a long sobbing breath.
+&#8220;Oh, I have wanted you so, I have <i>wanted</i> you so!&#8221; she cried. &#8220;Oh,
+don&#8217;t be a dream and melt away this time!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Will Strong, standing close in the darkness of the oleander, acquiring
+a life-long association with smell of Madeira vine and oleander and
+wet earth, cry of crickets and noise of sprinkling water, gathered
+himself together enough to creep away. He was <i>going</i> to realize it
+pretty soon, he thought; he did not yet; it seemed likely to be beyond
+endurance when he did. As he passed the door some one opened it, and
+the lamp-light streamed about him; Winifred looked around and saw his
+face for an instant, and then he had slipped away through a side gate.</p>
+
+<p>He walked out from town across miles of dark plain, until he came to
+the empty channel of the stream by which they had sat in March.
+Underfoot <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>not a blade of grass or green thing; no stranger would have
+believed that living thing had ever grown there. The flocks and herds
+had long since gone to the mountain pastures. The dry channel between
+shelvy banks of gravel showed white in the unclouded yet dull
+starlight. The air was lifeless, and faintly tainted with smoke from
+forest fires in the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>Will threw himself down on his face, clutching with his fingers at the
+gritty dirt. He knew as surely then, looking forward to his life, as
+he will know at the end looking back, that this would never be an
+out-lived romance. Nor could he creep back into that temple of dreams
+from which Winifred&#8217;s own hand had lured him&mdash;it had crumbled to dust
+behind him. Nor was he like one who, losing a woman, loses only his
+best pleasure and best ambition; she was the vital condition to every
+pleasure, every ambition; losing her, he lost all. The realization
+clutched him by this time like a tiger. There was not a living
+creature within miles; a man might go down to primal depths, might
+drop even the restraint of the human in outcries and struggles as free
+as a tortured beast&#8217;s. It may be that solitude sees more such scenes
+than a decently decorous world would like to think.</p>
+
+<p>Yet there was a sense upon him of some moral demand, some decision to
+be made; and in time he began to try to collect himself for it. It
+would seem as if there could hardly be a position that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>left less for
+him to decide. There was no question of renouncing&mdash;he had never had
+anything to renounce. Nevertheless, his instinct was correct in urging
+him to a moral conflict and a momentous decision. The question was
+simply whether he could pick up his life again, could find faith that
+anything was worth living for; or whether life was to be a hollow
+going through the forms&mdash;frustrated, purposeless, full of brooding
+regret and jealousy, shame, and sense of wrong. But he could not drag
+his bruised mind up to the question; he could not even think what it
+was. He lifted himself up, stepped down into the dry channel, and
+knelt on the white stones, obeying old association with the attitude;
+laid his arms and head on a shelf of the bank, and let the stunned and
+nerveless will lie passive, while the accumulated forces of years&mdash;of
+generations&mdash;passion and pain and despair and love, shame and
+bitterness and loyalty&mdash;trampled back and forth over him, fighting out
+for him his battle.</p>
+
+<p>It was deathly, aggressively still; not an insect to chirp, not a tree
+to rustle; only bare earth and sodden air. After a long time Will
+raised his head and threw it back, looking up at the dull stars, while
+his outstretched hands lay clasped before him; he began to breathe
+more deeply. Not many minutes later he rose and walked homeward across
+the dim, wide waste.</p>
+
+<p>It was afternoon of the next day when he stood at Mrs. Stutt&#8217;s door
+again. Mrs. Stutt looked at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>him with the embarrassment of conscious
+pity as she admitted him. People had been looking at him all day, on
+the street and in the office, with the same embarrassment and pity.
+Miss Northrop was packing, the good woman said; and, in an answer to
+her call, Winifred came out from her room into the little
+sitting-room. She, too, was evidently under agitation and
+embarrassment. Will had no doubt, from his first sight of her face,
+that she had seen and understood his haggard flight the evening
+before. He was himself entirely calm, as he held out his hand with a
+grave smile in silence.</p>
+
+<p>Winifred tried to speak naturally.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I had just sent a note to you, Will,&#8221; she said, as they sat down.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;About the school, I suppose,&#8221; he answered, quietly. &#8220;You are going
+away at once?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221; There she stopped, with her eyes downcast. She looked up to his
+face and caught her breath to speak, stopped, and began again.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You have been very good to me all this year&mdash;&#8221; there she hesitated.
+Her difficulty was to choose her words so as to ignore his secret, and
+yet not part from him in a cold or inadequate way.</p>
+
+<p>He rose, and crossed over to her.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Winifred,&#8221; he said gently, &#8220;you are distressed on my account; and so
+it is better that I should speak of what otherwise it would be better
+to ignore. I want you to know that you have not harmed me.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p><p>She rose quickly at that, and they stood near together, with their
+eyes fixed on each other&#8217;s; the fulness of expression in her face
+seemed to take the place of answer. He went on steadily, speaking low:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I have thought it all over, and I find these two things stronger than
+any pain that may have come to me. Winifred, I cannot do you this
+wrong, to make you the instrument of evil to me. That is one of the
+two things. And the other is that there is nothing to reproach any one
+with; no one has done wrong; there is no cause for shame, or
+resentment, or bitterness&mdash;only for clean pain. Pain is no great evil,
+Winifred, when it is clean, no matter how sharp.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>He smiled at her tranquilly enough as he spoke. In truth, he was not
+unhappy at the moment. It is not during but after the parting
+interview that the pinch comes. She answered him only with her deeply
+attentive look, and he went on:</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I did not come to those convictions; they came to me; or rather, they
+were in me, and bore down all the other feelings. All the noisy
+passions dropped away before them, and left just those clear voices in
+my soul. They made all my love and loyalty work together, instead of
+tearing me in opposite directions. For, see, Winifred, hasn&#8217;t it been
+our moral faith for years that to do spiritual harm to another is the
+greatest evil that can befall one, and to do him spiritual benefit,
+the greatest good? All these years since we were in school <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>together,
+I have been proud to think that it could be only a good to you to have
+me think of you as I have thought, because it was only a good to me.
+And I will not be so disloyal now as to let my life be spoiled because
+of you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Winifred looked at him aghast. &#8220;All these years!&#8221; It was a revelation
+intolerable at first shock to a woman that was no coquette.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I think it was all the time dimly in my mind what <i>your</i> last year
+had been; at last I went out of my life and into yours. I want you to
+understand that I do not think of it with bitterness, because I
+entered so little into it; I realize, Winifred&#8221;&mdash;his voice broke from
+its steadiness&mdash;&#8220;that you have been good, <i>good</i> in it all. If you had
+not been&mdash;if you had trifled with me&mdash;I think I should be at the
+bottom of the river to-day. But since no one has wronged me,&#8221; he went
+on more quietly, &#8220;since nothing monstrous or unnatural has befallen
+me, everything I believed in has the same claim on me as ever.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And I want you to know that you need not <i>mind</i> my love, Winifred.&#8221;
+She dropped her eyes and stood mute. &#8220;It is something you may be
+willing and glad to have without troubling yourself because you cannot
+return it. For any pain that has happened, do not trouble yourself
+about that either&mdash;if I don&#8217;t mind it, you needn&#8217;t,&#8221; he said, smiling
+a little, with a certain manly sweetness quite new to him. &#8220;I find one
+gains something <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>in having no longer to struggle with pain and try to
+keep her at arm&#8217;s length.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>She looked up then, and cried out passionately. &#8220;O Will, Will, if only
+there was anything in all this world I could do to make it up to you!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There is nothing to make up,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I would rather have pain from
+you than pleasure from any one else. But there <i>is</i> something that you
+can do; this: not to feel my love a burden laid upon you, an annoyance
+or trespass, an anxiety or self-reproach&mdash;or anything that will make
+you want to get rid of it,&#8221; he finished, smiling again; &#8220;and to let me
+give you all I wish, on the condition that I ask no return. And if, in
+a few years, I should ask to come and live near you, and be good
+friends&mdash;may I? It would be hard,&#8221; he urged, less quietly, &#8220;that I
+should have to lose your friendship, when I ask nothing more. Would
+you take away the crumbs from me, just because I have lost the loaf?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Is that best, Will?&#8221; she began, anxious and hesitating. &#8220;Oh, I mean
+for you. It isn&#8217;t <i>possible</i> that you can always&mdash;think of me&mdash;so.
+There is no reason. If you do not see me&mdash;somebody else&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Have I been seeing you these dozen years?&#8221; he said, very gently. &#8220;You
+may trust me to know what is best for me. Why think&mdash;think a moment,
+dear friend, and you will understand. You, of all people, <i>can</i>
+understand the plane I want you to take me on.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p><p>Winifred&#8217;s eyes kindled and her face flushed. &#8220;I see. I <i>do</i>
+understand. I can meet you on your own plane, and I can trust your
+friendship and you. I am not afraid to have you come&mdash;after a year or
+two.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Thank you,&#8221; he said, shaken as he had not been.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It is because you are very noble that any good can come out of this
+harm,&#8221; she went on, with an eloquent tremor in her voice. &#8220;I can see
+that before very long I shall be, as you said, willing&mdash;glad&mdash;for so
+great a gift&mdash;only always sorry for your sake. I am very grateful
+<i>now</i>&mdash;I cannot tell you how great a thing I think it is&mdash;from such a
+man as you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They had both become embarrassed and shy now, and both stood silent to
+recover their ease. &#8220;You leave by this evening&#8217;s train?&#8221; he asked in a
+minute.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then this is good-by.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;For a while.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>They moved together to the door. As they reached it, Will turned and
+held out his hand, with an attempt at a smile. They stood a few
+moments with hands clasped. Winifred&#8217;s downcast eyes were filling.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-by, Winifred,&#8221; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Good-by,&#8221; she answered, faintly. A minute later she had thrown
+herself sobbing on her bed, and he was walking down the street.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p><p>He met Winifred&#8217;s lover, coming from the ticket-office&mdash;a gentleman
+high-bred and handsome in every line, a scholar by his appearance, a
+good man by his eyes, a good companion by his smile. There were all
+those differences between him and Will that the young man had talked
+of and Winifred in all sincerity had called nothing; and, moreover,
+she would never in the world have loved him if there had not been. The
+girl was an aristocrat after all, when it came to a question not of
+friendship but love. And Will knew it; love is penetrating enough to
+divine that much from scanty data. He looked at the stranger with a
+sort of transferred reverence&mdash;what a king of men must he be whom
+Winifred could crown! And if he did not look at him without a blinding
+pang, it was, nevertheless, a test of the thoroughness of the night&#8217;s
+work that there was neither bitterness nor aversion in it. Something,
+that sense of having disarmed pain&mdash;not dodged nor outwitted it, but
+disarmed it forever&mdash;must have been in Winkelried&#8217;s consciousness as
+the spears pressed in.</p>
+
+<p>But, after all, it is <i>taking</i> the second place that costs&mdash;not being
+there after it has been once sincerely and thoroughly accepted. Bunyan
+knew long ago that it was easy walking in the Valley of Humiliation,
+once you had come safely down.</p>
+
+<p>On the street an acquaintance met Strong and turned to walk beside
+him. It was the man who would not trust Judge Garvey out of sight with
+his baby&#8217;s silver mug.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I was just going to your office,&#8221; he said. &#8220;It&#8217;s something very
+important.&#8221; He spoke with a marked friendliness, and a transparently
+covert sympathy. &#8220;You see,&#8221; he went on, confidentially, &#8220;we fellows
+that have been against Garvey begin to think our minority&#8217;s about
+over. The whole affair of Miss Northrop has hurt him. He was shabby
+when first she came, about that Coakley business, and he&#8217;s been ugly
+about her ever since in a sneaking sort of way. Such a lady, too! And
+there&#8217;s a thing come out to-day&mdash;if you&#8217;ll excuse my speaking of it.&#8221;
+He showed a certain embarrassment. &#8220;Uncle Billy Green gave it away
+first&mdash;he knew, being postmaster&mdash;but Garvey&#8217;s been boasting of it
+himself, too, in the bar-room. You know you used to write to a fellow
+in the States, and haven&#8217;t written to him so much lately.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yes, I know,&#8221; said Strong. The man caught a hint of what he did not
+say in what he did.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Uncle Billy gives away any interesting point he gets in the
+post-office,&#8221; he said, apologetically. &#8220;You knew that before, Strong.
+Well, Garvey got out of him, too, that Miss Northrop didn&#8217;t have nor
+write any letters; and he got it into his head she was hiding. Anybody
+could see she wasn&#8217;t used to working for a living&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look here&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bless you, Strong, I sha&#8217;n&#8217;t say a word disrespectful to her. This is
+something you&#8217;d ought to know. He just did up a &#8216;Clarion&#8217; with some
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>notice about the school in it, and her name marked, and sent it to
+that fellow you used to write to; and he wrote on the margin: &#8216;Please
+forward to Miss N.&#8217;s friends.&#8217; He said in the bar-room, to-day, that
+he didn&#8217;t know just what would come of it, but it stood to reason if
+she was on the hide, it would damage her or you, somehow.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It hasn&#8217;t, however,&#8221; said Strong. &#8220;But if <i>I</i> stayed round the
+bar-room&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Oh, we choked him off. I tell you, Strong, everybody thinks it was a
+pretty dirty trick. The people don&#8217;t care so much about his big
+tricks, but they won&#8217;t stand any such small ones. No money in it,
+either&mdash;only spite! Well, the long and the short is&mdash;it&#8217;s only a few
+weeks till convention; and if you&#8217;ll take hold now while they&#8217;re mad,
+you can name your own man for Senate, and we&#8217;ll send you to Assembly.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t want to go to Assembly,&#8221; said Will, standing on his
+office-step. &#8220;I&#8217;ll gladly do my best to defeat Garvey for Senate.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, you just decide on your man, and bring him out in your next
+paper and we&#8217;ll elect him. The people are strong for you just now. And
+I should think you would look on going to Assembly as a sort of
+duty&mdash;purify politics, you know.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well&mdash;I&#8217;ll think about it.&#8221; And young Strong walked into his shabby
+office, stopped to give Jim directions, then went in behind his
+screen, and sat down to write a proper editorial for beginning the
+reform campaign.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HOW_OLD_WIGGINS_WORE_SHIP" id="HOW_OLD_WIGGINS_WORE_SHIP"></a>HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP.</h2>
+
+<h3>AN OLD SAILOR&#8217;S YARN.</h3>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Captain Roland T. Coffin.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8258; <i>The World, N. Y., November, 1878.</i></p>
+
+<p style="float: left; font-size: 100%; line-height: 80%; margin-top: 0;">&#8220;</p><p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">W</span>ell, sir,&#8221; said the old sailor, &#8220;here we are ag&#8217;in. I ain&#8217;t been
+round here much lately, and atwixt you and me, she&#8217;s put the &#8216;kybosh&#8217;
+onto it, holdin&#8217; that comin&#8217; round here and hystin&#8217; are promotin&#8217; of
+rheumatics, which, as are well known, they come of long and various
+exposures in all climates, to say nothin&#8217; of watchin&#8217; onto a damp dock
+night arter night continual. But what&#8217;s the use? Everybody knows as a
+quiet home are better than silver and fine gold, which it stands to
+reason are to be obtained in two ways. Wimmin are like sailors in some
+respects; whoever has anythin&#8217; to do with &#8217;em must either be saddled
+and bridled, leastwise, or else booted and spurred. You&#8217;ve got to ride
+&#8217;em, or else they&#8217;ll ride <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>you. Bein&#8217; a sailorman myself, it ain&#8217;t
+likely as I&#8217;d say anythin&#8217; ag&#8217;in &#8217;em; but if the truth must be told,
+I&#8217;ll say this&mdash;that while it&#8217;ll never do, not at no price, for to let
+sailors git the upper hand, there&#8217;s many a man as has giv&#8217; the helm
+into the hands of his old woman and made a better v&#8217;yage thereby; and
+I don&#8217;t mind sayin&#8217;, sir, that havin&#8217; while follerin&#8217; the water got
+into the habit of allowin&#8217; her for to be skipper in the house durin&#8217;
+my short stoppin&#8217;s on shore, it got for to be so much the custom, that
+since comin&#8217; home for a full due I ain&#8217;t never tried for to break away
+from it; and though human natur&#8217; is falliable, and she does make
+mistakes, especially about the hystin&#8217;, on the whole, and by and
+large, I judges I&#8217;ve been a gainer by it, as I believes at least eight
+men out of ten would be if they took the hint accordin&#8217; and went and
+done likewise.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t go for to say as she ever goes to go to say I ain&#8217;t a-goin&#8217;
+for to let you go there; but it are terrible aggrivokin&#8217; when the
+rheumatics twinges awful, and as it might be that this saw-mill don&#8217;t
+want no more splinters laid onto it, to have her feelin&#8217;ly remark,
+&#8216;Well, if you will go round a-guzzlin&#8217; ale with your swell friends and
+a-leavin&#8217; your lawful wife to home alone you must expect to pay for
+it,&#8217; whereas I know it are the dock and other causes long gone by; but
+that knowledge don&#8217;t ease the pain a morsel, and the last time I were
+that way tantalized I swore I wouldn&#8217;t come here no more. But whatever
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>are the use? Man resolves and reresolves and then takes another
+snifter, and so here I are, and bein&#8217; as its cold, as so she sha&#8217;n&#8217;t
+have no basis for her unfeelin&#8217; remark about guzzlin&#8217; ale, we&#8217;ll let
+him make it hot rum, and arter the old receipt, neither economizin&#8217; in
+the rum or the sugar, but givin&#8217; a fair drink for honest money.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Well, well (just mix another afore the glass cools off), to think how
+the time goes. Here it are autumn ag&#8217;in, and in a few weeks &#8217;twill be
+winter. It reminds me (I&#8217;ll take one more, if you please, with one
+lump less of sugar and the space in rum) that I&#8217;m gittin&#8217; old, and I
+feels it. My eyes ain&#8217;t so good and my legs ain&#8217;t so good, and I ain&#8217;t
+so good all over. When I goes down to the dock my lantern are heavier
+than it used to were, and the distance ain&#8217;t so short as it used to
+seem from the dock to the house. Afore many years I&#8217;ll be put quietly
+away, and though I&#8217;d prefer bein&#8217; beautifully sewed up and launched
+shipshape in blue water, with a hundred pound weight for to keep me
+down, I s&#8217;poses it won&#8217;t make much difference, nohow. Anyhow, if I
+lives as long as old Wiggins, I hopes I may go as well at the end. I
+don&#8217;t think I ever told you about him, and if you&#8217;ll let him fill &#8217;em
+up ag&#8217;in&mdash;for it&#8217;s one of the vartues of hot rum that the more you
+drinks the thirstier you gits&mdash;I&#8217;ll reel you the yarn right off.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Old Wiggins had been all his life into the Liverpool trade and had
+got well fixed, so far as cash were consarned; and so when he came for
+to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>be seventy or seventy-two years old he were persuaded for to knock
+off for a full due and spend the balance of his life ashore. Goin&#8217; up
+to some place in Connecticut, he buys hisself a place there and
+settles down. Well, for a time he were all right, a-fixin&#8217; up his
+house, a-buildin&#8217; new barns and hen-coops and fences and the like, and
+I&#8217;ve heerd tell that the house where he kep&#8217; his pigs were better than
+any dwellin&#8217;-house in that region, and the whole place were the wonder
+of the country roundabout; but arter he had fixed his house all up
+like a ship, with little staterooms all through the upper part of it,
+and had got everythin&#8217; inside and out in shipshape order, and there
+weren&#8217;t nothin&#8217; else he could think of for to do, he gits terribly
+homesick and discontented, and times when he&#8217;d come to the city for to
+collect his sheer of the profits of ships as he had a interest in,
+he&#8217;d sit for hours on the wharf a-watchin&#8217; the vessels on the river,
+and it were like drawin&#8217; teeth for to git him to leave and go up to
+his home. His eyes had giv&#8217; out sometime afore he quit the sea, and
+his legs was shaky, so as he had to walk with a settin&#8217; pole, and his
+hand were tremblin&#8217; and unsteady; but aloft he were still all right,
+and his head were as clear as a bell.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Arter bein&#8217; ashore a matter of seven year, he comes to town one day
+to see a ship off what he had been in afore he quit, and in which he
+had a half interest. The skipper of that ship, which her name were the
+Vesuvius, he bein&#8217; called Perkins, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>in comin&#8217; from the Custom House
+arter clearin&#8217;, got athwart-hawse of a dray and were knocked down, the
+wheels passin&#8217; over his legs and breakin&#8217; of &#8217;em, and whatever do old
+Wiggins do&mdash;the home-sickness bein&#8217; strong onto him&mdash;but says to the
+agents, &#8216;It are a pity for to lose a day&#8217;s fair wind; I&#8217;ll go aboard
+and take her out myself;&#8217; and, sure enough, he done it, never lettin&#8217;
+on to the folks at home, but leavin&#8217; the agents to tell &#8217;em arter he
+were gone.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Into that ship I were shipped, she bein&#8217; 830 tons or thereabout, with
+three royal yards across, and loaded with flour and grain, there bein&#8217;
+sixteen of us afore the mast, with two mates, carpenter and cook, and
+steward, leavin&#8217; on the 16th of November, and, unless I&#8217;m mistakened,
+in the year 1843.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;We towed down to the Hook and out over the bar, and then put the
+muslin on to her with a fine breeze from sou&#8217;west, and I supposes
+there weren&#8217;t a happier man in the world than old Wiggins when he
+discharged the pilot and steamer and took charge.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;I&#8217;ve giv&#8217; &#8217;em the slip,&#8217; says he to the mate. &#8216;I&#8217;ve giv&#8217; &#8217;em the
+slip; they thought I were too old for to go to sea, but I&#8217;ll show &#8217;em
+thar&#8217;s plenty of life into me yet; git out all the starboard stunsails
+and see to it that she&#8217;s kep&#8217; a-movin&#8217; night and day, for in sixteen
+days I expects to walk the pierhead in Liverpool.&#8217; Well, sure enough,
+a-movin&#8217; she were kep&#8217;, and I never seen harder <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>carryin&#8217;s on than I
+seen that passage; but we never lost a stitch of canvas, &#8217;cause the
+old man not only knowed how to carry it, but he knowed how to take it
+off of her when it be to come off, and in a gale of wind he&#8217;d &#8217;liven
+up wonderful, whereas in light weather he&#8217;d show his age. It were
+funny for to see him takin&#8217; the sun and tryin&#8217; to read her off, which
+he weren&#8217;t able for to do, not by no means.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;What d&#8217;ye stand on?&#8217; he&#8217;d say to the mate arter screwin&#8217; his eye to
+the glass and tryin&#8217; to make it out; and when the mate would tell him,
+he&#8217;d say, &#8216;I believe that agrees with me; just take a squint at my
+instrument; my eyesight ain&#8217;t just as good as it used for to be, and I
+don&#8217;t quite make it out.&#8217; Then the mate would read him off his
+instrument, and arter he&#8217;d made it eight bells he&#8217;d go down and work
+it up and prick her off. The fourteenth day out we made the light on
+Fastnet Rock, off Cape Clear, and went bowlin&#8217; along the coast,
+passin&#8217; Tuskar next day, and swingin&#8217; her off up channel and round
+Hollyhead past the Skerries and takin&#8217; a pilot off P&#8217;int Lynas. It
+were a sight worth seein&#8217; for to watch the old man handle her in
+takin&#8217; a pilot. The wind were fresh from west-nor&#8217;west, and we passed
+the Skerries with all three royals set and lower topmast and
+to&#8217;gallan&#8217; stunsails on the port side. As soon as ever we passed the
+rocks we kep&#8217; off for Lynas, and as soon as the stunsails got by the
+lee they was hauled in. Then with the wind about two p&#8217;ints on the
+starboard <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>quarter we went bilin&#8217; along for the boat which we seen
+standin&#8217; off shore just to the east&#8217;ard of the P&#8217;int. There were a
+pretty bubble of a sea on, and afore we gits to him he goes about
+standin&#8217; in to the bay and givin&#8217; sheet. We follers along arter him,
+goin&#8217; two feet to his one, still carryin&#8217; all three royals, with hands
+at halliards and clewlines. Just afore we gits to him the old man
+sings out, &#8216;Clew up the royals, haul down the flyin&#8217; jib, haul up the
+crochick and mainsail.&#8217; By this time we was well under the land and in
+smooth water. Keepin&#8217; his eye onto the pilot-boat, which were a couple
+of p&#8217;ints onto our weather bow, the old man no sooner seen her come to
+than he sings out, &#8216;Hard up the helm!&#8217; And as we swung off afore the
+wind we runned up the foresail and laid the head-yards square; then
+mannin&#8217; the port main braces we let the to&#8217;gallan&#8217; yards run down on
+the caps and let her come to ag&#8217;in, and so nicely had the old man
+calculated the distance that as she come to the wind she shot up
+alongside of the pilot-boat, stoppin&#8217; just abreast of her and not over
+twenty foot away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;That was well done, Mr. Mate,&#8217; said the pilot, as he come over the
+side; &#8216;some of these galoots makes us chase &#8217;em half a day afore we
+can board &#8217;em. Fill away the head-yards, put your helm up, run up the
+flyin&#8217; jib, brail up the spanker check in the arter yards,&#8217; and as she
+swung off he comes aft to the wheel where I was a-steerin&#8217;, and says,
+&#8216;Keep her east-sou&#8217;east, my man; giv&#8217; us a chew of terbacker.&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>We
+soon had the muslin piled onto her ag&#8217;in, and sure enough, as old
+Wiggins had said, the sixteenth day out he walked the pierhead in
+Liverpool.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I understood as old Wiggins was made a good deal on in Liverpool as
+bein&#8217; the oldest skipper that had ever come there, and the Board of
+Trade and what not giv&#8217; him dinners, and so on&mdash;which, considerin&#8217; his
+age, he oughtn&#8217;t to have took&mdash;and by other skippers at the hotel he
+were much honored, bein&#8217; giv&#8217; the head of the table and treated with
+great deference&mdash;and all this dinin&#8217; and winin&#8217; and feastin&#8217; weren&#8217;t
+no good to him&mdash;and, arter a stay of three weeks, when we ag&#8217;in went
+down the river with full complement of passengers and a good freight,
+he weren&#8217;t not by no means as well as when we went in. We had, too, a
+tough time down channel, a stiff sou&#8217;wester, with rain and thick
+weather, and it told onto the old man, so that when arter bein&#8217; out a
+week we at last got clear of Tuskar and had the ocean open, the relief
+from the strain fetched him, and he were took down sick.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whether it were to punish him for comin&#8217; to sea at his time of life
+or not I don&#8217;t know; but from this on we did have the devil&#8217;s own
+weather. Gale after gale from the west&#8217;ard, shiftin&#8217; constant from
+sou&#8217;west to nor&#8217;west, and tryin&#8217; constant to see from which quarter it
+could blow the hardest.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;The mate were a plucky and a able young feller, by the name of
+Graham, and he kep&#8217; her a-dancin&#8217; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>as well as the old man would have
+done. Constant she had everythin&#8217; put to her that she&#8217;d bear, and
+always were she kep&#8217; on the tack where she&#8217;d make the most westin&#8217;,
+and so she struggled along till we was as far as thirty degrees west,
+we bein&#8217; thirty days out and not yet half way. Every day we asked the
+steward how old Wiggins were a-gittin&#8217; on, and every day he&#8217;d shake
+his head and say &#8216;no better;&#8217; and it come to be understood, fore and
+aft, that it were as much as a toss-up if the old man ever smelled
+grass ag&#8217;in. We had a little let-up arter gittin&#8217; into the thirties,
+and for a day or so had fine weather and a chance to dry our dunnage.
+Fine days, however, is scarce in January on that herrin&#8217; pond&mdash;I&#8217;ll
+take just another; mentionin&#8217; herrin&#8217;s makes me dry&mdash;and when you gits
+&#8217;em they are most always weather-breeders. I went up on to the main
+royal yard when our side come up at 8 o&#8217;clock one mornin&#8217; for to sew
+on the leather on the parral, and it were like a day in May. Afore I
+got the leather sewed on I be to look out for myself, &#8217;cause they was
+goin&#8217; to clew up the sail, and from that time on it breezed on from
+the sou&#8217;ard, keepin&#8217; us constantly takin&#8217; the sail off of her, till at
+four bells we was under double-reefed topsails and reefed courses,
+with jib, crochick, and spanker stowed. We hammered away under this,
+carryin&#8217; on very heavy, &#8217;cause she were headin&#8217; west-nor&#8217;west, which
+were a good course, till eight bells in the arternoon watch, when the
+sea gittin&#8217; up so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>tremendiously we had to furl the reefed mainsail
+and mizzen topsail and close reef the fore and main topsails.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;d think that were snug enough for any ship, now, wouldn&#8217;t you?
+and sartin it are; no ship ever ought to have less canvas than this,
+till it blows away, &#8217;cause she&#8217;s safer with it onto her than with it
+off, the reefed foresail supportin&#8217; the yard. Well, we&#8217;d had gales and
+gales, but this here gale beat anythin&#8217; that I&#8217;d ever seen, and at
+seven bells in the first night watch, with a tremendious surge, the
+weather leech rope of the foresail giv&#8217; way, and in a jiffy away went
+the foreyard in the slings&mdash;the foresail and fore-topsail goin&#8217; into
+ribbons. All hands, of course, was busy for&#8217;ard, tryin&#8217; for to git
+some of this wreck stuff tranquillized, when all of a suddint from the
+poop come the old man&#8217;s voice, full and round and clear, and not
+shrill and pipin&#8217; as we&#8217;d heerd it last, and above all the roarin&#8217; of
+the gale and the din of the slattin&#8217; canvas, we heerd him shout:
+&#8216;Stations for wearin&#8217; ship. We must git her head round to the
+sou&#8217;ard,&#8217; he bawled in the ear of the mate, as Mr. Graham struggled
+aft; &#8216;the shift will come in less than half a hour, and its goin&#8217; to
+be tremendious; if it catches us aback it won&#8217;t leave a stick into
+her; but it ain&#8217;t a-goin&#8217; to catch us, sir; I&#8217;ve brung her through
+many and many a time like this. I&#8217;ll bring her through this one, and
+then you must do the rest. Now, then,&#8217; says he, &#8216;stand by, put your
+helm just a few spokes a-weather, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>don&#8217;t check her at all with the
+rudder, slack a foot or two of the lee braces and check in to
+wind&#8217;ard; keep your eye constant on that sail, Mr. Clark&#8217;&mdash;that were
+the second mate&mdash;&#8216;and don&#8217;t let it shake; keep it good full and give
+her away; lay the crochick yard square, and come up to the
+main-braces, all of you.&#8217; And so, gently, as if she&#8217;d been a sick
+child, he coaxed her to go off, and she begin to gather way. As soon
+as she done so the helm were put hard up, and the main-yard rounded
+in, just keepin&#8217; the topsail alift, but not permittin&#8217; it to shake. As
+she went off till she got the sea on the quarter, a mighty wave came
+a-rollin&#8217; along, boardin&#8217; us about the main riggin&#8217;, floodin&#8217; the
+decks and dashin&#8217; out the starboard bulwarks. The minnit we got the
+wind onto the starboard quarter we braced the main-yard sharp up with
+the port-braces and bowsed the weather ones as taut as a harp string.
+&#8216;Now, then,&#8217; says the old man, &#8216;never mind that trash for&#8217;ard, let
+that go; git a jumper on to the main-yard and a preventer main-topsail
+brace aloft; lay aloft for your lives, and clap preventer gaskets on
+everythin&#8217; that&#8217;s furled; we&#8217;ll have it soon from the north&#8217;ard fit to
+take the masts out of her.&#8217; He were right. In a short time there were
+a instant&#8217;s lull, and then with a roar that were almost deafenin&#8217; came
+the cyclone from the north. Thanks to the old man&#8217;s sagacity and
+experience, howsever, we was a-headin&#8217; sou&#8217;-southeast when it hit us,
+and it struck us right aft.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;Steady as you go,&#8217; shouts the old man, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>then, a minnit arter, as
+she gathered way, he says ag&#8217;in to the mate, &#8216;We must let her come to,
+Mr. Graham, we can&#8217;t run her in the teeth of the old s&#8217;utherly sea;
+ease down the helm and let her smell of it.&#8217; It was a powerful whiff
+she took, for as she come to and felt the force of the wind, all three
+to&#8217;gallan&#8217; masts went short off at the cap, the main-topsail sheets
+parted, and in an instant there wasn&#8217;t a piece of the sail left big
+enough for a lady&#8217;s handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;&#8216;That&#8217;s all it can do,&#8217; said the old man to the mate, bitterly; &#8216;git
+this trash on deck as soon as possible, and git her a-waggin&#8217; once
+more; I&#8217;ve brung her through it safe, and am goin&#8217; home,&#8217; and with
+that he dropped onto the poop as dead as mutton. He had come on deck
+bare-headed and with nothin&#8217; on but his drawers and shirt, just as he
+had laid in his bunk for a fortnight, and the exposure had carried him
+off. However, he knowed that the shift were so near nobody ever could
+tell. There were no doubt, however, but that his gittin&#8217; her weared
+round were our salvation. If that gust had a-struck us aback our masts
+would have gone sartin, and it&#8217;s a toss-up but what we&#8217;d a-gone down
+starn fust afore she&#8217;d a-backed round. Next day we giv&#8217; old Wiggins a
+funeral fit for the Emperor of Rooshy, and he well desarved it. I
+don&#8217;t know as ever I seen a prettier sew-up than we done on him,
+wrappin&#8217; him first in the American ensign and then kiverin&#8217; him with
+brand-new No. 4 canvas. Considerin&#8217; the sails we&#8217;d lost and how <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>much
+we needed the canvas, I think he must have been satisfied that we done
+the handsome thing by him. The day was beautiful and clear, although
+the wind still blowed a gale. We hadn&#8217;t been able to do much with the
+wreck stuff, except git lashin&#8217;s onto it for to keep it from swingin&#8217;
+about, and we hadn&#8217;t dared for to try for to send up another
+main-topsail. We had set the reefed mainsail for to steady her, and
+that were all. The three to&#8217;gallan&#8217; masts was still a-hangin&#8217; over the
+side, and the ribbons of the foresail and fore-topsail was still
+a-flutterin&#8217; in the breeze, when at eight bells, at midday, all hands
+was called for to bury the dead. Everythin&#8217; that we had in the way of
+nice clothes we had put on for to do honor to our captain, and most of
+us was able to sport white shirts and broadcloth. We laid the old man
+onto a plank and kivered him with the union jack, and all hands
+gathered round him, while Mr. Graham read the sarvice. Everythin&#8217; went
+lovely, and just at the proper time we tilted the plank, and he
+slipped off without a hitch of any kind. Arter the mate finished the
+readin&#8217;, he said, &#8216;Men, there&#8217;s a good man gone arter a long life of
+great usefulness. He were a sailor and a gentleman. I don&#8217;t think as
+we ought for to cry over sich a man, and I propose we giv&#8217; him three
+cheers and God bless him&#8217;; and heartier cheers was never giv&#8217; than we
+giv&#8217; that day, arter which all hands got dinner.&#8221;</p>
+
+<hr class="large" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="mdashMAS_HAS_COME" id="mdashMAS_HAS_COME"></a>&#8220;&mdash;&mdash;MAS HAS COME.&#8221;</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By Leonard Kip.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8258; <i>Overland Monthly, January, 1870.</i></p>
+
+<p class="n"><span style="float:left;font-size:40px;line-height:25px;padding-top:2px;padding-bottom:1px;">I</span>t was called Beacon Ledge fully fifty years before the present
+lighthouse had been built upon it. For it was said that long ago, when
+wrecking was a profitable trade along the coast, and goodly vessels
+were frequently, by false lights, decoyed to their destruction, there
+was no more favorable point for the exercise of that systematic
+villainy than this rocky, high-lifted bluff. Projecting three or four
+hundred feet into the sea, with a gradually curved, sweeping line, it
+formed, to be sure, upon the one side, a limited anchorage&mdash;safe
+enough for those who knew it; but, upon the other side, it looked upon
+a waste of shoal, dotted, here and there, at lowest tide, with craggy
+breakers, and, at high water, smooth, smiling, and deceitful, with the
+covered dangers. Here, then, upon certain dark and stormy nights, the
+flaming beacon of destruction <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>would glow brightly against the black
+sky, and wildly lighten up the cruel faces of those who stood by and
+piled on the fagots, while gazing eagerly out to sea to mark the
+effect of their evil machinations. Nor was it until some thirty years
+ago that the gangs of wretches were thoroughly broken up, and this,
+their favorite vantage-ground, wrested from them, and the tall, white
+lighthouse there securely founded&mdash;maintaining in mercy what had
+before been held as a blighting curse; lifting itself, like a nation&#8217;s
+warning finger, and with its calm, serene glow, pointing out the path
+of safety. Then, in the mouths of all the surrounding inhabitants,
+Beacon Ledge became known as Beacon Ledge Beacon, and so kept its
+name, in spite of tautological criticism, or of different and more
+formal christening, by Government authority.</p>
+
+<p>Still, there hung around the place the memories or traditions of past
+violence, shipwreck, and murder&mdash;partly true, perhaps, but, doubtless,
+generally false, having only a few grains of fact or probability
+mingled with all kinds of distorted fictions&mdash;the deeds of pirates
+being supplemented to those of mere wreckers; the imaginations of
+fishermen along the coast ever inventing plenteous horrors, and wild
+tales of buccaneering rovers, originally written for other localities,
+being now wilfully adopted and here located, until, at last, there was
+hardly a known crime which could not find its origin or counterpart at
+Beacon Ledge, and the whole neighboring shore became a melancholy
+storehouse of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>terrors, disaster, and distress. These tales being
+discovered to be very pleasing to most strangers, were carefully
+cultivated and enlarged upon by each interested denizen of the place;
+and to me, also, for awhile, they had a peculiar charm. I seldom grew
+tired of hearing some grizzled, tar-incrusted fisherman reel off his
+tissue of improbable abominations. For awhile, I say, since there
+came, at last, a day when I cared no longer for such bloody
+traditions, forgot the shadowy horrors that flitted about the spot,
+and only thought and cared for it as the place where I had met and
+loved dear little Jessie Barkstead.</p>
+
+<p>She was the only child of the lighthouse keeper. In a worldly point of
+view, therefore, was it wisely done that I should have set my
+affections upon her? Possibly not; and it is likely that, had I known
+the weakness of my mind, I would have shunned the danger from the very
+first. But I was gay and reckless in my poor self-complacency and
+deceitful assurance of inner strength; and long before I had fairly
+realized how rapidly I was drifting, I found myself whirling down the
+swift current, and was lost. Nor was it a marvel that this should have
+so happened. To one who sits aloof in his unromantic, distant home, it
+is an easy thing, indeed, to moralize about matters of inferior
+station and <i>m&eacute;salliance</i>; but I believe that few could have seen
+little Jessie, as she first appeared to me, and not have felt some
+secret inclination to give way before those subtile charms of beauty
+and manner <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>which invested her. Moreover, let it here be mentioned
+that she was not at all of humble birth or education. Old Barkstead
+was himself a gentleman by culture and station, and had once been the
+master of a gallant ship. In that important position he had been for
+many years a pleasant and popular officer; but at length, in an evil
+day, through some temporary weakness or neglect, he had lost his
+charge, and almost ruined his employers. The world&mdash;with what degree
+of truth cannot now be told&mdash;had charged the loss upon intoxication. A
+storm of obloquy and reproach arose. The man, bowed down with
+self-abasement and sensitiveness, had yielded to the blast, and
+attempted no defence; and, after awhile, obtaining, through some
+friendly influence, the custody of the Beacon Light, he had fled, with
+his child, to that obscurity, leaving no trace behind him, and caring
+only to pass the rest of his life in the quiet of the world&#8217;s
+forgetfulness.</p>
+
+<p>I was myself the occasional tenant of a lighthouse, for, during a few
+weeks of the summer, I had been visiting the Penguin Light, some four
+or five miles distant up the coast. It was a tall and far-reaching
+structure, standing upon a jutting point of rock&mdash;almost the duplicate
+of the Beacon Ledge; the two lights glimmering at each other across
+the little bay between, and only to be distinguished apart at night by
+the different periods of their revolutions. Penguin Light was in the
+keeping of old Barry Somers, a long-known and valued sailor-friend of
+mine, who, in past days, had taught me to swim, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>and sail a boat, and
+now seemed to regard his office more for the opportunity it gave of
+entertaining me than for its actual salaried value. Thither,
+therefore, I would often repair during the summer months, avoiding the
+usual crowded haunts, and giving preference to old Barry&#8217;s pleasant
+talk and my solitary rambles along the shore; occasionally running out
+to sea, that I might speak friendly pilots cruising in the distance;
+and now and then, by way of change and innocent attempt at usefulness,
+taking my turn at keeping up and watching over the safety of the
+lantern-lamps.</p>
+
+<p>It was during one of my lonely wanderings along the beach, when, with
+gun in hand, I made feeble and unsuccessful attempts against the lives
+of the merry little sand-pipers, that I first saw Jessie. She sat upon
+a rock, and was gazing out at sea. In her hand was a book, which she
+was not reading&mdash;who, indeed, could read collectedly, with that fresh
+breeze lifting such a pleasant array of dancing white-caps, and
+rolling inward those strong bodies of surf, which broke upon the shore
+with the ring of sportive Titans? Her handkerchief had fallen off her
+head, and her curls were flying wantonly in the breeze. I did not, for
+the moment, dream that she had any connection with the lighthouse, but
+rather that she was a chance city visitor at some inland
+country-house; and so I passed on, not venturing to speak with her.
+So, also, the next day, and the next&mdash;finding her always there when I
+passed, as though that particular hollow in the rock was her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>own
+especial, allotted refuge-place. At last, gaining courage from those
+frequent meetings, and, perhaps, from the half smile with which she
+began to greet my coming, I addressed her; and so the few words of
+salutation gradually lengthened into conversation, and, before we were
+well conscious of the fact, had ripened into terms of intimacy.</p>
+
+<p>How swiftly such matters sometimes proceed, when removed from the
+stiffness and ceremony of city life! A week only had passed, and I
+began to find that all my walks led in that one direction. Jessie was
+always at her place, with the uncompleted book in her hands; and I,
+going no farther, would seat myself beside her, throw down my useless
+gun, let the poor sand-pipers go undismayed, and so prepare for the
+comfortable, pleasant conversation of the morning. It was no
+unattractive pastime, indeed, to dispose the dry sea-weed for her
+seat; and then, placing my head upon another pile, remain half
+reclined at her feet, listening to her lively talk, and pretending to
+look out upon the blue waves, when, all the while, I was stealthily
+gazing into the deeper blue of her eyes. Nor, when I heard her
+story&mdash;or, so much of it as at first she deigned to tell me&mdash;did I
+hold her in less respect. The daughter of the lighthouse, indeed! Why,
+truly, this should matter nothing at all to me. What interest could I
+have in her past or present associations, or how could they, in any
+way, detract from her own native grace and loveliness? Were her eyes
+less bright, or was her conversation less <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>cheery, or were her
+attitudes less picturesque and pleasing, because old Captain
+Barkstead, instead of still sailing a fleet merchantman, now mopingly
+cleaned his reflectors, and, when strangers came, hid himself in the
+lantern? Moreover, had she not brought with her from her former home,
+wherever that might be, a wit, and intellect, and intelligence which
+might adorn any position? What more could be needful in promotion of a
+quiet sea-side flirtation? In a week or ten days I should go away, and
+no longer see her. I should carry off with me the memories of a very
+pleasant face, that had always brightened up whenever I came near; and
+then, as, after awhile, new forms and scenes came between, I would, of
+course, forget her. For a time, she might possibly look out longingly
+after my return, and, finding that I did not come back, might&mdash;well,
+not exactly lose memory of me, I hoped. It was to be desired, perhaps,
+that a few thoughts of me would always tinge her future life, I argued
+with something of man&#8217;s selfishness. I would not, indeed, that she
+should make herself miserable about me; but if, when her face had
+faded from my thoughts, some little record of myself should pleasantly
+remain with her, and now and then bring a transitory pang of musing
+regret, who should say nay?</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, in time, I went away. I did not steal off without farewell.
+That would have been but sorry recompense for the many cheery hours
+she had given me. But, taking her hand in mine, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>I gave to her my
+heartfelt thanks for all the pleasant past, and my cordial wishes for
+the future. I did not know that I should ever meet her again, I said.
+I hoped, however, that she would not too soon forget me. It was in my
+heart to utter more tender and sentimental words than I had any right
+to use, but I repressed the inclination. I cherished, too a secret
+hope that she would show some sorrow for my departure; but, if she
+felt any at all, she did not allow her expression, or her color, to
+betray her. With quiet self-possession, yet with a certain interest,
+too&mdash;as when one gives up a pleasant, valued friend&mdash;she bade me
+adieu; and so, lifting from her feet the ever-harmless gun, I passed
+away, round the border of the little bay, and returned to the city.</p>
+
+<p>There, however, somewhat to my surprise, I failed to forget her; and
+wherever I went, the image of that light, graceful form, seated upon
+the rock, began to obtrude itself upon my thoughts. Of course, it was
+only a fleeting impression, I reasoned with myself, and would soon
+disappear again, as newer scenes and faces forced themselves upon me;
+and I plunged rather more wildly than usual into society. But the
+proposed remedy did not have its due effect. In fact, it happened that
+the routine of gayety and formality seemed, by contrast, to aid the
+former impressions, making them seem more real and life-like than
+ever. It could not be that I was falling in love! But yet I could not
+fail to confess a strange interest; and, while <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>knowing that I was in
+danger, was content to let myself drift whither the current might
+carry me.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I will see her once more. There was something I forgot to tell her
+when we parted last,&#8221; I said to myself, trying in vain to establish
+and believe in a transparent self-deceit. &#8220;It was about a book, or
+something. It weighs upon my mind that she should deem me neglectful
+of her wishes. Once more, therefore, and then&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Where away, so late in the autumn?&#8221; inquired a friend, who saw me
+starting out.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Down the bay, blue-fishing!&#8221; I exclaimed. &#8220;Just the real time for
+it.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah? Well, good-by, then! Rather too cold sport for me, though!&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, I saw Jessie again&mdash;and yet again after that. Why should I
+not confess it?&mdash;or, after what I have already told, what is there
+left for me to confess, at all? For now, at last, I began to
+acknowledge to myself that it was not mere friendship or esteem I
+felt, but, rather, the more overpowering passion of real love. Gone,
+like a thin veil of vapor, were all my sophistries about a limited
+Platonic interest; my dread of incongruous association; my resolves
+against possible rashnesses; my fear of the world or its senseless
+gossip; my prudence, or my self-restraint! These all seemed to vanish
+in a day; and, yielding myself, slavishly, a willing captive to bright
+eyes and silvery tones, upon one fine morning I passed the Rubicon of
+safety, and offered her my hand <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>and heart. But, to my sore dismay,
+she only softly shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;You do not love me, then?&#8221; I murmured. I spoke not merely with sorrow
+and disappointment, but with something of wounded pride&mdash;feeling
+mortified that she had not at once accepted my devotion. Certainly, it
+had seemed to me, all along, that I was not disagreeable to her; and
+there was no doubt that in her manner, at least, she had always
+cordially welcomed my approach, and taken pleasure in my company.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I do not know&mdash;I hardly yet can tell!&#8221; she faintly said, drawing her
+hand from mine. &#8220;To me, you are my best and dearest friend; perhaps,
+the only one whom I can really call my friend. I know how glad I
+always feel when you come hither; how lonely I am while you stay away.
+But this I do not think is love&mdash;the real, true love which I should
+wish to feel.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But can it never be?&#8221; I pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How can I tell? It might come to that, at last; and yet&mdash;&#8221; She
+ceased, and there came over her face a strange, dead look at the sea
+before her&mdash;a straining gaze, as though she would fix her eyes far
+beyond, in another hemisphere, oblivious of the present.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yet tell me, Jessie, have I a rival? This, at least, you might let me
+know. I will not go further, nor will I ask his name.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>For a moment she did not answer: still sitting, with that strange,
+rapt, straining gaze, and with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>an unconscious, mechanical motion,
+rolling the little sand pebbles down the side of the rock.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;There was one,&#8221; she said, at length. &#8220;I hardly know how to tell you
+about it. I believe that I cared for him, and yet I never told him so;
+nor did he ever tell me that he loved or cared for me, and yet, at the
+time, I thought that he did. It was some time ago&mdash;a very long time,
+it often seems to me; nor do I suppose that he and I will ever meet
+again. And now you know almost as much about it as I do myself,&#8221; she
+continued, turning more fully toward me. &#8220;Or what more can I say?
+There was no pledge given on either side&mdash;no uttered words&mdash;and, of
+course, it has all gone by. But now and then, when I think about it, I
+feel regret; and it seems to me as though it were a different and
+stronger feeling than that which I have for you. Whether I am mistaken
+in my feelings, or how or what I really think, perhaps I cannot well
+tell; I am only a simple girl, after all, and know so very little
+about love, or what love truly is.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Yet, Jessie dear,&#8221; I pleaded, &#8220;if you look upon that old matter as
+buried and gone&mdash;which, doubtless, it must be&mdash;why think longer about
+it, instead of turning to the new and truer affection which now I
+offer you? Believe me, you are letting your mind dwell merely upon a
+dream of the past&mdash;one of those vain fancies of girlhood, which,
+though for the time they may control the mind, have no real, vital
+activity or force.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;It may be so,&#8221; she said, in a sort of saddened, half-regretful tone.
+&#8220;Indeed, it must be so; and it might be that when the influence has
+passed away, I may find that I have cared for you better than I have
+imagined. I know that, even now, you seem dear to me as a friend, and
+that you are kind to me, making me always happy at your coming; yet,
+at the same time, I think that there is something wanting in it
+all&mdash;something which is not love. You see that I am very plain with
+you. Better, then, to leave me; is it not so? For I cannot now give
+you my heart; nor do I know whether, in the future, I can better do
+so; and it is not right that I should keep you at my side, hoping or
+expecting what, after all, may never come.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nay, I will not leave you for all that, my Jessie,&#8221; I said,
+impulsively. &#8220;I will still remain at your side, and trust even to the
+mere chance that, at some future period, you may relent.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Therefore, dropping the subject for that time, I remained, and sought,
+by new kindnesses and attentions, to win some final increase of her
+favor toward me, but feeling, at the same time, a little sore and
+angry with myself. For, how wretchedly was I now maintaining that
+proper independence of spirit, which I had always insisted even the
+most blinded and devoted of lovers should feel! Had it not been my
+cherished theory that no man should surrender his freedom of heart
+without obtaining in return the utmost, unlimited, and unselfish
+devotion? Yet, here I was giving up my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>whole soul to a blind passion,
+rendered more and more absorbing, doubtless, by the opposition I
+experienced, and for response I found myself willing to be content
+with even the cinders of a former and only half-dead affection;
+trusting, as so many men have vainly trusted, that by earnest care and
+assiduity, I might, at last, re-illume the fading spark, and make its
+new brightness glow for me.</p>
+
+<p>So passed the autumn, during which I made frequent journeys between
+coast and city; striving, at times, with the cares of business to
+drive her image from my mind, and finding myself continually drawn
+back again to that quiet nook which, gifted with her presence, had
+become to me the brightest and only happy spot on earth. These
+frequent departures, so contrary to my usual habit, soon began to
+excite the inquiries and surmises of my friends. Fishing and shooting
+protracted into the season so far as almost to touch the edge of the
+winter, no longer served as satisfactory excuses for my absences; and
+there were some among my friends, who, in their speculations, came
+very near the truth, and hinted suspicions of some rustic passion. But
+still, turning off their insinuations with a laugh, I kept my
+secret&mdash;holding it the more carefully and earnestly, as I now began to
+see hope dawning for me in the future.</p>
+
+<p>For now, at last, it seemed as if I was about to prosper in my suit.
+Each time that I came, Jessie appeared yet more pleased to see
+me&mdash;more willing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>to give me that attractive confidence which can only
+exist in full perfection between acknowledged lovers; less disposed to
+analyze her mind&#8217;s emotion with any critical severity, or speculate
+whether this or that feeling had, or had not, passed the line between
+friendship and love; more ready, at times, to surrender the struggle
+and self-examination, confess herself vanquished, and yield up her
+whole heart to my keeping. But not quite yet.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;A little longer,&#8221; she pleaded. &#8220;Let me feel somewhat more sure of
+myself before&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And how much longer, then, Jessie?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Till Christmas, George. When Christmas comes, I will either be all
+your own, or will send you away forever. Will not that do?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;It must, perforce, if I cannot gain better terms,&#8221; I answered; and I
+returned once more to my city life. It was my fixed intention to
+remain there resolutely until the Christmas morning itself had come;
+but at last, unable to maintain the suspense, I stole back to the
+beach once more. It was now only two days from the time. The air was
+colder, of course, so that Jessie no longer took her place outside
+upon the rock; but we could sit and talk in the shelter of the
+lighthouse door, undisturbed by old Barkstead, who usually fretted and
+moped out of sight, about half way up the shaft.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Only two days more, dear Jessie,&#8221; I said, &#8220;and then&mdash; Will it be well
+with me, do you think?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I think&mdash;I begin to think it will be well,&#8221; she said, looking away.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Then, if so you think, why should you longer delay your choice?&#8221; I
+pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Nay, George, it is only two days more. Let it, then, remain as first
+we said, and we shall be the better satisfied at having held out to
+the proper end.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Gaining nothing more from her, but feeling, in my own mind, well
+assured of ultimate success, I prepared to depart. Not to return to
+the city, indeed, for that would scarcely be worth while for such a
+little interval&mdash;but to the Penguin Light, where Barry Somers, as
+usual, had a place ready for me. But, as I was leaving, a sudden idea
+struck me&mdash;a wild, foolish fancy, it might be&mdash;yet, coming, as it did,
+with a certain investiture of originality, it fastened itself firmly
+and tenaciously upon me, and with animation I returned upon my steps.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Listen, dear Jessie!&#8221; I said. &#8220;Until Christmas morning, therefore, I
+will not see you again, for I do not wish thus vainly to renew my
+pleadings, and it will be pleasanter to know that when I meet you once
+more, it will be with sweet confession on your lips, and the
+permission to look upon you thenceforward as my own. But still, while
+we are thus separated, can we not commune together?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;How, George?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;With the lights, dear Jessie. See here, now! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>Mark how easily we can
+arrange our signalling, so that, across the intervening miles, we can
+flash our secret intelligence, and no one but ourselves be the wiser!
+Look!&mdash;I will now write you out some signs, and with them, at night,
+we will hold our intercourse. This very evening I will control the
+lamps at Penguin Light, and you shall read what I will therewith tell
+you. To-morrow you will answer me from here; and I, in turn, will
+decipher your sweet words. Will not that be a rare, as well as
+pleasant correspondence?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>At the suggestion, her eyes brightened up with animated excitement,
+and at once she prepared to second my plan. How, indeed, could a young
+girl help approving of such a novel conception? To talk with
+beacon-lights across five miles of foaming, heaving waters, when all
+around was dark and dreary!&mdash;to flash from one sympathetic heart to
+another the glowing signals of intelligence comprehended by no other
+persons!&mdash;would not that be an achievement which would not only give
+pleasure in the actual present performance of it, but also in the
+recollection of it throughout future years? So, sitting down again,
+she eagerly listened to me, while I, drawing a paper from my pocket,
+noted down the requisite tokens, something after the usual signs
+employed in ordinary telegraphy&mdash;short and simple&mdash;and left them in
+her possession. I saw at once that she comprehended the principle; so,
+feeling no doubt that she would well perform <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>her part, I departed,
+reading, in her pleased consciousness of sharing that novel secret
+with me, such probable indications of affection, that, for the moment,
+I could scarcely resist once more throwing myself upon her pity, and
+asking instant assurance of my happiness.</p>
+
+<p>But I forbore. Were I now to win her, in anticipation of that
+predetermined Christmas-day, might it not take something from the zest
+of the coming midnight correspondence?</p>
+
+<p>So, controlling myself, I returned to Penguin Light. I had been a
+little troubled with the idea that, perhaps, I might not be able to
+manage the matter, after all; but, almost to my joy, I found old Barry
+complaining of his rheumatism, hobbling about, and looking wrathfully
+up the winding stairs, in surly deprecation of his approaching ascent.
+Upon which I seized the favorable opportunity, and, while relieving
+him, forwarded my own views.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Let it alone for this night, Barry. Do you stay down here and make
+yourself comfortable, and I will keep watch in the lantern, and tend
+the lights.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;And can you keep awake, Georgy, my boy, do you think?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Of course I can, Barry.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>Whereupon, for sole answer, Barry stumped away into the closet
+below&mdash;which he called his room&mdash;laid himself carefully away upon his
+old blankets, and I mounted to the lantern. There&mdash;the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>hour of
+sundown having come&mdash;I lighted the lamps, and awaited my time. That
+was still some hours off; I was to do nothing until midnight.
+Meanwhile, I laid myself down to take a nap. I had promised
+watchfulness, but it was hardly necessary in the beginning of the
+night. The wicks were then fresh, and it was not likely that any
+accident could happen. It was only toward the end of the night, when
+the wicks might become incrusted or the reflectors dimmed, that
+especial care was needed.</p>
+
+<p>I awoke again about midnight, the hour appointed for the commencement
+of my feat. The sky had clouded over, and not a star was to be seen.
+All the better, indeed, for the experiment; for now there was no light
+to be seen in any direction, except where down the coast glimmered the
+Beacon Ledge Beacon&mdash;now faintly coming around the side, then glowing
+for a second like the mouth of a distant furnace, as its full focus of
+reflectors was pointed directly at me, then fading away, and so, for
+an instant, entirely disappearing, as it turned slowly toward the
+south. With the thick bank of clouds had come a cold wind from the
+north, premonitory of an approaching storm, though it might be days
+before it reached us&mdash;the only change to be now noted being the
+somewhat heavier swell of the surf, rolling up with a dull, sullen
+roar along the curve of the rock-bound shore.</p>
+
+<p>I prepared for action. As I sat in the lantern, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>the great brazen
+frame of polished reflectors swung around, once in each minute, within
+a few inches of the side. Beneath was the projecting handle of a
+crank, or lever, by pressing upon which the revolution could be
+instantly arrested. Stooping down, I could sit at ease, with my head
+clear from any contact with the lamps, and in that position could have
+the lever-handle within easy reach.</p>
+
+<p>Waiting for a moment until the reflectors pointed directly toward
+Beacon Ledge, I pressed upon the crank, and thereby suspended the
+revolution. Thus inert and motionless I held the machinery for a full
+minute, and then, lifting the rod, allowed the circuit to recommence,
+and gazed anxiously toward the other lighthouse. For a moment, no
+response; but then, as its reflectors came slowly around and pointed
+toward me, they, too, ceased in their motion for a full minute. With
+that my heart exulted. My signal for conversation had been seen and
+answered. So far, all went satisfactorily, and there was nothing left
+but to commence the main business of the night.</p>
+
+<p>What should I talk to Jessie about? I could not frame any lengthy
+sentences, indeed&mdash;for that, time and patience would not suffice. Nor
+could I tell her any especial piece of news: all such matters had
+already been discussed between us. Nor did it seem any thing but
+ridiculous to repeat, in such a labored manner, any of the ordinary
+commonplaces about health, or the time, or weather. The most I could
+do, in fact, would be <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>to telegraph some short and simple idea,
+expressive of my affection for her, and of my ardent faith in its
+coming realization. This she would comprehend, and, like a proverb, it
+would tell, in brief, a whole long story.</p>
+
+<p>Watching until the reflectors again came round, I seized the lever,
+held the machinery in suspense for a whole minute, and then set it
+free again. Another circuit, and this time I arrested the motion for
+only fifteen seconds. A third, and here again a suspension of a whole
+minute. In this way, by putting the three circuits together, I had
+contrived to spell out the letter C&mdash;as in a telegraph office the
+operator would write a letter, though probably not the same one, with
+a long, a short, and a long scratch upon the paper slip.</p>
+
+<p>Again: and now I let the reflectors remain stationary, first, for a
+minute, then twice for fifteen seconds each. This&mdash;a long, and two
+short arrestations&mdash;spelled the letter H. So, little by little, I
+wrote out with the lighthouse flash against the dark sky the simple
+sentence,</p>
+
+<p class="center">&#8220;<i>Christmas is coming.</i>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>It was plain and expressive. It spoke to Jessie of the approaching
+day, when she should make her long-deferred decision, and when I so
+ardently anticipated that she would be mine. It reminded her that the
+time was now only a few hours distant. It told her that even those few
+hours were almost <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>too long for me to wait. It was a short message,
+indeed, but the difficulty of thus spelling it out, letter by letter,
+made it long enough. Already, ere I had finished, my arm, as well as
+my attention, was fatigued; and when, at last, I made the long signal
+of conclusion, and gained, in reply, the token that I had been
+comprehended, I felt that I had done enough for one night, at least.</p>
+
+<p>Then, remaining awake, with some difficulty, until morning came, I put
+out the lights, and went down to see after old Barry. He was better;
+his rheumatism had not troubled him as much as he had feared; he would
+get up, and himself trim the lights for the coming night, and I had
+better lie down and rest. Which I gladly did, for I was tired, indeed,
+and began to have a suspicion that, though lighthouse telegraphy might
+be a pleasant excitement for once, it was inferior, as a steady means
+of communication, to the regularly established mails. So, I slept the
+sleep of the weary, if not of the just; and the morning was far
+advanced when I awoke.</p>
+
+<p>The new day was not stormy, as I had partly anticipated it would be,
+nor yet was it clear and beautiful. The gale seemed slowly coming on,
+but had not quite reached us. The sky was thick with scudding clouds,
+racing wildly from north to south; the air was cold and cheerless; the
+sea rolled in with a more powerful swell than usual, breaking along
+the shore with a boom like that of heavy artillery. The gulls flew to
+and fro, screaming <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>and unsettled; a few coasting schooners,
+apprehensive of mischief, had put into the land-locked bay and there
+lay at anchor, awaiting better weather; and in one place, the
+fishermen were dragging their boats away back to the foot of the
+bluff, so as to avoid the still heavier swell which must erelong come.
+Yet, for all that, the storm had not commenced, and I could easily
+have walked over to Beacon Ledge and made my daily visit.</p>
+
+<p>But still I forbore. I had already told Jessie that I should not see
+her again until I came to hear the decision of my fate, and I resolved
+that I would be firm. Would it not, beside, spoil the whole romance of
+our midnight correspondence were I to visit her again so soon? I had
+signalled a greeting to her. What a lowering of sentiment it would be
+if now I were to obtain her response in commonplace manner, by mere
+word of mouth, instead of by the bright sheen of the lighthouse
+itself! Nay, that would never do. So, killing the heavy hours as best
+I could, I loitered up and down the beach, shooting at the gulls as
+ineffectually as I had before shot at the sand-pipers; watching the
+course of a few frightened vessels, which still continued to make for
+that little harbor of refuge; and, like a child, making sand-forts on
+the beach, for the pleasure of seeing them washed away again by the
+next heavy swell.</p>
+
+<p>Night came at last; and, as before, I volunteered to relieve Barry of
+the care of the lamps, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>allow him additional opportunity to nurse
+his rheumatism. As before, he made some feeble show of hesitation, by
+way of reconciling his mind to the proffered rest, and then readily
+succumbed.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Be it so, Georgy, my boy,&#8221; he said. &#8220;That is, if you are not already
+too tired. But I don&#8217;t feel as bad now as last night, and may yet
+crawl up and relieve you.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Take it easy, Barry,&#8221; I said. &#8220;It is not much trouble for me. I could
+stand it this fashion for a week.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With that I left him alone in his snuggery, and climbed the stairs to
+the top. As upon the previous evening, I lighted the lamps, set the
+machine in motion, and then curled myself down in a corner of the
+floor to rest till midnight. I did not at once fall asleep, however.
+The gale, which had been preparing for the last thirty hours, now
+began to come in force, disturbing me with the sound of the
+wind&mdash;whistling shrilly through every crack and crevice&mdash;while the
+lighthouse itself constantly trembled with the blast. Even at that
+height, I could hear the sullen dash of the breakers against the
+shore; and once I could see, by the tremulous movement of lights far
+out to the eastward, that a large steamer was passing, and was
+laboring toilsomely with a more than usually heavy sea. She was in no
+danger, however, and gradually passed away from my line of vision.
+Then, at last, I fell asleep, though not into the soft, quiet slumber
+which I usually enjoyed. Even in my dreams the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>tempest followed me,
+filling my mind with distorted imaginings. The old stories, which I
+had so often heard and of late had forgotten, about pirates, and
+wrecks, and wreckers, and cruelties perpetrated upon the beach, now
+seemed to take actual life and reality. I could see the dismasted
+vessels struggling among the breakers, and the rows of hard, fierce,
+expectant faces lining the shore, and awaiting the turning up of the
+dead bodies. I was a dead body myself, even, and was being washed up
+on the beach, already drowned beyond hope of resuscitation, and yet
+strangely conscious of all that went on around me. A hand was placed
+roughly upon me, as I lay motionless upon the sand. Then, gaining new
+life, I cried aloud, and, waking, found old Barry leaning over me, and
+shaking me into consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Look over yonder, Georgy, my boy, at the Beacon Point,&#8221; he said. &#8220;See
+how strangely the lights are acting. What do you make of it all?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>I looked, and saw that the reflectors were pointing, motionless,
+toward me&mdash;resting there for a full minute; then they swept around
+slowly in their accustomed course, and again paused for a minute.
+Thereby I deciphered the letter M, and started into full and instant
+animation. I had, of course, overslept myself, and thereby, probably,
+lost a portion of Jessie&#8217;s dear message. How much of it, indeed?</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What is the hour, Barry?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Half-past twelve,&#8221; he said. &#8220;But what do <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>you make of yonder
+business? Is it some accident to the works, do you think?&mdash;or has old
+Barkstead gone on a spree again, as they say he once did, and is now
+playing fast and loose with the lights?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>While he had been speaking, new revolutions, broken, by longer or
+shorter pauses, had succeeded; and I deciphered the additional letters
+A and S.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Whatever it may be, Barry,&#8221; I then answered&mdash;forcing myself to attend
+to him, and feeling a little guilty for being obliged to keep the
+mysterious secret from him&mdash;&#8220;don&#8217;t you see that nothing can be done
+about it, now? Go, therefore, to bed again. This cold lantern is no
+place for you to remain in. And to-morrow, bright and early, I will go
+out myself, and ascertain what may be the matter.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>With that, I gently pushed Barry down the first two or three steps,
+and heard him go grumbling and puffing the rest of the way to his own
+nook. Meanwhile, the bright signalling from Beacon Point went
+on&mdash;letter after letter&mdash;until, at last, I read out the whole
+sentence:</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>&#8220;&mdash;&mdash;mas has come.</i>&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Christmas has come!&#8221; This, of course, was the completion of the
+message; for it was not now difficult to supply those letters which,
+through my tardy awakening, I had missed. My heart <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>bounded high with
+joy and exultation. Sanguinely as I had anticipated a favorable
+verdict at Jessie&#8217;s hands, my utmost hopes had never asked for such a
+frank and instant admission of her preference as this. To be reminded,
+at the very first stroke of the midnight hour, that the important day
+for decision had arrived: what was this but being told that the day
+should bring its blessing with it?&mdash;that Jessie herself had awaited
+its approach as eagerly as I had, feeling as acutely the delay?&mdash;that
+now there should be no more disguise or misconstruction between us?
+Christmas had come! It was, indeed, a frank and noble response to my
+message of the night before, telling me that now, at last, she had
+surrendered her heart to my safe-keeping. Had it been possible, I
+would have run over at once to Beacon Ledge, and pressed her to my
+heart. But, of course, not the tempest merely forbade. I must wait
+until the more suitable time of morning, still many hours off.
+Therefore, composing myself as well as possible for quiet waiting, I
+sat, during the remainder of the night, musing over my pleasant
+prospects, and watching anxiously for the first ray of morning.</p>
+
+<p>It came at last&mdash;later than usual, for the tempest had not yet abated,
+and the approach of day was to be noted rather by the gradual
+lightening of the atmosphere, than by any gleam of eastern dawn. Then
+I extinguished the lights, stopped the machinery, and descended to old
+Barry.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p><p>&#8220;I will now cross over to the Beacon Ledge,&#8221; I said, &#8220;and find out
+what was the matter last night.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Without your breakfast, boy?&#8221; growled the old man.</p>
+
+<p>But what did I care for breakfast! My heart was too full of joy to
+care for any carnal needs; and, therefore, with some lame excuse for
+my hurry, and a guilty sense of continued deception weighing upon my
+mind, I set off, promising a speedy return. The task that I had set
+myself was no trifle, and I could not wonder at the solemn shake of
+the head with which Barry watched my departure. The tempest was at its
+height, and a blinding sheet of rain and ocean-spray drove wildly into
+my face at each step. The breakers dashed furiously upon the beach&mdash;so
+furiously, indeed, that the usual route along the hard-pressed sand
+had become impassable, and I was obliged to take a higher path through
+the loose, yielding pebbles. But I persevered bravely and
+determinedly, though so sorely fettered in my steps, and buffeted in
+my face, and, after nearly two hours, reached the other lighthouse.</p>
+
+<p>I entered without ceremony, and, in the angle of the first flight of
+stairs&mdash;our usual trysting-place ever since the lateness of the season
+had denied us the rock by the sea-side&mdash;I found dear Jessie. But she
+was not alone. Beside her, and too near, I thought, sat a
+pleasant-faced young man, who, at my approach, arose, and with a
+miserably counterfeited <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>affectation of indifference, sauntered away.
+Jessie also arose, and with whitened face, came forward.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Why are you here?&#8221; she murmured. &#8220;Did I not signal it all to you, so
+that you might know the truth, and spare both yourself and me this
+meeting?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;What do you mean?&#8221; I gasped.</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Did you not understand me, after all, kind friend? You know, indeed,
+that I once told you how I had loved another. I had no expectation of
+seeing him again, it is true. He was far away with his vessel when we
+departed from our little village, leaving, as you know, not a trace
+behind us; and, therefore, there was no way in which the secret of our
+present retreat could be learned by any one. Nor could I write to him
+and tell him, for he had not yet spoken to me of love, and I did not
+know but what he would choose, in the end, to forget me. But Fate,
+after all, is sometimes kind. Searching for me, without any trace to
+guide him, he had almost despaired, when, the night before this last,
+coming in from sea, he saw the Penguin Light; and noticing how, while
+you were signalling to me, at times it stopped for a moment, he
+thought it was the Upper Roadstead Light, and so ran in and made this
+little harbor by mistake. Thereby it was that we have chanced to meet
+again.&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;But, Jessie, you signalled to me that&mdash;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I signalled that Thomas had come. Did you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span>not comprehend? Or can it
+be that I had never happened to mention his name to you?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;Ah!&#8221; I feebly exclaimed, the light breaking in upon me; &#8220;Thomas was
+the word, then, was it? I thought&mdash;but no matter now for my thoughts.
+Well, farewell, Jessie. There can be no good word or wish that any one
+may give you that will not always be uttered twofold from my heart.
+You know it, kind friend, do you not?&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&#8220;I know it, George, indeed,&#8221; she said.</p>
+
+<p>And, tearing myself from her, I returned to city life. There I gave
+myself once more up to business and its cares, in hopes of drowning my
+disappointment; and now, after long months of sad regret, I have
+nearly succeeded, and have become myself again. But, at times, I lie
+awake in the middle of the night and listen to the city&#8217;s roar, and in
+the sound I seem to hear once more the play of breakers on the shore
+at Beacon Ledge; and then I think, with sadness, how different might
+have been my lot, had I not so foolishly determined to utter, with the
+lighthouse lamps, and so many miles across, those words of greeting
+which should have been softly whispered instead, by lowly pleading
+lips, into closely attentive, willing ears.</p>
+
+<hr class="large" />
+<h3><span class="smcap">Transcriber&#8217;s Note:</span></h3>
+
+<p>Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters&#8217; errors; otherwise
+every effort has been made to remain true to the authors&#8217; words and
+intent.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Stories by American Authors, Volume 9, by Various
+
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+Project Gutenberg's Stories by American Authors, Volume 9, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Stories by American Authors, Volume 9
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: February 6, 2010 [EBook #31194]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES--AMERICAN AUTHORS, VOL 9 ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by D Alexander, Juliet Sutherland and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Stories by American Authors
+
+VOLUME IX
+
+
+ _MARSE CHAN_
+ BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE
+
+ _MR. BIXBY'S CHRISTMAS VISITOR_
+ BY CHARLES S. GAGE
+
+ _ELI_
+ BY C. H. WHITE
+
+ _YOUNG STRONG OF "THE CLARION"_
+ BY MILICENT WASHBURN SHINN
+
+ _HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP_
+ BY CAPTAIN ROLAND T. COFFIN
+
+ "----_MAS HAS COME_"
+ BY LEONARD KIP
+
+ NEW YORK
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+ 1896
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1885, BY
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+
+
+
+
+_The Stories in this Volume are protected by copyright, and are
+printed here by authority of the authors or their representatives._
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Thos. N. Page]
+
+
+
+
+MARSE CHAN.
+
+A TALE OF OLD VIRGINIA.
+
+BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE.
+
+_Century Magazine April, 1884._
+
+
+One afternoon, in the autumn of 1872, I was riding leisurely down
+the sandy road that winds along the top of the water-shed between
+two of the smaller rivers of eastern Virginia. The road I was
+travelling, following "the ridge" for miles, had just struck me as
+most significant of the character of the race whose only avenue of
+communication with the outside world it had formerly been. Their once
+splendid mansions, now fast falling to decay, appeared to view from
+time to time, set back far from the road, in proud seclusion among
+groves of oak and hickory now scarlet and gold with the early frost.
+Distance was nothing to this people; time was of no consequence to
+them. They desired but a level path in life, and that they had,
+though the way was longer and the outer world strode by them as they
+dreamed.
+
+I was aroused from my reflections by hearing some one ahead of me
+calling, "Heah!--heah-whoo-oop, heah!"
+
+Turning the curve in the road, I saw just before me a negro standing,
+with a hoe and a watering-pot in his hand. He had evidently just
+gotten over the "worm-fence" into the road, out of the path which led
+zigzag across the "old field" and was lost to sight in the dense
+growth of sassafras. When I rode up, he was looking anxiously back
+down this path for his dog. So engrossed was he that he did not even
+hear my horse, and I reined in to wait until he should turn around and
+satisfy my curiosity as to the handsome old place half a mile off from
+the road.
+
+The numerous out-buildings and the large barns and stables told that
+it had once been the seat of wealth, and the wild waste of sassafras
+that covered the broad fields gave it an air of desolation that
+greatly excited my interest. Entirely oblivious of my proximity, the
+negro went on calling, "Whoo-oop, heah!" until along the path, walking
+very slowly and with great dignity, appeared a noble-looking old
+orange and white setter, gray with age, and corpulent with excessive
+feeding. As soon as he came in sight, his master began:
+
+"Yes, dat you! You gittin' deaf as well as bline, I s'pose! Kyarnt
+heah me callin', I reckon? Whyn't yo' come on, dawg?"
+
+The setter sauntered slowly up to the fence and stopped without even
+deigning a look at the speaker, who immediately proceeded to take the
+rails down, talking meanwhile:
+
+"Now, I got to pull down de gap, I s'pose! Yo' so sp'ilt yo' kyahn'
+hardly walk. Jes' ez able to git over it as I is! Jes' like white
+folks--t'ink 'cuz you's white and I's black, I got to wait on yo' all
+de time. Ne'm mine, I ain' gwi' do it!"
+
+The fence having been pulled down sufficiently low to suit his
+dogship, he marched sedately through, and, with a hardly perceptible
+lateral movement of his tail, walked on down the road. Putting up the
+rails carefully, the negro turned and saw me.
+
+"Sarvent, marster," he said, taking his hat off. Then, as if
+apologetically for having permitted a stranger to witness what was
+merely a family affair, he added: "He know I don' mean nothin' by what
+I sez. He's Marse Chan's dawg, an' he's so ole he kyahn git long no
+pearter. He know I'se jes' prodjickin' wid 'im."
+
+"Who is Marse Chan?" I asked; "and whose place is that over there--and
+the one a mile or two back--the place with the big gate and the carved
+stone pillars?"
+
+"Marse Chan," said the darkey, "he's Marse Channin'--my young marster;
+an' dem places--dis one's Weall's, an' de one back dyar wid de rock
+gate-pos's is ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. Dey don' nobody live dyar
+now, 'cep' niggers. Arfter de war some one or nudder bought our place,
+but his name done kind o' slipped me. I nuvver hearn on 'im befo'; I
+think dey's half-strainers. I don' ax none on 'em no odds. I lives
+down de road heah, a little piece, an' I jes' steps down of a evenin'
+and looks arfter de graves."
+
+"Well, where is Marse Chan?" I asked.
+
+"Hi! don' you know? Marse Chan, he went in de army. I wuz wid 'im. Yo'
+know he warn' gwine an' lef' Sam."
+
+"Will you tell me all about it?" I said, dismounting.
+
+Instantly, and as if by instinct, the darkey stepped forward and took
+my bridle. I demurred a little; but with a bow that would have honored
+old Sir Roger, he shortened the reins, and taking my horse from me,
+led him along.
+
+"Now tell me about Marse Chan," I said.
+
+"Lawd, marster, hit's so long ago, I'd a'most forgit all about it, ef
+I hedn' been wid him ever sence he wuz born. Ez 'tis, I remembers it
+jes' like 'twuz yistiddy. Yo' know Marse Chan an' me--we wuz boys
+togedder. I wuz older'n he wuz, jes' de same ez he wuz whiter'n me. I
+wuz born plantin' corn time, de spring arfter big Jim an' de six
+steers got washed away at de upper ford right down dyar b'low de
+quarters ez he wuz a bringin' de Chris'mas things home; an' Marse
+Chan, he warn' born tell mos' to der harves' arfter my sister Nancy
+married Cun'l Chahmb'lin's Torm, 'bout eight years arfterwards.
+
+"Well, when Marse Chan wuz born dey wuz de grettes' doin's at home you
+ever did see. De folks all hed holiday, jes' like in de Chris'mas. Ole
+marster (we didn' call 'im _ole_ marster tell arfter Marse Chan wuz
+born--befo' dat he wuz jes' de marster, so)--well, ole marster, his
+face fyar shine wid pleasure, an' all de folks wuz mighty glad, too,
+'cause dey all loved ole marster, and aldo' dey did step aroun' right
+peart when ole marster wuz lookin' at 'em, dyar warn' nyar han' on de
+place but what, ef he wanted anythin', would walk up to de back poach,
+an' say he warn' to see de marster. An' ev'ybody wuz talkin' 'bout de
+young marster, an' de maids an' de wimmens 'bout de kitchen wuz sayin'
+how 'twuz de purties' chile dey ever see; an' at dinner-time de mens
+(all on 'em hed holiday) come roun' de poach an' ax how de missis an'
+de young marster wuz, an' ole marster come out on de poach an' smile
+wus'n a 'possum, an' sez, 'Thankee! Bofe doin' fust rate, boys;' an'
+den he stepped back in de house, sort o' laughin' to hisse'f, an' in a
+minute he come out ag'in wid de baby in he arms, all wrapped up in
+flannens an' things, an' sez, 'Heah he is, boys.' All de folks den,
+dey went up on de poach to look at 'im, drappin' dey hats on de steps,
+an' scrapin' dey feets ez dey went up. An' pres'n'y ole marster,
+lookin' down at we all chil'en all packed togedder down deah like a
+parecel o' sheep-burrs, cotch sight o' _me_ (he knowed my name, 'cause
+I use' to hole he hoss fur 'im sometimes; but he didn' know all de
+chil'en by name, dey wuz so many on 'em), an' he sez, 'Come up heah.'
+So up I goes tippin', skeered like, an' old marster sez, 'Ain' you
+Mymie's son?' 'Yass, seh,' sez I. 'Well,' sez he, 'I'm gwine to give
+you to yo' young Marse Channin' to be his body-servant,' an' he put de
+baby right in my arms (it's de truth I'm tellin' you!), an' yo' jes'
+ought to a-heard de folks sayin', 'Lawd! marster, dat boy'll drap dat
+chile!' 'Naw, he won't,' sez marster; 'I kin trust 'im.' And den he
+sez: 'Now, Sam, from dis time you belong to yo' young Marse Channin';
+I wan' you to tek keer on 'im ez long ez he lives. You are to be his
+boy from dis time. An' now,' he sez, 'carry 'im in de house.' An' he
+walks arfter me an' opens de do's fur me, an' I kyars 'im in my arms,
+an' lays 'im down on de bed. An' from dat time I wuz tooken in de
+house to be Marse Channin's body-servant.
+
+"Well, you nuvver see a chile grow so. Pres'n'y he growed up right
+big, an' ole marster sez he must have some edication. So he sont 'im
+to school to ole Miss Lawry down dyar, dis side o' Cun'l Chahmb'lin's,
+an' I use' to go 'long wid 'im an' tote he books an' we all's snacks;
+an' when he larnt to read an' spell right good, an' got 'bout so-o
+big, old Miss Lawry she died, an' ole marster said he mus' have a man
+to teach 'im an' trounce 'im. So we all went to Mr. Hall, whar kep' de
+school-house beyant de creek, an' dyar we went ev'y day, 'cep'
+Sat'd'ys of co'se, an' sich days ez Marse Chan din' warn' go, an' ole
+missis begged 'im off.
+
+"Hit wuz down dyar Marse Chan fust took notice o' Miss Anne. Mr. Hall,
+he taught gals ez well ez boys, an' Cun'l Chahmb'lin he sont his
+daughter (dat's Miss Anne I'm talkin' about). She wuz a leetle bit o'
+gal when she fust come. Yo' see, her ma wuz dead, an' ole Miss Lucy
+Chahmb'lin, she lived wid her brudder an' kep' house for 'im; an' he
+wuz so busy wid politics, he didn' have much time to spyar, so he sont
+Miss Anne to Mr. Hall's by a 'ooman wid a note. When she come dat day
+in de school-house, an' all de chil'en looked at her so hard, she tu'n
+right red, an' tried to pull her long curls over her eyes, an' den put
+bofe de backs of her little han's in her two eyes, an' begin to cry to
+herse'f. Marse Chan he was settin' on de een' o' de bench nigh de do',
+an' he jes' reached out an' put he arm roun' her an' drawed her up to
+'im. An' he kep' whisperin' to her, an' callin' her name, an' coddlin'
+her; an' pres'n'y she took her han's down an' begin to laugh.
+
+"Well, dey 'peared to tek' a gre't fancy to each udder from dat time.
+Miss Anne she warn' nuthin' but a baby hardly, an' Marse Chan he wuz a
+good big boy 'bout mos' thirteen years ole, I reckon. Hows'ever, dey
+sut'n'y wuz sot on each udder an' (yo' heah me!) ole marster an' Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin dey 'peared to like it 'bout well ez de chil'en. Yo' see
+Cun'l Chahmb'lin's place j'ined ourn, an' it looked jes' ez natural
+fur dem two chil'en to marry an' mek it one plantation, ez it did fur
+de creek to run down de bottom from our place into Cun'l Chahmb'lin's.
+I don' rightly think de chil'en thought 'bout gittin' _married_, not
+den, no mo'n I thought 'bout marryin' Judy when she wuz a little gal
+at Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, runnin' 'bout de house, huntin' fur Miss Lucy's
+spectacles; but dey wuz good frien's from de start. Marse Chan he use'
+to kyar Miss Anne's books fur her ev'y day, an' ef de road wuz muddy
+or she wuz tired, he use' to tote her; an' 'twarn' hardly a day passed
+dat he didn' kyar her some'n' to school--apples or hick'y nuts, or
+some'n'. He wouldn' let none o' de chil'en tease her, nudder. Heh! One
+day, one o' de boys poked he finger at Miss Anne, an' arfter school
+Marse Chan he axed 'im 'roun' hine de school-house out o' sight, an'
+ef he didn' whop 'im!
+
+"Marse Chan, he wuz de peartes' scholar ole Mr. Hall hed, an' Mr. Hall
+he wuz mighty proud o' 'im. I don' think he use' to beat 'im ez much
+ez he did de udders, aldo' he wuz de head in all debilment dat went
+on, jes' ez he wuz in sayin' he lessons.
+
+"Heh! one day in summer, jes' 'fo' de school broke up, dyah come up a
+storm right sudden, an' riz de creek (dat one yo' cross' back yonder),
+an' Marse Chan he toted Miss Anne home on he back. He ve'y off'n did
+dat when de parf wuz muddy. But dis day when dey come to de creek, it
+had done washed all de logs 'way. 'Twuz still mighty high, so Marse
+Chan he put Miss Anne down, an' he took a pole an' waded right in. Hit
+took 'im long up to de shoulders. Den he waded back, an' took Miss
+Anne up on his head an' kyar'd her right over. At fust she wuz
+skeered; but he tol' her he could swim an' wouldn' let her git hu't,
+an' den she let 'im kyar her 'cross, she hol'in' his han's. I warn'
+'long dat day, but he sut'n'y did dat thing.
+
+"Ole marster he wuz so pleased 'bout it, he giv' Marse Chan a pony;
+an' Marse Chan rode 'im to school de day arfter he come, so proud, an'
+sayin' how he wuz gwine to let Anne ride behine 'im; an' when he come
+home dat evenin' he wuz walkin'. 'Hi! where's yo' pony?' said ole
+marster. 'I give 'im to Anne,' says Marse Chan. 'She liked 'im, an'--I
+kin walk.' 'Yes,' sez ole marster, laughin', 'I s'pose you's already
+done giv' her yo'se'f, an' nex' thing I know you'll be givin' her this
+plantation and all my niggers.'
+
+"Well, about a fortnight or sich a matter arfter dat, Cun'l Chahmb'lin
+sont over an' invited all o' we all over to dinner, an' Marse Chan wuz
+'spressly named in de note whar Ned brought; an' arfter dinner he made
+ole Phil, whar wuz his ker'ige-driver, bring roun' Marse Chan's pony
+wid a little side-saddle on 'im, an' a beautiful little hoss wid a
+bran'-new saddle an' bridle on 'im; an' he gits up an' meks Marse Chan
+a gre't speech, an' presents 'im de little hoss; an' den he calls Miss
+Anne, an' she comes out on de poach in a little ridin' frock, an' dey
+puts her on her pony, an' Marse Chan mounts his hoss, an' dey goes to
+ride, while de grown folks is a-laughin' an' chattin' an' smokin' dey
+cigars.
+
+"Dem wuz good ole times, marster--de bes' Sam ever see! Dey wuz, in
+fac'! Niggers didn' hed nothin' 't all to do--jes' hed to 'ten' to de
+feedin', an' cleanin' de hosses, an' doin' what de marster tell 'em to
+do; an' when dey wuz sick, dey had things sont 'em out de house, an'
+de same doctor come to see 'em whar 'ten' to de white folks when dey
+wuz po'ly. Dyar warn' no trouble nor nothin'.
+
+"Well, things tuk a change arfter dat. Marse Chan he went to de
+bo'din' school, whar he use' to write to me constant. Ole missis use'
+to read me de letters, an' den I'd git Miss Anne to read 'em ag'in to
+me when I'd see her. He use' to write to her too, an' she use' to
+write to him too. Den Miss Anne she wuz sont off to school too. An' in
+de summer time dey'd bofe come home, an' yo' hardly knowed whether
+Marse Chan lived at home or over at Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. He wuz over
+dyah constant. 'Twuz always ridin' or fishin' down dyah, in de river;
+or sometimes he' go over dyah, an' 'im an' she'd go out an' set in de
+yard onder de trees; she settin' up mekin' out she wuz knittin' some
+sort o' bright-cullored some'n', wid de grarss growin' all up 'g'inst
+her, an' her hat th'owed back on her neck, an' he readin' to her out
+books; an' sometimes dey'd bofe read out de same book, fust one an'
+den todder. I use' to see 'em! Dat wuz when dey wuz growin' up like.
+
+"Den ole marster he run for Congress, an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he wuz
+put up to run 'g'inst ole marster by de Dimicrats; but ole marster he
+beat 'im. Yo' know he wuz gwine do dat! Co'se he wuz! Dat made ole
+Cun'l Chahmb'lin mighty mad, and dey stopt visitin' each udder
+reg'lar, like dey had been doin' all 'long. Den Cun'l Chahmb'lin he
+sort o' got in debt, an' sell some o' he niggers, an' dat's de way de
+fuss begun. Dat's whar de lawsuit cum from. Ole marster he didn' like
+nobody to sell niggers, an' knowin' dat Cun'l Chahmb'lin wuz sellin'
+o' his, he writ an' offered to buy his M'ria an' all her chil'en,
+'cause she hed married our Zeek'yel. An' don' yo' t'ink, Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin axed ole marster mo' 'n th'ee niggers wuz wuth fur M'ria.
+Befo' old marster bought her, dough, de sheriff cum an' levelled on
+M'ria an' a whole parecel o' udder niggers. Ole marster he went to de
+sale, an' bid for 'em; but Cun'l Chahmb'lin he got some one to bid
+'g'inst ole marster. Dey wuz knocked out to ole marster dough, an' den
+dey hed a big lawsuit, an' ole marster wuz agwine to co't, off an' on,
+fur some years, till at lars' de co't decided dat M'ria belonged to
+ole marster. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin den wuz so mad he sued ole marster
+for a little strip o' lan' down dyah on de line fence, whar he said
+belonged to 'im. Ev'ybody knowed hit belonged to ole marster. Ef yo'
+go down dyah now, I kin show it to yo', inside de line fence, whar it
+hed done bin ever since long befo' ole marster wuz born. But Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin wuz a mons'us perseverin' man, an' ole marster he wouldn'
+let nobody run over 'im. No, dat he wouldn'! So dey wuz agwine down to
+co't about dat, fur I don' know how long, till ole marster beat 'im.
+
+"All dis time, yo' know, Marse Chan wuz a-goin' back'ads an' for'ads
+to college, an' wuz growed up a ve'y fine young man. He wuz a ve'y
+likely gent'man! Miss Anne she hed done mos' growed up, too--wuz
+puttin' her hyar up like ole missis use' to put hers up, an' 'twuz
+jes' ez bright ez de sorrel's mane when de sun cotch on it, an' her
+eyes wuz gre't big dark eyes, like her pa's, on'y bigger an' not so
+fierce, an' 'twarn' none o' de young ladies ez purty ez she wuz. She
+an' Marse Chan still set a heap o' sto' by one 'nudder, but I don'
+t'ink dey wuz easy wid each udder ez when he used to tote her home
+from school on his back. Marse Chan he use' to love de ve'y groun' she
+walked on, dough, in my 'pinion. Heh! His face 'twould light up
+whenever she come into chu'ch, or anywhere, jes' like de sun hed come
+th'oo a chink on it suddenly.
+
+"Den ole marster lost he eyes. D' yo' ever hyah 'bout dat? Heish!
+Didn' yo'? Well, one night de big barn cotch fire. De stables, yo'
+know, wuz under de big barn, an' all de hosses wuz in dyah. Hit
+'peared to me like 'twarn' no time befo' all de folks an' de
+neighbors dey come, an' dey wuz a-totin' water, an' a-tryin' to save
+de po' critters, an' dey got a heap on 'em out; but de ker'ige-hosses
+dey wouldn' come out, an' dey wuz a-runnin' back'ads an' for'ads
+inside de stalls, a-nikerin' an' a-screamin', like dey knowed dey time
+hed come. Yo' could heah 'em so pitiful, an' pres'n'y ole marster said
+to Ham Fisher (he wuz de ker'ige-driver), 'Go in dyah an' try to save
+'em; don' let 'em bu'n to death.' An' Ham he went right in. An' jes'
+arfter he got in, de shed whar it hed fus' cotch fell in, an' de
+sparks shot 'way up in de air; an' Ham didn' come back, an' de fire
+begun to lick out under de eaves over whar de ker'ige-hosses' stalls
+wuz, an' all of a sudden ole marster tu'ned and kissed ole missis, who
+wuz standin' nigh him, wid her face jes' ez white ez a sperit's, an',
+befo' anybody knowed what he wuz gwine do, jumped right in de do', an'
+de smoke come po'in' out behine 'im. Well, seh, I nuvver 'specks to
+hyah tell Judgment sich a soun' ez de folks set up. Ole missis she
+jes' drapt down on her knees in de mud an' prayed out loud. Hit
+'peared like her pra'r wuz heard; for in a minit, right out de same
+do', kyarin' Ham Fisher in his arms, come ole marster, wid his clo'es
+all blazin'. Dey flung water on 'im, an' put 'im out; an', ef you
+b'lieve me, yo' wouldn' a-knowed 'twuz ole marster. Yo' see, he hed
+find Ham Fisher done fall down in de smoke right by de ker'ige-hoss'
+stalls, whar he sont him, an' he hed to tote 'im back in his arms
+th'oo de fire what hed done cotch de front part o' de stable, an' to
+keep de flame from gittin' down Ham Fisher's th'ote he hed tuk off his
+own hat and mashed it all over Ham Fisher's face, an' he hed kep' Ham
+Fisher from bein' so much bu'nt; but _he_ wuz bu'nt dreadful! His
+beard an' hyar wuz all nyawed off, an' his face an' han's an' neck wuz
+scorified terrible. Well, he jes' laid Ham Fisher down, an' then he
+kind o' staggered for'ad, an' ole missis ketch' 'im in her arms. Ham
+Fisher, he warnt bu'nt so bad, an' he got out in a month or two; an'
+arfter a long time, ole marster he got well, too; but he wuz always
+stone bline arfter dat. He nuvver could see none from dat night.
+
+"Marse Chan he comed home from college toreckly, an' he sut'n'y did
+nuss ole marster faithful--jes' like a 'ooman. Den he took charge o'
+de plantation arfter dat; an' I use' to wait on 'im jes' like when we
+wuz boys togedder; an' sometimes we'd slip off an' have a fox-hunt,
+an' he'd be jes' like he wuz in ole times, befo' ole marster got
+bline, an' Miss Anne Chahmb'lin stopt comin' over to our house, an'
+settin' onder de trees, readin' out de same book.
+
+"He sut'n'y wuz good to me. Nothin' nuvver made no diffunce 'bout dat.
+He nuvver hit me a lick in his life--an' nuvver let nobody else do it,
+nudder.
+
+"I 'members one day, when he wuz a leetle bit o' boy, ole marster hed
+done tole we all chil'en not to slide on de straw-stacks; an' one day
+me an' Marse Chan thought ole marster hed done gone 'way from home. We
+watched him git on he hoss an' ride up de road out o' sight, an' we
+wuz out in de field a-slidin' an' a-slidin', when up comes ole
+marster. We started to run; but he hed done see us, an' he called us
+to come back; an' sich a whoppin' ez he did gi' us!
+
+"Fust he took Marse Chan, an' den he teched me up. He nuvver hu't me,
+but in co'se I wuz a-hollerin' ez hard ez I could stave it, 'cause I
+knowed dat wuz gwine mek him stop. Marse Chan he hed'n open he mouf
+long ez ole marster wuz tunin' 'im; but soon ez he commence warmin' me
+an' I begin to holler, Marse Chan he bu'st out cryin', an' stept right
+in befo' ole marster, an' ketchin' de whop, sed:
+
+"'Stop, seh! Yo' sha'n't whop 'im; he b'longs to me, an' ef you hit
+'im another lick I'll set 'im free!'
+
+"I wish yo' hed see ole marster. Marse Chan he warn' mo'n eight years
+ole, an' dyah dey wuz--ole marster stan'in' wid he whop raised up, an'
+Marse Chan red an' cryin', hol'in' on to it, an' sayin' I b'longst to
+'im.
+
+"Ole marster, he raise' de whop, an' den he drapt it, an' broke out in
+a smile over he face, an' he chuck' Marse Chan onder der chin, an'
+tu'n right roun' an' went away, laughin' to hisse'f, an' I heah' 'im
+tellin' ole missis dat evenin', an' laughin' 'bout it.
+
+"'Twan' so mighty long arfter dat when dey fust got to talkin' 'bout
+de war. Dey wuz a-dictatin' back'ads an' for'ads 'bout it fur two or
+th'ee years 'fo' it come sho' nuff, you know. Ole marster, he wuz a
+Whig, an' of co'se Marse Chan he tuk after he pa. Cun'l Chahmb'lin, he
+wuz a Dimicrat. He wuz in favor of de war, an' ole marster and Marse
+Chan dey wuz agin' it. Dey wuz a-talkin' 'bout it all de time, an'
+purty soon Cun'l Chahmb'lin he went about ev'vywhar speakin' an'
+noratin' 'bout Firginia ought to secede; an' Marse Chan he wuz picked
+up to talk agin' 'im. Dat wuz de way dey come to fight de duil. I
+sut'n'y wuz skeered fur Marse Chan dat mawnin', an' he was jes' ez
+cool! Yo' see, it happen so: Marse Chan he wuz a-speakin' down at de
+Deep Creek Tavern, an' he kind o' got de bes' of ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin.
+All de white folks laughed an' hoorawed, an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin--my
+Lawd! I t'ought he'd 'a' bu'st, he wuz so mad. Well, when it come to
+his time to speak, he jes' light into Marse Chan. He call 'im a
+traitor, an' a ab'litionis', an' I don' know what all. Marse Chan, he
+jes' kep' cool till de ole Cun'l light into he pa. Ez soon ez he name
+ole marster, I seen Marse Chan sort o' lif' up he head. D' yo' ever
+see a hoss rar he head up right sudden at night when he see somethin'
+comin' to'ds 'im from de side an' he don' know what 'tis? Ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin, he went right on. He said ole marster hed taught Marse
+Chan; dat ole marster wuz a wuss ab'litionis' dan he son. I looked at
+Marse Chan, an' sez to myse'f: 'Fo' Gord! old Cun'l Chahmb'lin better
+min', an' I hedn' got de wuds out, when ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin 'cuse'
+ole marster o' cheatin' 'im out o' he niggers, an' stealin' piece o'
+he lan'--dat's de lan' I tole you 'bout. Well, seh, nex' thing I
+knowed, I heahed Marse Chan--hit all happen right 'long togedder, like
+lightnin' an' thunder when dey hit right at you--I heah 'im say:
+
+"'Cun'l Chahmb'lin, what you say is false, an' yo' know it to be so.
+You have wilfully slandered one of the pures' an' nobles' men Gord
+ever made, an' nothin' but yo' gray hyars protects you.'
+
+"Well, ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin, he ra'ed an' he pitch'd. He said he wan'
+too ole, an' he'd show 'im so.
+
+"'Ve'y well,' says Marse Chan.
+
+"De meetin' broke up den. I wuz hol'in de hosses out dyar in de road
+by de een' o' de poach, an' I see Marse Chan talkin' an' talkin' to
+Mr. Gordon an' anudder gent'man, an' den he come out an' got on de
+sorrel an' galloped off. Soon ez he got out o' sight, he pulled up,
+an' we walked along tell we come to de road whar leads off to'ds Mr.
+Barbour's. He wuz de big lawyer o' de country. Dar he tu'ned off. All
+dis time he hedn' sed a wud, 'cep' to kind o' mumble to hisse'f now
+an' den. When we got to Mr. Barbour's, he got down an' went in. Dat
+wuz in de late winter; de folks wuz jes' beginnin' to plough fur corn.
+He stayed dyar 'bout two hours, an' when he come out Mr. Barbour come
+out to de gate wid 'im an' shake han's arfter he got up in de saddle.
+Den we all rode off. 'Twuz late den--good dark; an' we rid ez hard
+ez we could, tell we come to de ole school-house at ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin's gate. When we got dar Marse Chan got down an' walked
+right slow 'roun' de house. Arfter lookin' 'roun' a little while an'
+tryin' de do' to see ef it wuz shet, he walked down de road tell he
+got to de creek. He stop' dyar a little while an' picked up two or
+three little rocks an' frowed 'em in, an' pres'n'y he got up an' we
+come on home. Ez he got down, he tu'ned to me an', rubbin' de sorrel's
+nose, said: 'Have 'em well fed, Sam; I'll want 'em early in de
+mawnin'.'
+
+"Dat night at supper he laugh an' talk, an' he set at de table a long
+time. Arfter ole marster went to bed, he went in de charmber an' set
+on de bed by 'im talkin' to 'im an' tellin' 'im 'bout de meetin' an'
+ev'ything; but he never mention ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's name. When he
+got up to come out to de office in de yard, whar he slept, he stooped
+down an' kissed 'im jes' like he wuz a baby layin' dyar in de bed, an'
+he'd hardly let ole missis go at all. I knowed some'n wuz up, an' nex'
+mawnin' I called 'im early befo' light, like he tole me, an' he
+dressed an' come out pres'n'y jes' like he wuz goin' to chu'ch. I had
+de hosses ready, an' we went out de back way to'ds de river. Ez we
+rode along, he said:
+
+"'Sam, you an' I wuz boys togedder, wa'n't we?'
+
+"'Yes,' sez I, 'Marse Chan, dat we wuz.'
+
+"'You have been ve'y faithful to me,' sez he, 'an' I have seen to it
+that you are well provided fur. You wan' to marry Judy, I know, an'
+you'll be able to buy her ef you want to.'
+
+"Den he tole me he wuz goin' to fight a duil, an' in case he should
+git shot, he had set me free an' giv' me nuff to tek keer o' me an' my
+wife ez long ez we lived. He said he'd like me to stay an' tek keer o'
+ole marster an' ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an' he said it
+wouldn' be very long, he reckoned. Dat wuz de on'y time he voice
+broke--when he said dat; an' I couldn' speak a wud, my th'oat choked
+me so.
+
+"When we come to de river, we tu'ned right up de bank, an' arfter
+ridin' 'bout a mile or sich a matter, we stopped whar dey wuz a little
+clearin' wid elder bushes on one side an' two big gum trees on de
+udder, an' de sky wuz all red, an' de water down to'ds whar de sun wuz
+comin' wuz jes' like de sky.
+
+"Pres'n'y Mr. Gordon he come wid a 'hogany box 'bout so big 'fore 'im,
+an' he got down, an' Marse Chan tole me to tek all de hosses an' go
+'roun' behine de bushes whar I tell you 'bout--off to one side; an'
+'fore I got 'roun' dar, ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin an' Mr. Hennin an' Dr.
+Call come ridin' from tudder way, to'ds ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. When
+dey hed tied dey hosses, de udder gent'mens went up to whar Mr. Gordon
+wuz, an' arfter some chattin' Mr. Hennin step' off 'bout fur ez 'cross
+dis road, or mebbe it mout be a little furder; an' den I seed 'em
+th'oo de bushes loadin' de pistils, an' talk' a little while; an' den
+Marse Chan an' ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin walked up wid de pistils in dey
+han's, an' Marse Chan he stood wid his face right to'ds de sun. I seen
+it shine on 'im jes' ez it come up over de low groun's, an' he look'
+like he did sometimes when he come out of chu'ch. I wuz so skeered I
+couldn' say nuthin'. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin could shoot fust rate, an'
+Marse Chan he never missed.
+
+"Den I heahed Mr. Gordon say, 'Gent'mens, is yo' ready?' and bofe of
+'em sez, 'Ready,' jes' so.
+
+"An' he sez, 'Fire, one, two'--an' ez he said 'one,' ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin raised he pistil an' shot right at Marse Chan. De ball went
+th'oo his hat. I seen he hat sort o' settle on he head ez de bullit
+hit it, an' _he_ jes' tilted his pistil up in de a'r an' shot--_bang_;
+an' ez de pistil went _bang_, he sez to Cun'l Chahmb'lin, 'I mek you a
+present to yo' fam'ly, seh!'
+
+"Well, dey had some talkin' arfter dat. I didn' git rightly what it
+wuz; but it 'peared like Cun'l Chahmb'lin he warn't satisfied, an'
+wanted to have anudder shot. De seconds dey wuz talkin', an' pres'n'y
+dey put de pistils up, an' Marse Chan an' Mr. Gordon shook han's wid
+Mr. Hennin an' Dr. Call, an' come an' got on dey hosses. An' Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin he got on his horse an' rode away wid de udder gent'mens,
+lookin' like he did de day befo' when all de people laughed at 'im.
+
+"I b'lieve ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin wan' to shoot Marse Chan, anyway!
+
+"We come on home to breakfast, I totin' de box wid de pistils befo' me
+on the roan. Would you b'lieve me, seh, Marse Chan he nuvver said a
+wud 'bout it to ole marster or nobody. Ole missis didn' fin' out 'bout
+it for mo'n a month, an' den, Lawd! how she did cry and kiss Marse
+Chan; an' ole marster, aldo' he never say much, he wuz jes' ez please'
+ez ole missis. He call' me in de room an' made me tole 'im all 'bout
+it, an' when I got th'oo he gi' me five dollars an' a pyar of
+breeches.
+
+"But ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin he nuvver did furgive Marse Chan, and Miss
+Anne she got mad too. Wimmens is mons'us onreasonable nohow. Dey's
+jes' like a catfish: you cann' tek' hole on 'em like udder folks, an'
+when you gits 'em yo' can n' always hole 'em.
+
+"What meks me think so? Heaps o' things--dis: Marse Chan he done gi'
+Miss Anne her pa jes' ez good ez I gi' Marse Chan's dawg sweet
+'taters, an' she git mad wid 'im ez if he hed kill 'im 'stid o'
+sen'in' 'im back to her dat mawnin' whole an' soun'. B'lieve me! she
+wouldn' even speak to 'im arfter dat!
+
+"Don' I 'member dat mawnin'!
+
+"We wuz gwine fox-huntin', 'bout six weeks or sich a matter arfter de
+duil, an' we met Miss Anne ridin' 'long wid anudder lady an' two
+gent'mens whar wuz stayin' at her house. Dyar wuz always some one or
+nudder dyar co'ting her. Well, dat mawnin' we meet 'em right in de
+road. 'Twuz de fust time Marse Chan had see her sence de duil, an' he
+raises he hat ez he pahss, an' she looks right at 'im wid her head up
+in de yair like she nuvver see 'im befo' in her born days; an' when
+she comes by me, she sez, 'Good-mawnin', Sam!' Gord! I nuvver see
+nuthin' like de look dat come on Marse Chan's face when she pahss 'im
+like dat. He gi' de sorrel a pull dat fotch 'im back settin' down in
+de san' on he hanches. He ve'y lips wuz white. I tried to keep up wid
+'im, but 'twarn' no use. He sont me back home pres'n'y, an' he rid on.
+I sez to myself, 'Cun'l Chahmb'lin, don' yo' meet Marse Chan dis
+mawnin'. He ain' bin lookin' 'roun' de ole school-house, whar he an'
+Miss Anne use' to go to school to ole Mr. Hall together, fur nuffin'.
+He won' stan' no prodjickin' to-day.'
+
+"He nuvver come home dat night tell 'way late, an' ef he'd been
+fox-huntin' it mus' ha' been de ole red whar lives down in de
+greenscum mashes he'd been chasin'. De way de sorrel wuz gormed up wid
+sweat an' mire sut'n'y did hu't me. He walked up to de stable wid he
+head down all de way, an' I'se seen 'im go eighty miles of a winter
+day, an' prance into de stable at night ez fresh ez ef he hed jes'
+cantered over to ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin's to supper. I nuvver seen a
+hoss beat so sence I knowed de fetlock from de fo'lock, an' bad ez he
+wuz he wan' ez bad ez Marse Chan.
+
+"Whew! he didn' git over dat thing, seh--he nuvver did git over it.
+
+"De war come on jes' den, an' Marse Chan wuz elected cap'n; but he
+wouldn' tek it. He said Firginia hadn' seceded, an' he wuz gwine stan'
+by her. Den dey 'lected Mr. Gordon cap'n.
+
+"I sut'n'y did wan' Marse Chan to tek de place, cuz I knowed he wuz
+gwine tek me wid 'im. He wan' gwine widout Sam. An' beside, he look so
+po' an' thin, I thought he wuz gwine die.
+
+"Of co'se ole missis she heard 'bout it, an' she met Miss Anne in de
+road, an' cut her jes' like Miss Anne cut Marse Chan.
+
+"Ole missis, she wuz proud ez anybody! So we wuz mo' strangers dan ef
+we hadn' live' in a hunderd miles of each udder. An' Marse Chan he wuz
+gittin' thinner an' thinner, an' Firginia she come out, an' den Marse
+Chan he went to Richmond an' listed, an' come back an' sey he wuz a
+private, an' he didn' know whe'r he could tek me or not. He writ to
+Mr. Gordon, hows'ever, and 'twuz decided that when he went I wuz to go
+'long an' wait on him, an' de cap'n too. I didn' min' dat, yo' know,
+long ez I could go wid Marse Chan, an' I like' Mr. Gordon, anyways.
+
+"Well, one night Marse Chan come back from de offis wid a telegram dat
+say, 'Come at once,' so he wuz to start nex' mawnin'. He uniform wuz
+all ready, gray wid yaller trimmin's, an' mine wuz ready too, an' he
+had ole marster's sword, whar de State gi' 'im in de Mexikin war; an'
+he trunks wuz all packed wid ev'rything in 'em, an' my chist wuz
+packed too, an' Jim Rasher he druv 'em over to de depo' in de waggin,
+an' we wuz to start nex' mawnin' 'bout light. Dis wuz 'bout de las' o'
+spring, you know. Dat night ole missis made Marse Chan dress up in he
+uniform, an' he sut'n'y did look splendid wid he long mustache an' he
+wavin' hyar and he tall figger.
+
+"Arfter supper he come down an' sez: 'Sam, I wan' you to tek dis note
+an' kyar it over to Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, an' gi' it to Miss Anne wid
+yo' own han's, an' bring me wud what she sez. Don' let any one know
+'bout it, or know why you've gone.' 'Yes, seh,' sez I.
+
+"Yo' see, I knowed Miss Anne's maid over at ole Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin's--dat wuz Judy whar is my wife now--an' I knowed I could
+wuk it. So I tuk de roan an' rid over, an' tied 'im down de hill in de
+cedars, an' I wen' 'roun' to de back yard. 'Twuz a right blowy sort o'
+night; de moon wuz jes' risin', but de clouds wuz so big it didn'
+shine 'cep' th'oo a crack now an' den. I soon foun' my gal, an' arfter
+tellin' her two or three lies 'bout herse'f, I got her to go in an' ax
+Miss Anne to come to de do'. When she come, I gi' her de note, an'
+arfter a little while she bro't me anudder, an' I tole her good-by,
+an' she gi' me a dollar, an' I come home an' gi' de letter to Marse
+Chan. He read it, an' tole me to have de hosses ready at twenty minits
+to twelve at de corner of de garden. An' jes' befo' dat he come out ez
+ef he wuz gwine to bed, but instid he come, an' we all struck out
+to'ds Cun'l Chahmb'lin's. When we got mos' to de gate, de hosses got
+sort o' skeered, an' I see dey wuz some'n or somebody standin' jes'
+inside; an' Marse Chan he jumpt off de sorrel an' flung me de bridle
+and he walked up.
+
+"She spoke fust ('twuz Miss Anne had done come out dyar to meet Marse
+Chan), an' she sez, jes' ez cold ez a chill, 'Well, seh, I granted
+your favor. I wished to relieve myse'f of de obligations you placed me
+under a few months ago, when you made me a present of my father, whom
+you fust insulted an' then prevented from gittin' satisfaction.'
+
+"Marse Chan he didn' speak fur a minit, an' den he said: 'Who is with
+you?' (Dat wuz ev'y wud.)
+
+"'No one,' sez she; 'I came alone.'
+
+"'My God!' sez he, 'you didn' come all through those woods by yourse'f
+at this time o' night?'
+
+"'Yes, I'm not afraid,' sez she. (An' heah dis nigger! I don' b'lieve
+she wuz.)
+
+"De moon come out, an' I cotch sight o' her stan'in' dyar in her white
+dress, wid de cloak she had wrapped herse'f up in drapped off on de
+groun', an' she didn' look like she wuz 'feared o' nuthin'. She wuz
+mons'us purty ez she stood dyar wid de green bushes behine her, an'
+she hed jes' a few flowers in her breas'--right hyah--and some leaves
+in her sorrel hyar; an' de moon come out an' shined down on her hyar
+an' her frock, an' 'peared like de light wuz jes' stan'in' off it ez
+she stood dyar lookin' at Marse Chan wid her head tho'd back, jes'
+like dat mawnin' when she pahss Marse Chan in de road widout speakin'
+to 'im, an' sez to me, 'Good mawnin', Sam.'
+
+"Marse Chan, he den tole her he hed come to say good-by to her, ez he
+wuz gwine 'way to de war nex' mawnin'. I wuz watchin' on her, an' I
+tho't when Marse Chan tole her dat, she sort o' started an' looked up
+at 'im like she wuz mighty sorry, an' 'peared like she didn' stan'
+quite so straight arfter dat. Den Marse Chan he went on talkin' right
+fars' to her; an' he tole her how he had loved her ever sence she wuz
+a little bit o' baby mos', an' how he nuvver 'membered de time when he
+hedn' 'spected to marry her. He tole her it wuz his love for her dat
+hed made 'im stan' fust at school an' collige, an' hed kep' 'im good
+an' pure; an' now he wuz gwine 'way, wouldn' she let it be like 'twuz
+in ole times, an' ef he come back from de war wouldn' she try to t'ink
+on him ez she use' to do when she wuz a little guirl?
+
+"Marse Chan he had done been talkin' so serious, he hed done tuk Miss
+Anne's han', an' wuz lookin' down in her face like he wuz list'nin'
+wid his eyes.
+
+"Arfter a minit Miss Anne she said somethin', an' Marse Chan he cotch
+her udder han' an' sez:
+
+"'But if you love me, Anne?'
+
+"When he sed dat, she tu'ned her head 'way from 'im, an' wait' a
+minit, an' den she sed--right clear:
+
+"'But I don' love yo'.' (Jes' dem th'ee wuds!) De wuds fall right
+slow--like dirt falls out a spade on a coffin when yo's buryin'
+anybody an' seys, 'Uth to uth.' Marse Chan he jes' let her hand drap,
+an' he stiddy hisse'f 'g'inst de gate-pos', an' he didn' speak
+toreckly. When he did speak, all he sez wuz:
+
+"'I mus' see you home safe.'
+
+"I 'clar, marster, I didn' know 'twuz Marse Chan's voice tell I look
+at 'im right good. Well, she wouldn' let 'im go wid her. She jes'
+wrap' her cloak 'roun' her shoulders, an' wen' 'long back by herse'f,
+widout doin' more'n jes' look up once at Marse Chan leanin' dyah
+'g'inst de gate-pos' in he sodger clo'es, wid he eyes on de groun'.
+She said 'Good-by' sort o' sorf, an' Marse Chan, widout lookin' up,
+shake han's wid her, an' she wuz done gone down de road. Soon ez she
+got 'mos' 'roun' de curve, Marse Chan he followed her, keepin' under
+de trees so ez not to be seen, an' I led de hosses on down de road
+behine 'im. He kep' 'long behine her tell she wuz safe in de house,
+an' den he come an' got on he hoss, an' we all come home.
+
+"Nex' mawnin' we all come off to j'ine de army. An' dey wuz a-drillin'
+an' a-drillin' all 'bout for a while an' dey went 'long wid all de
+res' o' de army, an I went wid Marse Chan an' clean he boots, an' look
+arfter de tent, an' tek keer o' him an' de hosses. An' Marse Chan, he
+wan' a bit like he use' to be. He wuz so solum an' moanful all de
+time, at leas' 'cep' when dyah wuz gwine to be a fight. Den he'd
+peartin' up, an' he alwuz rode at de head o' de company 'cause he wuz
+tall; an' hit wan' on'y in battles whar all his company wuz dat _he_
+went, but he use' to volunteer whenever de cun'l wanted anybody to
+fine out anythin', an' 'twuz so dangersome he didn' like to mek one
+man go no sooner'n anudder, yo' know, an' ax'd who'd volunteer. _He_
+'peared to like to go prowlin' aroun' 'mong dem Yankees, an' he use'
+to tek me wid 'im whenever he could. Yes, seh, he sut'n'y wuz a good
+sodger! He didn' mine bullets no more'n he did so many draps o' rain.
+But I use' to be pow'ful skeered sometimes. It jes' use' to 'pear like
+fun to 'im. In camp he use' to be so sorrerful he'd hardly open he
+mouf. You'd 'a' tho't he wuz seekin', he used to look so moanful; but
+jes' le' 'im git into danger, an' he use' to be like ole times--jolly
+an' laughin' like when he wuz a boy.
+
+"When Cap'n Gordon got he leg shot off, dey mek Marse Chan cap'n on de
+spot, 'cause one o' de lieutenants got kilt de same day, an' tor'er
+one (named Mr. Ronny) wan' no 'count, an' all de company sed Marse
+Chan wuz de man.
+
+"An' Marse Chan he wuz jes' de same. He didn' never mention Miss
+Anne's name, but I knowed he wuz thinkin' on her constant. One night
+he wuz settin' by de fire in camp, an' Mr. Ronny--he wuz de secon'
+lieutenant--got to talkin' 'bout ladies, an' he say all sorts o'
+things 'bout 'em, an' I see Marse Chan kinder lookin' mad; an' de
+lieutenant mention Miss Anne's name. He hed been courtin' Miss Anne
+'bout de time Marse Chan fit de duil wid her pa, an' Miss Anne hed
+kicked 'im, dough he wuz mighty rich, 'cause he warn' nuthin' but a
+half-strainer, an' 'cause she like Marse Chan, I believe, dough she
+didn' speak to 'im; an' Mr. Ronny he got drunk, an' 'cause Cun'l
+Chahmb'lin tole 'im not to come dyah no more, he got mighty mad. An'
+dat evenin' I'se tellin' yo' 'bout, he wuz talkin', an' he mention'
+Miss Anne's name. I see Marse Chan tu'n he eye 'roun' on 'im an' keep
+it on he face, an' pres'n'y Mr. Ronny said he wuz gwine hev some fun
+dyah yit. He didn' mention her name dat time; but he said dey wuz all
+on 'em a parecel of stuck-up 'risticrats, an' her pa wan' no gent'man
+anyway, and _she_----I don' know what he wuz gwine say (he nuvver said
+it), fur ez he got dat far Marse Chan riz up an' hit 'im a crack, an'
+he fall like he hed been hit wid a fence-rail. He challenged Marse
+Chan to fight a duil, an' Marse Chan he excepted de challenge, an' dey
+wuz gwine fight; but some on 'em tole 'im Marse Chan wan' gwine mek a
+present o' him to his fam'ly, an' he got somebody to bre'k up de duil;
+'twan' nuthin' dough, but he wuz 'fred to fight Marse Chan. An' purty
+soon he lef' de comp'ny.
+
+"Well, I got one o' de gent'mens to write Judy a letter for me, an' I
+tole her all 'bout de fight, an' how Marse Chan knock Mr. Ronny over
+fur speakin' discontemptuous o' Cun'l Chahmb'lin, an' I tole her how
+Marse Chan wuz a-dyin' fur love o' Miss Anne. An' Judy she gits Miss
+Anne to read de letter fur her. Den Miss Anne she tells her pa,
+an'--you mind, Judy tells me all dis arfterwards, an' she say when
+Cun'l Chahmb'lin hear 'bout it, he wuz settin' on de poach, an' he set
+still a good while, an' den he sey to hisse'f:
+
+"'Well, he carn' he'p bein' a Whig.'
+
+"An' den he gits up an' walks up to Miss Anne an' looks at her right
+hard; an' Miss Anne she hed done tu'n away her head an' wuz makin' out
+she wuz fixin' a rose-bush 'g'inst de poach; an' when her pa kep'
+lookin' at her, her face got jes' de color o' de roses on de bush, an'
+pres'n'y her pa sez:
+
+"'Anne!'
+
+"An' she tu'ned 'roun', an' he sez:
+
+"'Do yo' want 'im?'
+
+"An' she sez, 'Yes,' an' put her head on he shoulder an' begin to cry;
+an' he sez:
+
+"'Well, I won' stan' between yo' no longer. Write to 'im an' say so.'
+
+"We didn' know nuthin' 'bout dis den. We wuz a-fightin' an' a-fightin'
+all dat time; an' come one day a letter to Marse Chan, an' I see 'im
+start to read it in his tent, an' he face hit look so cu'ious, an' he
+han's trembled so I couldn' mek out what wuz de matter wid 'im. An' he
+fold' de letter up an' wen' out an' wen' 'way down 'hine de camp, an'
+stayed dyah 'bout nigh an hour. Well, seh, I wuz on de lookout for 'im
+when he come back, an', fo' Gord, ef he face didn' shine like a
+angel's. I say to myse'f, 'Um'm! ef de glory o' Gord ain' done shine
+on 'im!' An' what yo' 'spose 'twuz?
+
+"He tuk me wid 'im dat evenin', an' he tell me he hed done git a
+letter from Miss Anne, an' Marse Chan he eyes look like gre't big
+stars, an' he face wuz jes' like 'twuz dat mawnin' when de sun riz up
+over de low groun's, an' I see 'im stan'in' dyah wid de pistil in he
+han', lookin' at it, an' not knowin' but what it mout be de lars'
+time, an' he done mek up he mine not to shoot ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin fur
+Miss Anne's sake, what writ 'im de letter.
+
+"He fold' de letter wha' was in his han' up, an' put it in he inside
+pocket--right dyar on de lef' side; an' den he tole me he tho't mebbe
+we wuz gwine hev some warm wuk in de nex' two or th'ee days, an arfter
+dat ef Gord speared 'im he'd git a leave o' absence fur a few days,
+an' we'd go home.
+
+"Well, dat night de orders come, an' we all hed to git over to'ds
+Romney; an' we rid all night till 'bout light; an' we halted right on
+a little creek, an' we stayed dyah till mos' breakfas' time, an' I see
+Marse Chan set down on de groun' 'hine a bush an' read dat letter over
+an' over. I watch 'im, an' de battle wuz a-goin' on, but we hed orders
+to stay 'hine de hill, an' ev'y now an' den de bullets would cut de
+limbs o' de trees right over us, an' one o' dem big shells what goes
+'_Awhar--awhar--awhar!_' would fall right 'mong us; but Marse Chan he
+didn' mine it no mo'n nuthin'! Den it 'peared to git closer an'
+thicker, an' Marse Chan he calls me, an' I crep' up, an' he sez:
+
+"'Sam, we'se goin' to win in dis battle, an' den we'll go home an' git
+married; an' I'se goin' home wid a star on my collar.' An' den he sez,
+'Ef I'm wounded, kyar me home, yo' hear?' An' I sez, 'Yes, Marse
+Chan.'
+
+"Well, jes' den dey blowed boots an' saddles an' we mounted; an' de
+orders come to ride 'roun' de slope, an' Marse Chan's company wuz de
+secon'; an' when we got 'roun' dyah, we wuz right in it. Hit wuz de
+wust place ever dis nigger got in. An' dey said, 'Charge 'em!' an' my
+king! ef ever you see bullets fly, dey did dat day. Hit wuz jes' like
+hail; an' we wen' down de slope (I long wid de res') an' up de hill
+right to'ds de cannons, an' de fire wuz so strong dyar (dey hed a
+whole rigiment o' infintrys layin' down dyar onder de cannons) our
+lines sort o' broke an' stop; de cun'l was kilt, an' I b'lieve dey wuz
+jes' 'bout to bre'k all to pieces, when Marse Chan rid up an' cotch
+hol' de fleg an' hollers, 'Foller me!' an' rid strainin' up de hill
+'mong de cannons. I seen 'im when he went, de sorrel four good lengths
+ahead o' ev'y udder hoss, jes' like he use' to be in a fox-hunt, an'
+de whole rigiment right arfter 'im. Yo' ain' nuvver hear thunder! Fust
+thing I knowed, de roan roll' head over heels an' flung me up 'g'inst
+de bank, like yo' chuck a nubbin over 'g'inst de foot o' de corn pile.
+An' dat's what kep' me from bein' kilt, I 'specks. Judy she say she
+think 'twuz Providence, but I think 'twuz de bank. Of co'se,
+Providence put de bank dyar, but how come Providence nuvver saved
+Marse Chan! When I look' 'roun', de roan wuz layin' dyah by me, stone
+dead, wid a cannon-ball gone 'mos' th'oo him, an' our men hed done
+swep' dem on t' udder side from de top o' de hill. 'Twan' mo'n a minit,
+de sorrel come gallupin' back wid his mane flyin', an' de rein hangin'
+down on one side to his knee. 'Dyar!' says I, 'fo' Gord! I 'specks dey
+done kill Marse Chan, an' I promised to tek care on him.'
+
+"I jumped up an' run over de bank, an' dyar wid a whole lot o' dead
+men, an' some not dead yit, onder one o' de guns wid de fleg still in
+he han', an' a bullet right th'oo he body, lay Marse Chan. I tu'n' 'im
+over an' call 'im 'Marse Chan!' but 'twan' no use, he wuz done gone
+home, sho' 'nuff. I pick' 'im up in my arms wid de fleg still in he
+han's, an' toted 'im back jes' like I did dat day when he wuz a baby,
+an' ole marster gin 'im to me in my arms, an' sez he could trus' me,
+an' tell me to tek keer on 'im long ez he lived. I kyar'd 'im 'way off
+de battlefiel' out de way o' de balls, an' I laid 'im down onder a big
+tree tell I could git somebody to ketch de sorrel for me. He wuz
+cotched arfter awhile, an' I hed some money, so I got some pine plank
+an' made a coffin dat evenin', an' wrapt Marse Chan's body up in de
+fleg, an' put 'im in de coffin; but I didn' nail de top on strong,
+'cause I knowed ole missis wan' see 'im; an' I got a' ambulance an'
+set out for home dat night. We reached dyar de nex' evenin', arfter
+travellin' all dat night an' all nex' day.
+
+"Hit 'peared like somethin' hed tole ole missis we wuz comin' so; for
+when we got home she wuz waitin' for us--done drest up in her best
+Sunday-clo'es, an' stan'in' at de head o' de big steps, an' ole
+marster settin' in his big cheer--ez we druv up de hill to'ds de
+house, I drivin' de ambulance an' de sorrel leadin' 'long behine wid
+de stirrups crost over de saddle.
+
+"She come down to de gate to meet us. We took de coffin out de
+ambulance an' kyar'd it right into de big parlor wid de pictures in
+it, whar dey use' to dance in ole times when Marse Chan wuz a
+school-boy, an' Miss Anne Chahmb'lin use' to come over, an' go wid ole
+missis into her chamber an' tek her things off. In dyar we laid de
+coffin on two o' de cheers, an' ole missis nuvver said a wud; she jes'
+looked so ole an' white.
+
+"When I had tell 'em all 'bout it, I tu'ned right 'roun' an' rid over
+to Cun'l Chahmb'lin's, 'cause I knowed dat wuz what Marse Chan he'd
+'a' wanted me to do. I didn' tell nobody whar I wuz gwine, 'cause yo'
+know none on 'em hadn' nuvver speak to Miss Anne, not sence de duil,
+an' dey didn' know 'bout de letter.
+
+"When I rid up in de yard, dyar wuz Miss Anne a-stan'in' on de poach
+watchin' me ez I rid up. I tied my hoss to de fence, an' walked up de
+parf. She knowed by de way I walked dyar wuz somethin' de motter, an'
+she wuz mighty pale. I drapt my cap down on de een' o' de steps an'
+went up. She nuvver opened her mouf; jes' stan' right still an' keep
+her eyes on my face. Fust, I couldn' speak; den I cotch my voice, an'
+I say, 'Marse Chan, he done got he furlough.'
+
+"Her face was mighty ashy, an' she sort o' shook, but she didn' fall.
+She tu'ned roun' an' said, 'Git me de ker'ige!' Dat wuz all.
+
+"When de ker'ige come 'roun', she hed put on her bonnet, an' wuz
+ready. Ez she got in, she sey to me, 'Hev yo' brought him home?' an'
+we drove 'long, I ridin' behine.
+
+"When we got home, she got out, an' walked up de big walk--up to de
+poach by herse'f. Ole missis hed done fin' de letter in Marse Chan's
+pocket, wid de love in it, while I wuz 'way, an' she wuz a-waitin' on
+de poach. Dey sey dat wuz de fust time ole missis cry when she find de
+letter, an' dat she sut'n'y did cry over it, pintedly.
+
+"Well, seh, Miss Anne she walks right up de steps, mos' up to ole
+missis stan'in' dyar on de poach, an' jes' falls right down mos' to
+her, on her knees fust, an' den flat on her face right on de flo',
+ketchin' at ole missis' dress wid her two han's--so.
+
+"Ole missis stood for 'bout a minit lookin' down at her, an' den she
+drapt down on de flo' by her, an' took her in bofe her arms.
+
+"I couldn' see, I wuz cryin' so myse'f, an' ev'ybody wuz cryin'. But
+dey went in arfter a while in de parlor, an' shet de do'; an' I hyard
+'em say, Miss Anne she tuk de coffin in her arms an' kissed it, an'
+kissed Marse Chan, an' call 'im by his name, an' her darlin', an' ole
+missis lef' her cryin' in dyar tell some on 'em went in, an' found her
+done faint on de flo'.
+
+"Judy (she's my wife) she tell me she heah Miss Anne when she axed ole
+missis mout she wear mo'nin' fur 'im. I don' know how dat is; but when
+we buried 'im nex' day, she wuz de one whar walked arfter de coffin,
+holdin' ole marster, an' ole missis she walked next to 'em."
+
+"Well, we buried Marse Chan dyar in de ole grabeyard, wid de fleg
+wrapped roun' 'im, an' he face lookin' like it did dat mawnin' down in
+de low groun's, wid de new sun shinin' on it so peaceful.
+
+"Miss Anne she nuvver went home arfter dat; she stay wid ole marster
+an' ole missis ez long ez dey lived. Dat warn' so mighty long, 'cause
+ole marster he died dat fall, when dey wuz fallerin' fur wheat--I had
+jes' married Judy den--an' ole missis she warn' long behine him. We
+buried her by him next summer. Miss Anne she went in de hospitals
+toreckly arfter ole missis died; an' jes' fo' Richmond fell she come
+home sick wid de fever. Yo' nuvver would 'a' knowed her fur de same
+ole Miss Anne. She wuz light ez a piece o' peth, an' so white, 'cep'
+her eyes an' her sorrel hyar, an' she kep' on gittin' whiter an'
+weaker. Judy she sut'n'y did nuss her faithful. But she nuvver got no
+betterment! De fever an' Marse Chan's bein' kilt hed done strain her,
+an' she died jes' 'fo' de folks wuz sot free.
+
+"So we buried Miss Anne right by Marse Chan, in a place whar ole
+missis hed tole us to leave, an' dey's bofe on 'em sleep side by side
+over in de ole grabeyard at home.
+
+"An' will yo' please tell me, marster? Dey tells me dat de Bible sey
+dyar won' be marryin' nor givin' in marriage in heaven, but I don'
+b'lieve it signifies dat--does yo'?"
+
+I gave him the comfort of my earnest belief in some other
+interpretation, together with several spare "eighteen-pences," as he
+called them, for which he seemed humbly grateful. And as I rode away I
+heard him calling across the fence to his wife, who was standing in
+the door of a small whitewashed cabin, near which we had been standing
+for some time:
+
+"Judy, have Marse Chan's dawg got home?"
+
+
+
+
+MR. BIXBY'S CHRISTMAS VISITOR.
+
+BY CHARLES S. GAGE.
+
+_Appleton's Journal, December 30, 1871._
+
+
+At the head of the first flight of stairs, and on opposite sides of
+the landing, were the respective rooms of Mr. Bixby and Mr. Bangs. The
+house in which they lived stood in a quiet and retired street on the
+lower and western side of New York, a locality which was once
+inhabited by fashionable families, afterward by old-fashioned
+families, and at the time of our story by the keepers of
+boarding-houses for single men.
+
+Mr. Henry Bixby and Mr. Alfred Bangs were single men--Mr. Bangs, the
+wine-merchant, because he liked wine and song so well that he never
+had leisure to think of women, because he was fat, because he was red
+in the face, and, if more reasons are necessary, because his fingers
+were chubby and short. For twenty years, day by day, Mr. Bangs had
+been absorbed in business. For twenty years, night after night, it
+had been his custom to entertain his friends at his apartment in not a
+very quiet way. He was so happy, and bulbous, and jolly, that he had
+never thought of marriage. Yet he might easily have been mistaken by
+the casual observer for a family man. He wore a white vest when it
+wasn't too cold; his linen was painfully plain. There was not a sign
+of jewelry about him. He wore low shoes, which he tied with a ribbon.
+This was Mr. Bangs.
+
+Not quite so old in years as the opposite lodger was Mr. Bixby, known
+to his few friends as a genial philosopher and poet, to the public as
+the literary critic of one of the great daily papers. He might have
+been thirty-five years of age, but, as he had lived more for others
+than for himself, as he had made a study and not a pleasure of life,
+his gray eyes and the other features of his face suggested to whoever
+met him a longer past. There was something about him that caused men
+to wonder, not what he was, but what he had been.
+
+For ten years Mr. Bangs and Mr. Bixby had been inmates of the house
+together. Mr. Bangs had been there longer. The present landlady had
+received as a legacy from her predecessor, who did not care to take
+him away, Mr. Bangs. As she said, she made a present of Bangs.
+
+Long as they had known each other, the two lodgers were only
+acquaintances. Sometimes, on a Sunday afternoon, they would walk out
+in company, stroll down to the Battery, and there smoke their cigars
+and watch the ships, but beyond this point of sociability, which
+neither enjoyed, there was nothing more. Never had Bixby read Bangs
+any poem he had made, nor did ever Bangs invite Bixby to meet his
+convivial friends of an evening to play whist or to partake of his
+mulled ale. In fact, Mr. Bixby had been often and with great
+enthusiasm voted an unsocial fellow by the cronies of Mr. Bangs, but
+he rose somewhat in their estimation when they were informed that he
+had consented to exchange rooms with their host.
+
+"He isn't such a grouty fellow, after all," said Bangs. "I told him
+that we were too near the street, and that some one had been
+complaining to the landlady of our singing. He didn't even stop to
+think, but agreed to do it at once. He thought the light would be
+better here. Now, fellows, I call that doing the fair thing."
+
+And the speech of Mr. Bangs was applauded.
+
+It was the morning of the day before Christmas that the change was
+effected. In the closet where had been the bottles, the decanters,
+glasses, and pickle-jars of the late occupant, Mr. Bixby had arranged
+shelves, and filled them with his books. Over the mantel, from which
+Mr. Bangs had taken away a colored print of a bull-dog in an overcoat,
+Mr. Bixby hung a fine engraving of the Madonna, and on the mantel
+itself he had placed his clock. It was a small French clock under a
+crystal, so that its rapidly-swinging pendulum could be easily seen.
+All bachelors, however negligent of their surroundings, have some one
+hobby among articles of furniture. It may be an easy-chair, or a
+book-case, or a chandelier--there is one thing that must be the best
+of its kind. There could be no doubt, from the care with which Mr.
+Bixby placed his clock in its position, and from time to time compared
+it with his watch, that this was his hobby. It had the three
+requisites which he demanded in a clock. It kept correct time without
+failing, its pendulum swung rapidly, and was plainly visible. Time
+past was the happiness of Mr. Bixby, and this clock told him
+continually that all was being done that could be done to induce the
+hours of every day to go over to the majority. He depended upon this
+clock. He was surer of its mechanism than of that of his own heart.
+
+What with hanging his pictures and arranging his furniture, and with
+many other little things which had to be done, Mr. Bixby was busily
+employed all day. But the task was not an unpleasant one. His heart
+was in the work, for there was hardly an object in the room not nearly
+associated with some event in his past life. After carefully brushing
+the dust from an old writing-desk, which had evidently once belonged
+to a lady, he placed it upon the rug in front of the fire. Only on
+Christmas-eves was this desk opened.
+
+"It is curious," thought Mr. Bixby, "that I should have moved this
+day, of all days in the year!"
+
+Often in his work he thought of stopping to take from the desk an old
+packet of letters, and reading them once more. But it was not yet
+time, and, moreover, he was continually interrupted. First, there came
+some one to his door with "Two dozen Congress-water for Mr. Bangs;"
+then one with "Mr. Bangs's boots," and another to tell Mr. Bangs that
+"the pup was big enough to take away." Finally, came Bangs himself, to
+complain of like interruptions, and to bid him good-by.
+
+"Here is some manuscript a boy left for you. You will have to attend
+both doors now. I am off to spend Christmas. We are going to have a
+Tom-and-Jerry party in Jersey. You know--
+
+     "'The Tom-and-Jerry days have come, the happiest in the year!'
+
+"Good rendering, eh? That isn't all:
+
+     "'I only wish to live till the juleps come again!'"
+
+And Mr. Bangs laughed uproariously, even after he had said, "Good-by,"
+and shut the door behind him.
+
+"What a personification of Bacchus!" thought Mr. Bixby--
+
+     "'Ever laughing, ever young.'
+
+"He will be young as long as he lives, but I am afraid that won't be
+long. If ever there was a man in immediate danger of apoplexy, Bangs
+is that man."
+
+It was after dinner when Mr. Bixby lighted his drop-light and sat down
+before the fire. He pushed an ottoman in front of him, on which to
+rest his feet, which he had comfortably encased in his slippers. But
+the shadows in his new room did not please him. He could hardly see
+the clock on the mantel. The Madonna above was completely in the
+shade. So he lighted the chandelier above and sat down again, hoping
+that no friend, either of his own or of Mr. Bangs, would interrupt
+him. The desk was open at his feet. The package of letters lay near
+him on the table. He placed his hand upon them, but let it rest there.
+The hour had not quite arrived when he would read them. He fell again
+into the reveries of the day. He lingered over the thoughts of his
+better life ere he opened the packet which told of its end. For
+the last ten years he had labored without ambition, and had been
+successful. His name was well known as a journalist, and his
+salary was ample. Before that time he had striven ambitiously, but
+fruitlessly, patiently, but as in a quicksand, until, on a day, he had
+none to strive for but himself, and then success had come. Since noon,
+seven hours and twenty-nine minutes, said the clock before him. His
+anniversary was near. Mr. Bixby drew the letters near him, and untied
+the package. Just then there came a knock at his door, and, before he
+had determined whether or not he should say, "Come in," the door
+opened, and an elderly gentleman stepped into the apartment. Quietly
+he came in. There was no sound attending his entrance except the
+knock. Mr. Bixby, looking up, saw a man of more than ordinary height,
+with countenance rigid and puritanical in expression, as though the
+mind which had formed it was one influenced more by justice than
+mercy. His eyes were concealed by a pair of colored spectacles, but
+these, as they caught and reflected the light, were brighter and more
+startling than any eyes could have been. He was dressed in a long
+surtout, which he wore closely buttoned, high dickey, and high
+black-silk stock, which covered his throat to his chin. His iron-gray
+hair was brushed somewhat pompously backward over his forehead, and
+his whole effect was that of a gentleman of the generation which wore
+bell-crowned hats and carried enormous canes with tassels. But what
+attracted Mr. Bixby's particular attention were the wrinkles of his
+face. These were in all places where wrinkles should not be. One ran
+straight through the centre of his forehead, continuing the line of
+the nose upward to the hair. Two others, starting from the bridge of
+the nose, ran diagonally down to the nostrils. He was close-shaven,
+and his lips were straight and thin. These peculiarities of his
+visitor Mr. Bixby had barely time to mark when the gentleman said:
+
+"Ah, Mr. Bangs, I am glad to find you in!"
+
+Mr. Bixby never in his life more desired to be alone, and yet there
+was something in this old man which so attracted him that he could not
+correct his mistake. He felt a sudden fascination and desire to know
+more of him. Bangs was away and could not be seen. The gentleman could
+not be very well acquainted with Bangs, very probably never had seen
+him, or he would not have made such an error. But nothing but the
+influence which seemed to proceed from his visitor could have induced
+Mr. Bixby to answer as he did.
+
+"Thank you, sir. Pray, take this chair."
+
+As he said this, he arose and wheeled an easy-chair to the other side
+of the table.
+
+The elderly gentleman sat down.
+
+"You have a very cheerful apartment here, Mr. Bangs."
+
+"Yes. I always like to be comfortable."
+
+"Of course," said the elderly gentleman.
+
+"Will you remove your overcoat, sir?" asked Mr. Bixby, and immediately
+repented it.
+
+"Oh, no, I shall stop but a moment."
+
+There was an interval of silence. A block of coal broke open in the
+grate and fell apart. A jet of gas burst forth and burned, then
+sputtered and went out. Mr. Bixby wondered on what business he had
+come, and why he did not open the subject at once, if he was only
+intending to stop a moment.
+
+"It is very disagreeable weather out," said the man with the pompous
+forelock, interrupting his reflections.
+
+"Snowing?" asked Bixby.
+
+"No--sleet."
+
+"Very unpleasant to have far to go such a night," suggested Bixby,
+who could think of nothing better to say.
+
+"Not at all," responded the old gentleman, authoritatively.
+
+Bixby was silent again.
+
+The old gentleman, leaning with his elbow on the table, began again.
+
+"You like to live well, Mr. Bangs?"
+
+"I try to," answered Mr. Bixby.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"This must be some relative of Bangs come to deliver him a lecture on
+his course of life. Why don't he broach his advice at once?" thought
+Mr. Bixby. The visitor here pulled a glove from his right hand, ran
+his fingers through his hair, and then, in a more business-like tone,
+spoke again:
+
+"Although a stranger to you personally, Mr. Bangs, I have always taken
+a great interest in your family. Mr. Bangs, I knew your father."
+
+"Indeed! I never heard him speak--"
+
+"No, I dare say; it was near the end of his life. I was near by, and
+rendered him some assistance, when he died suddenly of apoplexy. He
+was not so much of a man as your grandfather."
+
+"Was he not?" asked Mr. Bixby, musingly. He was thinking how old the
+grandfather of his friend Bangs must have been.
+
+"No," continued the elderly gentleman; "but even his judgment I never
+considered equal to that of your great-grandfather."
+
+"Here is, indeed, a friend--a friend of the family. Why is Mr. Bangs
+away?" thought Mr. Bixby, and he bent his head a little, and looked
+under the drop-light, to get a view of his visitor. He saw only the
+reflection on his spectacles, and drew back suddenly, for fear of
+being detected.
+
+"You like a good song, I have heard, Mr. Bangs," came from the other
+side of the table. "Have you any favorite?"
+
+Mr. Bixby did not understand this at all. The question puzzled him.
+Should he as Bangs fall in the estimation of some relative if he
+admitted the fact? Or did his visitor intend to sing? However, he felt
+compelled to be frank, so he said:
+
+"Oh, yes; I like a good song. Some of the Scotch ballads please me
+most. There is 'The Land o' the Leal.'"
+
+"A very fine song, sir. A very fine song. It is a credit to any man to
+like that song."
+
+The old gentleman was excited. Mr. Bixby was just congratulating
+himself on having given Bangs a lift, when his thoughts were turned
+into an altogether new channel by the following remark:
+
+"It was my impression, however, that your taste ran rather in the way
+of drinking-songs. I should have thought now you would have said, 'The
+Coal-Black Wine.'"
+
+There was something in the tone with which this was uttered that made
+Mr. Bixby shudder. It ran through his mind that this man was some
+enemy of Bangs--that he was dangerous. Startled by this sudden
+suspicion, tremblingly he again peered under the shade. The wrinkle
+in the line of the frontal suture was more deeply indented. The light
+on the spectacles was brighter than ever.
+
+"Mr. Bangs, I called on your opposite neighbor, Mr. Bixby, to-night. I
+knocked on the door, but he was away."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Bixby, somewhat confused. He wished that Bangs had
+stayed at home, and determined to end the interview as soon as
+possible.
+
+"Yes. I am sorry. I had a positive appointment with him. I am a great
+friend of his."
+
+"Does he know you?"
+
+"Oh, no; we have never met personally that he remembers. I am an old
+friend of the family. He suffers from the heart-disease, and has been
+expecting me."
+
+"Oh, you are a physician?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I attended his father at his last illness."
+
+Mr. Bixby's heart began to beat rapidly. His mind became equally
+active, and, although he had no experience to be guided by, he began
+to suspect the nature of this man's business with Bangs. He almost
+determined to discover himself, but the letters were yet unread. If
+that were only done, he would do anything his visitor might request.
+Recalling the old gentleman's last words, he said, at last, calmly:
+
+"And his mother?"
+
+"Yes, and his mother."
+
+The old man's voice assumed almost a kindly tone.
+
+"He is, indeed, a friend of my family," thought Mr. Bixby; and then he
+started, for fear he might have spoken aloud.
+
+His eyes fell upon the packet of letters. He must read them. He must
+end the interview. The old doctor must have noticed Mr. Bixby's eyes,
+with the tears rising in them, as he tenderly touched the letters one
+by one, for it was with a voice very gentle and low that he spoke
+again.
+
+"I attended once a very dear friend of his. It must be quite ten years
+ago now. Her name was Margaret. I think she loved him, for I
+remember--yes--it was one Christmas-eve, she said, and after that she
+said no more, 'Has Harry come?'"
+
+Mr. Bixby could bear no more. His sobs were striving for utterance.
+His fingers grasped the strong oak arms of his chair. It was only the
+thought of the letters which gave him strength to say:
+
+"I am sorry, sir. You mistake me. I must ask you to leave me. You may
+come again. I shall be here, but I have something I would do to-night.
+I have given you much of my time. It is already late."
+
+"It is you who mistake, Mr. Bangs. But I am going now. I said I would
+stop but a moment. I have kept my promise, as you will see by your
+clock."
+
+Before his hands fell listless from the arms of the chair--before his
+lips parted, but not for speech--ay, just before that quick, strong
+pain in his heart, Mr. Bixby saw on the white dial the black hands yet
+pointing to the seven hours and the twenty-nine minutes, the pendulum
+moveless, still, half-way on the upward journey of the arc.
+
+The elderly gentleman arose, walked round the table, and smiled,
+himself, as he saw a smile of perfected happiness on the face of the
+dead, when so lately sorrow itself had been pictured on the face of
+the living.
+
+"It was hard to deceive him, but he will thank me now," said he of the
+gray locks and wrinkled visage. "And here are the letters which he
+does not need."
+
+Had the old man no more appointments to keep? For he took up one of
+the letters and opened it. A lock of golden hair fell unnoticed to the
+floor. Then he read silently, and, after a while, aloud:
+
+     "I hope you will come and see me on Christmas-eve, for I am
+     not well. I long for you more than I can say. You must be
+     tired with your struggle in the great city, and need rest. O
+     Harry! come and comfort her that loves you, as you well
+     know.
+
+                         "MARGARET."
+
+The bells of Trinity commenced ringing.
+
+"He was tired, and he needed rest," said Death.
+
+
+
+
+ELI.
+
+BY C. H. WHITE.
+
+_Century Magazine, November, 1881._
+
+
+                         I.
+
+Under a boat, high and dry, at low tide, on the beach, John Wood was
+seated in the sand, sheltered from the sun in the boat's shadow,
+absorbed in the laying on of verdigris. The dull, worn color was
+rapidly giving place to a brilliant, shining green. Occasionally a
+scraper, which lay by, was taken up to remove the last trace of a
+barnacle.
+
+It was Wood's boat, but he was not a boatman; he painted cleverly, but
+he was not a painter. He kept the brown store under the elms of the
+main street, now hot and still, where at this moment his blushing
+sister was captivating the heart of an awkward farmer's boy, as she
+sold him a pair of striped suspenders.
+
+As the church-clock struck the last of twelve decided blows, three
+children came rushing out of the house on the bank above the beach. It
+was one of those deceptive New England cottages, weather-worn without,
+but bright and bountifully home-like within--with its trim parlor,
+proud of a cabinet organ; with its front hall, now cooled by the light
+sea-breeze drifting through the blind-door, where a tall clock issued
+its monotonous call to a siesta on the rattan lounge; with its spare
+room, open now, opposite the parlor, and now, too, drawing in the salt
+air through close-shut blinds, in anticipation of the joyful arrival
+this evening of Sister Sarah, with her little brood, from the city.
+
+The children scampered across the road, and then the eldest hushed the
+others and sent a little brother ahead to steal, barefoot, along the
+shining sea-weed to his father.
+
+The plotted surprise appeared to succeed completely. The painter was
+seized by the ears from behind, and captured.
+
+"Guess who's here, or you can't get up," said the infant captor.
+
+"It's Napoleon Bonaparte; don't joggle," said his father, running a
+brush steadily along the water-line.
+
+"No! no! no!" with shouts of laughter from the whole attacking party.
+
+"Then it's Captain Ezekiel?"
+
+This excited great merriment: Captain Ezekiel was an aged, purblind
+man, who leaned on a cane.
+
+After attempts to identify the invader--with the tax-collector come
+for taxes, then with the elderly minister making a pastoral call, with
+the formal schoolmaster, and with Samuel J. Tilden--the victim reached
+over his shoulder, and, seizing the assailant by a handful of calico
+jacket, brought him around, squirming, before him.
+
+"Now," he said, "I'll give you a coat of verdigris."
+
+(Great applause from the reserve force behind.)
+
+"I suppose Mother sent you to say dinner's ready," said the father,
+rising and surveying the green bottom of the boat. "I must eat quick,
+so as to do the other side before half-flood."
+
+And with a child on each shoulder, and the third pushing him from
+behind with her head, he marched toward the vine-covered kitchen,
+where, between two opposite netted doors, the table was trimly set.
+
+"Father, you look like a mermaid, with your green hands," said his
+wife, laughing, as she handed him the spirits of turpentine. "A woman
+could paint that boat, in a light dress, and not get a spot on her."
+
+He smiled good-naturedly: he never spoke much.
+
+"I guess Louise won't have much trade to-day," said his wife, as they
+all sat down; "it's so hot in the sun that everybody'll wait till
+night. But she has her tatting-work to do, and she's got a book, too,
+that she wanted to finish."
+
+Her husband nodded, and ate away.
+
+"Oh, can't we go up street and see her, this afternoon?" said one of
+the children.
+
+"Who can that be?" said the mother, as an elderly,
+half-official-looking man stopped his horse at the front gate and
+alighted. The man left the horse unchecked to browse by the road-side,
+and came to the door.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Captain Nourse," said Wood, rising to open the netting
+door, and holding out his hand. "Come to summons me as a witness in
+something about the bank case, I suppose. Let me introduce Captain
+Nourse, Mary," he said, "deputy sheriff. Sit down, Captain, and have
+some dinner with us."
+
+"No, I guess I won't set," said the captain. "I cal'lated not to eat
+till I got home, in the middle o' the arternoon. No, I'll set down in
+eye-shot of the mare, and read the paper while you eat."
+
+"I hope they don't want me to testify anywhere to-day," said Wood;
+"because my boat's half verdigris'd, and I want to finish her this
+afternoon."
+
+"No testimony to-day," said the captain. "Hi! hi! Kitty!" he called to
+the mare, as she began to meander across the road; and he went out to
+a tree by the front fence, and sat down on a green bench, beside a
+work-basket and a half-finished child's dress, and read the country
+paper which he had taken from the office as he came along.
+
+After dinner Wood went out bare-headed, and leaned on the fence by the
+captain. His wife stood just inside the door, looking out at them.
+
+The "bank case" was the great sensation of the town, and Wood was one
+of the main witnesses, for he had been taking the place of the absent
+cashier when the safe was broken open and rifled, to the widespread
+distress of depositors and stock-holders and the ruin of Hon. Edward
+Clark, the president. Wood had locked the safe on the afternoon before
+the eventful night, and had carried home the key with him, and he was
+to testify to the contents of the safe as he had left it.
+
+"I guess they're glad they've got such a witness as John," said his
+wife to herself, as she looked at him fondly, "and I guess they think
+there won't be much doubt about what he says."
+
+"Well, Captain," said Wood, jocosely, breaking a spear of grass to
+bits in his fingers, "I didn't know but you'd come to arrest me."
+
+The captain calmly smiled as only a man can smile who has been
+accosted with the same humorous remark a dozen times a day for twenty
+years. He folded his paper carefully, put it in his pocket, took off
+his spectacles and put them in their silver case, took a red silk
+handkerchief from his hat, wiped his face, and put the handkerchief
+back. Then he said, shortly:
+
+"That's what I _have_ come for."
+
+Wood, still leaning on the fence, looked at him, and said nothing.
+
+"That's just what I've come for," said Captain Nourse. "I've got to
+arrest you; here's the warrant." And he handed it to him.
+
+"What does this mean?" said Wood. "I can't make head nor tail of
+this."
+
+"Well," said the captain, "the long and short is: these high-toned
+detectives that they've had down from town, seein' as our own force
+wasn't good enough, allow that the safe was unlocked with a key, in
+due form, and then the lock was broke afterward, to look as if it had
+been forced open. They've had the foreman of the safe-men down, too,
+and he says the same thing. Naturally, the argument is: there were
+only two keys in existence; one was safe with the president of the
+bank, and is about all he's got to show out of forty years' savings;
+the only other one you had: consequently it heaves it on to you."
+
+"I see," said Wood. "I will go with you. Do you want to come into the
+house with me while I get my coat?"
+
+"Well, I suppose I must keep you in sight--now, you know."
+
+And they went into the house.
+
+"Mary," said her husband, "the folks that lost by Clark when the bank
+broke have been at him until he's felt obliged to pitch on somebody,
+and he's pitched on me; and Captain Nourse has come to arrest me. I
+shall get bail before long."
+
+She said nothing, and did not shed a tear till he was gone.
+
+But then----
+
+
+                         II.
+
+Wide wastes of salt marsh to the right, imprisoning the upland
+with a vain promise of infinite liberty, and, between low, distant
+sand-hills, a rim of sea. Stretches of pine woods behind, shutting in
+from the great outer world, and soon to darken into evening gloom.
+Ploughed fields and elm-dotted pastures to the left, and birch-lined
+roads leading by white farm-houses to the village, all speaking
+of cheer and freedom to the prosperous and the happy, but to the
+unfortunate and the indebted, of meshes invisible but strong as steel.
+But, before, no lonesome marshes, no desolate forest, no farm or
+village street, but the free blue ocean, rolling and tumbling still
+from the force of an expended gale.
+
+In the open door-way of a little cottage, warmed by the soft slanting
+rays of the September sun, a rough man, burnt and freckled, was
+sitting, at his feet a net, engaged upon some handiwork which two
+little girls were watching. Close by him lay a setter, his nose
+between his paws. Occasionally the man raised his eyes to scan the
+sea.
+
+"There's Joel," he said, "comin' in around the Bar. Not much air
+stirrin' now!"
+
+Then he turned to his work again.
+
+"First, you go _so_ fash'," he said to the children, as he drew a
+thread; "then you go _so_ fash'."
+
+And as he worked he made a great show of labor, much to their
+diversion.
+
+But the sight of Joel's broad white sail had not brought pleasant
+thoughts to his mind. For Joel had hailed him, off the Shoal, the
+afternoon before, and had obligingly offered to buy his fish, right
+there, and so let him go directly home, omitting to mention that
+sudden jump of price due to an empty market.
+
+"Wonder what poor man he's took a dollar out of to-day! Well, I s'pose
+it's all right: those that's got money, want money."
+
+"What be you, Eli--ganging on hooks?" said Aunt Patience, as she
+tip-toed into the kitchen behind him, from his wife's sick-room, and
+softly closed the door after her.
+
+"No," said the elder of the children; "he's mending our stockings, and
+showing me how."
+
+"Well, you do have a hard time, don't you?" said Aunt Patience,
+looking down over his shoulder; "to slave and tug and scrape to get a
+house over your head, and then to have to turn square 'round, and stay
+to home with a sick woman, and eat all into it with mortgages!"
+
+"Oh, well," he said, "we'll fetch, somehow."
+
+Aunt Patience went to the glass, and holding a black pin in her mouth,
+carefully tied the strings of her sun-bonnet.
+
+"Anyway," she says, "you take it good-natured. Though if there is one
+thing that's harder than another, it is to be good-natured all the
+time, without being aggravating. I have known men that was so awfully
+good-natured that they was harder to live with than if they was
+cross!"
+
+And without specifying further, she opened her plaid parasol, and
+stepped out at the porch.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Though, on this quiet afternoon of Saturday, the peace of the
+approaching Sabbath seemed already brooding over the little dwelling,
+peace had not lent her hand to the building of the home. Every foot of
+land, every shingle, every nail, had been wrung from the reluctant
+sea. Every voyage had contributed something. It was a great day when
+Eli was able to buy the land. Then, between two voyages, he dug a
+cellar and laid a foundation; then he saved enough to build the main
+part of the cottage and to finish the front room, lending his own hand
+to the work. Then he used to get letters at every port, telling of
+progress--how Lizzie, his wife, had adorned the front room with a
+bright nine-penny paper, of which a little piece was inclosed, which
+he kept as a sort of charm about him and exhibited to his friends; how
+she and her little brother had lathed the entry and the kitchen, and
+how they had set out blackberry vines from the woods. Then another
+letter told of a surprise awaiting him on his return; and, in due
+time, coming home as third mate from Hong Kong to a seaman's
+tumultuous welcome, he had found that a great, good-natured mason,
+with whose sick child his wife had watched, night after night, had
+appeared one day with lime and hair and sand, and in white raiment,
+and had plastered the entry and the kitchen, and finished a room
+upstairs.
+
+And so, for years, at home and on the sea, at New York, and at
+Valparaiso, and in the Straits of Malacca, the little house and the
+little family within it had grown into the fibre of Eli's heart.
+Nothing had given him more delight than to meet, in the strange
+streets of Calcutta or before the Mosque of Omar, some practical
+Yankee from Stonington or Machias, and, whittling, to discuss with
+him, among the turbans of the Orient, the comparative value of shaved
+and of sawed shingles, or the economy of "Swedes-iron" nails, and to
+go over with him the estimates and plans which he had worked out in
+his head under all the constellations of the skies.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The supper things were cleared away. The children had said good-night
+and gone to bed, and Eli had been sitting for an hour by his wife's
+bedside. He had had to tax his patience and ingenuity heavily during
+the long months that she had lain there to entertain her for a little
+while in the evening, after his hard, wet day's work. He had been
+talking now of the coming week, when he was to serve upon the jury in
+the adjoining county-town.
+
+"I cal'late I can come home about every night," he said, "and it'll be
+quite a change, at any rate."
+
+"But you don't seem so cheerful about it as I counted you would be,"
+said his wife. "Are you afraid you'll have to be on the bank-case?"
+
+"Not much!" he answered. "No trouble 'n that case! Jury won't leave
+their seats. These city fellers'll find they've bit off more'n they
+can chew when they try to figure out John Wood done that. I only hope
+I'll have the luck to be on that case--all hands on the jury whisper
+together a minute, and then clear him, right on the spot, and then
+shake hands with him all 'round!"
+
+"But something is worrying you," she said. "What is it? You have
+looked it since noon."
+
+"Oh, nothin'," he replied--"only George Cahoon came up to-noon to say
+that he was goin' West next week, and that he would have to have that
+money he let me have a while ago. And where to get it--I don't know."
+
+
+                         III.
+
+The court-room was packed. John Wood's trial was drawing to its close.
+Eli was on the jury. Some one had advised the prosecuting attorney, in
+a whisper, to challenge him, but he had shaken his head and said:
+
+"Oh, I couldn't afford to challenge him for that; it would only leak
+out, and set the jury against me. I'll risk his standing out against
+this evidence."
+
+The trial had been short. It had been shown how the little building
+of the bank had been entered. Skilled locksmiths from the city had
+testified that the safe was opened with a key, and that the lock was
+broken afterward, from the inside--plainly to raise the theory of a
+forcible entry by strangers.
+
+It had been proved that the only key in existence, not counting that
+kept by the president, was in the possession of Wood, who was filling,
+for a few days, the place of the cashier--the president's brother--in
+his absence. It had been shown that Wood was met, at one o'clock of
+the night in question, crossing the fields toward his home, from the
+direction of the bank, with a large wicker basket slung over his
+shoulders, returning, as he had said, from eel-spearing in Harlow's
+Creek; and there was other circumstantial evidence.
+
+Mr. Clark, the president of the bank, had won the sympathy of every
+one by the modest way in which, with eye-glasses in hand, he had
+testified to the particulars of the loss which had left him penniless,
+and had ruined others whose little all was in his hands. And then, in
+reply to the formal question, he had testified, amid roars of laughter
+from the court-room, that it was not he who robbed the safe. At this,
+even the judge and Wood's lawyer had not restrained a smile.
+
+This had left the guilt with Wood. His lawyer, an inexperienced young
+attorney--who had done more or less business for the bank, and would
+hardly have ventured to defend this case but that the president had
+kindly expressed his entire willingness that he should do so--had, of
+course, not thought it worthwhile to cross-examine Mr. Clark, and had
+directed his whole argument against the theory that the safe had been
+opened with a key, and not by strangers. But he had felt all through
+that, as a man politely remarked to him when he finished, he was only
+butting his "head ag'in a stone wall."
+
+And while he was arguing, a jolly-looking old lawyer had written, in
+the fly-leaf of a law-book on his knee, and passed with a wink to a
+young man near him who had that very morning been admitted to the bar,
+these lines:
+
+     "When callow Blackstones soar too high,
+     Quit common-sense, and reckless fly,
+     Soon, Icarus-like, they headlong fall,
+     And down come client, case, and all."
+
+The district-attorney had not thought it worth while to expend much
+strength upon his closing argument; but being a jovial stump-speaker,
+of a wide reputation within narrow limits, he had not been able to
+refrain from making merry over Wood's statement that the basket which
+he had been seen bearing home, on the eventful night, was a basket of
+eels.
+
+"Fine eels those, gentlemen! We have seen gold-fish and silver-fish,
+but golden eels are first discovered by this defendant. The apostle,
+in Holy Writ, caught a fish with a coin in its mouth; but this man
+leaves the apostle in the dim distance when he finds eels that are
+all money. No storied fisherman of Bagdad, catching enchanted princes
+disguised as fishes in the sea, ever hooked such a treasure as this
+defendant hooked when he hooked that basket of eels! [Rustling
+appreciation of the pun among the jury.] If a squirming, twisting,
+winding, wriggling eel, gentlemen, can be said at any given moment to
+have a back, we may distinguish this new-found species as the
+green-back eel. It is a common saying that no man can hold an eel and
+remain a Christian. I should like to have viewed the pious equanimity
+of this church-member when he laid his hands on that whole bed of
+eels. In happy, barefoot boyhood, gentlemen, we used to find
+mud-turtles marked with initials or devices cut in their shells; but
+what must have been our friend's surprise to find, in the muddy bed of
+Harlow's Creek, eels marked with a steel-engraving of the landing of
+Columbus, and the signature of the Register of the Treasury! I hear
+that a corporation is now being formed by the title of The Harlow's
+Creek Greenback National Bank-bill Eel-fishing Company, to follow up,
+with seines and spears, our worthy friend's discovery! I learn that
+the news of this rich placer has spread to the golden mountains of the
+West, and that the exhausted intellects which have been reduced to
+such names for their mines as 'The Tombstone,' 'The Red Dog,' the
+'Mrs. E. J. Parkhurst,' are likely now to flood us with prospectuses
+of the 'Eel Mine,' 'The Flat Eel,' 'The Double Eel,' and then, when
+they get ready to burst upon confiding friends, 'The Consolidated
+Eels.'"
+
+It takes but little to make a school or a court-room laugh, and the
+speech had appeared to give a good deal of amusement to the listeners.
+
+To all?
+
+Did it amuse that man who sat, with folded arms, harsh and rigid, at
+the dock? Did it divert that white-faced woman, cowering in a corner,
+listening as in a dream?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The judge now charged the jury briefly. It was unnecessary for him, he
+said, to recapitulate evidence of so simple a character. The chief
+question for the jury was as to the credibility of the witnesses. If
+the witnesses for the prosecution were truthful and were not mistaken,
+the inference of guilt seemed inevitable; this the defendant's counsel
+had conceded. The defendant had proved a good reputation; upon that
+point there was only this to be said: that, while such evidence was
+entitled to weight, yet, on the other hand, crimes involving a breach
+of trust could, from their very nature, be committed only by persons
+whose good reputations secured them positions of trust.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The jury-room had evidently not been furnished by a ring. There was a
+long table for debate, twelve hard chairs for repose, twelve spittoons
+for luxury, and a clock.
+
+The jury sat in silence for a few moments, as old Captain Nourse, who
+had them in his keeping, and eyed them as if he was afraid that he
+might lose one of them in a crack and be held accountable on his bond,
+rattled away at the unruly lock. Looking at them then, you would have
+seen faces all of a New England cast but one. There was a tall,
+powerful negro called George Washington, a man well known in this
+county town, to which he had come, as driftwood from the storm of war,
+in '65. Some of the "boys" had heard him, in a great prayer-meeting in
+Washington--a city which he always spoke of as his "namesake"--at the
+time of the great review, say, in his strong voice, with that pathetic
+quaver in it: "Like as de parched an' weary traveller hangs his harp
+upon de winder, an' sighs for oysters in de desert, so I longs to res'
+my soul an' my foot in Mass'chusetts;" and they were so delighted with
+him that they invited him on the spot to go home with them, and took
+up a collection to pay his fare, and so he was a public character. As
+for his occupation--when the census-taker, with a wink to the boys in
+the store, had asked him what it was, he had said, in that same odd
+tone: "Putties up glass a little--white-washes a little--" and, when
+the man had made a show of writing all that down, "preaches a little."
+He might have said "preaches a big," for you could hear him half a
+mile away.
+
+The foreman was a retired sea-captain. "Good cap'n--Cap'n Thomas,"
+one of his neighbors had said of him. "Allers gits good ships--never
+hez  to go huntin' 'round for a vessel. But it is astonishin' what
+differences they is! Now there's Cap'n A. K. P. Bassett, down to the
+West Harbor. You let it git 'round that Cap'n A. K. P. is goin' off on
+a Chiny voyage, and you'll see half a dozen old shays to onct, hitched
+all along his fence of an arternoon, and wimmen inside the house, to
+git Cap'n A. K. P. to take their boys. But you let Cap'n Thomas give
+out that he wants boys, and he hez to glean 'em--from the poor-house,
+and from step-mothers, and where he can: the wimmen knows! Still," he
+added, "Cap'n Thomas's a good cap'n. I've nothin' to say ag'in him.
+He's smart!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Gentlemen," said the foreman, when the officer, at last, had securely
+locked them in, "shall we go through the formality of a ballot? If the
+case were a less serious one, we might have rendered a verdict in our
+seats."
+
+"What's the use foolin' 'round ballotin'?" said a thick-set butcher.
+"Ain't we all o' one mind?"
+
+"It is for you to say, gentlemen," said the foreman. "I shouldn't want
+to have it go abroad that we had not acted formally, if there was any
+one disposed to cavil."
+
+"Mr. Speaker," said George Washington, rising and standing in the
+attitude of Webster, "I rises to appoint to order. We took ballast in
+de prior cases, and why make flesh of one man an' a fowl of another?"
+
+
+"Very well," said the foreman, a trifle sharply. "'The longest way
+round is the shortest way home.'"
+
+Twelve slips of paper were handed out, to be indorsed guilty, "for
+form." They were collected in a hat and the foreman told them
+over--"just for form." "'Guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty,' 'guilty';--wait
+a minute," he said, "here is a mistake. Here is one 'not
+guilty'--whose is this?"
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Whose is it?" said the foreman, sharply.
+
+Eli turned a little red.
+
+"It's mine," he said.
+
+"Do you mean it?" said the foreman.
+
+"Of course I mean it," he answered.
+
+"Whew!" whistled the foreman. "Very well, sir; we'll have an
+understanding, then. This case is proved to the satisfaction of every
+man who heard it, I may safely say, but one. Will that one please
+state the grounds of his opinion?"
+
+"I ain't no talker," said Eli, "but I ain't satisfied he's
+guilty--that's all."
+
+"Don't you believe the witnesses?"
+
+"Mostly."
+
+"Which one don't you believe?"
+
+"I can't say. I don't believe he's guilty."
+
+"Is there one that you think lied?"
+
+No answer.
+
+"Now it seems to me----" said a third juryman.
+
+"One thing at a time, gentlemen," said the foreman. "Let us wait for
+an answer from Mr. Smith. Is there any one that you think lied? We
+will wait, gentlemen, for an answer."
+
+There was a long pause. The trial seemed to Eli Smith to have shifted
+from the court to this shabby room, and he was now the culprit.
+
+All waited for him; all eyes were fixed upon him.
+
+The clock ticked loud! Eli counted the seconds. He knew the
+determination of the foreman.
+
+The silence became intense.
+
+"I want to say my say," said a short man in a pea-jacket--a retired
+San Francisco pilot, named Eldridge. "I entertain no doubt the man is
+guilty. At the same time, I allow for differences of opinion. I don't
+know this man that's voted 'not guilty,' but he seems to be a
+well-meaning man. I don't know his reasons; probably he don't
+understand the case. I should like to have the foreman tell the
+evidence over, so as if he don't see it clear, he can ask questions,
+and we can explain."
+
+"I second de motion," said George Washington.
+
+There was a general rustle of approval.
+
+"I move it," said the pilot, encouraged.
+
+"Very well, Mr. Eldridge," said the foreman. "If there is no
+objection, I will state the evidence, and if there is any loop-hole, I
+will trouble Mr. Smith to suggest it as I go along," and he proceeded
+to give a summary of the testimony, with homely force.
+
+"Now, sir?" he said, when he had finished.
+
+"I move for another ballot," said Mr. Eldridge.
+
+The result was the same. Eli had voted "not guilty."
+
+"Mr. Smith," said the foreman, "this must be settled in some way. This
+is no child's play. You can't keep eleven men here, trifling with
+them, giving no pretence of a reason."
+
+"I haven't any reasons, only that I don't believe he's guilty," said
+Eli. "I'm not goin' to vote a man into states-prison, when I don't
+believe he done it," and he rose and walked to the window, and looked
+out. It was low tide. There was a broad stretch of mud in the
+distance, covered with boats lying over disconsolate. A driving storm
+had emptied the streets. He beat upon the rain-dashed glass a moment
+with his fingers, and then he sat down again.
+
+"Well, sir," said the foreman, "this is singular conduct. What do you
+propose to do?"
+
+Silence.
+
+"I suppose you realize that the rest of us are pretty rapidly forming
+a conclusion on this matter," said the foreman.
+
+"Come! come!" said Mr. Eldridge; "don't be quite so hard on him,
+Captain. Now, Mr. Smith," he said, standing up with his hands in his
+coat-pockets, and looking at Eli, "we know that there often is crooked
+sticks on juries, that hold out alone--that's to be expected; but they
+always argue, and stand to it the rest are fools, and all that. Now,
+all is, we don't see why you don't sort of argue, if you've got
+reasons satisfactory to you. Come, now," he added, walking up to Eli,
+and resting one foot on the seat of his chair, "why don't you tell it
+over? and if we're wrong, I'm ready to join you."
+
+Eli looked up at him.
+
+"Didn't you ever know," he said, "of a man's takin' a cat off, to
+lose, that his little girl didn't want drownded, and leavin' him
+ashore, twenty or thirty miles, bee-line, from home, and that cat's
+bein' back again the next day, purrin' 'round 's if nothin' had
+happened?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Eldridge--"knew of just such a case."
+
+"Very well," said Eli; "how does he find his way home?"
+
+"Don't know," said Mr. Eldridge; "always has been a standing mystery
+to me."
+
+"Well," said Eli, "mark my words. There's such a thing as arguin', and
+there's such a thing as knowin' outright; and when you'll tell me how
+that cat inquires his way home, I'll tell you how I know John Wood
+ain't guilty."
+
+This made a certain sensation, and Eli's stock went up.
+
+An old, withered man rapped on the table.
+
+"That's so!" he said; "and there's other sing'lar things! How is it
+that a sea-farin' man, that's dyin' to home, will allers die on the
+ebb-tide? It never fails, but how does it happen? Tell me that! And
+there's more ways than one of knowin' things, too!"
+
+"I know that man ain't guilty," said Eli.
+
+"Hark ye!" said a dark old man with a troubled face, rising and
+pointing his finger toward Eli. "_Know_, you say? I _knew_, wunst. I
+_knew_ that my girl, my only child, was good. One night she went off
+with a married man that worked in my store, and stole my money--and
+where is she now?" And then he added, "What I _know_ is, that every
+man hes his price. I hev mine, and you hev yourn!"
+
+The impugnment of Eli's motives was evident to all.
+
+"'Xcuse me, Mr. Speaker," said George Washington, rising with his hand
+in his bosom; "as de question is befo' us, I wish to say that de las'
+bro' mus' have spoken under 'xcitement. Every man _don'_ have his
+price! An' I hope de bro' will recant--like as de Psalmist goes out o'
+his way to say '_In my haste_ I said, All men are liars.' He was a
+very busy man, de Psalmist--writin' down hymns all day, sharpen'n' his
+lead-pencil, bossin' 'roun' de choir--callin' Selah! Well, bro'n an'
+sisters"--both arms going out, and his voice going up--"one day, seems
+like, he was in gre't haste--got to finish a psalm for a monthly
+concert, or such--and some man incorrupted him, and lied; and bein' in
+gre't haste--and a little old Adam in him--he says, right off, quick:
+'_All_ men are liars!' But see--when he gets a little time to set back
+and meditate, he says: 'Dis won' do--dere's Moses, an' Job, an'
+Paul--dey ain't liars!' An' den he don' sneak out, and 'low he said,
+'All men is lions,' or such. No! de Psalmist ain't no such man; but he
+owns up, an' 'xplains: '_In my haste_,' he says, 'I said it.'"
+
+The foreman rose and rapped.
+
+"I await a motion," said he, "if our friend will allow me the
+privilege of speaking."
+
+Mr. Washington calmly bowed.
+
+Then the foreman, when nobody seemed disposed to move, speaking
+slowly, at first, and piece-meal, alternating language with smoke,
+gradually edged into the current of the evidence, and ended by going
+all over it again, with fresh force and point. His cigar glowed and
+chilled in the darkening room as he talked.
+
+"Now," he said, when he had drawn all the threads together to the
+point of guilt, "what are we going to do upon this evidence?"
+
+"I'll tell you something," said Eli. "I didn't want to say it because
+I know what you'll all think, but I'll tell you, all the same."
+
+"Ah!" said the foreman.
+
+Eli stood up and faced the others.
+
+"'Most all o' you know what our Bar is in a south-east gale. They
+ain't a man here that 'uld dare to try and cross it when the sea's
+breakin' on it. The man that says he would, lies!" And he looked at
+the foreman, and waited a moment.
+
+"When my wife took sick, and I stopped goin' to sea, two year ago, and
+took up boat-fishin', I didn't know half as much about the coast as
+the young boys do, and one afternoon it was blowin' a gale, and we
+was all hands comin' in, and passin' along the Bar to go sheer 'round
+it to the west'ard, and Captain Fred Cook--he's short-sighted--got on
+to the Bar before he knew it, and then he had to go ahead, whether or
+no; and I was right after him, and I s'posed he knew, and I followed
+him. Well, he was floated over, as luck was, all right; but when I'd
+just got on the Bar, a roller dropped back and let my bowsprit down
+into the sand, and then come up quicker'n lightnin' and shouldered the
+boat over, t'other end first, and slung me into the water; and when I
+come up, I see somethin' black, and there was John Wood's boat runnin'
+by me before the wind with a rush--and 'fore I knew an'thing he had me
+by the hair by one hand and in his boat, and we was over the Bar. Now,
+I tell you, a man that looks the way I saw him look when I come over
+the gunwale, face up, don't go 'round breakin' in and hookin' things.
+He hadn't one chance in five, and he was a married man, too, with
+small children. And what's more," he added, incautiously, "he didn't
+stop there. When he found out, this last spring, that I was goin' to
+lose my place, he lent me money enough to pay the interest that was
+overdue on the mortgage, of his own acord."
+
+And he stopped suddenly.
+
+"You have certainly explained yourself," said the foreman. "I think we
+understand you distinctly."
+
+"There isn't one word of truth in that idea," said Eli, flushing up,
+"and you know it. I've paid him back every cent. I know him better'n
+any of you, that's all, and when I know he ain't guilty, I won't say
+he is; and I can set here as long as any other man."
+
+"Lively times some folks'll hev, when they go home," said a spare
+tin-peddler, stroking his long yellow goatee. "Go into the store:
+nobody speak to you; go to cattle-show: everybody follow you 'round;
+go to the wharf: nobody weigh your fish; go to buy seed-cakes at the
+cart: baker won't give no tick."
+
+"How much does it cost, Mr. Foreman," said the butcher, "for a man
+'t's obliged to leave town, to move a family out West? I only ask for
+information. I have known a case where a man had to leave--couldn't
+live there no longer--wa'n't wanted."
+
+There was a knock. An officer, sent by the judge, inquired whether the
+jury were likely soon to agree.
+
+"It rests with you, sir," said the foreman, looking at Eli.
+
+But Eli sat doggedly with his hands in his pockets, and did not look
+up or speak.
+
+"Say to the judge that I cannot tell," said the foreman.
+
+It was eight o'clock when the officer returned, with orders to take
+the jury across the street to the hotel, to supper. They went out in
+pairs, except that the juryman who was left to fall in with Eli made
+three with the file ahead, and left Eli to walk alone. This was
+noticed by the by standers. At the hotel, Eli could not eat a
+mouthful. He was seated at one end of the table, and was left entirely
+out of the conversation. When the jury were escorted back to the court
+house, rumors had evidently begun to arise from his having walked
+alone, for there was quite a little crowd at the hotel-door, to see
+them. They went as before: four pairs, a file of three, and Eli alone.
+Then the spectators understood it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the jury were locked into their room again for the night, Mr.
+Eldridge sat down by Eli, and lit his pipe.
+
+"I understand," he said, "just how you feel. Now, between you and me,
+there was a good-hearted fellow that kept me out of a bad mess once.
+I've never told anybody just what it was, and I don't mean to tell you
+now, but it brought my blood up standing, to find how near I'd come to
+putting a fine steamer and two hundred and forty passengers under
+water. Well, one day, a year or so after that, this man had a chance
+to get a good ship, only there was some talk against him, that he
+drank a little. Well, the owners told him they wanted to see me, and
+he come to me, and says he, 'Mr. Eldridge, I hope you'll speak a good
+word for me; if you do, I'll get the ship, but if they refuse me this
+one, I'm dished everywhere.' Well, the owners put me the square
+question, and I had to tell 'em. Well, I met him that afternoon on
+Sacramento Street, as white as a sheet, and he wouldn't speak to me,
+but passed right by, and that night he went and shipped before the
+mast. That's the last I ever heard of him. But I had to do it.
+
+"Now," he added, "this man's been good to you; but the case is proved,
+and you ought to vote with the rest of us."
+
+"It ain't proved," said Eli. "The judge said that if any man had a
+reasonable doubt, he ought to hold out. Now, I ain't convinced."
+
+"Well, that's easy said," replied Mr. Eldridge, a little hotly, and he
+arose, and left him.
+
+The jurymen broke up into little knots, tilted their chairs back,
+and settled into the easiest positions that their cramped quarters
+allowed. Most of them lit their pipes; the captain, and one or two
+whom he honored, smoked fragrant cigars, and the room was soon filled
+with a dense cloud.
+
+Eli sat alone by the window.
+
+"Sometimes sell two at one house," said a lank book-agent, arousing
+himself from a reverie; "once sold three."
+
+"I think the Early Rose is about as profitable as any," said a little
+farmer, with a large circular beard. "I used to favor Jacobs's
+Seedling, but they haven't done so well with me of late years."
+
+"Sometimes," said the book-agent, picking his teeth with a quill,
+"you'll go to a house, and they'll say they can't be induced to buy a
+book of any kind, historical, fictitious, or religious; but you just
+keep on talking, and show the pictures--'Grant in Boyhood,' 'Grant a
+Tanner,' 'Grant at Head-quarters,' 'Grant in the White House,' 'Grant
+before Queen Victoria,' and they warm up, I tell you, and not
+infrequently buy."
+
+"Do you sell de 'Illustrated Bible,'" asked Washington, "wid de
+Hypocrypha?"
+
+"No; I have a more popular treatise--the 'Illustrated History of the
+Bible.' Greater variety. Brings in the surrounding nations, in
+costume. Cloth, three dollars; sheep, three-fifty; half calf,
+five-seventy-five, full morocco, gilt edges, seven-fifty. Six hundred
+and seven illustrations on wood and steel. Three different engravings
+of Abraham alone. Four of Noah--'Noah before the Flood,' 'Noah
+Building the Ark,' 'Noah Welcoming the Dove,' 'Noah on Ararat.' Steel
+engraving of Ezekiel's Wheel, explaining prophecy. Jonah under the
+gourd, Nineveh in the distance."
+
+Mr. Eldridge and Captain Thomas had drifted into a discussion of
+harbors, and the captain had drawn his chair up to the table, and,
+with a cigar in his mouth, was explaining an ingeniously constructed
+foreign harbor. He was making a rough sketch, with a pen.
+
+"Here is north," he said; "here is the coast-line; here are the flats;
+here are the sluice-gates; they store the water here, in----"
+
+Some of the younger men had their heads together, in a corner, about
+the tin-peddler, who was telling stories of people he had met in his
+journeys, which brought out repeated bursts of laughter.
+
+In the corner farthest from Eli, a delicate-looking man began to tell
+the butcher about Eli's wife.
+
+"Twelve years ago this fall," he said, "I taught district-school in
+the parish where she lived. She was about fourteen then. Her father
+was a poor farmer, without any faculty. Her mother was dead, and she
+kept house. I stayed there one week, boarding 'round."
+
+"Prob'ly didn't git not much of any fresh meat that week," suggested
+the butcher.
+
+"She never said much, but it used to divert me to see her order around
+her big brothers, just as if she was their mother. She and I got to be
+great friends; but she was a queer piece. One day at school, the girls
+in her row were communicating, and annoying me, while the third class
+was reciting in 'First Steps in Numbers,' and I was so incensed that I
+called Lizzie--that's her name--right out, and had her stand up for
+twenty minutes. She was a shy little thing, and set great store by
+perfect marks. I saw that she was troubled a good deal, to have all of
+them looking and laughing at her. But she stood there, with her hands
+folded behind her, and not a smile or a word."
+
+"Look out for a sullen cow," said the butcher.
+
+"I felt afraid I had been too hasty with her, and I was rather sorry I
+had been so decided--although, to be sure, she didn't pretend to deny
+that she had been communicating."
+
+"Of course," said the butcher: "no use lyin' when you're caught in the
+act."
+
+"Well, after school, she stayed at her desk, fixing her dinner-pail,
+and putting her books in a strap, and all that, till all the rest had
+gone, and then she came up to my desk, where I was correcting
+compositions."
+
+"Now for music!" said the butcher.
+
+"She had been crying a little. Well, she looked straight in my face,
+and said she, 'Mr. Pollard, I just wanted to say to you that I wasn't
+doing anything at all when you called me up;' and off she went. Now,
+that was just like her--too proud to say a word before the school."
+
+But here his listener's attention was diverted by the voice of the
+book-agent:
+
+"The very best Bible for teachers, of course, is the limp-cover,
+protected edges, full Levant morocco, Oxford, silk-sewed, kid-lined,
+Bishop's Divinity Circuit, with concordance, maps of the Holy Land,
+weights, measures, and money-tables of the Jews. Nothing like having a
+really----"
+
+"And so," said the captain, moving back his chair, "they let on the
+whole head of water, and scour out the channel to a T."
+
+And then he rapped upon the table.
+
+"Gentlemen," he said, "please draw your chairs up, and let us take
+another ballot."
+
+The count resulted as before. The foreman muttered something which had
+a scriptural sound.
+
+In a few moments, he drew Mr. Eldridge and two others aside.
+"Gentlemen," he said to them, "I shall quietly divide the jury into
+watches, under your charge: ten can sleep, while one wakes to keep Mr.
+Smith discussing the question. I don't propose to have the night
+wasted."
+
+And, by one man or another, Eli was kept awake.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I don't see," said the book-agent, "why you should feel obliged to
+stick it out any longer. Of course, you are under obligations. But
+you've done more than enough already, so as that he can't complain of
+you, and if you give in now, everybody'll give you credit for trying
+to save your friend, on the one hand, and, on the other hand, for
+giving in to the evidence. So you'll get credit both ways."
+
+An hour later, the tin-peddler came on duty. He had not followed
+closely the story about John Wood's loan, and had got it a little
+awry.
+
+"Now, how foolish you be," he said, in a confidential tone. "Can't
+you see that if you cave in now, after stan'in' out nine hours"--and
+he looked at a silver watch with a brass chain, and stroked his
+goatee--"nine hours and twenty-seven minutes--that you've made jest
+rumpus enough so as't he won't dare to foreclose on you, for fear
+they'll say you went back on a trade. On t'other hand, if you hold
+clear out, he'll turn you out-o'-doors to-morrow, for a blind, so 's
+to look as if there wa'n't no trade between you. Once he gits off, he
+won't know Joseph, you bet! That's what I'd do," he added, with a sly
+laugh. "Take your uncle's advice."
+
+"The only trouble with that," said Eli, shortly, "is that I don't owe
+him anything."
+
+"Oh," said the peddler; "that makes a difference. I understood you
+did."
+
+Three o'clock came, and brought Mr. Eldridge. He found Eli worn out
+with excitement.
+
+"Now I don't judge you the way the others do," said Mr. Eldridge, in a
+low tone, with his hand on Eli's knee. "I know, as I told you, just
+the way you feel. But we can't help such things. Suppose, now, that
+I had kept dark, and allowed to the owners that that man was always
+sober, and I had heard, six months after, of thirty or forty men going
+to the bottom because the captain was a little off his base; and then
+to think of their wives and children at home. We have to do some hard
+things; but I say, do the square thing, and let her slide."
+
+"But I can't believe he's guilty," said Eli.
+
+"But don't you allow," said Mr. Eldridge, "that eleven men are more
+sure to hit it right than one man?"
+
+"Yes," said Eli, reluctantly, "as a general thing."
+
+"Well, there's always got to be some give to a jury, just as in
+everything else, and you ought to lay right down on the rest of us. It
+isn't as if we were at all squirmish. Now, you know that if you hold
+out, he'll be tried again."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"Got to be--no other way," said Mr Eldridge. "Now, the next time,
+there won't be anybody like you to stand out, and the judge'll know
+of this scrape, and he'll just sock it to him."
+
+Eli turned uneasily in his chair.
+
+"And then it won't be understood in your place, and folks'll turn
+against you every way, and, what's worse, let you alone."
+
+"I can stand it," said Eli, angrily. "Let 'em do as they like. They
+can't kill me."
+
+"They can kill your wife and break down your children," said Mr.
+Eldridge. "Women and children can't stand it. Now there's that man
+they were speaking of; he lived down my way. He sued a poor, shiftless
+fellow that had come from Pennsylvania to his daughter's funeral, and
+had him arrested and taken off, crying, just before the funeral
+begun--after they'd even set the flowers on the coffin; and nobody'd
+speak to him after that--they just let him alone; and after a while
+his wife took sick of it--she was a nice, kindly woman--and she had
+sort of hysterics, and, finally, he moved off West. And 'twasn't long
+before the woman died. Now, you can't undertake to do different from
+everybody else."
+
+"Well," said Eli; "I know I wish it was done with."
+
+Mr. Eldridge stretched his arms and yawned. Then he began to walk up
+and down, and hum, out of tune. Then he stopped at Captain Thomas's
+chair.
+
+"Suppose we try a ballot," he said. "He seems to give a little."
+
+In a moment the foreman rapped.
+
+"It is time we were taking another ballot, gentlemen," he said.
+
+The sleepers rose, grumbling, from uneasy dreams.
+
+"I will write 'guilty' on twelve ballots," said the foreman, "and if
+any one desires to write in 'not,' of course he can."
+
+When the hat came to Eli, he took one of the ballots and held it in
+his hand a moment; and then he laid it on the table. There was a
+general murmur. The picture which Mr. Eldridge had drawn loomed up
+before him. But with a hasty hand he wrote in "not," dropped in the
+ballot, and going back to his chair by the window, sat down.
+
+There was a cold wave of silence.
+
+Then Eli suddenly walked up to the foreman and faced him.
+
+"Now," he said, "we'll stop. The very next turn breaks ground. If you,
+or any other man that you set on, tries to talk to me when I don't
+want to hear, to worry me to death--look out!"
+
+How the long hours wore on! How easy, sometimes, to resist an open
+pressure, and how hard, with the resistance gone, to fight, as one
+that beats the air! How the prospect of a whole hostile town loomed
+up, in a mirage, before Eli! And then the picture rose before him of a
+long, stately bark, now building, whose owner had asked him yesterday
+to be first mate. And if his wife were only well, and he were only
+free from this night's trouble, how soon, upon the long, green waves,
+he could begin to redeem his little home!
+
+And then came Mr. Eldridge, kind and friendly, to have another little
+chat.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Morning came, cold and drizzly. An officer knocked at the door, and
+called out, "Breakfast." And, in a moment, unwashed, and all uncombed,
+except the tin-peddler, who always carried a beard-comb in his pocket,
+they were marched across the street to the hotel.
+
+There were a number of men on the piazza waiting to see them--jurymen,
+witnesses, and the accused himself, for he was on bail. He had seen
+the procession the night before, and, like the others, had read its
+meaning.
+
+"Eli knows I wouldn't do it," he had said to himself, "and he's going
+to hang out, sure."
+
+The jury began to turn from the court-house door. Everybody looked. A
+file of two men, another file, another, another; would there come
+three men, and then one? No; Eli no longer walked alone.
+
+Everybody looked at Wood; he turned sharply away.
+
+But this time the order of march in fact showed nothing, one way or
+the other. It only meant that the judge, who had happened to see the
+jury the night before returning from their supper, had sent for the
+high sheriff in some temper--for judges are human--and had vigorously
+intimated that if that statesman did not look after his fool of a
+deputy, who let a jury parade secrets to the public view, he
+would----!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The jury were in their room again. At nine o'clock came a rap, and a
+summons from the court.
+
+The prosecuting attorney was speaking with the judge when they went
+in. In a moment he took his seat.
+
+"John Wood!" called out the clerk, and the defendant arose. His
+attorney was not there.
+
+"Mr. Foreman!" said the judge, rising. The jury arose. The silence of
+the crowded court-room was intense.
+
+"Before the clerk asks you for a verdict, gentlemen," said the judge,
+"I have something of the first importance to say to you, which has but
+this moment come to my knowledge."
+
+Eli changed color, and the whole court-room looked at him.
+
+"There were some most singular rumors, after the case was given to
+you, gentlemen, to the effect that there had been in this cause a
+criminal abuse of justice. It is painful to suspect, and shocking to
+know, that courts and juries are liable ever to suffer by such
+unprincipled practices. After ten years upon the bench, I never
+witness a conviction of crime without pain; but that pain is light,
+compared with the distress of knowing of a wilful perversion of
+justice. It is a relief to me to be able to say to you that such
+instances are, in my judgment, exceedingly rare, and--so keen is the
+awful searching power of truth--are almost invariably discovered."
+
+The foreman touched his neighbor with his elbow. Eli folded his arms.
+
+"As I said," continued the judge, "there were most singular rumors.
+During the evening and the night, rumor, as is often the case, led to
+evidence, and evidence has led to confession and to certainty. And the
+district attorney now desires me to say to you that the chief officer
+of the bank--who held the second key to the safe--is now under arrest
+for a heavy defalcation, which a sham robbery was to conceal, and that
+you may find the prisoner at the bar--not guilty. I congratulate you,
+gentlemen, that you had not rendered an adverse verdict."
+
+"Your Honor!" said Eli; and he cleared his throat; "I desire it to be
+known that, even as the case stood last night, this jury had not
+agreed to convict, and never would have!"
+
+There was a hush, while a loud scratching pen indorsed the record of
+acquittal. Then Wood walked down to the jury-box and took Eli's hand.
+
+"Just what I told my wife all through," he said. "I knew you'd hang
+out!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Eli's jury was excused for the rest of the day, and by noon he was in
+his own village, relieved, too, of his most pressing burden: for
+George Cahoon had met him on the road, and told him that he was not
+going to the West, after all, for the present, and should not need his
+money. But, as he turned the bend of the road and neared his house, he
+felt a rising fear that some disturbing rumor might have reached his
+wife about his action on the jury. And, to his distress and amazement,
+there she was, sitting in a chair at the door.
+
+"Lizzie!" he said, "what does this mean? Are you crazy?"
+
+"I'll tell you what it means," she said, as she stood up with a little
+smile and clasped her hands behind her. "This morning, it got around
+and came to me that you was standing out all alone for John Wood, and
+that the talk was that they'd be down on you, and drive you out of
+town, and that everybody pitied _me--pitied me_! And when I heard
+that, I thought I'd see! And my strength seemed to come all back, and
+I got right up, and dressed myself. And what's more, I'm going to get
+well now!"
+
+And she did.
+
+
+
+
+YOUNG STRONG OF "THE CLARION."
+
+BY MILICENT WASHBURN SHINN.
+
+_Overland Monthly, September, 1884._
+
+
+If you had asked any resident of Green's Ferry some eight years
+ago--say, in '76--who were the leading men of his town, he would
+doubtless have begun:
+
+"Well, there's Judge Garvey, of course. Then there's Uncle Billy
+Green, who built the first shanty there in '49, and young Strong of
+'The Clarion'--"
+
+However he might continue his enumeration, it would certainly
+have been as above for the first three names. One you would have
+recognized, if you had been following State politics closely for some
+years; for Judge Garvey was very regularly chosen State senator in his
+district, and had held the barren honor of presidential elector the
+last time his party carried the State. In '76, some of the papers were
+urging his nomination for Congress, and politicians thought his
+chance of such a nomination increasing. It has not turned out so; his
+name has quite dropped out of the papers, and it is said he does not
+certainly control his own county now; but at that time he was the most
+potent political influence in three counties. What he influenced them
+to, I never clearly understood, for I cannot recall that I ever heard
+his name mentioned in connection with any measure or opinion.
+
+A file of "The Clarion" during the four years that young Strong was
+editor would doubtless throw light on the matter. "The Clarion" was at
+this time a sort of voice crying in the wilderness about Reform, which
+was a very new idea, indeed, to its readers. Garvey did not like the
+paper, and young Strong disliked Garvey very much; but the two men had
+kept on fairly good terms--not so rigid good terms, of course, as to
+forbid their expressing to third parties the frankest contempt for
+each other. The Judge had here the advantage, for Strong despised him
+indignantly, as a knave, while he despised Strong--or said he
+did--pityingly, as a fool. He must, however, have at bottom honored
+the young fellow with some serious antipathy; for it was after all no
+laughing matter that a boy of twenty-five should come into "his Gaul,
+which he had conquered by arms," and filch away his home paper from
+under his very eyes. Moreover, though people read the editorials,
+laughed, and voted with the Judge just the same--they still did read
+them. However, Judge Garvey certainly was more civil to Strong than
+Strong was to him.
+
+As for Uncle Billy Green, his rank was due not only to his connection
+with the "first shanty" (a house of entertainment at the point where
+a trail turned from the river toward the mines), but to his having
+remained steadily on the spot ever since, putting up a larger
+building at intervals as the settlement gathered around him, until
+now he was proprietor of the American Eagle Hotel, a house of goodly
+dimensions and generous equipment--billiard-room, bowling alley,
+shooting-gallery. Nor did Uncle Billy Green own and conduct this house
+in a purely business spirit; a more modest one would have been more
+profitable; he liked to "do that much for the town." A man by the name
+of Gulliver had established the old rope-ferry, before the day of
+bridges, but it was naturally called Green's Ferry, being a ferry at
+Green's place. He had been of an undoubted valor in the Indian fights
+of early days, was full of reminiscences, had no personal objections
+to anybody or anything, and had long given over to Judge Garvey the
+trouble of forming his opinions.
+
+Judge Garvey and young Strong were pretty sure to be put upon such
+boards or committees as the local affairs of the small town demanded;
+and in local matters they proved to pull together fairly well, however
+at odds they were politically. But in the end it was not over
+politics, but over the district school, that they fell out squarely.
+They were both trustees, and as Green was the third, the board seemed
+in little danger from any too radical reforming tendencies young
+Strong might be guilty of, and the Judge had no thought of danger as
+he walked down to "The Clarion" office, a breathless September
+afternoon, a couple of days before the school should open.
+
+He found young Strong in his editorial room. This was a corner of the
+printing-office, fenced off by a great screen pasted over with old
+exchanges. Behind this, Strong sat at his table, correcting proof
+energetically. It was evident that he took the editing of this little
+four-page weekly rather seriously--but, then, a man must needs be
+business-like to produce even four pages weekly with one assistant,
+and Strong had to economize time enough from strictly editorial
+functions to do a goodly share of type-setting and the rest of the
+mechanics of the office.
+
+"I beg your pardon for interrupting you, Mr. Strong," said the Judge.
+"I perceive you are arduously occupied. But it becomes necessary to
+confer with you with regard to the school-teacher."
+
+The Judge was a tall and vigorously built man--a little red-faced, but
+good-looking, if one did not insist on too fine a definiteness of
+outline. He spoke habitually with a certain inflation of manner, and
+tried to form himself upon a Southern type that was pretty abundant in
+our politics some years earlier. He was, however, a native of rural
+New York, early transplanted to California.
+
+Strong turned in his chair, and sitting sidewise, rested his elbow on
+the proof-sheets, holding the pencil still in his fingers.
+
+"Well?" he said. "I thought everything was settled."
+
+"Assuredly." Judge Garvey rested his folded arms upon the pile of
+books stacked at the rear of the table, and leaned over them in a
+friendly way. "Mr. Coakley is to arrive Sunday evening, and will
+begin the term on Monday morning, to the great satisfaction, I
+can guarantee, of all concerned. A slight and merely temporary
+embarrassment has arisen, with respect to which a few words will
+make it all right. In point of fact, the young woman with whom we
+previously held correspondence--who, you will remember, broke her
+engagement with us to take a more advantageous position--is here."
+
+The Judge stopped for question or comment, but as Strong waited for
+explanation, he went on:
+
+"She has, it appears, failed after all to secure that, and come here
+expecting to fall back upon our school, not having heard that it was
+engaged."
+
+"Well, that's unfortunate for her," said Strong, "but you can't ship
+Coakley now."
+
+"Your views coincide exactly with my own, my dear sir." The Judge
+straightened up with some relief. "I have only to ask, then, for a
+note to the lady to that effect, that my own explanation already given
+may be corroborated."
+
+Strong began to look alert and suspicious at this.
+
+"Views coincide?" he said. "What two views could there be? What does
+she say brought her here?"
+
+"She's got an idea that she's got first claim on the place," said the
+Judge, plumping suddenly into colloquial diction. He had a trick of
+doing so when he got down to business. It would have had something the
+effect of candid confession, produced by a maiden's plain-hair days
+alternated with her waved-hair days, had not the grandiloquence of
+tone and manner become so far second nature that it ran through both
+his dialects, and lessened the contrast. "You can't always make a
+woman see sense."
+
+Strong looked suspiciously at him a few seconds. "Well, I'll go see
+her this evening," he said. "Where's she staying?"
+
+"That is a totally superfluous tax on your time, my dear Strong," said
+the Judge, leaning persuasively across the books again. "I have here
+a mere formal line, stating that Coakley is the regularly engaged
+teacher of the school, and will begin next Monday; your signature
+to it--Green's and mine are already there--will be all that is
+necessary." He pushed pen and ink toward Strong with his exaggerated
+air of courtesy.
+
+"Oh, I'm not going to sign things that way, you know. I'll go see
+her." He turned and drew his proof-sheets to him with an air of
+dismissal.
+
+The Judge stood up very straight, expanded his chest, and folded his
+arms according to his conception of the Virginian manner. "Am I to
+understand, sir, that you question my veracity?"
+
+"I don't question anything," said the young man, impatiently. "I'll
+know what I'm talking about when I've seen her."
+
+"Permit me to suggest, sir"--the Judge was approaching his platform
+manner--"permit me to suggest, sir, that Mr. Green and myself
+constitute a majority of the board, and Mr. Green, sir--Uncle Billy
+Green--has confidence in my honor, and will sustain my action,
+whatever line you may be persuaded to adopt."
+
+"Oh, as to that," said Strong, exaggerating his crispness of manner in
+protest against the Judge's staginess, "I'm clerk of the board, and
+you can't hold a legal meeting nor pay a salary without me. What's the
+reason you don't want me to see her?"
+
+Judge Garvey unfolded his arms, fell back a step, and dropped easily
+into the sonorous declamation that made the stalwart Judge no
+inconspicuous figure on the floor of the Legislature. The newspapers,
+of course, were responsible for his language--as for the rest of
+his education; but such as it was, he used it fluently, and the
+declamatory manner was, to his constituency, quite an essential of
+eloquence--the prime difference, in fact, between oratory and plain
+talking.
+
+"You cast aspersions upon my honor, sir. Through me you insult the
+people of Green's Ferry--of this county--of this district--the
+enlightened and honorable constituency who it is my proud honor to
+represent. I sco-r-n to answer your insinuations, sir. They will
+be hurled back upon yourself by the united voice and righteous
+indignation of my justly aroused fellow-townsmen, by the voters of
+this noble district--I may say, by the whole State of California--to
+which I am not unknown, sir."
+
+Half-a-dozen of the justly aroused fellow-townsmen were straggling in
+from the street, for in Green's Ferry a sprinkling of the citizens
+spend the warm afternoons sitting in absolute tranquillity on boxes
+and barrels here and there, under the awnings of the several business
+blocks; and the knowledge that a row was at last on between Judge
+Garvey and young Strong reached them at the first peal. The Judge,
+alive to the increase of his audience, raised his voice a shade, and
+went on with a curious mixture of complacency and genuine wrath.
+
+"Is it lack of confidence that has sent me to represent my honorable
+constituency in the legislative halls of California, Mr. Strong? Have
+I received that proud token of esteem only to be insulted by one whose
+obscurity is his only shield; who, with unknown record, with no
+recommendation save his own overwhelming self-esteem, comes among us
+to sow dissent in peaceful counsels, and draw scorn and contempt upon
+his own head by impotent and futile attacks upon those whom he is
+powerless to harm?"
+
+This rounded the climax well, so the Judge only added: "The call you
+propose, sir, I shall regard as a direct insult to myself," and strode
+dramatically from the room.
+
+The papered screen went crashing to the floor behind him. The justly
+aroused fellow-townsmen looked after him, laughing but admiring.
+
+"Laid you out, didn't he, Strong?"
+
+"That's the way he does it at Sacramento. Oh, the Judge is a real
+orator--there's no doubt of that."
+
+"_He_ don't have to make his speech up before-hand. No, sir, right
+where he is, any time of day, he just turns the faucet, and there it
+comes."
+
+"What was the row, anyway, Strong?"
+
+"I don't know myself; something about a teacher--he began to bluster
+all of a sudden." Strong walked over to the screen, picked it up, set
+it straight along a crack with intense precision, and went back to his
+seat. "Drunk, isn't he? I haven't heard him take the stump that way
+since election. He's always made rather a point of not quarrelling
+with me, too."
+
+"Oh, he's no drunker'n usual," answered with candor a fellow-townsman.
+"The Judge ain't really himself until he's a little off. He didn't
+blow so without some reason; don't you fool yourself--not if _I_ know
+the man."
+
+"Well, if he's got any game he must have come to his last chance in
+it, to try bullying on _me_," said Strong; and then another of the
+group asked:
+
+"What row could there be about a teacher, Strong? Thought you'd given
+him his man."
+
+The pencil rolled from the edge of the table across the floor at
+Strong's movement of attention. "Coakley?--what of him?"
+
+The man began to laugh, and one or two others joined in. One of them
+said a little offensively: "Pretty good on you, youngster! You took
+too big a contract for your age when you undertook to keep up with
+Judge Garvey. He'll give you odds and take you in, every time."
+
+Strong reddened a little, but waited to be answered with very fair
+composure.
+
+"Didn't you really know, Strong? The Judge scored one on you that
+time, then. Why, he's been Garvey's man in Sierra Township one or two
+elections now. Used to be a Millerite preacher, before your day, but
+he broke down at that. Good hand in county politics, but he's always
+completely out of business between times. Why you remember him,
+Strong--he was round with the Judge election times--cross-eyed fellow,
+with black siders."
+
+"_That_ fellow? Why, he can't spell straight! The way of it was, Judge
+Garvey told us only Tuesday that the teacher we'd got--first-rate
+certificates--had backed out; and we couldn't put off beginning school
+any longer, nor hear of any teacher to be had; so when he produced
+this man, we had really no choice. I suppose I needn't ask where he
+got his certificates."
+
+"No--Garvey's solid with this county board and superintendent."
+
+"Disgraceful!" said Strong; whereat all laughed, except one who had
+lost a ranch a few years before during business dealings with the
+Judge.
+
+"Oh, he's a scamp--I wouldn't trust him out of sight with his baby's
+silver mug," said this man, with feeling. The rest laughed again. In
+Green's Ferry a certain easy-going good-heartedness is required by the
+public conscience, rather than decalogue virtues. Garvey liked sharp
+practice--all right; if you were yourself hurt, you would naturally
+begin to vote against him; otherwise, it was none of your business,
+except as successful rascality had a claim on your admiration. Young
+Strong liked to write furious reform editorials--all right; if you
+were the one hit, you would swear at Strong and stop your subscription
+until a hit on some one else made you renew it; otherwise, it was none
+of your business and lively reading. They leaned against the wall and
+desk, and began with perfect good-nature to tell stories of the Judge.
+"R'member the time he got that Mexican ranch? Fellow thought it was a
+bill of sale for thirty acres he was signing, and it was three
+hundred."
+
+"Best thing was when he made old man Meeker believe he was dying, and
+deed over a good fifty thousand dollars in stock to his daughter--and
+married the girl, sir, before the old fellow found he was good for
+twenty years more. He made the air smell of brimstone the rest of his
+life if you mentioned Garvey to him! Drowned in a ford a winter or two
+later, after all. Used to live in a little shanty up Indian Crick and
+raise potatoes--and Garvey sent him a cow--cheekiest thing!"
+
+Strong turned sharply away from the laugh that followed, and went on
+with his work, while they slowly dispersed. He worked on savagely with
+brows drawn together. "It isn't so much the existence of scoundrels
+like Garvey that gets me," he was saying to himself, "as the way the
+whole crowd of them take him." He stopped to read over the words he
+was correcting--they were editorial:
+
+"Was ever folly greater than this of our community, in dropping
+everything else to run after money. For what do you expect to do with
+it when you get it? Better eating, and drinking, and the privilege of
+being toadied to by those who want to make something out of you--what
+more can you get out of money, if you have never made anything of
+_yourself_? Just as a pig, if he might take his choice whether he
+would be turned into a man or would be moved into a cosier sty, with
+more unbounded swill, would doubtless choose the sty!"
+
+"My broom against the ocean," he said; but he went on correcting
+doggedly.
+
+And, not to conceal from you what was in reality the most significant
+fact about Will Strong--the key to about everything he thought and
+did--he was mentally submitting this editorial, as he had submitted
+every other he had written, to the test of the probable opinion of
+a young woman he had not seen nor heard from for two years, but
+who nevertheless constituted to his mind the chief motive for
+existence--if not the chief and sufficient explanation of the human
+race's having been created at all. You must realize, before trying to
+understand his story, that Will Strong was really a very romantic
+young man indeed, though he pretended to Green's Ferry that he was
+not.
+
+Outside the screen, the strips of sun through the western window and
+open door lengthened across the meagre collection of dusty fonts of
+type, the small press, the piles of papers. The black-fingered,
+red-haired boy setting type among them reflected that it must be
+nearly dinner-time, and turned to see how far in the hot strips had
+crept--turned, and stood staring; for he met squarely the inquiring
+look of a pair of clear eyes, and became aware of a lady in the
+door-way.
+
+It is probable that Jim had never dreamed in his life of any other
+social distinction than that between rich and poor, notorious and
+obscure, nor was he a lad of perceptions; yet he knew at once that
+this was a very unusual sort of lady for Green's Ferry. If he had been
+a man of the social world he would have known that she was a
+gentlewoman of notably high-bred appearance. She glanced, not without
+dismay, about the shabby work-room, as if she felt herself where she
+had no business to be. Nevertheless, she came forward frankly, and
+asked in the friendly way of one whose station needs no asserting:
+
+"Mr. Strong?--one of the school-board?--Is he here?"
+
+"Yes'm." The boy made no motion, but stood blankly staring.
+
+"May I see him, please?"
+
+"Lady to see you, Mr. Strong," shouted Jim, standing still.
+
+In the few seconds before Strong emerged, the lady stood her ground in
+the middle of the floor, with some appearance of anxiety. She was
+certainly a very noticeable person, and came nearer to warranting that
+strong word "beautiful" than falls often to the lot of woman. It was a
+matter of outline more than color, however, for she had not much of
+that about her--brown hair, blue-gray eyes, skin of a warm paleness.
+All this low coloring, however, was so perfect of its sort, that it
+gave something the effect of a fine etching--a rich distinctness
+attained by shades, not colors. Instead of being outshone by more
+brilliant-hued women, Miss Northrop had always had the effect of
+making them look chromo-like. So, too, a certain nobility and
+self-forgetfulness of manner made the more elaborate manners of others
+seem the crude device of inferiority. It was a good deal due to
+her eyes; she had most wonderful eyes, and I doubt if any man or
+many women ever met them in a full look without feeling a little
+stir of pulse--whether it was in the lashes, or in the sweet
+straightforwardness of look, utterly devoid of coquetry, or in the
+depth of the gray, or in what; certain it is that no one ever saw Miss
+Northrop without talking of her beautiful eyes.
+
+"A lady to see him?" The word in Green's Ferry defined only the sex.
+Some one with a notice of a flock of sheep for sale, which she wanted
+to get in as a local; or with an ill-spelled poem; or--by George,
+yes--that school-mistress. Lucky she had not met Garvey there--poor
+girl! Strong laid his pencil down, and came out from behind the screen
+good-naturedly enough--and stopped short. What a thing to happen to a
+man, that he should live and move and have his being for a dozen years
+in the thought of one woman, should count a world worth living in
+because she was somewhere on it, and a pitiful human race worth
+working for because they were her fellow-creatures--and should come
+out from behind his screen, and see her before his eyes--on his dingy
+work-room floor--out of her four thousand miles' distance!
+
+They had been four years schoolmates in a New England High School.
+Will was a farmer's lad, from an outlying, rocky village, who worked
+for his board while he went to school. He came of an unschooled,
+hard-working, God-fearing yeoman race. Winifred could look up every
+line of her descent, through vista of governors, college-presidents,
+and ministers, back to Colonial aristocracy and gentry beyond sea.
+Her great-grandfathers had carried swords in Revolutionary battles,
+where Will's had followed with muskets. Winifred herself was
+one of those flowers into which excellent family trees break
+occasionally--flowers so lovely that no excellence of the tree seems
+enough to account for them. If she had any core of aristocratic
+coldness, it was so overlaid by a sweet humaneness, a frank generosity
+of impulse, that no one would have known it. If she had been a man, to
+have a valet, she would have been a hero to him.
+
+Even in the democracy of school, Will Strong knew well enough the
+difference between his shy awkwardness and her pleasant frankness; and
+knew that though he could meet school requirements about as well as
+she, yet his mental range was crude and narrow beside hers; and any
+one could see that in the town where he was an unknown boy she was an
+important young lady. These things would not have counted for much had
+not some mediaeval follower of some exiled king dropped down into the
+boy's temperament that passion of self-abasing loyalty that is rather
+an anachronism in our democratic days. They had been on terms of
+friendliness rather than friendship in school, but that was due more
+to his shyness than anything else. She had really given to him more
+opportunities than to most of her schoolmates; she liked his integrity
+and earnestness.
+
+He had looked to college as the natural door between his world and
+hers; after four years at New Haven he might seek her acquaintance
+without audacity. To that end he had laboriously accumulated money,
+and had even passed his matriculation, when his father's death made
+him indispensable on the poor little farm. Since then he had doggedly
+plodded alone through the college curriculum, but without finding in
+it the mysterious pass-word that he had expected into the intellectual
+aristocracy. Some two years before, his mother's death and the growing
+up of younger brothers had left him free to seek his fortune in
+California. At twenty-seven he had lost his fresh look and boyish
+shyness; he looked older than he was, but he was really very youthful,
+and believed in all sorts of abstractions beginning with capitals.
+His mental furniture, being obtained from books, not people, was not
+quite in the style of the present decade, and he read Carlyle and
+Emerson more than Herbert Spencer. His creed had, therefore, quite
+transcendentalism enough to accommodate without incongruity his little
+private deification.
+
+Once in every year or two, as opportunity took him near her home, he
+had called on her, and had multiplied each call mightily by thinking
+of it before and after. He had also kept up a stupid correspondence
+with a schoolmate who had lived in the same town with her, for the
+chance of her name being mentioned. Within a couple of years, however,
+she had lost her father and gone to relatives in New York, so he had
+lost exact knowledge even of her whereabouts.
+
+She spoke before he had found his voice--without an instant's
+hesitation, indeed. "Oh, Will Strong!" she cried, stepping quickly
+toward him and holding out her hand. "I _hoped_ it was you!"
+
+He took the offered hand, and said to himself that his own was
+consecrated by the touch to clean deeds forever. He would not have
+known how to address her, but he followed her leading.
+
+"It is Winifred Northrop!" he said. "What is it? Can I do something
+for you?"
+
+"You are school-committee man, are you not?" Anxiety, relief, and
+trust mingled in her voice.
+
+"Trustee--yes. Why," he cried, "it isn't possible that _you_ are the
+lady!"
+
+She laughed. "I suppose the lady must be I."
+
+He did not smile. He even lost color with wrath. "Garvey has dared to
+play you some trick!--I did not dream--" he went on, eagerly, "Garvey
+kept the letters in his hands, and bungled over the name, so I did not
+once fairly catch it."
+
+He turned back to his corner, and put the remaining bit of proof into
+his pocket. New heavens and new earth had come into existence since
+the last pencil mark on it.
+
+"Jim," he said, "I'm called off on school-business. You get as much of
+that set up as you can before dinner, and then lock up; and I'll come
+down and make the corrections in the editorials before I go to bed.
+Now--Winifred--if I may walk home with you, we'll get to the bottom
+of Garvey's tricks. Villain!"
+
+The epithet was so fervent, and so entirely without humorous intent,
+that Miss Northrop laughed again as they walked out into the dull, hot
+September afternoon sun. The board sidewalk was uneven and full of
+projecting nails and splinters, and she held her thin, blue-gray dress
+prettily aside from them; Will noted the gesture with admiration as
+intense as unreasonable. It seemed to him peculiarly admirable that
+she should draw her hat a little forward to shade her eyes, and should
+take just the length of step that she did; the absolutely right step
+for a lady was thenceforth settled; since then, he has insisted
+unreasonably upon a certain shade as the only right thing in gray, as
+if he held in his own mind some positive standard beyond the realm of
+variable taste.
+
+The two or three business blocks--rows of slight frame-buildings, more
+of them saloons than would seem possible--were very quiet; Green's
+Ferry is the shipping point of a wide stock-raising district, and
+all its activity centres about the railroad station at stated times
+daily. The justly aroused fellow-townsmen were all back under the
+awnings--leaning against the wall by the post-office, sitting on boxes
+by the grocery; some indolently telling stories and chaffing; some
+looking sleepily before them in absolute repose; some in various
+stages of inert drunkenness. All stared curiously at young Strong and
+the strange lady, and prepared to talk them over afterward, but no
+one addressed him.
+
+They turned aside soon into a broad cross street with no sidewalk,
+where the coarse dust was in places ankle deep. Behind them, beyond
+the main street, a few groups of yellowing cottonwoods on bare banks
+of reddish clay marked the course of the Sacramento; before them the
+street faded into a limitless expanse of gravel, thinly dotted in the
+distance with dull green oaks, and bounded by long knolls, like
+wrinkles in the plain, dark with oaks against the smoky sky of
+September--a sky dull blue above, dull gray near the horizon.
+
+Along either side of the street the flimsy wooden houses were set
+back, each in its yard, and surrounded by oleanders; sometimes there
+would be a few parched roses, a trellis of Madeira-vine, a patch of
+carefully nursed grass, often a row of China trees, whose fallen
+black seeds stippled the dust--but always the great rosy clumps of
+oleanders, glorying in the heat and drought. Every evening after
+dinner the owners come out, and stand watering these gardens with hose
+and sprinkler, till all along the street there is a murmur like rain
+and a smell of damp earth, and here and there through the warm
+twilight a glimpse of the white sprays of water; while the families
+sit on the porches and doorstep, and gossip and laugh. At this hour,
+however, the little gardens and splendid oleanders lay hot and
+deserted in the dusty afternoon.
+
+"I haven't till now had time to spare from being anxious to be
+interested," Miss Northrop said. "I was rather panic-stricken this
+morning, and things were awful, instead of interesting, in proportion
+to their newness."
+
+This bit of pathos stiffened Will's manner with the awkwardness of
+over-feeling, as he asked: "Now, what can I do for you--Winifred?"
+
+The awkwardness made him more like the school-boy Will; and then, a
+familiar face four thousand miles from home seems more familiar than
+it really is. Miss Northrop answered confidingly: "I will tell you all
+about it, and then you will know what to do. I wrote to Judge
+Garvey--some one referred me to him at Sacramento--and asked if I
+might teach the school. He wrote back that I might, fixed the day, and
+directed me to a boarding-place that he had engaged for me. So I came
+by yesterday evening's train, and sent word that I was here. This
+morning he called and told me--with most oppressive civility--that as
+I had not answered his last letter, the place had been given to some
+one else. He said 'professional etiquette' here demands an answer in
+such a case, and failure to answer is equivalent to a withdrawal of
+the application."
+
+"He lied," said Will, parenthetically, walking along with his eyes on
+the ground; she, on the contrary, looked at him often, with frank
+directness.
+
+"He did not impress me," she said, "as the soul of candor. I said as
+little as possible to him, but when he was gone I asked about the rest
+of the committee, and as soon as I heard your name I hoped it was you;
+I knew you were somewhere in California. This afternoon I received his
+letter written to prevent my coming. It had followed me up here by the
+same train that I came on." She held the letter in her hand, and Will
+quietly took it and kept it. "I would not raise any controversy about
+such a thing," she went on, "if I had any idea in the world where else
+to go or what to do." Her voice sharpened a little again, with a note
+of pathos.
+
+Will did not know how to answer without seeming to question or
+comment, so there came a pause; then he said:
+
+"This Coakley was an electioneering agent of Garvey's, and doesn't
+know enough to teach babies. He seems to have turned up suddenly
+wanting help, and the Judge is willing enough to keep him on hand and
+under obligations until next election."
+
+Miss Northrop stopped short and looked at him with brows a little
+raised, and her bearing became impalpably more distant.
+
+"But I cannot enter into contest with--these men for permission to
+teach school here," she said.
+
+She was right, in her quick feeling that Will Strong's training could
+not have made work and discomfort and contact with vulgarity seem
+outside the sphere of women. If it had been one of his own sisters he
+would have said: "Oh, well, we have to take the world as we find it.
+Brace up, little girl; I'll put you safe through, and you'll find it's
+not so bad, after all."
+
+But what he said to Winifred Northrop was: "It is outrageous! Such
+brutes as Garvey have no business to look at a lady! If you really
+prefer not to take the school," he went on, with some embarrassment,
+"I hope you will call on me to help you in any other way; but if you
+want the school you shall have it, and no annoyance with it that I can
+help."
+
+Miss Northrop repented that she had repented her confidence. "I
+remembered that you were kind of old, Will"--and her manner was
+irresistibly winning when she said such a thing--"but you are so very
+kind now that you make me ashamed. I only meant to ask you what I must
+do. Yes, I must take this position if I can, for I have no
+alternative."
+
+"There is nothing for you to do," he said. "It is my place, as an
+officer of the school, to see that its rightful teacher is not
+defrauded."
+
+"So it is," she said, relieved. "But I am none the less grateful."
+
+"It is a pleasure to me to be able to do anything for you," he said,
+gravely, somewhat stiffly--from his tone you would not have suspected
+much more truth than usual in the formula.
+
+She only said: "You are very kind," and then he lifted his hat, and
+left her at Mrs. Stutt's gate.
+
+He deliberately and literally believed, as he walked down the
+street--directly to Green's--that he was the happiest man in the
+world. For that matter, it is not impossible that he was. He was
+absolutely innocent of conscious hyperbole in saying, "It would be
+worth a life-time of trouble only to have _seen_ her; and I know her
+and am able to do her a service!"
+
+He scored one advantage in having seen Miss Northrop early; he saw
+Green before Garvey had talked with him. The report of the quarrel had
+by no means failed to reach "The American Eagle," and when Strong came
+in Uncle Billy Green was just expressing himself with regard to
+Coakley:
+
+"Of course the Judge'll provide for his man when he gets a chance.
+That's where he's sharp. And if Coakley is smart enough to suit Judge
+Garvey, he's smart enough to teach _my_ children--that's what _I_
+say."
+
+A private audience with him would have been merely postponing the hour
+of general discussion, so Strong made a brief exposition of his
+case--gently enough, but with considerable force--then and there,
+displaying the letter he carried by way of proof. He hardly expected
+to elicit anything but the usual laugh and comment on the Judge's
+smartness. But there was a marked seriousness of tone in the remarks
+when he ended.
+
+"Well, that _is_ pretty rough."
+
+"Yes, sir, that's going too far. The Judge ought to know where to
+stop. I don't stand by no man when it comes to a shabby trick on an
+unprotected school-marm."
+
+"A real lady, too--I could see that when she went by with you,
+Strong."
+
+Even Green said, uneasily, "No, I shouldn't think the Judge ought to
+do that, quite."
+
+It was evident that Green's Ferry drew its lines as much as any other
+town. The moral support it offered Strong was mainly negative,
+however, and Green, after several alternate conversations with his two
+fellow trustees during this Saturday evening, went off early Sunday
+morning to visit his married daughter at the old Meeker place, leaving
+word that they must fix it between them. Judge Garvey closed the
+somewhat stormy conference of Saturday evening with a promise to break
+down Miss Northrop's school in a week, and Strong's paper in a month.
+"Do you flatter yourself I should not have had your contemptible sheet
+in powder under my feet, sir, before this, if I had thought it worth
+the attention?" Nevertheless, as there was nothing on which the Judge
+prided himself more than on his invariable civility to ladies ("the
+courtly Judge" was his favorite phrase in writing up a local notice of
+any affair at which he had been present), Strong, having possession of
+the school-house key, was able to put Miss Northrop into possession on
+Monday morning without opposition. The Judge even visited her during
+the day and addressed the school with extreme suavity.
+
+He was, however, very seriously affronted, and had not passed his
+Sunday without diligent preparation among parents and children to make
+Miss Northrop's position untenable. It would have been no difficult
+task, either, but for an altogether unprecedented obstacle--a factor
+that he had not dreamed of in his calculations, and that Strong
+himself had underestimated. The children, who had gone to school
+Monday morning primed for mutiny, surrendered their hearts in a body
+to Miss Northrop by night; three days later, Uncle Billy Green's
+niece, who taught the primary school, gave in adoring allegiance; by
+the end of the week everybody who had seen her was her advocate. It
+was certainly an unprecedented thing that Judge Garvey's best
+exertions should come to naught, because of a woman's way of smiling
+and speaking; but Miss Northrop's tenure of the school was secure. It
+was not entirely speech and smile, however. Miss Northrop was
+interested in everything, and consequently had common ground with
+everybody; and she met each one on that ground, not so much ignoring
+as temporarily forgetting differences.
+
+The year wore on from gray to gray; the parching north wind poured
+down the plain and darkened the air with gritty dust; the sky, though
+cloudless, grew murkier every day. Then the wind shifted to the south,
+and the sky grew darker yet with surging heaps of clouds, and at last
+down came the late November rain; and next morning Miss Northrop could
+see, like a miraculous creation of the night, up and down every
+east-and-west street, a range of azure mountains along either horizon,
+snow-crowned, clear-cut, against an exquisite blue sky. Every two or
+three weeks the surge of clouds would come rolling up with the south
+wind, and the rain would come down in torrents for days, till the
+Sacramento, yellow with mud, roared level with its banks; and then the
+storm would break away, and there would be a week or two of blue sky
+and brilliant air and green earth.
+
+One Sunday in March, between the early and the latter rains, Miss
+Northrop and Will Strong walked out together several miles over the
+plain. The gravel had long disappeared under green burclover and
+_filaria_, thickly dotted with the little yellow clover blossoms, the
+lilac ones of the _filaria_, and with small blue gilias. The flocks
+and herds had been driven down from the mountains where they spend
+their summers and autumns, and the air was full of the bleating of
+lambs. Up and down either horizon, converging toward the north, were
+the long ranks of the Sierras and Coast Range, deep blue, ruggedly
+tipped with white peaks of all shapes--the Lassen Buttes, the Yallo
+Balleys, and many a lesser one. Northward, in the interval between the
+ranges, miles and miles away, the solitary peak of Shasta rose above
+the dark oak-knolls, sharp-white from base to tip, against a stainless
+sky. They sat down on the warm clover, beside a noisy yellow stream
+that ran full to its banks on its way to the Sacramento. Winifred
+pushed back her hat, dropped her hands in her lap, and let her senses
+be played upon by the delicious air, the blue and white of mountains
+and sky and clouds, the luminous green, the rushing of water close by,
+and the bleating of flocks in the distance. It gave Will a good chance
+to watch her face--the sweetness of the mouth; the nobility of the
+level brows; the frankness of the eyes; the soft wave of her hair.
+There was a marked sadness in her face in repose; to wonder why, was
+to transgress the code of loyal humility that Will set himself; he had
+not even considered it due chivalry to speculate, much less ask, as to
+the reason of so amazing a phenomenon as her presence in California at
+all, and the incongruity of her school-teaching. Her pose was perfect,
+and yet nothing could be more unconscious. Was that marvellous
+spontaneity, that simple dignity, the regular thing among the men and
+women Winifred belonged with? It made him feel left very far out to
+think so. How incapable of effort for admiration she was, yet how
+invariably admirable!
+
+She caught him looking at her, in time. "What is it?" she said,
+simply.
+
+He colored with some confusion, but confessed a piece of his thought.
+"I was wondering if you really do not care at all for admiration. Most
+people would think they got the good of their living in being praised
+a fraction as much as you've been. If that's impertinent I beg your
+pardon; you asked me."
+
+The portion of aristocrat's pride that was in Winifred was largely
+concentrated in an objection to talking of herself or letting other
+people do it; so she looked a little annoyed. She began with some
+constraint:
+
+"Yes--I care--at first--when it is the right one that praises. But
+there is always a reaction of self-distrust. It seems humiliating,"
+she went on more frankly, "to have been praised for having done some
+common thing--solved a problem, or written a poem, or handled a
+piano--a little more or less cleverly, when one comes to think what
+education and art are. And _personal_ admiration--that always seems a
+contemptible sort of folly, if you think of what great things there
+are to do and be in the world, and the lives the great lonely souls
+have lived."
+
+"Your achievement seems little to you," said Will, with some gloom,
+"because, I suppose, more always opens to you. To me, who have made
+none--"
+
+"Why, Will," she cried, with the most genuine dissent. "You have done
+more than almost any one I know. Do you call it nothing to do a
+college curriculum alone and under all sorts of hindrances? And I know
+that it was done well and thoroughly."
+
+"Oh, yes," he said, indifferently, tossing bits of clover into the
+stream, "I could have passed an A. B. fast enough. But you know better
+than I do, Winifred, that that's the least of a college course. I've
+seen fellows that had to work their way through and had no spare time
+or energy, and they always lacked a great deal of the college flavor;
+the education didn't permeate 'em. Then there are other things--music,
+art, social opportunities, capacity of expression--that are no slight
+things to miss; they make up more of first-class living than Greek
+optatives or the equation of a surface. It isn't really possible for a
+man, not backed by circumstances, to get himself into a position that
+some are born to." He let the clover be and looked up. "Oh, I'm not
+growling, Winifred," he said, hastily, smiling, as he saw her about to
+speak eagerly. "I'm only making philosophical observations, and using
+myself as an illustration. Why in the world should I growl to find
+myself stranded half way up, when there is a townful of people behind
+us clear down at the bottom, and no more their fault than mine? Why
+should I mind that I am left out from the best chances, any more than
+that a thousand other fellows are? 'What Act of Legislature was there
+that' _I_ should be cultured?"
+
+She was leaning forward with her irresistible eyes full on his, and
+face and voice vivified with that sympathetic expressiveness that
+makes speech count for far more than the words.
+
+"Will, that is true," she cried, "but it is only part of the truth.
+'Close thy' Carlyle; 'open thy' Emerson. It's true, you have missed
+some things that you deserved to have and that many of your inferiors
+have for nothing. But your life is only begun, and your ability and
+pluck can do so much that you needn't waste regret on anything they
+may fail to do. Even if circumstances be unconquerable that stand
+between you and some good things, are the things you have gained
+instead of less value?--your courage and patience, your self-reliance
+and trustworthiness and helpfulness? Why, Will, _character_ is worth
+more than knowledge of art, or familiarity with good society; just to
+live bravely is worth more than all the rest. Do you suppose I would
+exchange your companionship for that of a dozen 'cultured' people who
+could talk to me about 'sincere furniture'"--this was in the last
+decade, remember--"and Rauss's heads, as you can't, and who never
+showed me one spark of genuine feeling about the great things of life,
+as you can?"
+
+Will was overwhelmed. Winifred had talked of his affairs much,
+following them with unvarying interest, but of himself or herself,
+never; and it was actually a new idea to the young fellow that she
+could have any very high opinion of him. Moreover, it was the first
+time he had heard her speak with unveiled and ardent feeling.
+
+"You do not mean"--and he formed his words with difficulty--"that I
+could meet on equal ground people that--such people as _your_
+associates."
+
+"No; you would meet most of them on higher ground. If they didn't know
+it, that would be their discredit. I should think you could see
+that," she added, in a quick, parenthetic averse way, "from _their_
+associate. If you want to get a higher opinion of the value of your
+life, compare it with an ordinary, foolish, useless one--like mine."
+She gave him no chance to answer that, but was the next moment on her
+feet, suggesting that they walk on, and wishing they were not to stop
+short of the Lassen Buttes, whose apparent nearness, scores of miles
+distant as they were, was still a perpetual surprise to her eastern
+eyes.
+
+When everything has been made ready for it, a few sentences may easily
+make or mark an era in life; and it is probable that if Miss Northrop
+had not in effect told young Strong he was quite good enough for her,
+he might have remained her contented vassal for years. Six months of
+being her nearest friend worked their result, to be sure; but the
+humility they were gnawing at was of mediaevally tough fibre, and of
+twice six years' growth. His depreciation of himself, however, had
+only meant sense of distance from her; therefore, his sense of the
+significance of her speech was enormous. He felt his relation to her
+changed; he was shaken from all his moorings, and thrown into a mighty
+agitation that possessed him night and day, and only grew with time.
+For this was what it all came to: Was the distance between Winifred
+and himself greater than the distance between her and any other man?
+And when he had once thought that, the gate was open, and the
+besieging host marched in and took possession of every corner of him
+with longing and desire and a madness of tenderness.
+
+He thought of nothing else. He wrote his editorials and set type under
+an unceasing sense of it, as people have done brain-work and
+finger-work to an accompaniment of unceasing physical pain. For there
+was nothing joyous about it to him; it was all a bitter pain of mad
+desire to be something to her--to secure her, somehow, before this
+great, dark future swept her away from him. And yet the latter rains
+came and went, the green faded from the ground, the mountains grew
+dimmer and duller, and at last disappeared in the summer murk, before
+he took in his own mind the next step--from lover to suitor, as before
+from vassal to lover.
+
+He did so simply because he could not stand it any longer. It stood to
+reason that there must be a way out of such active torments. And,
+after all, why not he as well as any other man? It was absurd to
+suppose that Winifred could ever be _in love_ with any man, as a man
+would be with her. It occurred to Will that the thing to do was
+natural enough, after all--not to ask Winifred's love, but to offer
+her his. And he walked down to Mrs. Stutt's to do it, one August
+evening, a little before school opened after vacation. He was in good
+spirits, too; to come to action and to speech, after so long
+repression, was an inestimable relief. And she had been doubly
+friendly to him all this time.
+
+Mrs. Stutt was in her little strip of grass and oleanders. "That you,
+Mr. Strong?" she called out cheerily as he lifted the gate-latch.
+"Well, Miss Northrop's in the sitting-room, I s'pose. You go right in,
+and I'll come in when I've done my watering."
+
+"Thank you," said Will, absently, and walked on into the house.
+Winifred was not in the dark little sitting-room. He walked to the
+open window and stood there, expecting her to come in presently. There
+were veils of Madeira vine over the window, just opening their whitish
+tassels of bloom, and the air was full of the smell of them. Mrs.
+Stutt began to water the grass outside, and the shower of water from
+her hose glimmered through the Madeira vine; the noise of the water
+came to him, and the crying of crickets, and the smell of the freshly
+wet earth. Then he heard a step on the porch, and saw Winifred go down
+the short path to the gate. He could see by her white dress that she
+stood still there; so he went out, too, to join her. Mrs. Stutt was
+watering at the other side of the house now, and the two were alone.
+
+Will stopped a moment in the darkness and faint odor of a great
+oleander, a few feet from the motionless girl at the gate, to realize
+well the grace of her dim white figure, and her unconscious attitude.
+She stood in a weary way, with her head a little fallen back, and her
+hands hanging loosely clasped before her. There was so much and so
+incomprehensible emotion in the attitude, that Will felt vaguely
+thrust out into another world from that where her interests lay. She
+had not heard him approach, for the train from the south was just
+coming to a stand at the station, not a stone's throw off, and there
+was a great noise of jarring cars, and shouting men, and escaping
+steam, and ringing bell. He waited till the noise should be quite
+over. Some one came walking rapidly from the station; Will, glancing
+at the dark figure, thought it had, even in this dimness, an
+unfamiliar look. It paused close by the gate.
+
+"Winifred!"
+
+Will did not know the voice; the tone turned him blind and dizzy.
+
+Winifred started violently, and turned; she clasped her hands tightly,
+and lifted them to her breast in a frightened way, as she fell back a
+step.
+
+"Oh, my God!" she cried, under her breath. There was a rattle of the
+gate-latch, a sharp flying open of the gate, and the stranger held her
+in his arms.
+
+"My darling, my darling!" he said, with an infinite tenderness. "Did
+you think you could hide anywhere in all this wide world where I
+should not find you?"
+
+For just an instant she yielded to his clasp--then she drew back. "You
+must not," she said, softly, with unmistakable pain in her voice. "You
+know that. I thought if I was utterly out of sight or hearing, you
+would forget me, and _I_ might--forget myself."
+
+He broke in before she had fairly spoken. "You were mistaken,
+Winifred; there was no one between us. O my foolish little hot-head!
+if you had not been so headlong in your self-sacrifice--if you had
+only waited till I came back--I could have showed you in ten minutes
+that there was no place for it. Mollie is married to John Gates and is
+very happy. And you and I--my little girl, how nearly our two lives
+have been spoiled! Sweetheart," he said, laughing with a shaky voice,
+"I think I shall never dare let go of you again"--and he drew her back
+to him.
+
+She hesitated--surrendered--clung to him with a long sobbing breath.
+"Oh, I have wanted you so, I have _wanted_ you so!" she cried. "Oh,
+don't be a dream and melt away this time!"
+
+Will Strong, standing close in the darkness of the oleander, acquiring
+a life-long association with smell of Madeira vine and oleander and
+wet earth, cry of crickets and noise of sprinkling water, gathered
+himself together enough to creep away. He was _going_ to realize it
+pretty soon, he thought; he did not yet; it seemed likely to be beyond
+endurance when he did. As he passed the door some one opened it, and
+the lamp-light streamed about him; Winifred looked around and saw his
+face for an instant, and then he had slipped away through a side gate.
+
+He walked out from town across miles of dark plain, until he came to
+the empty channel of the stream by which they had sat in March.
+Underfoot not a blade of grass or green thing; no stranger would have
+believed that living thing had ever grown there. The flocks and herds
+had long since gone to the mountain pastures. The dry channel between
+shelvy banks of gravel showed white in the unclouded yet dull
+starlight. The air was lifeless, and faintly tainted with smoke from
+forest fires in the mountains.
+
+Will threw himself down on his face, clutching with his fingers at the
+gritty dirt. He knew as surely then, looking forward to his life, as
+he will know at the end looking back, that this would never be an
+out-lived romance. Nor could he creep back into that temple of dreams
+from which Winifred's own hand had lured him--it had crumbled to dust
+behind him. Nor was he like one who, losing a woman, loses only his
+best pleasure and best ambition; she was the vital condition to every
+pleasure, every ambition; losing her, he lost all. The realization
+clutched him by this time like a tiger. There was not a living
+creature within miles; a man might go down to primal depths, might
+drop even the restraint of the human in outcries and struggles as free
+as a tortured beast's. It may be that solitude sees more such scenes
+than a decently decorous world would like to think.
+
+Yet there was a sense upon him of some moral demand, some decision to
+be made; and in time he began to try to collect himself for it. It
+would seem as if there could hardly be a position that left less for
+him to decide. There was no question of renouncing--he had never had
+anything to renounce. Nevertheless, his instinct was correct in urging
+him to a moral conflict and a momentous decision. The question was
+simply whether he could pick up his life again, could find faith that
+anything was worth living for; or whether life was to be a hollow
+going through the forms--frustrated, purposeless, full of brooding
+regret and jealousy, shame, and sense of wrong. But he could not drag
+his bruised mind up to the question; he could not even think what it
+was. He lifted himself up, stepped down into the dry channel, and
+knelt on the white stones, obeying old association with the attitude;
+laid his arms and head on a shelf of the bank, and let the stunned and
+nerveless will lie passive, while the accumulated forces of years--of
+generations--passion and pain and despair and love, shame and
+bitterness and loyalty--trampled back and forth over him, fighting out
+for him his battle.
+
+It was deathly, aggressively still; not an insect to chirp, not a tree
+to rustle; only bare earth and sodden air. After a long time Will
+raised his head and threw it back, looking up at the dull stars, while
+his outstretched hands lay clasped before him; he began to breathe
+more deeply. Not many minutes later he rose and walked homeward across
+the dim, wide waste.
+
+It was afternoon of the next day when he stood at Mrs. Stutt's door
+again. Mrs. Stutt looked at him with the embarrassment of conscious
+pity as she admitted him. People had been looking at him all day, on
+the street and in the office, with the same embarrassment and pity.
+Miss Northrop was packing, the good woman said; and, in an answer to
+her call, Winifred came out from her room into the little
+sitting-room. She, too, was evidently under agitation and
+embarrassment. Will had no doubt, from his first sight of her face,
+that she had seen and understood his haggard flight the evening
+before. He was himself entirely calm, as he held out his hand with a
+grave smile in silence.
+
+Winifred tried to speak naturally.
+
+"I had just sent a note to you, Will," she said, as they sat down.
+
+"About the school, I suppose," he answered, quietly. "You are going
+away at once?"
+
+"Yes." There she stopped, with her eyes downcast. She looked up to his
+face and caught her breath to speak, stopped, and began again.
+
+"You have been very good to me all this year--" there she hesitated.
+Her difficulty was to choose her words so as to ignore his secret, and
+yet not part from him in a cold or inadequate way.
+
+He rose, and crossed over to her.
+
+"Winifred," he said gently, "you are distressed on my account; and so
+it is better that I should speak of what otherwise it would be better
+to ignore. I want you to know that you have not harmed me."
+
+She rose quickly at that, and they stood near together, with their
+eyes fixed on each other's; the fulness of expression in her face
+seemed to take the place of answer. He went on steadily, speaking low:
+
+"I have thought it all over, and I find these two things stronger than
+any pain that may have come to me. Winifred, I cannot do you this
+wrong, to make you the instrument of evil to me. That is one of the
+two things. And the other is that there is nothing to reproach any one
+with; no one has done wrong; there is no cause for shame, or
+resentment, or bitterness--only for clean pain. Pain is no great evil,
+Winifred, when it is clean, no matter how sharp."
+
+He smiled at her tranquilly enough as he spoke. In truth, he was not
+unhappy at the moment. It is not during but after the parting
+interview that the pinch comes. She answered him only with her deeply
+attentive look, and he went on:
+
+"I did not come to those convictions; they came to me; or rather, they
+were in me, and bore down all the other feelings. All the noisy
+passions dropped away before them, and left just those clear voices in
+my soul. They made all my love and loyalty work together, instead of
+tearing me in opposite directions. For, see, Winifred, hasn't it been
+our moral faith for years that to do spiritual harm to another is the
+greatest evil that can befall one, and to do him spiritual benefit,
+the greatest good? All these years since we were in school together,
+I have been proud to think that it could be only a good to you to have
+me think of you as I have thought, because it was only a good to me.
+And I will not be so disloyal now as to let my life be spoiled because
+of you."
+
+Winifred looked at him aghast. "All these years!" It was a revelation
+intolerable at first shock to a woman that was no coquette.
+
+"I think it was all the time dimly in my mind what _your_ last year
+had been; at last I went out of my life and into yours. I want you to
+understand that I do not think of it with bitterness, because I
+entered so little into it; I realize, Winifred"--his voice broke from
+its steadiness--"that you have been good, _good_ in it all. If you had
+not been--if you had trifled with me--I think I should be at the
+bottom of the river to-day. But since no one has wronged me," he went
+on more quietly, "since nothing monstrous or unnatural has befallen
+me, everything I believed in has the same claim on me as ever.
+
+"And I want you to know that you need not _mind_ my love, Winifred."
+She dropped her eyes and stood mute. "It is something you may be
+willing and glad to have without troubling yourself because you cannot
+return it. For any pain that has happened, do not trouble yourself
+about that either--if I don't mind it, you needn't," he said, smiling
+a little, with a certain manly sweetness quite new to him. "I find one
+gains something in having no longer to struggle with pain and try to
+keep her at arm's length."
+
+She looked up then, and cried out passionately. "O Will, Will, if only
+there was anything in all this world I could do to make it up to you!"
+
+"There is nothing to make up," he said. "I would rather have pain from
+you than pleasure from any one else. But there _is_ something that you
+can do; this: not to feel my love a burden laid upon you, an annoyance
+or trespass, an anxiety or self-reproach--or anything that will make
+you want to get rid of it," he finished, smiling again; "and to let me
+give you all I wish, on the condition that I ask no return. And if, in
+a few years, I should ask to come and live near you, and be good
+friends--may I? It would be hard," he urged, less quietly, "that I
+should have to lose your friendship, when I ask nothing more. Would
+you take away the crumbs from me, just because I have lost the loaf?"
+
+"Is that best, Will?" she began, anxious and hesitating. "Oh, I mean
+for you. It isn't _possible_ that you can always--think of me--so.
+There is no reason. If you do not see me--somebody else--"
+
+"Have I been seeing you these dozen years?" he said, very gently. "You
+may trust me to know what is best for me. Why think--think a moment,
+dear friend, and you will understand. You, of all people, _can_
+understand the plane I want you to take me on."
+
+Winifred's eyes kindled and her face flushed. "I see. I _do_
+understand. I can meet you on your own plane, and I can trust your
+friendship and you. I am not afraid to have you come--after a year or
+two."
+
+"Thank you," he said, shaken as he had not been.
+
+"It is because you are very noble that any good can come out of this
+harm," she went on, with an eloquent tremor in her voice. "I can see
+that before very long I shall be, as you said, willing--glad--for so
+great a gift--only always sorry for your sake. I am very grateful
+_now_--I cannot tell you how great a thing I think it is--from such a
+man as you."
+
+They had both become embarrassed and shy now, and both stood silent to
+recover their ease. "You leave by this evening's train?" he asked in a
+minute.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then this is good-by."
+
+"For a while."
+
+They moved together to the door. As they reached it, Will turned and
+held out his hand, with an attempt at a smile. They stood a few
+moments with hands clasped. Winifred's downcast eyes were filling.
+
+"Good-by, Winifred," he said.
+
+"Good-by," she answered, faintly. A minute later she had thrown
+herself sobbing on her bed, and he was walking down the street.
+
+He met Winifred's lover, coming from the ticket-office--a gentleman
+high-bred and handsome in every line, a scholar by his appearance, a
+good man by his eyes, a good companion by his smile. There were all
+those differences between him and Will that the young man had talked
+of and Winifred in all sincerity had called nothing; and, moreover,
+she would never in the world have loved him if there had not been. The
+girl was an aristocrat after all, when it came to a question not of
+friendship but love. And Will knew it; love is penetrating enough to
+divine that much from scanty data. He looked at the stranger with a
+sort of transferred reverence--what a king of men must he be whom
+Winifred could crown! And if he did not look at him without a blinding
+pang, it was, nevertheless, a test of the thoroughness of the night's
+work that there was neither bitterness nor aversion in it. Something,
+that sense of having disarmed pain--not dodged nor outwitted it, but
+disarmed it forever--must have been in Winkelried's consciousness as
+the spears pressed in.
+
+But, after all, it is _taking_ the second place that costs--not being
+there after it has been once sincerely and thoroughly accepted. Bunyan
+knew long ago that it was easy walking in the Valley of Humiliation,
+once you had come safely down.
+
+On the street an acquaintance met Strong and turned to walk beside
+him. It was the man who would not trust Judge Garvey out of sight with
+his baby's silver mug.
+
+"I was just going to your office," he said. "It's something very
+important." He spoke with a marked friendliness, and a transparently
+covert sympathy. "You see," he went on, confidentially, "we fellows
+that have been against Garvey begin to think our minority's about
+over. The whole affair of Miss Northrop has hurt him. He was shabby
+when first she came, about that Coakley business, and he's been ugly
+about her ever since in a sneaking sort of way. Such a lady, too! And
+there's a thing come out to-day--if you'll excuse my speaking of it."
+He showed a certain embarrassment. "Uncle Billy Green gave it away
+first--he knew, being postmaster--but Garvey's been boasting of it
+himself, too, in the bar-room. You know you used to write to a fellow
+in the States, and haven't written to him so much lately."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Strong. The man caught a hint of what he did not
+say in what he did.
+
+"Uncle Billy gives away any interesting point he gets in the
+post-office," he said, apologetically. "You knew that before, Strong.
+Well, Garvey got out of him, too, that Miss Northrop didn't have nor
+write any letters; and he got it into his head she was hiding. Anybody
+could see she wasn't used to working for a living--"
+
+"Look here--"
+
+"Bless you, Strong, I sha'n't say a word disrespectful to her. This is
+something you'd ought to know. He just did up a 'Clarion' with some
+notice about the school in it, and her name marked, and sent it to
+that fellow you used to write to; and he wrote on the margin: 'Please
+forward to Miss N.'s friends.' He said in the bar-room, to-day, that
+he didn't know just what would come of it, but it stood to reason if
+she was on the hide, it would damage her or you, somehow."
+
+"It hasn't, however," said Strong. "But if _I_ stayed round the
+bar-room--"
+
+"Oh, we choked him off. I tell you, Strong, everybody thinks it was a
+pretty dirty trick. The people don't care so much about his big
+tricks, but they won't stand any such small ones. No money in it,
+either--only spite! Well, the long and the short is--it's only a few
+weeks till convention; and if you'll take hold now while they're mad,
+you can name your own man for Senate, and we'll send you to Assembly."
+
+"I don't want to go to Assembly," said Will, standing on his
+office-step. "I'll gladly do my best to defeat Garvey for Senate."
+
+"Well, you just decide on your man, and bring him out in your next
+paper and we'll elect him. The people are strong for you just now. And
+I should think you would look on going to Assembly as a sort of
+duty--purify politics, you know."
+
+"Well--I'll think about it." And young Strong walked into his shabby
+office, stopped to give Jim directions, then went in behind his
+screen, and sat down to write a proper editorial for beginning the
+reform campaign.
+
+
+
+
+HOW OLD WIGGINS WORE SHIP.
+
+AN OLD SAILOR'S YARN.
+
+BY CAPTAIN ROLAND T. COFFIN.
+
+_The World, N. Y., November, 1878._
+
+
+"Well, sir," said the old sailor, "here we are ag'in. I ain't been
+round here much lately, and atwixt you and me, she's put the 'kybosh'
+onto it, holdin' that comin' round here and hystin' are promotin' of
+rheumatics, which, as are well known, they come of long and various
+exposures in all climates, to say nothin' of watchin' onto a damp dock
+night arter night continual. But what's the use? Everybody knows as a
+quiet home are better than silver and fine gold, which it stands to
+reason are to be obtained in two ways. Wimmin are like sailors in some
+respects; whoever has anythin' to do with 'em must either be saddled
+and bridled, leastwise, or else booted and spurred. You've got to ride
+'em, or else they'll ride you. Bein' a sailorman myself, it ain't
+likely as I'd say anythin' ag'in 'em; but if the truth must be told,
+I'll say this--that while it'll never do, not at no price, for to let
+sailors git the upper hand, there's many a man as has giv' the helm
+into the hands of his old woman and made a better v'yage thereby; and
+I don't mind sayin', sir, that havin' while follerin' the water got
+into the habit of allowin' her for to be skipper in the house durin'
+my short stoppin's on shore, it got for to be so much the custom, that
+since comin' home for a full due I ain't never tried for to break away
+from it; and though human natur' is falliable, and she does make
+mistakes, especially about the hystin', on the whole, and by and
+large, I judges I've been a gainer by it, as I believes at least eight
+men out of ten would be if they took the hint accordin' and went and
+done likewise.
+
+"I don't go for to say as she ever goes to go to say I ain't a-goin'
+for to let you go there; but it are terrible aggrivokin' when the
+rheumatics twinges awful, and as it might be that this saw-mill don't
+want no more splinters laid onto it, to have her feelin'ly remark,
+'Well, if you will go round a-guzzlin' ale with your swell friends and
+a-leavin' your lawful wife to home alone you must expect to pay for
+it,' whereas I know it are the dock and other causes long gone by; but
+that knowledge don't ease the pain a morsel, and the last time I were
+that way tantalized I swore I wouldn't come here no more. But whatever
+are the use? Man resolves and reresolves and then takes another
+snifter, and so here I are, and bein' as its cold, as so she sha'n't
+have no basis for her unfeelin' remark about guzzlin' ale, we'll let
+him make it hot rum, and arter the old receipt, neither economizin' in
+the rum or the sugar, but givin' a fair drink for honest money.
+
+"Well, well (just mix another afore the glass cools off), to think how
+the time goes. Here it are autumn ag'in, and in a few weeks 'twill be
+winter. It reminds me (I'll take one more, if you please, with one
+lump less of sugar and the space in rum) that I'm gittin' old, and I
+feels it. My eyes ain't so good and my legs ain't so good, and I ain't
+so good all over. When I goes down to the dock my lantern are heavier
+than it used to were, and the distance ain't so short as it used to
+seem from the dock to the house. Afore many years I'll be put quietly
+away, and though I'd prefer bein' beautifully sewed up and launched
+shipshape in blue water, with a hundred pound weight for to keep me
+down, I s'poses it won't make much difference, nohow. Anyhow, if I
+lives as long as old Wiggins, I hopes I may go as well at the end. I
+don't think I ever told you about him, and if you'll let him fill 'em
+up ag'in--for it's one of the vartues of hot rum that the more you
+drinks the thirstier you gits--I'll reel you the yarn right off.
+
+"Old Wiggins had been all his life into the Liverpool trade and had
+got well fixed, so far as cash were consarned; and so when he came for
+to be seventy or seventy-two years old he were persuaded for to knock
+off for a full due and spend the balance of his life ashore. Goin' up
+to some place in Connecticut, he buys hisself a place there and
+settles down. Well, for a time he were all right, a-fixin' up his
+house, a-buildin' new barns and hen-coops and fences and the like, and
+I've heerd tell that the house where he kep' his pigs were better than
+any dwellin'-house in that region, and the whole place were the wonder
+of the country roundabout; but arter he had fixed his house all up
+like a ship, with little staterooms all through the upper part of it,
+and had got everythin' inside and out in shipshape order, and there
+weren't nothin' else he could think of for to do, he gits terribly
+homesick and discontented, and times when he'd come to the city for to
+collect his sheer of the profits of ships as he had a interest in,
+he'd sit for hours on the wharf a-watchin' the vessels on the river,
+and it were like drawin' teeth for to git him to leave and go up to
+his home. His eyes had giv' out sometime afore he quit the sea, and
+his legs was shaky, so as he had to walk with a settin' pole, and his
+hand were tremblin' and unsteady; but aloft he were still all right,
+and his head were as clear as a bell.
+
+"Arter bein' ashore a matter of seven year, he comes to town one day
+to see a ship off what he had been in afore he quit, and in which he
+had a half interest. The skipper of that ship, which her name were the
+Vesuvius, he bein' called Perkins, in comin' from the Custom House
+arter clearin', got athwart-hawse of a dray and were knocked down, the
+wheels passin' over his legs and breakin' of 'em, and whatever do old
+Wiggins do--the home-sickness bein' strong onto him--but says to the
+agents, 'It are a pity for to lose a day's fair wind; I'll go aboard
+and take her out myself;' and, sure enough, he done it, never lettin'
+on to the folks at home, but leavin' the agents to tell 'em arter he
+were gone.
+
+"Into that ship I were shipped, she bein' 830 tons or thereabout, with
+three royal yards across, and loaded with flour and grain, there bein'
+sixteen of us afore the mast, with two mates, carpenter and cook, and
+steward, leavin' on the 16th of November, and, unless I'm mistakened,
+in the year 1843.
+
+"We towed down to the Hook and out over the bar, and then put the
+muslin on to her with a fine breeze from sou'west, and I supposes
+there weren't a happier man in the world than old Wiggins when he
+discharged the pilot and steamer and took charge.
+
+"'I've giv' 'em the slip,' says he to the mate. 'I've giv' 'em the
+slip; they thought I were too old for to go to sea, but I'll show 'em
+thar's plenty of life into me yet; git out all the starboard stunsails
+and see to it that she's kep' a-movin' night and day, for in sixteen
+days I expects to walk the pierhead in Liverpool.' Well, sure enough,
+a-movin' she were kep', and I never seen harder carryin's on than I
+seen that passage; but we never lost a stitch of canvas, 'cause the
+old man not only knowed how to carry it, but he knowed how to take it
+off of her when it be to come off, and in a gale of wind he'd 'liven
+up wonderful, whereas in light weather he'd show his age. It were
+funny for to see him takin' the sun and tryin' to read her off, which
+he weren't able for to do, not by no means.
+
+"'What d'ye stand on?' he'd say to the mate arter screwin' his eye to
+the glass and tryin' to make it out; and when the mate would tell him,
+he'd say, 'I believe that agrees with me; just take a squint at my
+instrument; my eyesight ain't just as good as it used for to be, and I
+don't quite make it out.' Then the mate would read him off his
+instrument, and arter he'd made it eight bells he'd go down and work
+it up and prick her off. The fourteenth day out we made the light on
+Fastnet Rock, off Cape Clear, and went bowlin' along the coast,
+passin' Tuskar next day, and swingin' her off up channel and round
+Hollyhead past the Skerries and takin' a pilot off P'int Lynas. It
+were a sight worth seein' for to watch the old man handle her in
+takin' a pilot. The wind were fresh from west-nor'west, and we passed
+the Skerries with all three royals set and lower topmast and
+to'gallan' stunsails on the port side. As soon as ever we passed the
+rocks we kep' off for Lynas, and as soon as the stunsails got by the
+lee they was hauled in. Then with the wind about two p'ints on the
+starboard quarter we went bilin' along for the boat which we seen
+standin' off shore just to the east'ard of the P'int. There were a
+pretty bubble of a sea on, and afore we gits to him he goes about
+standin' in to the bay and givin' sheet. We follers along arter him,
+goin' two feet to his one, still carryin' all three royals, with hands
+at halliards and clewlines. Just afore we gits to him the old man
+sings out, 'Clew up the royals, haul down the flyin' jib, haul up the
+crochick and mainsail.' By this time we was well under the land and in
+smooth water. Keepin' his eye onto the pilot-boat, which were a couple
+of p'ints onto our weather bow, the old man no sooner seen her come to
+than he sings out, 'Hard up the helm!' And as we swung off afore the
+wind we runned up the foresail and laid the head-yards square; then
+mannin' the port main braces we let the to'gallan' yards run down on
+the caps and let her come to ag'in, and so nicely had the old man
+calculated the distance that as she come to the wind she shot up
+alongside of the pilot-boat, stoppin' just abreast of her and not over
+twenty foot away.
+
+"'That was well done, Mr. Mate,' said the pilot, as he come over the
+side; 'some of these galoots makes us chase 'em half a day afore we
+can board 'em. Fill away the head-yards, put your helm up, run up the
+flyin' jib, brail up the spanker check in the arter yards,' and as she
+swung off he comes aft to the wheel where I was a-steerin', and says,
+'Keep her east-sou'east, my man; giv' us a chew of terbacker.' We
+soon had the muslin piled onto her ag'in, and sure enough, as old
+Wiggins had said, the sixteenth day out he walked the pierhead in
+Liverpool.
+
+"I understood as old Wiggins was made a good deal on in Liverpool as
+bein' the oldest skipper that had ever come there, and the Board of
+Trade and what not giv' him dinners, and so on--which, considerin' his
+age, he oughtn't to have took--and by other skippers at the hotel he
+were much honored, bein' giv' the head of the table and treated with
+great deference--and all this dinin' and winin' and feastin' weren't
+no good to him--and, arter a stay of three weeks, when we ag'in went
+down the river with full complement of passengers and a good freight,
+he weren't not by no means as well as when we went in. We had, too, a
+tough time down channel, a stiff sou'wester, with rain and thick
+weather, and it told onto the old man, so that when arter bein' out a
+week we at last got clear of Tuskar and had the ocean open, the relief
+from the strain fetched him, and he were took down sick.
+
+"Whether it were to punish him for comin' to sea at his time of life
+or not I don't know; but from this on we did have the devil's own
+weather. Gale after gale from the west'ard, shiftin' constant from
+sou'west to nor'west, and tryin' constant to see from which quarter it
+could blow the hardest.
+
+"The mate were a plucky and a able young feller, by the name of
+Graham, and he kep' her a-dancin' as well as the old man would have
+done. Constant she had everythin' put to her that she'd bear, and
+always were she kep' on the tack where she'd make the most westin',
+and so she struggled along till we was as far as thirty degrees west,
+we bein' thirty days out and not yet half way. Every day we asked the
+steward how old Wiggins were a-gittin' on, and every day he'd shake
+his head and say 'no better;' and it come to be understood, fore and
+aft, that it were as much as a toss-up if the old man ever smelled
+grass ag'in. We had a little let-up arter gittin' into the thirties,
+and for a day or so had fine weather and a chance to dry our dunnage.
+Fine days, however, is scarce in January on that herrin' pond--I'll
+take just another; mentionin' herrin's makes me dry--and when you gits
+'em they are most always weather-breeders. I went up on to the main
+royal yard when our side come up at 8 o'clock one mornin' for to sew
+on the leather on the parral, and it were like a day in May. Afore I
+got the leather sewed on I be to look out for myself, 'cause they was
+goin' to clew up the sail, and from that time on it breezed on from
+the sou'ard, keepin' us constantly takin' the sail off of her, till at
+four bells we was under double-reefed topsails and reefed courses,
+with jib, crochick, and spanker stowed. We hammered away under this,
+carryin' on very heavy, 'cause she were headin' west-nor'west, which
+were a good course, till eight bells in the arternoon watch, when the
+sea gittin' up so tremendiously we had to furl the reefed mainsail
+and mizzen topsail and close reef the fore and main topsails.
+
+"You'd think that were snug enough for any ship, now, wouldn't you?
+and sartin it are; no ship ever ought to have less canvas than this,
+till it blows away, 'cause she's safer with it onto her than with it
+off, the reefed foresail supportin' the yard. Well, we'd had gales and
+gales, but this here gale beat anythin' that I'd ever seen, and at
+seven bells in the first night watch, with a tremendious surge, the
+weather leech rope of the foresail giv' way, and in a jiffy away went
+the foreyard in the slings--the foresail and fore-topsail goin' into
+ribbons. All hands, of course, was busy for'ard, tryin' for to git
+some of this wreck stuff tranquillized, when all of a suddint from the
+poop come the old man's voice, full and round and clear, and not
+shrill and pipin' as we'd heerd it last, and above all the roarin' of
+the gale and the din of the slattin' canvas, we heerd him shout:
+'Stations for wearin' ship. We must git her head round to the
+sou'ard,' he bawled in the ear of the mate, as Mr. Graham struggled
+aft; 'the shift will come in less than half a hour, and its goin' to
+be tremendious; if it catches us aback it won't leave a stick into
+her; but it ain't a-goin' to catch us, sir; I've brung her through
+many and many a time like this. I'll bring her through this one, and
+then you must do the rest. Now, then,' says he, 'stand by, put your
+helm just a few spokes a-weather, don't check her at all with the
+rudder, slack a foot or two of the lee braces and check in to
+wind'ard; keep your eye constant on that sail, Mr. Clark'--that
+were the second mate--'and don't let it shake; keep it good full and
+give her away; lay the crochick yard square, and come up to the
+main-braces, all of you.' And so, gently, as if she'd been a sick
+child, he coaxed her to go off, and she begin to gather way. As soon
+as she done so the helm were put hard up, and the main-yard rounded
+in, just keepin' the topsail alift, but not permittin' it to shake. As
+she went off till she got the sea on the quarter, a mighty wave came
+a-rollin' along, boardin' us about the main riggin', floodin' the
+decks and dashin' out the starboard bulwarks. The minnit we got the
+wind onto the starboard quarter we braced the main-yard sharp up with
+the port-braces and bowsed the weather ones as taut as a harp string.
+'Now, then,' says the old man, 'never mind that trash for'ard, let
+that go; git a jumper on to the main-yard and a preventer main-topsail
+brace aloft; lay aloft for your lives, and clap preventer gaskets on
+everythin' that's furled; we'll have it soon from the north'ard fit to
+take the masts out of her.' He were right. In a short time there were
+a instant's lull, and then with a roar that were almost deafenin' came
+the cyclone from the north. Thanks to the old man's sagacity and
+experience, howsever, we was a-headin' sou'-southeast when it hit us,
+and it struck us right aft.
+
+"'Steady as you go,' shouts the old man, and then, a minnit arter, as
+she gathered way, he says ag'in to the mate, 'We must let her come to,
+Mr. Graham, we can't run her in the teeth of the old s'utherly sea;
+ease down the helm and let her smell of it.' It was a powerful whiff
+she took, for as she come to and felt the force of the wind, all three
+to'gallan' masts went short off at the cap, the main-topsail sheets
+parted, and in an instant there wasn't a piece of the sail left big
+enough for a lady's handkerchief.
+
+"'That's all it can do,' said the old man to the mate, bitterly; 'git
+this trash on deck as soon as possible, and git her a-waggin' once
+more; I've brung her through it safe, and am goin' home,' and with
+that he dropped onto the poop as dead as mutton. He had come on deck
+bare-headed and with nothin' on but his drawers and shirt, just as he
+had laid in his bunk for a fortnight, and the exposure had carried him
+off. However, he knowed that the shift were so near nobody ever could
+tell. There were no doubt, however, but that his gittin' her weared
+round were our salvation. If that gust had a-struck us aback our masts
+would have gone sartin, and it's a toss-up but what we'd a-gone down
+starn fust afore she'd a-backed round. Next day we giv' old Wiggins a
+funeral fit for the Emperor of Rooshy, and he well desarved it. I
+don't know as ever I seen a prettier sew-up than we done on him,
+wrappin' him first in the American ensign and then kiverin' him with
+brand-new No. 4 canvas. Considerin' the sails we'd lost and how much
+we needed the canvas, I think he must have been satisfied that we done
+the handsome thing by him. The day was beautiful and clear, although
+the wind still blowed a gale. We hadn't been able to do much with the
+wreck stuff, except git lashin's onto it for to keep it from swingin'
+about, and we hadn't dared for to try for to send up another
+main-topsail. We had set the reefed mainsail for to steady her, and
+that were all. The three to'gallan' masts was still a-hangin' over the
+side, and the ribbons of the foresail and fore-topsail was still
+a-flutterin' in the breeze, when at eight bells, at midday, all hands
+was called for to bury the dead. Everythin' that we had in the way of
+nice clothes we had put on for to do honor to our captain, and most of
+us was able to sport white shirts and broadcloth. We laid the old man
+onto a plank and kivered him with the union jack, and all hands
+gathered round him, while Mr. Graham read the sarvice. Everythin' went
+lovely, and just at the proper time we tilted the plank, and he
+slipped off without a hitch of any kind. Arter the mate finished the
+readin', he said, 'Men, there's a good man gone arter a long life of
+great usefulness. He were a sailor and a gentleman. I don't think as
+we ought for to cry over sich a man, and I propose we giv' him three
+cheers and God bless him'; and heartier cheers was never giv' than we
+giv' that day, arter which all hands got dinner."
+
+
+
+
+"----MAS HAS COME."
+
+BY LEONARD KIP.
+
+_Overland Monthly, January, 1870._
+
+
+It was called Beacon Ledge fully fifty years before the present
+lighthouse had been built upon it. For it was said that long ago, when
+wrecking was a profitable trade along the coast, and goodly vessels
+were frequently, by false lights, decoyed to their destruction, there
+was no more favorable point for the exercise of that systematic
+villainy than this rocky, high-lifted bluff. Projecting three or four
+hundred feet into the sea, with a gradually curved, sweeping line, it
+formed, to be sure, upon the one side, a limited anchorage--safe
+enough for those who knew it; but, upon the other side, it looked upon
+a waste of shoal, dotted, here and there, at lowest tide, with craggy
+breakers, and, at high water, smooth, smiling, and deceitful, with the
+covered dangers. Here, then, upon certain dark and stormy nights, the
+flaming beacon of destruction would glow brightly against the black
+sky, and wildly lighten up the cruel faces of those who stood by and
+piled on the fagots, while gazing eagerly out to sea to mark the
+effect of their evil machinations. Nor was it until some thirty years
+ago that the gangs of wretches were thoroughly broken up, and this,
+their favorite vantage-ground, wrested from them, and the tall, white
+lighthouse there securely founded--maintaining in mercy what had
+before been held as a blighting curse; lifting itself, like a nation's
+warning finger, and with its calm, serene glow, pointing out the path
+of safety. Then, in the mouths of all the surrounding inhabitants,
+Beacon Ledge became known as Beacon Ledge Beacon, and so kept its
+name, in spite of tautological criticism, or of different and more
+formal christening, by Government authority.
+
+Still, there hung around the place the memories or traditions of past
+violence, shipwreck, and murder--partly true, perhaps, but, doubtless,
+generally false, having only a few grains of fact or probability
+mingled with all kinds of distorted fictions--the deeds of pirates
+being supplemented to those of mere wreckers; the imaginations of
+fishermen along the coast ever inventing plenteous horrors, and wild
+tales of buccaneering rovers, originally written for other localities,
+being now wilfully adopted and here located, until, at last, there was
+hardly a known crime which could not find its origin or counterpart at
+Beacon Ledge, and the whole neighboring shore became a melancholy
+storehouse of terrors, disaster, and distress. These tales being
+discovered to be very pleasing to most strangers, were carefully
+cultivated and enlarged upon by each interested denizen of the place;
+and to me, also, for awhile, they had a peculiar charm. I seldom
+grew tired of hearing some grizzled, tar-incrusted fisherman reel
+off his tissue of improbable abominations. For awhile, I say, since
+there came, at last, a day when I cared no longer for such bloody
+traditions, forgot the shadowy horrors that flitted about the spot,
+and only thought and cared for it as the place where I had met and
+loved dear little Jessie Barkstead.
+
+She was the only child of the lighthouse keeper. In a worldly point of
+view, therefore, was it wisely done that I should have set my
+affections upon her? Possibly not; and it is likely that, had I known
+the weakness of my mind, I would have shunned the danger from the very
+first. But I was gay and reckless in my poor self-complacency and
+deceitful assurance of inner strength; and long before I had fairly
+realized how rapidly I was drifting, I found myself whirling down the
+swift current, and was lost. Nor was it a marvel that this should have
+so happened. To one who sits aloof in his unromantic, distant home, it
+is an easy thing, indeed, to moralize about matters of inferior
+station and _mesalliance_; but I believe that few could have seen
+little Jessie, as she first appeared to me, and not have felt some
+secret inclination to give way before those subtile charms of beauty
+and manner which invested her. Moreover, let it here be mentioned
+that she was not at all of humble birth or education. Old Barkstead
+was himself a gentleman by culture and station, and had once been the
+master of a gallant ship. In that important position he had been for
+many years a pleasant and popular officer; but at length, in an evil
+day, through some temporary weakness or neglect, he had lost his
+charge, and almost ruined his employers. The world--with what degree
+of truth cannot now be told--had charged the loss upon intoxication. A
+storm of obloquy and reproach arose. The man, bowed down with
+self-abasement and sensitiveness, had yielded to the blast, and
+attempted no defence; and, after awhile, obtaining, through some
+friendly influence, the custody of the Beacon Light, he had fled, with
+his child, to that obscurity, leaving no trace behind him, and caring
+only to pass the rest of his life in the quiet of the world's
+forgetfulness.
+
+I was myself the occasional tenant of a lighthouse, for, during a few
+weeks of the summer, I had been visiting the Penguin Light, some four
+or five miles distant up the coast. It was a tall and far-reaching
+structure, standing upon a jutting point of rock--almost the duplicate
+of the Beacon Ledge; the two lights glimmering at each other across
+the little bay between, and only to be distinguished apart at night by
+the different periods of their revolutions. Penguin Light was in the
+keeping of old Barry Somers, a long-known and valued sailor-friend of
+mine, who, in past days, had taught me to swim, and sail a boat, and
+now seemed to regard his office more for the opportunity it gave of
+entertaining me than for its actual salaried value. Thither,
+therefore, I would often repair during the summer months, avoiding the
+usual crowded haunts, and giving preference to old Barry's pleasant
+talk and my solitary rambles along the shore; occasionally running out
+to sea, that I might speak friendly pilots cruising in the distance;
+and now and then, by way of change and innocent attempt at usefulness,
+taking my turn at keeping up and watching over the safety of the
+lantern-lamps.
+
+It was during one of my lonely wanderings along the beach, when, with
+gun in hand, I made feeble and unsuccessful attempts against the lives
+of the merry little sand-pipers, that I first saw Jessie. She sat upon
+a rock, and was gazing out at sea. In her hand was a book, which she
+was not reading--who, indeed, could read collectedly, with that fresh
+breeze lifting such a pleasant array of dancing white-caps, and
+rolling inward those strong bodies of surf, which broke upon the shore
+with the ring of sportive Titans? Her handkerchief had fallen off her
+head, and her curls were flying wantonly in the breeze. I did not, for
+the moment, dream that she had any connection with the lighthouse,
+but rather that she was a chance city visitor at some inland
+country-house; and so I passed on, not venturing to speak with her.
+So, also, the next day, and the next--finding her always there when
+I passed, as though that particular hollow in the rock was her own
+especial, allotted refuge-place. At last, gaining courage from those
+frequent meetings, and, perhaps, from the half smile with which she
+began to greet my coming, I addressed her; and so the few words of
+salutation gradually lengthened into conversation, and, before we were
+well conscious of the fact, had ripened into terms of intimacy.
+
+How swiftly such matters sometimes proceed, when removed from the
+stiffness and ceremony of city life! A week only had passed, and I
+began to find that all my walks led in that one direction. Jessie was
+always at her place, with the uncompleted book in her hands; and I,
+going no farther, would seat myself beside her, throw down my useless
+gun, let the poor sand-pipers go undismayed, and so prepare for the
+comfortable, pleasant conversation of the morning. It was no
+unattractive pastime, indeed, to dispose the dry sea-weed for her
+seat; and then, placing my head upon another pile, remain half
+reclined at her feet, listening to her lively talk, and pretending to
+look out upon the blue waves, when, all the while, I was stealthily
+gazing into the deeper blue of her eyes. Nor, when I heard her
+story--or, so much of it as at first she deigned to tell me--did I
+hold her in less respect. The daughter of the lighthouse, indeed! Why,
+truly, this should matter nothing at all to me. What interest could I
+have in her past or present associations, or how could they, in any
+way, detract from her own native grace and loveliness? Were her eyes
+less bright, or was her conversation less cheery, or were her
+attitudes less picturesque and pleasing, because old Captain
+Barkstead, instead of still sailing a fleet merchantman, now mopingly
+cleaned his reflectors, and, when strangers came, hid himself in the
+lantern? Moreover, had she not brought with her from her former home,
+wherever that might be, a wit, and intellect, and intelligence which
+might adorn any position? What more could be needful in promotion of a
+quiet sea-side flirtation? In a week or ten days I should go away, and
+no longer see her. I should carry off with me the memories of a very
+pleasant face, that had always brightened up whenever I came near; and
+then, as, after awhile, new forms and scenes came between, I would, of
+course, forget her. For a time, she might possibly look out longingly
+after my return, and, finding that I did not come back, might--well,
+not exactly lose memory of me, I hoped. It was to be desired, perhaps,
+that a few thoughts of me would always tinge her future life, I argued
+with something of man's selfishness. I would not, indeed, that she
+should make herself miserable about me; but if, when her face had
+faded from my thoughts, some little record of myself should pleasantly
+remain with her, and now and then bring a transitory pang of musing
+regret, who should say nay?
+
+Therefore, in time, I went away. I did not steal off without farewell.
+That would have been but sorry recompense for the many cheery hours
+she had given me. But, taking her hand in mine, I gave to her my
+heartfelt thanks for all the pleasant past, and my cordial wishes for
+the future. I did not know that I should ever meet her again, I said.
+I hoped, however, that she would not too soon forget me. It was in my
+heart to utter more tender and sentimental words than I had any right
+to use, but I repressed the inclination. I cherished, too a secret
+hope that she would show some sorrow for my departure; but, if she
+felt any at all, she did not allow her expression, or her color, to
+betray her. With quiet self-possession, yet with a certain interest,
+too--as when one gives up a pleasant, valued friend--she bade me
+adieu; and so, lifting from her feet the ever-harmless gun, I passed
+away, round the border of the little bay, and returned to the city.
+
+There, however, somewhat to my surprise, I failed to forget her; and
+wherever I went, the image of that light, graceful form, seated upon
+the rock, began to obtrude itself upon my thoughts. Of course, it was
+only a fleeting impression, I reasoned with myself, and would soon
+disappear again, as newer scenes and faces forced themselves upon me;
+and I plunged rather more wildly than usual into society. But the
+proposed remedy did not have its due effect. In fact, it happened that
+the routine of gayety and formality seemed, by contrast, to aid the
+former impressions, making them seem more real and life-like than
+ever. It could not be that I was falling in love! But yet I could not
+fail to confess a strange interest; and, while knowing that I was in
+danger, was content to let myself drift whither the current might
+carry me.
+
+"I will see her once more. There was something I forgot to tell her
+when we parted last," I said to myself, trying in vain to establish
+and believe in a transparent self-deceit. "It was about a book, or
+something. It weighs upon my mind that she should deem me neglectful
+of her wishes. Once more, therefore, and then--"
+
+"Where away, so late in the autumn?" inquired a friend, who saw me
+starting out.
+
+"Down the bay, blue-fishing!" I exclaimed. "Just the real time for
+it."
+
+"Ah? Well, good-by, then! Rather too cold sport for me, though!"
+
+Therefore, I saw Jessie again--and yet again after that. Why should I
+not confess it?--or, after what I have already told, what is there
+left for me to confess, at all? For now, at last, I began to
+acknowledge to myself that it was not mere friendship or esteem I
+felt, but, rather, the more overpowering passion of real love. Gone,
+like a thin veil of vapor, were all my sophistries about a limited
+Platonic interest; my dread of incongruous association; my resolves
+against possible rashnesses; my fear of the world or its senseless
+gossip; my prudence, or my self-restraint! These all seemed to vanish
+in a day; and, yielding myself, slavishly, a willing captive to bright
+eyes and silvery tones, upon one fine morning I passed the Rubicon of
+safety, and offered her my hand and heart. But, to my sore dismay,
+she only softly shook her head.
+
+"You do not love me, then?" I murmured. I spoke not merely with sorrow
+and disappointment, but with something of wounded pride--feeling
+mortified that she had not at once accepted my devotion. Certainly, it
+had seemed to me, all along, that I was not disagreeable to her; and
+there was no doubt that in her manner, at least, she had always
+cordially welcomed my approach, and taken pleasure in my company.
+
+"I do not know--I hardly yet can tell!" she faintly said, drawing her
+hand from mine. "To me, you are my best and dearest friend; perhaps,
+the only one whom I can really call my friend. I know how glad I
+always feel when you come hither; how lonely I am while you stay away.
+But this I do not think is love--the real, true love which I should
+wish to feel."
+
+"But can it never be?" I pleaded.
+
+"How can I tell? It might come to that, at last; and yet--" She
+ceased, and there came over her face a strange, dead look at the sea
+before her--a straining gaze, as though she would fix her eyes far
+beyond, in another hemisphere, oblivious of the present.
+
+"Yet tell me, Jessie, have I a rival? This, at least, you might let me
+know. I will not go further, nor will I ask his name."
+
+For a moment she did not answer: still sitting, with that strange,
+rapt, straining gaze, and with an unconscious, mechanical motion,
+rolling the little sand pebbles down the side of the rock.
+
+"There was one," she said, at length. "I hardly know how to tell you
+about it. I believe that I cared for him, and yet I never told him so;
+nor did he ever tell me that he loved or cared for me, and yet, at the
+time, I thought that he did. It was some time ago--a very long time,
+it often seems to me; nor do I suppose that he and I will ever meet
+again. And now you know almost as much about it as I do myself," she
+continued, turning more fully toward me. "Or what more can I say?
+There was no pledge given on either side--no uttered words--and, of
+course, it has all gone by. But now and then, when I think about it, I
+feel regret; and it seems to me as though it were a different and
+stronger feeling than that which I have for you. Whether I am mistaken
+in my feelings, or how or what I really think, perhaps I cannot well
+tell; I am only a simple girl, after all, and know so very little
+about love, or what love truly is."
+
+"Yet, Jessie dear," I pleaded, "if you look upon that old matter as
+buried and gone--which, doubtless, it must be--why think longer about
+it, instead of turning to the new and truer affection which now I
+offer you? Believe me, you are letting your mind dwell merely upon a
+dream of the past--one of those vain fancies of girlhood, which,
+though for the time they may control the mind, have no real, vital
+activity or force."
+
+"It may be so," she said, in a sort of saddened, half-regretful tone.
+"Indeed, it must be so; and it might be that when the influence has
+passed away, I may find that I have cared for you better than I have
+imagined. I know that, even now, you seem dear to me as a friend, and
+that you are kind to me, making me always happy at your coming; yet,
+at the same time, I think that there is something wanting in it
+all--something which is not love. You see that I am very plain with
+you. Better, then, to leave me; is it not so? For I cannot now give
+you my heart; nor do I know whether, in the future, I can better do
+so; and it is not right that I should keep you at my side, hoping or
+expecting what, after all, may never come."
+
+"Nay, I will not leave you for all that, my Jessie," I said,
+impulsively. "I will still remain at your side, and trust even to the
+mere chance that, at some future period, you may relent."
+
+Therefore, dropping the subject for that time, I remained, and sought,
+by new kindnesses and attentions, to win some final increase of her
+favor toward me, but feeling, at the same time, a little sore and
+angry with myself. For, how wretchedly was I now maintaining that
+proper independence of spirit, which I had always insisted even the
+most blinded and devoted of lovers should feel! Had it not been my
+cherished theory that no man should surrender his freedom of heart
+without obtaining in return the utmost, unlimited, and unselfish
+devotion? Yet, here I was giving up my whole soul to a blind passion,
+rendered more and more absorbing, doubtless, by the opposition I
+experienced, and for response I found myself willing to be content
+with even the cinders of a former and only half-dead affection;
+trusting, as so many men have vainly trusted, that by earnest care and
+assiduity, I might, at last, re-illume the fading spark, and make its
+new brightness glow for me.
+
+So passed the autumn, during which I made frequent journeys between
+coast and city; striving, at times, with the cares of business to
+drive her image from my mind, and finding myself continually drawn
+back again to that quiet nook which, gifted with her presence, had
+become to me the brightest and only happy spot on earth. These
+frequent departures, so contrary to my usual habit, soon began to
+excite the inquiries and surmises of my friends. Fishing and shooting
+protracted into the season so far as almost to touch the edge of the
+winter, no longer served as satisfactory excuses for my absences; and
+there were some among my friends, who, in their speculations, came
+very near the truth, and hinted suspicions of some rustic passion. But
+still, turning off their insinuations with a laugh, I kept my
+secret--holding it the more carefully and earnestly, as I now began to
+see hope dawning for me in the future.
+
+For now, at last, it seemed as if I was about to prosper in my suit.
+Each time that I came, Jessie appeared yet more pleased to see
+me--more willing to give me that attractive confidence which can only
+exist in full perfection between acknowledged lovers; less disposed to
+analyze her mind's emotion with any critical severity, or speculate
+whether this or that feeling had, or had not, passed the line between
+friendship and love; more ready, at times, to surrender the struggle
+and self-examination, confess herself vanquished, and yield up her
+whole heart to my keeping. But not quite yet.
+
+"A little longer," she pleaded. "Let me feel somewhat more sure of
+myself before--"
+
+"And how much longer, then, Jessie?"
+
+"Till Christmas, George. When Christmas comes, I will either be all
+your own, or will send you away forever. Will not that do?"
+
+"It must, perforce, if I cannot gain better terms," I answered; and I
+returned once more to my city life. It was my fixed intention to
+remain there resolutely until the Christmas morning itself had come;
+but at last, unable to maintain the suspense, I stole back to the
+beach once more. It was now only two days from the time. The air was
+colder, of course, so that Jessie no longer took her place outside
+upon the rock; but we could sit and talk in the shelter of the
+lighthouse door, undisturbed by old Barkstead, who usually fretted and
+moped out of sight, about half way up the shaft.
+
+"Only two days more, dear Jessie," I said, "and then-- Will it be well
+with me, do you think?"
+
+"I think--I begin to think it will be well," she said, looking away.
+
+"Then, if so you think, why should you longer delay your choice?" I
+pleaded.
+
+"Nay, George, it is only two days more. Let it, then, remain as first
+we said, and we shall be the better satisfied at having held out to
+the proper end."
+
+Gaining nothing more from her, but feeling, in my own mind, well
+assured of ultimate success, I prepared to depart. Not to return to
+the city, indeed, for that would scarcely be worth while for such a
+little interval--but to the Penguin Light, where Barry Somers, as
+usual, had a place ready for me. But, as I was leaving, a sudden idea
+struck me--a wild, foolish fancy, it might be--yet, coming, as it did,
+with a certain investiture of originality, it fastened itself firmly
+and tenaciously upon me, and with animation I returned upon my steps.
+
+"Listen, dear Jessie!" I said. "Until Christmas morning, therefore, I
+will not see you again, for I do not wish thus vainly to renew my
+pleadings, and it will be pleasanter to know that when I meet you once
+more, it will be with sweet confession on your lips, and the
+permission to look upon you thenceforward as my own. But still, while
+we are thus separated, can we not commune together?"
+
+"How, George?"
+
+"With the lights, dear Jessie. See here, now! Mark how easily we can
+arrange our signalling, so that, across the intervening miles, we can
+flash our secret intelligence, and no one but ourselves be the wiser!
+Look!--I will now write you out some signs, and with them, at night,
+we will hold our intercourse. This very evening I will control the
+lamps at Penguin Light, and you shall read what I will therewith tell
+you. To-morrow you will answer me from here; and I, in turn, will
+decipher your sweet words. Will not that be a rare, as well as
+pleasant correspondence?"
+
+At the suggestion, her eyes brightened up with animated excitement,
+and at once she prepared to second my plan. How, indeed, could a young
+girl help approving of such a novel conception? To talk with
+beacon-lights across five miles of foaming, heaving waters, when all
+around was dark and dreary!--to flash from one sympathetic heart to
+another the glowing signals of intelligence comprehended by no other
+persons!--would not that be an achievement which would not only give
+pleasure in the actual present performance of it, but also in the
+recollection of it throughout future years? So, sitting down again,
+she eagerly listened to me, while I, drawing a paper from my pocket,
+noted down the requisite tokens, something after the usual signs
+employed in ordinary telegraphy--short and simple--and left them in
+her possession. I saw at once that she comprehended the principle; so,
+feeling no doubt that she would well perform her part, I departed,
+reading, in her pleased consciousness of sharing that novel secret
+with me, such probable indications of affection, that, for the moment,
+I could scarcely resist once more throwing myself upon her pity, and
+asking instant assurance of my happiness.
+
+But I forbore. Were I now to win her, in anticipation of that
+predetermined Christmas-day, might it not take something from the zest
+of the coming midnight correspondence?
+
+So, controlling myself, I returned to Penguin Light. I had been a
+little troubled with the idea that, perhaps, I might not be able to
+manage the matter, after all; but, almost to my joy, I found old Barry
+complaining of his rheumatism, hobbling about, and looking wrathfully
+up the winding stairs, in surly deprecation of his approaching ascent.
+Upon which I seized the favorable opportunity, and, while relieving
+him, forwarded my own views.
+
+"Let it alone for this night, Barry. Do you stay down here and make
+yourself comfortable, and I will keep watch in the lantern, and tend
+the lights."
+
+"And can you keep awake, Georgy, my boy, do you think?"
+
+"Of course I can, Barry."
+
+Whereupon, for sole answer, Barry stumped away into the closet
+below--which he called his room--laid himself carefully away upon
+his old blankets, and I mounted to the lantern. There--the hour
+of sundown having come--I lighted the lamps, and awaited my time.
+That was still some hours off; I was to do nothing until midnight.
+Meanwhile, I laid myself down to take a nap. I had promised
+watchfulness, but it was hardly necessary in the beginning of the
+night. The wicks were then fresh, and it was not likely that any
+accident could happen. It was only toward the end of the night, when
+the wicks might become incrusted or the reflectors dimmed, that
+especial care was needed.
+
+I awoke again about midnight, the hour appointed for the commencement
+of my feat. The sky had clouded over, and not a star was to be seen.
+All the better, indeed, for the experiment; for now there was no light
+to be seen in any direction, except where down the coast glimmered the
+Beacon Ledge Beacon--now faintly coming around the side, then glowing
+for a second like the mouth of a distant furnace, as its full focus of
+reflectors was pointed directly at me, then fading away, and so, for
+an instant, entirely disappearing, as it turned slowly toward the
+south. With the thick bank of clouds had come a cold wind from the
+north, premonitory of an approaching storm, though it might be days
+before it reached us--the only change to be now noted being the
+somewhat heavier swell of the surf, rolling up with a dull, sullen
+roar along the curve of the rock-bound shore.
+
+I prepared for action. As I sat in the lantern, the great brazen
+frame of polished reflectors swung around, once in each minute, within
+a few inches of the side. Beneath was the projecting handle of a
+crank, or lever, by pressing upon which the revolution could be
+instantly arrested. Stooping down, I could sit at ease, with my head
+clear from any contact with the lamps, and in that position could have
+the lever-handle within easy reach.
+
+Waiting for a moment until the reflectors pointed directly toward
+Beacon Ledge, I pressed upon the crank, and thereby suspended the
+revolution. Thus inert and motionless I held the machinery for a full
+minute, and then, lifting the rod, allowed the circuit to recommence,
+and gazed anxiously toward the other lighthouse. For a moment, no
+response; but then, as its reflectors came slowly around and pointed
+toward me, they, too, ceased in their motion for a full minute. With
+that my heart exulted. My signal for conversation had been seen and
+answered. So far, all went satisfactorily, and there was nothing left
+but to commence the main business of the night.
+
+What should I talk to Jessie about? I could not frame any lengthy
+sentences, indeed--for that, time and patience would not suffice. Nor
+could I tell her any especial piece of news: all such matters had
+already been discussed between us. Nor did it seem any thing but
+ridiculous to repeat, in such a labored manner, any of the ordinary
+commonplaces about health, or the time, or weather. The most I could
+do, in fact, would be to telegraph some short and simple idea,
+expressive of my affection for her, and of my ardent faith in its
+coming realization. This she would comprehend, and, like a proverb, it
+would tell, in brief, a whole long story.
+
+Watching until the reflectors again came round, I seized the lever,
+held the machinery in suspense for a whole minute, and then set it
+free again. Another circuit, and this time I arrested the motion for
+only fifteen seconds. A third, and here again a suspension of a whole
+minute. In this way, by putting the three circuits together, I had
+contrived to spell out the letter C--as in a telegraph office the
+operator would write a letter, though probably not the same one, with
+a long, a short, and a long scratch upon the paper slip.
+
+Again: and now I let the reflectors remain stationary, first, for a
+minute, then twice for fifteen seconds each. This--a long, and two
+short arrestations--spelled the letter H. So, little by little, I
+wrote out with the lighthouse flash against the dark sky the simple
+sentence,
+
+     "_Christmas is coming._"
+
+It was plain and expressive. It spoke to Jessie of the approaching
+day, when she should make her long-deferred decision, and when I so
+ardently anticipated that she would be mine. It reminded her that the
+time was now only a few hours distant. It told her that even those few
+hours were almost too long for me to wait. It was a short message,
+indeed, but the difficulty of thus spelling it out, letter by letter,
+made it long enough. Already, ere I had finished, my arm, as well as
+my attention, was fatigued; and when, at last, I made the long signal
+of conclusion, and gained, in reply, the token that I had been
+comprehended, I felt that I had done enough for one night, at least.
+
+Then, remaining awake, with some difficulty, until morning came, I put
+out the lights, and went down to see after old Barry. He was better;
+his rheumatism had not troubled him as much as he had feared; he would
+get up, and himself trim the lights for the coming night, and I had
+better lie down and rest. Which I gladly did, for I was tired, indeed,
+and began to have a suspicion that, though lighthouse telegraphy might
+be a pleasant excitement for once, it was inferior, as a steady means
+of communication, to the regularly established mails. So, I slept the
+sleep of the weary, if not of the just; and the morning was far
+advanced when I awoke.
+
+The new day was not stormy, as I had partly anticipated it would be,
+nor yet was it clear and beautiful. The gale seemed slowly coming on,
+but had not quite reached us. The sky was thick with scudding clouds,
+racing wildly from north to south; the air was cold and cheerless; the
+sea rolled in with a more powerful swell than usual, breaking along
+the shore with a boom like that of heavy artillery. The gulls flew
+to and fro, screaming and unsettled; a few coasting schooners,
+apprehensive of mischief, had put into the land-locked bay and there
+lay at anchor, awaiting better weather; and in one place, the
+fishermen were dragging their boats away back to the foot of the
+bluff, so as to avoid the still heavier swell which must erelong come.
+Yet, for all that, the storm had not commenced, and I could easily
+have walked over to Beacon Ledge and made my daily visit.
+
+But still I forbore. I had already told Jessie that I should not see
+her again until I came to hear the decision of my fate, and I resolved
+that I would be firm. Would it not, beside, spoil the whole romance of
+our midnight correspondence were I to visit her again so soon? I had
+signalled a greeting to her. What a lowering of sentiment it would be
+if now I were to obtain her response in commonplace manner, by mere
+word of mouth, instead of by the bright sheen of the lighthouse
+itself! Nay, that would never do. So, killing the heavy hours as best
+I could, I loitered up and down the beach, shooting at the gulls as
+ineffectually as I had before shot at the sand-pipers; watching the
+course of a few frightened vessels, which still continued to make for
+that little harbor of refuge; and, like a child, making sand-forts on
+the beach, for the pleasure of seeing them washed away again by the
+next heavy swell.
+
+Night came at last; and, as before, I volunteered to relieve Barry of
+the care of the lamps, and allow him additional opportunity to nurse
+his rheumatism. As before, he made some feeble show of hesitation, by
+way of reconciling his mind to the proffered rest, and then readily
+succumbed.
+
+"Be it so, Georgy, my boy," he said. "That is, if you are not already
+too tired. But I don't feel as bad now as last night, and may yet
+crawl up and relieve you."
+
+"Take it easy, Barry," I said. "It is not much trouble for me. I could
+stand it this fashion for a week."
+
+With that I left him alone in his snuggery, and climbed the stairs
+to the top. As upon the previous evening, I lighted the lamps, set
+the machine in motion, and then curled myself down in a corner of
+the floor to rest till midnight. I did not at once fall asleep,
+however. The gale, which had been preparing for the last thirty hours,
+now began to come in force, disturbing me with the sound of the
+wind--whistling shrilly through every crack and crevice--while the
+lighthouse itself constantly trembled with the blast. Even at that
+height, I could hear the sullen dash of the breakers against the
+shore; and once I could see, by the tremulous movement of lights far
+out to the eastward, that a large steamer was passing, and was
+laboring toilsomely with a more than usually heavy sea. She was in no
+danger, however, and gradually passed away from my line of vision.
+Then, at last, I fell asleep, though not into the soft, quiet slumber
+which I usually enjoyed. Even in my dreams the tempest followed me,
+filling my mind with distorted imaginings. The old stories, which I
+had so often heard and of late had forgotten, about pirates, and
+wrecks, and wreckers, and cruelties perpetrated upon the beach, now
+seemed to take actual life and reality. I could see the dismasted
+vessels struggling among the breakers, and the rows of hard, fierce,
+expectant faces lining the shore, and awaiting the turning up of the
+dead bodies. I was a dead body myself, even, and was being washed up
+on the beach, already drowned beyond hope of resuscitation, and yet
+strangely conscious of all that went on around me. A hand was placed
+roughly upon me, as I lay motionless upon the sand. Then, gaining new
+life, I cried aloud, and, waking, found old Barry leaning over me, and
+shaking me into consciousness.
+
+"Look over yonder, Georgy, my boy, at the Beacon Point," he said. "See
+how strangely the lights are acting. What do you make of it all?"
+
+I looked, and saw that the reflectors were pointing, motionless,
+toward me--resting there for a full minute; then they swept around
+slowly in their accustomed course, and again paused for a minute.
+Thereby I deciphered the letter M, and started into full and instant
+animation. I had, of course, overslept myself, and thereby, probably,
+lost a portion of Jessie's dear message. How much of it, indeed?
+
+"What is the hour, Barry?"
+
+"Half-past twelve," he said. "But what do you make of yonder
+business? Is it some accident to the works, do you think?--or has old
+Barkstead gone on a spree again, as they say he once did, and is now
+playing fast and loose with the lights?"
+
+While he had been speaking, new revolutions, broken, by longer or
+shorter pauses, had succeeded; and I deciphered the additional letters
+A and S.
+
+"Whatever it may be, Barry," I then answered--forcing myself to attend
+to him, and feeling a little guilty for being obliged to keep the
+mysterious secret from him--"don't you see that nothing can be done
+about it, now? Go, therefore, to bed again. This cold lantern is no
+place for you to remain in. And to-morrow, bright and early, I will go
+out myself, and ascertain what may be the matter."
+
+With that, I gently pushed Barry down the first two or three steps,
+and heard him go grumbling and puffing the rest of the way to his own
+nook. Meanwhile, the bright signalling from Beacon Point went
+on--letter after letter--until, at last, I read out the whole
+sentence:
+
+     "_----mas has come._"
+
+"Christmas has come!" This, of course, was the completion of the
+message; for it was not now difficult to supply those letters which,
+through my tardy awakening, I had missed. My heart bounded high with
+joy and exultation. Sanguinely as I had anticipated a favorable
+verdict at Jessie's hands, my utmost hopes had never asked for such a
+frank and instant admission of her preference as this. To be reminded,
+at the very first stroke of the midnight hour, that the important day
+for decision had arrived: what was this but being told that the day
+should bring its blessing with it?--that Jessie herself had awaited
+its approach as eagerly as I had, feeling as acutely the delay?--that
+now there should be no more disguise or misconstruction between us?
+Christmas had come! It was, indeed, a frank and noble response to my
+message of the night before, telling me that now, at last, she had
+surrendered her heart to my safe-keeping. Had it been possible, I
+would have run over at once to Beacon Ledge, and pressed her to my
+heart. But, of course, not the tempest merely forbade. I must wait
+until the more suitable time of morning, still many hours off.
+Therefore, composing myself as well as possible for quiet waiting, I
+sat, during the remainder of the night, musing over my pleasant
+prospects, and watching anxiously for the first ray of morning.
+
+It came at last--later than usual, for the tempest had not yet abated,
+and the approach of day was to be noted rather by the gradual
+lightening of the atmosphere, than by any gleam of eastern dawn. Then
+I extinguished the lights, stopped the machinery, and descended to old
+Barry.
+
+"I will now cross over to the Beacon Ledge," I said, "and find out
+what was the matter last night."
+
+"Without your breakfast, boy?" growled the old man.
+
+But what did I care for breakfast! My heart was too full of joy to
+care for any carnal needs; and, therefore, with some lame excuse for
+my hurry, and a guilty sense of continued deception weighing upon my
+mind, I set off, promising a speedy return. The task that I had set
+myself was no trifle, and I could not wonder at the solemn shake of
+the head with which Barry watched my departure. The tempest was at its
+height, and a blinding sheet of rain and ocean-spray drove wildly into
+my face at each step. The breakers dashed furiously upon the beach--so
+furiously, indeed, that the usual route along the hard-pressed sand
+had become impassable, and I was obliged to take a higher path
+through the loose, yielding pebbles. But I persevered bravely and
+determinedly, though so sorely fettered in my steps, and buffeted in
+my face, and, after nearly two hours, reached the other lighthouse.
+
+I entered without ceremony, and, in the angle of the first flight of
+stairs--our usual trysting-place ever since the lateness of the season
+had denied us the rock by the sea-side--I found dear Jessie. But
+she was not alone. Beside her, and too near, I thought, sat a
+pleasant-faced young man, who, at my approach, arose, and with a
+miserably counterfeited affectation of indifference, sauntered away.
+Jessie also arose, and with whitened face, came forward.
+
+"Why are you here?" she murmured. "Did I not signal it all to you, so
+that you might know the truth, and spare both yourself and me this
+meeting?"
+
+"What do you mean?" I gasped.
+
+"Did you not understand me, after all, kind friend? You know, indeed,
+that I once told you how I had loved another. I had no expectation of
+seeing him again, it is true. He was far away with his vessel when we
+departed from our little village, leaving, as you know, not a trace
+behind us; and, therefore, there was no way in which the secret of our
+present retreat could be learned by any one. Nor could I write to him
+and tell him, for he had not yet spoken to me of love, and I did not
+know but what he would choose, in the end, to forget me. But Fate,
+after all, is sometimes kind. Searching for me, without any trace to
+guide him, he had almost despaired, when, the night before this last,
+coming in from sea, he saw the Penguin Light; and noticing how, while
+you were signalling to me, at times it stopped for a moment, he
+thought it was the Upper Roadstead Light, and so ran in and made this
+little harbor by mistake. Thereby it was that we have chanced to meet
+again."
+
+"But, Jessie, you signalled to me that--"
+
+"I signalled that Thomas had come. Did you not comprehend? Or can it
+be that I had never happened to mention his name to you?"
+
+"Ah!" I feebly exclaimed, the light breaking in upon me; "Thomas was
+the word, then, was it? I thought--but no matter now for my thoughts.
+Well, farewell, Jessie. There can be no good word or wish that any one
+may give you that will not always be uttered twofold from my heart.
+You know it, kind friend, do you not?"
+
+"I know it, George, indeed," she said.
+
+And, tearing myself from her, I returned to city life. There I gave
+myself once more up to business and its cares, in hopes of drowning my
+disappointment; and now, after long months of sad regret, I have
+nearly succeeded, and have become myself again. But, at times, I lie
+awake in the middle of the night and listen to the city's roar, and in
+the sound I seem to hear once more the play of breakers on the shore
+at Beacon Ledge; and then I think, with sadness, how different might
+have been my lot, had I not so foolishly determined to utter, with the
+lighthouse lamps, and so many miles across, those words of greeting
+which should have been softly whispered instead, by lowly pleading
+lips, into closely attentive, willing ears.
+
+
+
+
+TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
+
+Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise
+every effort has been made to remain true to the authors' words and
+intent.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Stories by American Authors, Volume 9, by Various
+
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