TH6 BUST6D 6X-T6XAN 
 
 NRLF 
 
 B 3 
 
. G. 
 
THE 
 
 BUSTED EX-TEXAN 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER STORIES 
 
 BY 
 
 W. H. H. MURRAY 
 
 AUTHOR OF "DAYLIGHT LAND," "THE STORY THE KEG TOLD ME, 
 " ADIRONDACK ADVENTURES," ETC. 
 
 PHOTOGRAVURE PORTRAIT AND EIGHT FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 
 BY THOS. WORTH. 
 
 BOSTON 
 DE WOLFE, FISKE & CO., PUBLISHERS 
 
 1890 
 
COPYRIGHT 1889 BY W. H H MURRAY. 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 I. " I AM A BUSTED EX-TEXAN " 
 
 II. " PRACTICALLY INSIDE THE PAIL." 
 
 III. "AND WHEN I CAME DOWN." 
 
 IV. "LAY ABOARD OF THE OLD Cuss." 
 V. " LUFF HER UP LUFF HER UP." 
 
 VI. THE DEACON AND PARSON. 
 
 VII. THE RACE. 
 
 VIII. THE FIRST PRIZE FOR THE Wickedest Cow* 
 
 M181746 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 E were camped amid the foot 
 hills on the trail which led up 
 to the Kicking Horse Pass. 
 The sun had already passed 
 from sight, beyond the white summits above us, 
 and the shadow of the monstrous mountain range 
 darkened the prairie to the east, to the horizon s 
 rim. Our bivouac was made in a grove of 
 lofty firs, six or eight in number ; and a little 
 rivulet, trickling from the upper slopes, fell, 
 with soft, lapsing sound, within a few feet of 
 our camp-fire. We did not even pitch a tent, 
 for the sky was mild, and above us the mon 
 strous trees lifted their protecting canopy of 
 stems. The hammocks were swung for the 
 ladies, and each gentleman " preempted " the 
 claim that suited him best, by depositing his 
 
 5 
 
6 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 blanket and rifle upon it. The entire party 
 were in the best of spirits, and nature re 
 sponded to our happiness in its kindest mood. 
 Laughter sounded pleasantly at intervals from 
 the busy groups, each working at some self- 
 appointed industry. The hum of cheerful con 
 versation mingled with the murmurs of the 
 brook ; and now and then the snatch of some 
 sweet song would break from tuneful lips, 
 brief, spirited, melodious as a bobolink s, dash 
 ing upward from the clover-heads. And before 
 the mighty shadow lying gloomily on the great 
 prairie plain, which stretched eastward for a 
 thousand miles, had grown to darkness, the 
 active, happy workers had given to the bivouac 
 that look of designed orderliness which a 
 trained party always give to any spot they 
 select in which to make a camp or pass a 
 night. An hour before, there was nothing to 
 distinguish that grove of trees, or the ground 
 beneath them, from any other spot or hill within 
 the reach of eye. But now it commanded the 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 7 
 
 landscape ; and, had you been trailing over the 
 vast plain, the bright firelight, the group of 
 men and women moving to and fro, the pick 
 eted horses, the fluttering bits of color here 
 and there, would have caught your gaze ten 
 miles away ; and were you tired or hungry, 
 or even lonesome, you would have naturally 
 turned your horse s head toward that camp 
 as toward a cheerful reception and a home ; 
 for wherever is happy human life, to it all 
 lonely life is drawn as by a magnet. 
 
 And this was demonstrated by our experi 
 ence then and there. For, scarcely had we 
 done with supper, and by this time the gloom 
 had grown to darkness, and the half-light of 
 evening held the landscape, when out of the 
 semi-gloom there came a call, the call of a 
 man hailing a camp. Indeed, we were not sure 
 he had not hailed several times before we 
 heard him ; for, to tell the truth, we were a 
 very merry crowd, and as light of heart as if 
 there was not a worry or care in all the world, 
 
8 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 - at least for us, and the smallest spark of 
 a joke exploded us like a battery. Indeed, so 
 rollicking was our mood that our laughter was 
 nearly continuous, and it is quite possible that 
 the stranger may have hailed us more than 
 once without our hearing him. And this was 
 the more likely because the man s voice was 
 not of the loudest, nor was it positive in the 
 energy of its appeal. 
 
 Indeed, there was a certain feebleness or 
 timidity in the stranger s hail, as if he was 
 mistrustful that any good fortune could respond 
 to him, and, hence, deprecated the necessity 
 of the resort. But hear him we did at last, 
 and he was greeted with a chorus of voices 
 to " Come in ! Come in ! You re welcome ! " 
 And partly because we had finished our repast, 
 and partly from courtesy and the natural 
 promptings of gentlefolk to give a visitor 
 courteous greeting, we all arose and received 
 him standing. And, certainly, had the kindly 
 act been unusual with us, not one of our group 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 9 
 
 would have regretted the extra condescension 
 bestowed upon him at his coming, after he 
 had entered the circle of our firelight, and we 
 saw the expression of his features. 
 
 What a mirror the human face is ! Looking 
 into it, how we behold the soul, the accidents 
 that have befallen it and the disappointments 
 it has borne ! Are not the faces of men as 
 carved tablets on which we read the records of 
 their lives ? The face of childhood is smoothly 
 beautiful, like a white page on which neither 
 with ink of red or black has any pen drawn 
 character. But, as the years go on, the pen 
 begins to move and the fatal tracery to grow, 
 - that tracery which means and tells so much. 
 And the face of this man, this waif, so to 
 speak, this waif that had come to us from 
 the stretch of the prairie, whose southern line 
 is the southern gulf; this stranger, who had 
 come so suddenly to the circle of our light, and 
 so plaintively sought admission to its comfort 
 and its cheer, was a face which one might read 
 
IO THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 at a glance. Not one in our circle that did 
 not instantly feel that he embodied some over 
 whelming calamity. A look of sadness, of a 
 mild, continuous sorrow, overspread his face. 
 There was a pitiful expression about the mouth, 
 as if brave determination had withdrawn its 
 lines from it forever. From his eyes a certain 
 mistrustfulness looked forth, not mistrustful 
 ness of others, but of himself, as if confi 
 dence in his own powers had received an 
 overwhelming shock. The man s appearance 
 made an instant and unmistakable impression 
 upon the entire company. The ladies God 
 bless their sweet and sympathetic natures ! 
 were profoundly moved at the pitiful aspect 
 of our guest. Their bosoms thrilled with sym 
 pathy for one upon whose devoted head evil 
 fortune had so evidently emptied its quiver. 
 Nor were our less sensitive masculine natures 
 untouched by his forlorn appearance. 
 
 " A target for evil fortune," whispered Dick 
 to the major. 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. I I 
 
 " A regular bull s-eye ! " was the solemn 
 response. " A bull s-eye, by gad ! at the end 
 of the score." 
 
 It was not a poetic expression. I wish the 
 reader to note that I do not record it as such. 
 I only preserve it as evidence of the major s 
 humanity, and of the unaffected sympathy for 
 the stranger, which at that moment filled all 
 hearts. 
 
 Naturally, as it can well be imagined, the 
 gayety of our company had been utterly checked 
 by the coming of our sad guest. In the pres 
 ence of such a wreck of human happiness, 
 perhaps of human hope, what person of any 
 sensibility could maintain a lightsome mood ? 
 Had it not been for one peculiarity, a pecul 
 iarity, I am confident, all of us observed, the 
 depression of our spirits would have been as 
 profound as it was universal. This peculiarity 
 was the stranger s appetite. This, fortunately, 
 had remained unimpaired, an oasis in the 
 Sahara of his life. 
 
12 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 4 The one remnant left him from the wreck 
 of his fortunes," whispered Dick. 
 
 " A perfect remnant ! " returned the major, 
 sententiously. 
 
 For myself, acting as host to this appetite, 
 and being naturally of a philosophic turn, I 
 watched its development with the keenest in 
 terest, not to say with a growing curiosity. 
 14 Here is something," I said to myself, 
 " that is unique. That fine law of recompense 
 which is kindly distributed through the uni 
 verse finds here," I reflected, . a most instruc 
 tive and conclusive demonstration. Robbed, by 
 an adverse fate, of all that made life agreeable, 
 this man, this pilgrim of time, this wayfarer to 
 eternity, this companion of mine on the road 
 of life, has had bestowed upon him an extraor 
 dinary solace, has been permitted to retain a 
 commensurate satisfaction. Surely, life cannot 
 have lost its attractions for one whose stomach 
 still preserves such aspirations." And, prompted 
 by the benevolence of my mood, and the antici- 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 13 
 
 pations of a wise forecast, I collected in front 
 of me whatever edibles remained on the table, 
 that, if the supply of our hospitality should 
 prove insufficient, the exhibition of its spirit 
 should at least be conclusive. 
 
 But, if the countenance of the stranger was of 
 a most melancholy cast, there were not lacking- 
 hints that by nature he had been endowed with 
 vivacity of spirit ; for, as he continued, with an 
 industry which was remarkable, to refresh him 
 self, there were appearances, which came to 
 the eye and the corners of his mouth, which 
 made the observer conclude that he was not 
 lacking the sense of humor ; and, if his experi 
 ence had been most unfortunate, there was in 
 him an ability to appreciate the ludicrousness 
 of its changeful situations. Indeed, one could 
 but conclude that originally he must have been 
 of a buoyant, not to say sanguine disposition ; 
 and, if one could but prevail upon him to nar 
 rate the incidents of his life, they would be 
 found to be most entertaining. 
 
14 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 It was something like an hour before our 
 melancholy-looking guest had fully improved 
 the opportunity with which a benignant Provi 
 dence had supplied him, a freak in which, 
 one might conclude, she seldom indulged. He 
 ceased to eat, and sat for a moment gazing 
 pensively at the dishes. It seemed to me 
 but in this I may possibly be mistaken that 
 a darker shade of sadness possessed his face at 
 the conclusion than the one that shadowed it 
 so heavily at the beginning of the repast. 
 "The pleasures of hope," I said to myself, " are 
 evidently greater to my species than are those 
 of recollection. Now that there is nothing left 
 for my guest to anticipate, it is evident that 
 memory ceases to excite." And I could but 
 feel that, had our provisions been more abun 
 dant, the stranger s appetite would not have 
 been so easily appeased. With something of 
 regret in my voice, I sought to divert his mind 
 from that sense of disappointment which I 
 judged from his countenance threatened to 
 oppress his spirits. 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 15 
 
 " Friend," I said, " I doubt not that you have 
 trailed a goodly distance, and your fasting" has 
 been long ? " 
 
 44 I have not eaten a meal in two days," was 
 the response. 
 
 44 Heavens ! " exclahned Dick in an aside to 
 the major. "Is it credible that that man ate 
 two days ago ! " 
 
 44 Gad ! " exclaimed the major, " the man s 
 stomach is nothing but a pocket." 
 
 44 A pocket! I should call it an unexplored 
 cavern ! " retorted Dick. 
 
 44 The direction and reason of your long trail 
 would be interesting," I resumed. 44 And, if 
 not impertinent, friend, may I ask you whence 
 you have come ? " 
 
 " I have journeyed from Texas," replied the 
 man, and his voice nearly broke as he said it. 
 
 44 (9^7 " exclaimed the ladies, and they sym 
 pathetically grouped themselves, anticipating, 
 with true feminine sensitiveness, some terrible 
 denouement. 
 
1 6 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 " Texas /"I ejaculated. 
 
 "Gad!" said the major. 
 
 "The Devil! " said Dick. 
 
 "Yes, Texas!" repeated the man, and he 
 groaned. 
 
 By this time, as any intelligent reader will 
 easily divine, our whole group was in a condi 
 tion of mild excitement. Several of us had 
 resided in Texas, and we felt that we stood at 
 the threshold of a history, a history with 
 infinite possibilities in it. For myself, I knew 
 not how to proceed. My position as a host 
 forbade me to interrogate. The sorrows of life 
 are sacred, and my sensitiveness withheld me 
 from thrusting myself within the enclosure of 
 my guest s recollections. That his experiences, 
 could we but be favored with a narration of 
 them, would be entertaining, painfully enter 
 taining, I keenly realized ; but how to pro 
 ceed I saw not. I remained silent. 
 
 "Yes," it was the stranger who broke the 
 silence, " I am a busted ex-Texan ! " 
 
^v C W^ 
 
 ^v 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. I/ 
 
 The relief that came to me at the instant was 
 indescribable. The path was made plain. We 
 all felt that we were not only on the threshold 
 of a history, but of a narration of that history. 
 The ladies fluttered into position for listening". 
 I could but see it, and so I am bound to record 
 that I saw Dick irreverently punch the major. 
 It was a punch which carried with it the signifi 
 cance of an exclamation. The major received 
 it with the face of a Spartan, but with the grunt 
 of a Chinook chief. 
 
 "Friend," I said, "we are accustomed to 
 beguile the evening hours with entertaining de 
 scriptions of travels, often of personal incidents 
 of the haps and hazards of life ; and, if it would 
 not be disagreeable to you, we would be vastly 
 entertained, beyond doubt, by any narration 
 with which you might favor us of your Texan 
 experiences and of the fortunes which befell 
 you there." 
 
 For a few moments, the silence remained 
 unbroken, save by the crackle of the fire and 
 
I 8 THE BUSTED EX- TEXAN. 
 
 the soft movement in the great firs overhead, 
 a movement which is to sound what dawn is to 
 the day ; not so much a sound as a feathery 
 siiLTo-estion that sound might come. It was a 
 genial hour, and the mood of the hour began 
 to be felt in our own. The warmth of it evi 
 dently penetrated the bosom of our guest. He 
 had eaten. He was filled, appreciably so at 
 least, and that happy feeling, that comfortable 
 sense of fulness, which characterizes the after- 
 dinner hour, pervaded him with its genial glow. 
 He loosened his belt, another tremendous 
 nudge from Dick, and a look of contentment 
 softened his features. Whatever storm had 
 wrecked his life, he had now passed beyond its 
 billows, and from the sure haven into which he 
 had been blown he could gaze with complacent 
 resignation, if not with happiness, at the dan 
 gers through which he had passed. I am sure 
 that we were all delighted at the brightening 
 appearance of our guest, and felt that, if the 
 story he was to tell us was one which included 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN, 19 
 
 disasters, it would at least be lightened by 
 traces of humor and the calm acceptance of a 
 philosophic mind. 
 
 " I was born in the State of Connecticut," 
 so our guest began his narration. 4< I came 
 from a venturesome stock, and the instinct of 
 commercial enterprise may be regarded as 
 hereditary in my family. My grandfather was 
 the first one to discover the tropical attributes 
 of the beech-wood tree. He first perceived 
 that it contained within its fibres the pungency 
 of the nutmeg. With a celerity which we re 
 member with pride in our family, he availed 
 himself of the commercial value of his dis 
 covery, and for years did a prosperous trade on 
 the credulity of mankind. He was a man of 
 humor, a sense which has been to some 
 extent transmitted to myself, he was a man 
 of humor, and I have no doubt he enjoyed the 
 joke he was practising on people, fully as much 
 as the profits which the practical embodiment 
 of his humor brought to his pocket. My father 
 
2O THE 3USTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 was a deacon, a man of true piety and eminently 
 respectable. He was engaged in the retail- 
 grocery business, a business which offers 
 opportunities to a person of wit and of an 
 inventive turn of mind. The butter that he 
 sold was salted invariably by one rule a rule 
 which he discovered and applied in the cellar 
 of the store himself; and the sugar which he 
 sold, if it was sanded, was always sanded by a 
 method which improved rather than detracted 
 from its appearance." 
 
 Here our guest paused a moment, as if 
 enjoying the recollections of the virtues of his 
 ancestors. His face was as sober as ever, but 
 his look was one of contentment ; and I could 
 but note the suggestion of merriment the 
 merriment of a happy memory in his eye. 
 How happy it is for an offspring to be able to 
 recall the character of his forefathers with such 
 liveliness of mind ! 
 
 "The motive which impelled me towards 
 Texas," he resumed, "was one which was 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 2 I 
 
 natural for me to feel, thus ancestrally con 
 nected. I had heired my father s business, - 
 the deacon, who had died full of honors, ripe in 
 years, and in perfect peace. But the business 
 did not prosper in my hands ; perhaps, I had 
 not heired, with the business, the deacon s 
 ability, that accuracy of eye, that gravity of 
 appearance, that deftness of touch, so to speak, 
 which underlay his success. Be that as it may, 
 the business did not pay, and without hesita 
 tion I sold it ; and, with a comfortable sum for 
 investment, I journeyed to Texas. 
 
 "It is proper for me to remark that the 
 welcome I received was most cordial. I chose 
 a populous centre for a temporary residence, 
 and proceeded to look around me. I found the 
 Texans to be a warm-hearted people, much 
 given to hospitality, and willing, with a charm 
 ing disinterestedness, to admit all new-comers, 
 with capital, to the enormous profits of their 
 various enterprises. 
 
 " For the first time in my life, I found myself 
 
22 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 among a people who were successful in every 
 thing they undertook. Their profits were 
 simply enormous. No speculation could possi 
 bly fail. However I invested my money, I was 
 assured that I would speedily become a million- 
 naire. Cotton was a certain crop. Corn was 
 never known to fail. The Texan tobacco was 
 rapidly driving the Cuban out of the market. 
 The aboriginal grapes of the State, of which 
 there were millions of acres waiting for the 
 presses, yielded, as Europe confessed, a wine 
 superior to Champagne. If I preferred herd 
 ing, all I had to do was to purchase a few sheep 
 and simply sit down. There was no section of 
 the globe where sheep were so prolific, fleeces 
 so thick, or the demands of market so clamor 
 ous. And, as for horses, I was assured that no 
 one in Texas who knew the facts of the case 
 would spend any time in raising them. The 
 prairies were full of them, hundreds of thou 
 sands of them, all blooded stock, true descend 
 ants, sir, from the Moorish Barb, distributed 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 23 
 
 through the whole country at the Spanish 
 invasion. I need do nothing but purchase fifty 
 thousand acres, fence the territory in, and the 
 enclosed herds would continue to propagate 
 indefinitely. Such were the delightful pict 
 ures which my entertainers presented to me. 
 Captivated by the charming manners of my 
 hosts, my sanguine temperament kindled into 
 heat at the touch of their enthusiasm. Where 
 every venture was sure of successful issue, there 
 was no need for deliberation or selection. I 
 invested indiscriminately in all, and waited 
 buoyantly for the results." 
 
 Here the stranger paused, compelled, per 
 haps, by a slight interruption. Dick had re 
 tired, closely followed by the major. Our guest 
 certainly was not devoid of humor, and I was 
 convinced, as I watched the play of his features, 
 that he apprehended and appreciated the reason 
 for their retirement. He lifted a plate from the 
 table, inspected it closely, turned it over, gazed 
 contemplatively at its reversed side, and, pojs- 
 
24 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 ing it deftly upon the point of three fingers, 
 quietly remarked : - 
 
 "The gentlemen, I judge, have been in 
 Texas ? " 
 
 " They have," I replied : " we three were there 
 together." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 It was all he said. I might add, it was all 
 that could be said. 
 
 At this point, Dick and the major rejoined us. 
 Their eyes showed traces of recent tears. They 
 were still wiping their faces with their handker 
 chiefs. With that refinement which is charac 
 teristic of true gentlemen, and which seeks 
 concealment of any extraordinary emotion, they 
 had considerately retired to indulge their 
 laughter. 
 
 " I am delighted," continued our guest, after 
 Dick and the major had resumed their seats, " I 
 am delighted to find myself in company with 
 men of experience. I feel that you will not 
 question the veracity of my story, or fail to 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 25 
 
 appreciate the outcome of my enterprises. At 
 the end of two years, my property was distrib 
 uted promiscuously throughout the State, and I 
 was reduced to the necessity of making one 
 final venture to recoup myself for the losses 
 which, to the astonishment of the entire Texan 
 community, I assured them I had met. I was 
 the only man, as they asserted, that had ever 
 failed to make a magnificent success in Texas. 
 
 14 You can readily conceive, gentlemen, that I 
 was determined to make no mistake in my final 
 venture. There were other reasons, beside the 
 one of caution, which persuaded me to begin 
 with a moderate investment ; so 1 bought one 
 cow. It was impossible for me to make a mis 
 take from such a beginning. Every person in 
 Texas that had rapidly risen to financial emi 
 nence had started with one cow. Many a time 
 had a Texan ranchman swept his hand with 
 a royal gesture over a landscape of flowers and 
 Mesquite brush, dotted with thousands of cattle 
 and exclaimed, 4 Stranger, I started this yer 
 
26 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 ranch with one cow. And then he would take 
 out a piece of chalk and figure out to me on his 
 saddle how that one cow had multiplied herself 
 into seven thousand five hundred and twenty- 
 three other cows, which had proceeded to 
 promptly multiply themselves, < regular as the 
 seasons come round, sir, in the same reckless 
 manner, until it was evident that the number of 
 her progeny was actually curtailed by the size 
 of the saddle and the lack of chalk. Now, I 
 was eager to possess a cow with such a multipli 
 cation-table attachment, and, being unable to 
 wait even ten years before I could tingle with 
 the sensation of being a millionnaire ranchman, 
 I decided to shorten the probationary stage by 
 half, and so I purchased two cows." 
 
 At this point, Dick rolled over upon the 
 grass, and the major was doubled up as with 
 sudden pain. As for myself, I confess I could 
 not restrain my emotions. I had been through 
 the same experience as had fallen to my guest, 
 and I appreciated the sanguine characteristics 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 2J 
 
 of his temperament, which prompted him to the 
 investment, and the humor of the situation. I 
 laughed till my eyes flowed with tears, and the 
 stillness of the foot-hills resounded with the 
 unrestrained merriment of the entire camp. 
 
 The humor of our guest was truly American, 
 the humor of suggestive restraint and exaggera 
 tion both. He narrated his experiences, which 
 had resulted in the loss of his fortune and the 
 collapse of his hopes, with a face like a deacon s, 
 and with a quaint and most charming sense of 
 the ludicrousness of the position a position 
 of which he himself was the cause and central 
 object. He fairly represented that type of men 
 who combine in their composition that which is 
 most practical and imaginative alike ; whose 
 energy can subdue a continent, and whose 
 boastfulness would awaken contempt if it were 
 not palliated by the magnitude of their achieve 
 ments. A humor that is often barbed, but 
 which is most willingly directed against one s 
 self ; but, whether directed against the humorist 
 
28 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 or his neighbor, carries no poison upon its 
 point and leaves no wound to rankle. 
 
 " My financial condition," said our guest, 
 resuming, " my financial condition at the time 
 I made this final investment contributed to the 
 hopefulness of my mood, and made me feel the 
 excitement of a reckless speculation, for, though 
 my two cows only cost me seventeen dollars 
 and fifty cents each, nevertheless, when the 
 purchase was concluded, and the goods de 
 livered, and I had made a careful inventory of 
 my remaining assets, a business proceeding 
 which the average Texan found it necessary to 
 go through about once in two weeks, in order 
 that he might know what his financial standing 
 was, or whether he had any standing at all, 
 when, I say, the purchase was consummated, 
 and an inventory of my remaining assets made, 
 I discovered that the two cows had swallowed 
 up nearly my entire estate, and that a few 
 dollars of farther expenditure would plunge me 
 into bottomless insolvency. I must confess that 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 29 
 
 this disclosure of my financial condition added 
 zest to the undertaking, and filled me with that 
 fine excitement which accompanies a desperate 
 speculation. I have always felt that another 
 cow would have made a financier of me, and 
 that I could have taken my place among my 
 brethren in Wall Street without a tremor of the 
 muscles or the least sense of inferiority. 
 
 "The cows were both black in color; so 
 black that they would make a spot in the dark 
 ness of the blackest night that ever gloomed 
 under the cypresses of the Guadaloupe. * If 
 those cows, I said to myself as I looked them 
 over, * if those cows ever do bring forth calves 
 at the rate that the Texan of whom I purchased 
 them figured out on his saddle, they ll put the 
 whole State under an eclipse. 
 
 " I cannot say, speaking with that restraint 
 which I have always cultivated, I cannot say, 
 ladies and gentlemen, that I regarded either 
 cow. with any great affection. There were 
 peculiarities about them, which checked the 
 
30 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 outgoing of my emotional nature. They had a 
 way of looking at me through the wire fence, 
 that made me feel grateful to the inventor of 
 barbed wire. I cannot describe the look 
 exactly. It was a direct, earnest, steady, intense 
 inspection of my person, that made me feel out 
 of place, as it were, and caused me to remember 
 that I had duties at home, which required me 
 to get there as rapidly as possible. 
 
 " One morning, seeing that the basis of my 
 speculation was near the centre of the field, 
 and busily feeding on the bountiful growths of 
 nature, I crept softly through the wires of the 
 fence that I might gather some pecan nuts 
 under a big tree that stood some twenty rods 
 away. I reached the tree in safety, and pro 
 ceeded to pick up the nuts. I had filled one 
 pocket only when I heard a noise behind me, 
 and, looking up, I saw that all the profits of my 
 stock speculation, and all my stock itself, were 
 coming toward me on a jump. I was never 
 more collected in my life. My mind instantly 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 31 
 
 reached the conclusion that the pecan crop that 
 year was so large in Texas that it would not 
 pay to pick up another nut under that tree ; that 
 the whole thing should stand over, as it were, 
 until another fall, and that, the sooner I retired 
 from that field, the better it would be for me 
 and the few pecans I had about me. 
 
 "Acting in harmony with this conclusion, - 
 which to my mind carried with it the force of a 
 demonstration,--! started for the wire fence. 
 I have no doubt but that the line of my move 
 ment was absolutely straight. I assure you, 
 gentlemen, that if cows had multiplied in my 
 business connection as rapidly as they did in my 
 imagination during the next sixty seconds of 
 time, I should have been in Texas to this day. 
 The whole field was actually alive with cows. I 
 reached the fence just one jump ahead of the 
 oldest cow, and, seeing no reason why I should 
 take time to crawl through between the wires, 
 I lifted myself over the airy obstruction in a 
 manner that must have convinced that old 
 
32 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 animated bit of blackness that I had absolute 
 ownership in every nut about me. This little 
 episode supplied me with material for reflection 
 for at least a week, and made me realize that any 
 northern man that enters into a speculation 
 with Texas cows as a basis must keep his eyes 
 open, and not allow his thoughts to be diverted 
 by any side issues, like pecan nuts, while the 
 business is developing. 
 
 "The sixth morning after my speculation had 
 arrived at the ranch, my profits began to roll in 
 upon me, or, to state it more practically, and 
 in a business-like manner, the oldest cow pro 
 duced a calf. This raised my spirits, and made 
 me feel that my business was fairly started. I 
 went to my stock-book and promptly made an 
 entry as follows: 7523-1. This meant that 
 there were only seven thousand five hundred and 
 twenty-totf yet to realize on ; that is, if seven 
 thousand five hundred and twenty-two calves 
 should promptly come to time, seeing that one 
 calf had already actually come to time, my herd 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 33 
 
 would be complete. I think, gentlemen, you 
 can readily understand my feelings as I stood 
 contemplating the first fruition of my hopes 
 from behind a tree. The cow was securely tied, 
 but still from habit I took my usual position 
 when inspecting my stock. My mood was very 
 hopeful. I felt as every Texan felt, in those 
 days, when by some accident he found himself 
 in possession of actual property. There is a 
 calf, I said ; I ve only had to wait six days for 
 that calf to materialize. Suppose another calf 
 should materialize in six days. I extracted a 
 pencil from my pocket and began to figure. I 
 multiplied that calf by six I mean that at the 
 end of six days I multiplied that calf by 
 another calf. Every time I put down a new 
 multiplier I took a look at the calf, and every 
 time I looked at the calf it multiplied itself, as 
 it were, until I felt the full force of the Texan s 
 statement, save that, the more I multiplied, the 
 more I felt that seven thousand five hundred 
 and twenty-three did not fairly represent the 
 
34 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 certainties of the speculation. That cow would 
 surely make a millionnaire of me yet if 
 nothing happened. 
 
 " But, gentleman, something did happen, and 
 it happened in this wise : You have doubtless, 
 by this, concluded that the cow was a wild cow. 
 The man who sold her to me had not put it 
 precisely that way. He had represented her to 
 me as a cow of mild manners, thoroughly 
 domesticated, of the sweetest possible temper, 
 used to the women folks, playful with children, 
 -in short, a creature of such amiability that she 
 actually longed to be petted. But I had already 
 discovered that her manners were somewhat 
 abrupt, and that either the man did not under 
 stand the nature of the cow or I did not un 
 derstand the man. I was convinced that, ii she 
 had ever been domesticated, it had been done 
 by some family every member of which had 
 died in the process, or had suddenly moved out 
 of the country only a short distance ahead of 
 her, and that she had utterly forgotten her early 
 
THE BUSTED EX -TEX AN. 
 
 35 
 
 training. Still, I had no doubt but that her 
 amiability was there, although temporarily some 
 what latent, and that the influences of a gentle 
 spirit would revive the dormant sensibilities of 
 her nature. The sight of a milk-pail, I said 
 to myself, will surely awaken the reminiscences 
 of her early days, and of that sweet home-life 
 which was hers when she yielded at morn and 
 at night her glad contribution to the nourish 
 ment of a Christian family. 
 
 There was on my ranch a servitor of foreign 
 extraction who did my cooking for what he 
 could eat, Chin Foo by name, and to him 
 I called to bring me the large tin pail, which 
 served the household which, like most Texan 
 households in the Tertiary period, so to speak, 
 of their fortunes, was conducted on economic 
 principles as a washtub, a chip-basket, a 
 water-bucket, and a dinner-gong. It also 
 occurred to me, as I stood looking at the cow. 
 and rn ught the spirit of her expression, so to 
 speak, that, as she had come to stay, was a 
 
36 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 permanent fixture of the establishment, as it 
 were, Chin Foo might as well do the milking 
 first as last. Moreover, as the Texan from 
 whom I purchased her had assured me that she 
 was a kind of household pet, the children s 
 friend, and took to women folks naturally, the 
 case was a very clear one. For, as Chin Foo 
 had long hair, wore no hat, and dressed in 
 flowing drapery, the cow, unless she was more 
 of a physiologist than I gave her credit for, 
 would be in doubt somewhat as to the sex of 
 the Chinaman ; and before she had time to 
 ruminate upon it and reach a dead-sure conclu 
 sion, the milking would be over ; and I would 
 have scored the first point in the game, if she 
 was a cow of ability, had any trumps, and was 
 up to any tricks, as it were. So I told Chin 
 Foo, as he approached with the pail in his 
 hand, that the cow was a splendid milker, 
 thoroughly domesticated, accustomed to China 
 men, and that he might have the honor of 
 milking her first. I remarked, furthermore, that, 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 37 
 
 as everything about the place was new to her, 
 and she was a little nervous, I would gently 
 attract her attention in front, while he pro 
 ceeded to extract the delicious fluid. I charged 
 him, in addition, to remember that it was always 
 the best policy to approach a cow of her tem 
 perament in a bold and indifferent manner, as 
 if he had milked her all his life, and get down 
 to business at once ; and that any hesitation or 
 show of nervousness on his part would tend to 
 make her more nervous. 
 
 " I must say that Chin Foo acted in a highly 
 creditable manner, considering he was in a 
 strange land, and, to my certain knowledge, had 
 no money laid by for funeral expenses ; for, 
 while I was stirring the dust and flourishing my 
 stick in a desultory manner in front of the cow, 
 to divert her mind, and keep her thoughts from 
 wandering backward too directly, he fluttered 
 boldly up to her, and laid firmly hold of two 
 teats, with the familiarity of an old acquaint 
 ance." 
 
30 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 At this point of his narration the stranger 
 paused a moment. There was a sort of plain 
 tive look on his face, and he gazed at the plates 
 with an expression in his eyes of sorrowful 
 recollection. 
 
 " I cannot say," he resumed, as one who 
 speaks oppressed with a sense of uncertainty, 
 " exactly what did happen, for I never saw the 
 Chinaman again until he alighted. I only 
 know that when he came down he was practi 
 cally inside the pail, and that he sat in it a 
 moment with a kind of dreamy eastern look 
 on his face, as if he lived on the isle of 
 Patmos and had seen a vision. And when he 
 had crawled out of the pail he went directly 
 into the house, saying, The Melican man is 
 dam foolee to try to milkee that cussee ! or 
 words to that effect. 
 
 " But I did not agree with him. I reflected 
 that the Chinese are only an imitative race, and 
 wholly lacking in original perception. They 
 never invent anything/ I said ; * never study 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 39 
 
 into causes, never get down to principles, as it 
 were. It requires a purely occidental intellect 
 to master the problem before me. This cow 
 has a strong disinclination to be milked. Why? 
 What is the motive of her conduct ? If I could 
 only answer that ! All at once it came to me, 
 -came like a flash. The reason was plain. 
 * This cow is a mother. The maternal instinct 
 in her case is beautifully developed. Her rea 
 soning faculties less so. She has a calf. To 
 her mind, we are trying to rob her beloved 
 offspring of its nourishment. She naturally 
 resents this injustice on our part. Beautiful 
 development of maternity/ I apostrophized, 
 as I looked at the cow in the light of this 
 new revelation. Thy instincts are those that 
 sweeten the world, and remind us of the 
 benignity that planned the universe. I will 
 bring thy calf to thee. I will show thee that I 
 am not devoid of the spirit of equity; that 
 I am ready to go shares and play fair, as it 
 were. Thy calf shall take one side of thee. I 
 
40 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 will take the other, and thy soul will come forth 
 to me in gratitude ! 
 
 " I was delighted. I went directly to the pen, 
 and gazed benevolently at the calf. The little 
 imp was blacker, if possible, than its mother. 
 There was that same peculiar look also in its 
 eyes. l You re all hers ! I joyfully cried, you 
 are your mother s own child ! I seized hold of 
 the neck-rope. I opened the pen-door and I 
 went out through that door quicker than a 
 vagrant cat ever got round a corner of a house 
 where a Scotch terrier boards. The calf went 
 under the cow and I struck her, head on. But I 
 had come to stay. I grabbed the pail with one 
 hand and a teat with the other. I tugged it, 
 pulled it, twisted it. Not a drop could I start. 
 A suction pump of twenty horse-power would 
 have found it drier than Sahara, and all the 
 while the calf s mouth, on the other side, was 
 actually running over with milk ! In two min 
 utes he looked like a black watermelon. Then 
 the cow, with a kind of back action, suddenly 
 
. 
 
 AND WHEN I CAME DOWN." 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 41 
 
 reached out one foot, and when I came to I 
 found myself facing a mulberry tree, with one 
 leg on each side of it. 
 
 " By this time I had reached a decision, and I 
 had the courage of my convictions. I felt it to 
 be my duty to milk that cow. I reminded her 
 in plain, straightforward language that I was the 
 son of a deacon, and that she d find it out 
 before she got through with me. I assured her 
 that I understood the beauty of righteousness, 
 and that I held a strong hand a straight flush, 
 as it were. I was well aware that the metaphor 
 was somewhat mixed ; but it expressed my sen 
 timents and relieved my feelings, and so I fired 
 it at her point-blank. She snorted and pawed 
 and bellowed, and swore at me in cow-language, 
 but I didn t care for that. So I shook the old, 
 battered milk-pail in her face, and told her I 
 was born in Connecticut, and did business on 
 spot-cash principle ; and that she would know 
 more of the commandments than any cow of 
 her color in Texas, before we said our long 
 farewell. 
 
42 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 " By this time the matter had attracted a good 
 deal of attention, for I had carried on my con 
 versation with the cow in the voice of a trage 
 dian when the chief villain of the play has 
 stolen his girl, and my next neighbor, an old 
 sea-captain from Mattagorda Bay, and his hired 
 men had come over to assist me. They were 
 of the nature of a reenforcement, which con 
 sisted of the captain, a Mexican, a Michigan 
 man that stuttered, and two negroes Napoleon 
 Bonaparte de Neville Smith, and George 
 Washington Marlborough Johnsing, by name. 
 Hence we were six in all, and I decided to take 
 the offensive at once. The captain was 
 advanced in years and rheumatic, but a clear 
 headed man, used to command, and had 
 4 boarded, as he expressed it, several of the 
 -crafts in his own waters. So I put him in 
 charge of the marines, namely, ourselves, and 
 told him to fight the ship for all she was worth. 
 He caught on to the thing at once, and swore 
 he would sweep the old black hulk fore and 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 43 
 
 aft, and send every mother s son to the bottom, 
 or make her strike her colors. The vigor of 
 the gallant old gentleman s language, and the 
 noble manner in which he shook his cane at the 
 old pirate, put us all in good spirits, and I verily 
 believe that, if he had at that fortunate 
 moment given the word 4 board ! we would, 
 niggers and all, have gone over the bulwarks of 
 that old cow with a rush. 
 
 "The captain s plan of action was proof of his 
 courage, and in harmony with my own ideas of 
 the matter. He said that our force was ample, 
 every gun shotted, and the ports open ; that 
 we had the windward gauge of her, and that 
 the proper course was to send a boat in to cut 
 her cable, and, when she drifted down with the 
 current, we would ware ship, lay up alongside, 
 grapple, pass lashings aboard, and send the 
 whole crew on to her deck with a rush. 
 Assaulted in such a man-of-war style, he was 
 confident she would become confused, be 
 intimidated, and strike her colors without firing 
 
44 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 a gun. The brave and sonorous language with 
 which our commander set forth his plan of 
 assault captured our imaginations, and we all 
 longed for the moment when the word of 
 command should permit us to swarm up the 
 sides and over the rail of the old bovine. 
 
 " Not only was the general plan thus agreed 
 upon, but each man had his post of duty 
 assigned to him. When the cable was cut/ 
 that is, when the cow should find herself at 
 liberty and bolt, as she would be sure to do, the 
 Mexican was to lasso her and hang on ; 
 Napoleon Bonaparte de Neville and George 
 Washington Marlborough were to lay hold of 
 her horns to port and starboard, as the captain 
 insisted, while the Michigan man who was 
 over six feet tall, and leggy was to fasten 
 with a good grip on to her tail, that he might 
 serve not only as a drag, as our commander 
 phrased it, but as a pilot as well, if she should 
 get to yawing or be suddenly taken aback, and 
 be unable to come up into the wind promptly, 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 45 
 
 while I was held in reserve to guard against 
 emergencies. I did not quite like the position 
 assigned to me, and so intimated to the captain, 
 but he said no one could tell how it might go 
 when we once got out of the harbor, and, if any 
 of the braces should part, or the sea get high, 
 that he would have to send an additional man 
 to the wheel, for, he added, in a whisper, * God 
 knows, that long-legged Michigan land-lubber 
 could never keep her to a straight course if she 
 should once get running with the wind over her 
 quarter, and everything drawing, through that 
 cornfield. I saw the force of his reasoning, 
 and felt easier. 
 
 44 So, without farther delay, we went into 
 action. The old captain stood, knife in hand, 
 ready to cut the lariat whn ch held the cow to 
 the tree, but, before he did so, he hailed, 4 All 
 ready to cut cables! 
 
 44 4 Fo de lawd, cap in ! yelled Napoleon de 
 Neville, 4 what is dis yere nigger gwine to do 
 if de udder nigger lets go ? 
 
46 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 " Go way dar, nigger ! retorted George 
 Washington Marlborough ; what you takes 
 dis nigger for if you tinks I s gwine to let go 
 dis ole black cow ? 
 
 " I ll give a silver dollar to the nigger that 
 holds on the longest, I yelled. 
 
 44 Well answered, mate, sang out the old 
 captain. All ready to cut cables. Cut she 
 
 is! 
 
 "The cow gave a bellow like the roar of a 
 lion, and made a rush with lowered horns at the 
 captain. Now, this was not the course laid 
 down on his chart for her to take ; and he and 
 the rest of us were struck all aback, as he after 
 wards expressed it ; but he met the emergency 
 with spirit. He broke his big, Spanish-oak 
 stick on the nose of the brute, and then the old 
 mariner rolled in the dust. 
 
 4 Lay aboard of her, men ! shouted the old 
 hero, in a voice like a fog-horn, flourishing 
 the fragments of his stick. Lay aboard of 
 the old cuss, I say! Cast your grapplings, 
 

 LAY ABOARD OF THE OLD C 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 47 
 
 Greaser ! Seize her helm, some of ye, and 
 throw it hard over to port ! 
 
 "These orders were obeyed with alacrity. 
 Not a man flinched. The loop of the lasso 
 settled over the polished horns to the roots, 
 and Don Juan San Diego set it tight with a 
 twang. Napoleon Bonaparte and George 
 Washington rushed headlong upon her and 
 hung to horns and ears ; while the man from 
 Michigan fastened a grip on her lifted tail, as 
 she tore past him, which straightened him out 
 like a lathe. As to myself, I could only stand 
 and gaze with solicitude upon the terrific con 
 test, on the issue of which depended not only 
 the chances of my speculation, but even the 
 preservation of my self-esteem. 
 
 " The combat deepened and enlarged itself, as 
 it were. A bull-dog, who was wandering along 
 the road in search of adventure, and two fox 
 hounds joined in the fight. The calf, the only 
 one of the seven thousand five hundred and 
 twenty- three I was ever destined to behold, 
 
48 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 broke from its pen and ran bellowing to its 
 mother. The dogs bayed, the niggers yelled, 
 the Mexican swore in his delightful tongue ; 
 and the stuttering Michigander remained silent, 
 simply from his inability to pronounce the pro 
 fanity of his feelings. 
 
 " Suddenly the cow, which had been slowly 
 working her way, with her several attachments 
 clinging to her, toward the road which ran 
 along the front of the field, turned and started 
 pell-mell toward the river, which flowed wide 
 and deep, through the rushes, at the rear of it. 
 She left the path and took to the corn, and 
 through the mass of growing stalks she swept 
 like a whirlwind. Onward she came. I antici 
 pated the awful catastrophe, and stood riveted 
 to the spot. The old captain still sat in the 
 gravel, where the cow had bowled him, his hand 
 grasping the shattered cane, and his game leg 
 extended. He too foresaw the inevitable. 
 Through the corn came the cow, like a black 
 Saturn attended by her satellites. But her 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 49 
 
 career was too terrific for these to hold to their 
 connection. The laws of the universe forbade 
 it. Napoleon Bonaparte de Neville lost his 
 hold as she crashed into the sorghum patch. 
 George Washington Marlborough tripped over 
 an irrigation ditch, and soared away at a tan 
 gent, like a sputtering remnant of a burnt-out 
 world. Don Juan San Diego went the wrong 
 side of a mulberry tree, and the lasso parted 
 with a snap. He never stopped until his 
 momentum carried him through the slats of 
 the neighboring cow-pen. Only the long- 
 legged Michigander kept his hold, and he looked 
 like a pair of extended scissors. I stood aghast 
 at the impending ruin of my hopes, with my 
 lower jaw dropped. The captain alone re 
 tained his presence of mind. As the black 
 unit of my last Texan speculation shot by 
 him, with Michigan, elongated like a peninsula, 
 fastened to her tail, he rolled up to his knees 
 and roared : 
 
 44 Starboard your helm, boy! Luff her 
 
-O THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 up! Luff her up, for the love of God, or 
 the colonel is busted! 
 
 "It is doubtful if the Michigan man ever 
 heard the stentorian call of the captain, for 
 sound travels only thirteen hundred feet to the 
 second, and the cow was certainly going con 
 siderably faster than that ; and, besides, he was 
 himself engaged, with a terrific earnestness, in a 
 vain effort to extricate a word out of his throat, 
 which stuck like a wad in a smutty gun a 
 word of undoubted Saxon origin and of expres 
 sive force, and which has saved more blood 
 vessels from bursting than the lancet of the 
 phlebotomist, for as he streamed past there 
 was left floating upon the air a long string of 
 
 d s, thus : d d d d d d-d-d . . . ! 
 
 " No one who did not hear them could ever 
 conceive of the awful sputtering, hissing sound 
 that they caused in the atmosphere as they 
 came out of the mouth of the mad and stutter 
 ing Michigander ; and as he and the cow bored a 
 hole through the reeds on the bank of the 
 
"LUFF HER UP! LUFF HER UP! 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 51 
 
 river, and, hitting a cypress stump, ricochetted 
 into the water, that fiery string of d s, still hot 
 and sputtering, reached half across the field. 
 
 " The splash of the two as they struck the 
 water brought the old captain to his feet, and, in 
 spite of his rheumatic leg, he rushed toward the 
 river, crying: 
 
 " 4 Man overboard ! Man overboard I 
 Gone clean over the forechains! Life-floats to 
 port and starboard ! 
 
 "With such a frightful catastrophe, gentle 
 men, the remembrance of which actually makes 
 me nervous, my last speculation in Texas ended. 
 Going over the whole matter with the captain 
 that evening, a process which took us well 
 into the night, it was our united opinion that 
 the speculation was a failure. This conviction 
 was mutual and profound. The cow was not 
 only gone, but she had shown such disinclina 
 tion to be domesticated, and such a misappre 
 hension of the true purpose of life, that the 
 prospect was truly disheartening. 
 
52 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 
 
 " Why, damn it, colonel, said the captain, 
 * we ve no evidence that the old cow wanted to 
 be milked ! 
 
 "To this discouraging conclusion of the 
 captain s I was compelled to give a sorrowful 
 assent. I recognized that my speculation was 
 in arrears, as it were, and that it would never 
 figure up a profit. 
 
 " Therefore, next day I divided my few per 
 sonal effects between the captain and the noble 
 men who had risked their lives for an idea ; who 
 had seen the tragedy played out and the curtain 
 rung down to my last appearance, as it were. 
 And, with the few dollars which alone remained 
 of the fortune which I took with me to Texas, 
 I mounted my horse and started northward, to 
 join that noble army of martyrs, that brother 
 hood of sufferers, that fraternity of the busted, 
 whose members are legion, and who are known 
 as Ex- Tex an s! 
 
 The hilarity of the camp that evening under 
 the foot-hills will never be forgotten by those of 
 us who composed the happy number, and who 
 
THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN. 53 
 
 listened with streaming eyes and aching sides 
 to the narrative of our unfortunate guest. He 
 told his story with a directness and simplicity of 
 narrative, with a gravity of countenance and 
 plaintiveness of voice, which heightened the 
 humor of the substance. Never did the stars, 
 which have seen so much of human happiness, 
 which have listened to so much of the rollicking 
 humor of those who were fashioned for laughter, 
 looked down upon a jollier camp. Long after 
 our guest had ended his narrative and was 
 apparently sleeping in happy forgetfulness of 
 his Texas speculation, succeeding pauses of 
 silence would come roars of laughter. The 
 remembrance of the humorous tale banished 
 sleep, and, even after slumber had fallen on us 
 all, fun still held possession of our dreams. For 
 Dick, starting from sleep in a nightmare of 
 hilarity, roared out: "Luff her tip, luff her 
 up, or the colonel is busted /" 
 
 Ay, ay, thank God for laughter. Thank 
 him heartily and ever, dear friend, blow the 
 winds, run the tides as they may. The sorrows 
 
54 
 
 THE BUSTED EX-TEXAN 
 
 of life may be many, and its griefs may be 
 keen, and we who are frosted with years and 
 you who are blooming have felt and will feel the 
 sting of false friends and the burden of losses ; 
 but, lose what we may, or be pained as we have 
 been and shall be, we are happy in this, we 
 who know how to laugh, that we find wings for 
 each burden, solace for pains, and return for 
 all losses, in our sweet sense of humor, thank 
 Heaven ! So, whether rich men or poor, healthy 
 or sick, brown-headed or gray, we will go on 
 like children, with eyes for all beauty and hearts 
 for all fun. Let lilies teach us, and of the 
 birds of the air let us learn. The day that is 
 not shall not make us anxious, for of each day 
 is the evil enough, and the morrow shall take 
 care of itself. 
 
HOW DEACON TUBMAN 
 
 AND PARSON WHITNEY 
 CELEBRATED NEW YEARS. 
 
HOW DEACON TUBMAN AND PAR 
 SON WHITNEY CELEBRATED NEW 
 YEAR S. 
 
 MIRANDY, I m going up to see the par 
 son," exclaimed the deacon, when the 
 morning devotions were over, " and see if I 
 can thaw him out a little. I ve heard that there 
 used to be a lot in him in his younger days, but 
 he s sort of frozen all up latterly, and I can see 
 that the young folks are afraid of him and the 
 church too, but that won t do no, it won t do," 
 repeated the good man emphatically, " for the 
 minister ought to be loved by young and old, 
 rich and poor, and everybody ; and a church 
 without young folks in it is, why, it is like a 
 family with no children in it. Yes, I ll go up 
 and wish him a Happy New Year anyway. 
 
 55 
 
56 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 Perhaps I can get him out for a ride to make 
 some calls on the people, and see the young- 
 folks at their fun. It ll do him good, and them 
 good, and me good, and everybody good." 
 Saying which, the deacon got inside his warm 
 fur coat, and started toward the barn to harness 
 Jack into the worn; old-fashioned sleigh, which 
 sleigh was built high in the back, and had a 
 curved dasher of monstrous proportions, orna 
 mented with a prancing horse in an impossible 
 attitude, done in bright vermilion on a blue 
 background ! 
 
 " Happy New Year to you, Parson Whitney! 
 Happy New Year to you," cried the deacon, as 
 he stood in the doorway of the parsonage and 
 shook the parson by the hand enthusiastically, 
 " and may you live to enjoy a hundred." 
 
 " Come in, come in," cried Parson Whitney, 
 in response. " I m glad you ve come ; I m glad 
 you ve come. I ve been wanting to see you all 
 the morning," and in the cordiality of his greet 
 ing he literally pulled the little man through the 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 57 
 
 doorway into the hall, and hurried him up the 
 stairway to his study in the chamber overhead. 
 
 "Thinking of me! Well, now, I never!" 
 exclaimed the deacon, as, assisted by the parson, 
 he twisted and wriggled himself out of his coat, 
 that he filled a little too snugly for an easy exit. 
 " Thinking of me, and among all these books 
 too _ Bibles, catechisms, tracts, theologies, ser 
 mons. Well, well, that is funny. What made 
 you think of me ? " 
 
 " Deacon Tubman," responded the parson, as 
 he seated himself in his armchair, " I want to 
 talk with you about the church." 
 
 "The church!" ejaculated the deacon in 
 response. " Nothing going wrong, I hope ? " 
 
 " Yes, things are going wrong, deacon," re 
 sponded the parson. "The congregation is 
 growing smaller and smaller, and yet I preach 
 good, strong, biblical, soul-satisfying sermons, I 
 trust." 
 
 " Good ones ! good ones ! " answered the 
 deacon promptly, <k never better never better 
 in the world." 
 
58 DEACON TUB MAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 " And yet the people are deserting the sanc 
 tuary," rejoined the parson solemnly, " and the 
 young people won t come to the sociables, and 
 the little children seem actually afraid of me. 
 What shall I do, deacon ? " and the good man 
 put the question with pathetic emphasis. 
 
 il You ve hit the nail on the head, square as a 
 hatchet, parson," responded the deacon. "The 
 congregation is thinning. The young people 
 don t come to the meetings, and the little chil 
 dren are afraid of you." 
 
 "What s the matter, deacon?" cried the par 
 son in return. "What is it?" he repeated 
 earnestly. 4t Speak it right out ; don t try to 
 spare my feelings. I will listen to I will do 
 anything to win back my people s love," and 
 the strong, old-fashioned Calvinistic preacher 
 said it in a voice that actually trembled. 
 
 " You can do it you can do it in a week ! " 
 exclaimed the deacon encouragingly. " Don t 
 worry about it, parson ; it ll be all right, it ll be 
 all right. Your books are the trouble." 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 59 
 
 "Books?" ejaculated the parson. "What 
 have they to do with it ? " 
 
 " Everything," replied the deacon stoutly. 
 " You pore over them day in and day out ; they 
 keep you in this room here when you should be 
 out among the people, not making pastoral 
 vi s i ts? I don t mean that, but going around 
 among them, chatting and joking and having a 
 good time. They would like it, and you would 
 like it, and as for the young folks how old 
 are you, parson ? " 
 
 "Sixty next month," answered the parson; 
 " sixty next month," he repeated solemnly. 
 
 " Thirty ! thirty ! that s all you are, parson, or 
 all you ought to be," cried the deacon. " Thirty, 
 twenty, sixteen ! let the figures slide down 
 and up, according to circumstances, but never 
 let them go higher than thirty when you are 
 dealing with young folks. I m sixty myself, 
 counting years; but I m only sixteen, sixteen 
 this morning, that s all, parson,"* and he rubbed 
 his little round plump hands together, looked at 
 the parson, and winked. 
 
6O DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 " Bless my soul. Deacon Tubman, I don t 
 know but that you are right ! " answered the 
 parson. " Sixty? I don t know as I am sixty," 
 and he began to rub his own hands, and came 
 within an ace of executing a wink at the deacon, 
 himself. 
 
 " Not a day over twenty, if I am any judge 
 of age," responded the deacon deliberately, as 
 he looked the white-headed old minister over 
 with a most comic imitation of seriousness. 
 11 Not a day over twenty, on my honor," and 
 the deacon leaned forward toward the parson, 
 and gave him a punch with his thumb, as one 
 boy might deliver a punch at another, and then 
 he lay back in his chair and laughed so heartily 
 that the parson caught the infectious mirth and 
 roared away as heartily as himself. 
 
 Yes, it was impossible to sit hobnobbing with 
 the little, jolly deacon on that bright New Year s 
 morning and not be affected by the happiness 
 of his mood, for he was actually bubbling over 
 with fun, and as full of frolic as if the finger 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 6 1 
 
 on the dial had, in truth, gone back forty-odd 
 years, and he was " only sixteen. Only six 
 teen, parson, on my honor." 
 
 " But what can I do?" queried the good 
 man, sobering down. " I make my pastoral 
 visits." 
 
 " Pastoral visits ! " responded Deacon Tubman. 
 " Oh, yes, and they are all well enough for the 
 old folks, but they ar n t the kind of biscuit 
 the young folks like too heavy in the centre, 
 and over-hard in the crust for young teeth, eh, 
 parson ? " 
 
 14 But what shall I do ? what shall I do?" 
 reiterated the parson, somewhat despondently. 
 
 " Oh ! put on your hat, and gloves, and 
 warmest coat, and come along with me. We 
 will see what the young folks are doing, and 
 will make a day of it. Come ! come ! let the 
 old books, and catechisms, and sermons, and 
 tracts have a respite for once, and we ll spend 
 the day out-of-doors, with the boys and girls 
 and the people." 
 
62 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 " I ll do it ! " exclaimed the parson. " Deacon 
 Tubman, you are right. I do keep to my study 
 too closely. 1 don t see enough of the world 
 and what s going on in it. I was reading the 
 Testament this morning, aad I was impressed 
 with the Master s manner of living and teach 
 ing. It is not certain that he ever preached 
 more than twice in a church during all his min 
 istry on the earth. And the children ! how 
 much he loved the children, and how the little 
 ones loved him ! And why shouldn t they love 
 me, too? Why shouldn t they? I ll make 
 them do it! yes, I ll make them do it! The 
 lambs of my flock shall love me." And with 
 these brave words Parson Whitney bundled 
 himself up in his warmest garments, and fol 
 lowed the deacon downstairs. 
 
 "Tell the folks that you won t be back till 
 night," called the deacon from the sleigh; 
 " for this is New Year, and we re going to 
 make a day of it," and he laughed away as 
 heartily as might be so heartily that the par- 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 63 
 
 son joined in the laughter himself as he came 
 shuffling down the icy path toward him. " Bless 
 me! how much younger I feel already!" said the 
 good man as he stood up in the sleigh, and 
 with a long, strong breath breathed the cool, 
 pure air into his lungs. " Bless me ! how much 
 younger I feel already ! " he repeated, as he 
 settled down into the roomy seat of the old 
 sleigh. " Only sixteen to-day, eh, deacon ? " 
 and he nudged him with his elbow. 
 
 " That s all, that s all, parson," answered the 
 deacon gayly, as he nudged him vigorously 
 back ; " that s all we are, either of us," and, 
 laughing as merrily as two boys, the two glided 
 away in the sleigh. 
 
 Well, perhaps they didn t have fun that day, 
 these two old boys that had started out with 
 the feeling that they were " only sixteen," and 
 bound to make " a day of it ! " And they did 
 make a day of it, in fact, and such a day as 
 neither had had for forty years ; for, first, they 
 went to Bartlett s Hill, where the boys and 
 
64 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 girls were coasting, and coasted with them for 
 a full hour, and then it was discovered by 
 the younger portion of his flock that the par 
 son was not an old, stiff, solemn, surly poke, as 
 they had thought, but a pleasant, good-natured, 
 kindly soul, who could take and give a joke, 
 and steer a sled as well as the smartest boy 
 in the crowd ; and when it came to snow-ball 
 ing, he could send a ball further than Bill 
 Sykes himself, who could out-throw any boy in 
 town, and roll up a bigger block to the new 
 snow fort they were building than any three 
 boys among them. And how the parson en 
 joyed being a boy again ! How exhilarating 
 the slide down the steep hill; how invigorating 
 the pure, cool air ; how pleasant the noise 
 of the chatting and joking going on around 
 him ; how bright and sweet the boys and girls 
 looked, with their rosy cheeks and sparkling 
 eyes ; and how the old parson s heart thrilled as 
 they crowded around him when he would go, 
 and urged him to stay, and little Alice Dor- 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 65 
 
 Chester begged him, with her little arms around 
 his neck, to 44 jes stay and gib me one more 
 slide, please ! " 
 
 44 You never made such a pastoral call as 
 that, parson," said the deacon, as they drove 
 away p.mid the cheers of the boys and the 
 44 good-bys " of the girls, while the former 
 fired off a volley of snow-balls in his honor, 
 and the latter waved their muffs and handker 
 chiefs after them. 
 
 44 God bless them ! God bless them ! " said the 
 parson. 44 They have lifted a load from my heart, 
 and taught me the sweetness of life, of youth, 
 and the wisdom of Him who took the little ones 
 in His arms, and blessed them. Ah, deacon," 
 he added, 44 I ve been a great fool, but I ll be 
 so, thank God ! no more." 
 
 Now, old Jack was a horse of a great deal of 
 character, and had a great history ; but of this 
 none in that section, save the little deacon, 
 knew a word. Dick Tubman, the deacon s 
 youngest, wildest, and, we might add, favorite 
 
66 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 son, had purchased him of an impecunious 
 jockey, at the close of a disastrous cam 
 paign, that cleaned him completely out, and 
 left him in a strange city a thousand miles from 
 home, with nothing but the horse, harness, and 
 sulky, and a list of unpaid bills that must be 
 met before he could leave the scene of his dis 
 astrous fortunes. Under such circumstances it 
 was that Dick Tubman ran across the horse, 
 and partly out of pity for its owner, and partly 
 out of admiration of the horse, whose failure to 
 win at the races was due more to his lack of 
 condition and the bad management of his jockey 
 than lack of speed, bought him off-hand, and, 
 having no use for him himself, shipped him as 
 a present to the deacon, with whom he had now 
 been four years, with no harder work than 
 ploughing out the good old man s corn in the 
 summer, and jogging along the country roads 
 on the deacon s errands. Having said thus 
 much of the horse, perhaps we should more 
 particularly describe him. 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 67 
 
 He was, in sooth, an animal of most unique 
 and extraordinary appearance ; for, in the first 
 place, he was quite seventeen hands in height, 
 and long in proportion. He was also the 
 reverse of shapely in the fashion of his build : 
 for his head was long and bony, and his hip 
 bones sharp and protuberant ; his tail was what 
 is known among horsemen as a rat-tail, being 
 but scantily covered with hair, and his neck was 
 even more scantily supplied with a mane, while 
 in color he could easily have taken any pre 
 mium put up for homeliness, being an ashen 
 roan, mottled with flecks and patches of divers 
 hues; but his legs were flat and corded like a 
 racer s, his neck long and thin as a thorough 
 bred s, his nostrils large, his ears sharply pointed 
 and lively, while the white rings around his eyes 
 hinted at a cross, somewhere in his pedigree, 
 with Arabian blood. A huge, bony, homely- 
 looking horse he was, who drew the deacon and 
 Miranda into the village on market days and 
 Sundays, with a loose, shambling gait, making 
 
68 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 altogether an appearance so homely and pecul 
 iar that the smart village chaps riding along in 
 their jaunty turn-outs used to chaff the good 
 deacon on the character of his steed, and 
 satirically challenge him to a brush. The dea 
 con always took their badinage in good part, 
 although he inwardly said more than once, " If 
 I ever get a good chance, when there ar n t too 
 many around, I ll go up to the turn of the road 
 beyond the church, and let Jack out on them ; " 
 for Dick had given him a hint of the horse s 
 history, and told him " he could knock the spots 
 out of thirty," and wickedly urged the deacon 
 to take the starch out of them airy chaps some 
 of these days. Such was the horse, then, that 
 the deacon had ahead of him, and the old- 
 fashioned sleigh, when, with the parson along 
 side, he struck into the principal street of the 
 village. 
 
 Now, New Year s Day is a lively day in many 
 country villages, and on this bright one espe 
 cially, as the sleighing was perfect, everybody 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 69 
 
 was out. Indeed, it had got noised abroad that 
 certain trotters of local fame were to be on the 
 street that afternoon, and, as the boys worded 
 it, " there would be heaps of fun going on." 
 And so it happened that everybody in town, 
 and many who lived out of it, were on this par 
 ticular street, and just at the hour, too, when 
 the deacon came to the foot of it, so that the 
 walk on either side was lined darkly with lookers- 
 on, and the smooth snow-path between the two 
 lines looked like a veritable homestretch on a 
 race-day. 
 
 Now, when the deacon had reached the 
 corner of the main street and turned into it, it 
 was at that point where the course terminated 
 and the " brushes " were ended, and at the 
 precise moment when the dozen or twenty 
 horses that had just come flying down were 
 being pulled up preparatory to returning at a 
 slow gait to the customary starting-point at the 
 head of the street, a half-mile away, so that 
 the old-fashioned sleigh was surrounded by the 
 
70 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 light, fancy cutters of the rival racers, and old 
 Jack was shambling awkwardly along in the 
 midst of the high-spirited and smoking nags 
 that had just come flying down the stretch. 
 
 44 Hellow, deacon," shouted one of the boys, 
 who was driving a trim-looking bay, and who 
 had crossed the line at the ending of the course 
 second only to a pacer that could " speed like a 
 streak of lightning," as the boys said, " Hel 
 low, deacon ; ain t you going to shake out old 
 shamble-heels, and show us fellows what speed 
 is to-day ? " And the merry-hearted chap, son 
 of the principal lawyer of the place, laughed 
 heartily at his challenge, while the other drivers 
 looked at the great angular horse that, without 
 any check, was walking carelessly along, with 
 his head held down, ahead of the old sleigh 
 and its churchly occupants. 
 
 44 I don t know but what 1 will," answered the 
 deacon, good-naturedly ; " don t know but what 
 I will, if the parson don t object, and you won t 
 start off too quick to begin with ; for this is 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 71 
 
 New Year s, and a little extra fun won t hurt 
 any of us, I reckon." 
 
 " Do it, do it ; we ll hold up for you," an 
 swered a dozen merry voices. " Do it, deacon : 
 it ll do old shamble-heels good to go a ten-mile- 
 an-hour gait for once in his life, and the parson 
 needn t fear of being scandalized by any speed 
 you ll get out of him, either ; " and the merry 
 chaps haw-hawed as men and boys will, when 
 every one is jolly and fun flows fast. 
 
 And so, with any amount of good-natured 
 chaffing from the drivers of the " fast uns," and 
 from many that lined the road too, for the 
 day gave greater liberty than usual to bantering 
 speech, the speedy ones paced slowly up to 
 the head of the street, with old Jack shambling 
 demurely in the midst of them. 
 
 But the horse was a knowing old fellow, and 
 had " scored " at too many races not to know 
 that the <4 return " was to be leisurely taken, 
 and, indeed, he was a horse of independence, 
 and of too even, perhaps of too sluggish, a 
 
72 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 temperament, to waste himself in needless 
 action ; but he had the right stuff in him, and 
 hadn t forgotten his early training either, for 
 when he came to the " turn," his head and tail 
 came up, his eye brightened, and, with a playful 
 movement of his huge body, and without the 
 least hint from the deacon, he swung himself 
 and the cumbrous old sleigh into line, and 
 began to straighten himself for the coming 
 brush. 
 
 Now, Jack was, as we have said, a horse of 
 huge proportions, and needed "steadying" at 
 the start, but the good deacon had no experi 
 ence with the " ribbons," and was therefore 
 utterly unskilled in the matter of driving ; and 
 so it came about that old Jack was so confused 
 at the start that he made a most awkward and 
 wretched appearance in his effort to get off, 
 being all " mixed up," as the saying is, so 
 much so that the crowd roared at his ungainly 
 efforts, and his flying rivals were twenty rods 
 away before he even got started. But at last 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 73 
 
 he got his huge body in a straight line, and, 
 leaving his miserable shuffle, squared away to 
 his work, and, with head and tail up, went off 
 at so slashing a gait that it fairly took the dea 
 con s breath away, and caused the crowd that 
 had been hooting him to roar their applause, 
 while the parson grabbed the edge of the old 
 sleigh with one hand and the rim of his tall 
 black hat with the other. 
 
 What a pity, Mr. Longface, that God made 
 horses as they are, and gave them such gran 
 deur of appearance when in action, and put 
 such an eagle-like spirit between their ribs, so 
 that, quitting the plodding motions of the ox, 
 they can fly like that noble bird, and come 
 sweeping down the course as on wings of the 
 wind ! 
 
 It was not my fault, nor the deacon s, nor the 
 parson s either, please remember, then, that 
 awkward, shuffling, homely-looking old Jack 
 was thus suddenly transformed, by the royalty 
 of blood, of pride, and of speed given him by 
 
74 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 his Creator, from what he ordinarily was, into 
 a magnificent spectacle of energetic velocity. 
 
 With muzzle lifted well up, tail erect, the few 
 hairs in it streaming straight behind, one ear 
 pricked forward and the other turned sharply 
 back, the great horse swept grandly along at a 
 pace that was rapidly bringing him even with 
 the rear line of the flying group. And yet so 
 little was the pace to him that he fairly gam 
 bolled in playfulness as he went slashing along, 
 until the deacon verily began to fear that the 
 honest old chap would break through all the 
 bounds of propriety and send his heels antically 
 through his treasured dashboard. Indeed, the 
 spectacle that the huge horse presented was so 
 magnificent, his action so free, spirited, and 
 playful, as he came sweeping onward, that 
 cheers and exclamations, such as, " Good 
 heavens! see the deacon s old horse! " t4 Look 
 at him ! look at him ! " " What a stride ! " etc., 
 ran ahead of him, and old Bill Sykes, a trainer 
 in his day, but now a hanger-on at the village 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 75 
 
 tavern, or that section of it known as the bar, 
 wiped his watery eyes with his tremulous fist, 
 as he saw Jack come swinging down, and, as he 
 swept past with his open gait, powerful stroke, 
 and stiffles playing well out, brought his hand 
 with a mighty slap against his thigh, and said, 
 " I ll be blowed if he isn t a regular old timer ! " 
 It was fortunate for the deacon and the par 
 son that the noise and cheering of the crowd 
 drew the attention of the drivers ahead, or there 
 would surely have been more than one collision, 
 for the old sleigh was of such size and strength, 
 the good deacon so unskilled at the reins, and 
 Jack, who was adding to his momentum with 
 every stride, was going at so determined a pace, 
 that, had he struck the rear line, with no gap for 
 him to go through, something serious would 
 surely have happened. But, as it was, the 
 drivers saw the huge horse, with the cumbrous 
 old sleigh behind him, bearing down on them 
 at such a gait as made their own speed, sharp 
 as it was, seem slow, and " pulled out" in time 
 
76 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 to save themselves ; and so without any mishap 
 the big horse and heavy sleigh swept through 
 the rear row of racers like an autumn gust 
 through a cluster of leaves. 
 
 By this time the deacon had become some 
 what alarmed, for Jack was going nigh to a 
 thirty clip, a frightful pace for an inexperi 
 enced man to ride, and began to put a 
 good strong pressure upon the bit, not doubting 
 that old Jack ordinarily the easiest horse in 
 the world to manage would take the hint 
 and immediately slow up. But though the 
 huge horse took the hint, it was exactly in 
 the opposite manner that the deacon intended 
 he should, for he interpreted the little man s 
 steady pull as an intimation that his inexperi 
 enced driver was getting over his flurry and 
 beginning to treat him as a big horse ought to be 
 treated in a race, and that he could now, having 
 got settled to his work, go ahead. And go 
 ahead he did. The more the deacon pulled, 
 the more the great horse felt himself steadied 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 77 
 
 and assisted. And so, the harder the good man 
 tugged at the reins, the more powerfully the 
 machinery of the big animal ahead of him 
 worked, until the deacon got alarmed, and 
 began to call upon the horse to stop, crying, 
 44 Whoa, Jack! whoa, old boy, I say! Whoa, 
 will you now, that s a good fellow ! " and many 
 other coaxing calls, while he pulled away 
 steadily at the reins. 
 
 But the horse misunderstood the deacon s 
 calls, as he had his pressure on the reins, for 
 the crowd on either side were now yelling, and 
 hooting, and swinging their caps, so that the 
 deacon s voice came indistinctly to his ears at 
 the best, and he interpreted his calls for him to 
 stop as only so many encouragements and 
 signals for him to go ahead ; and so, .with the 
 memory of a hundred races stirring his blood, 
 the crowd cheering him to the echo, the steady 
 ing pull and encouraging cries of his driver in 
 his ears, and his only rival, the pacer, whirling 
 along only a few rods ahead of him, the mon- 
 
78 DEACON TUBMAX AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 strous animal, with a desperate plunge that 
 half lifted the old sleigh from the snow, let out 
 another link, and, with such a burst of speed 
 as was never seen in the village before, tore 
 along after the pacer at such a terrific pace 
 that, within the distance of a dozen lengths, he 
 lay lapped upon him, and the two were going 
 it nose and nose. 
 
 What is that feeling in human hearts which 
 makes us sympathetic with man or animal who 
 has unexpectedly developed courage and capa 
 city when engaged in a struggle in which the 
 odds are against him ? And why do we enter 
 so spiritedly into the contest, and lose ourselves 
 in the excitement of the moment ? Is it pride ? 
 Is it the comradeship of courage ? Or is it the 
 rising of the indomitable in us, that loves noth 
 ing so much as victory, and hates nothing so 
 much as defeat ? Be that as it may, no sooner 
 was old Jack fairly lapped on the pacer, whose 
 driver was urging him along with reins and 
 voice alike, and the contest seemed doubtful, 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 79 
 
 than, the spirit of old Adam himself entered 
 into the deacon and the parson both, so that, 
 carried away by the excitement of the race, 
 they fairly forgot themselves, and entered as 
 wildly into the contest as two ungodly jockeys. 
 
 "Deacon Tubman!" said the parson, as he 
 clutched the rim of his tall hat, against which, 
 as the horse tore along, the snow chips were 
 pelting in showers, more stoutly, " Deacon 
 Tubmai>! do you think the pacer will beat us?" 
 
 " Not if I can help it ! not if I can hejp it ! " 
 yelled the deacon in reply, as, with something 
 like a reinsman s skill, he instinctively lifted 
 Jack to another spurt. "Go it, old boy!" he 
 shouted encouragingly. " Go along with you, 
 I say ! " and the parson, also carried away by 
 the whirl of the moment, cried, " Go along, old 
 boy ! Go along with you, I say ! " 
 
 This was the very thing, and the only thing, that 
 huge horse, whose blood was now fairly aflame, 
 wanted to rally him for the final effort ; and, in 
 response to the encouraging cries of the two 
 
80 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 behind him, he gathered himself together for 
 another burst of speed, and put forth his col 
 lected strength with such tremendous energy 
 and suddenness of movement that the little 
 deacon, who had risen, and was standing erect 
 in the sleigh, fell back into the arms of the 
 parson, while the great horse rushed over the 
 line a winner by a clear length, amid such 
 cheers and roars of laughter as were never 
 heard in that village before. 
 
 Nor was the horse any more the object of 
 public interest and remark we may say favor 
 ing remark than the parson, who suddenly 
 found himself the centre of a crowd of his own 
 parishioners, many of whom would scarcely be 
 expected as participants of such a scene, but 
 who, thawed out of their iciness by the genial 
 temper of the day, and vastly excited over 
 Jack s contest, thronged upon the good man, 
 laughing as heartily as any jolly sinner in the 
 crowd. 
 
 So everybody shook hands with the parson 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 8 1 
 
 and wished him a Happy New Year, and the 
 parson shook hands with everybody and wished 
 them all many happy returns ; and everybody 
 praised old Jack, and rallied the deacon on his 
 driving ; and then everybody went home good- 
 natured and happy, laughing and talking about 
 the wonderful race, and the change that had 
 come over Parson Whitney. 
 
 And as for Parson Whitney himself, the day 
 and its fun had taken twenty years from his 
 age, and nothing would answer but the deacon 
 must go home and eat the New Year s pudding 
 at the parsonage : and he did. And at the 
 table they laughed and talked over the funny 
 incidents of the day, and joked each other as 
 merrily as two boys. Then Parson Whitney 
 told some reminiscences of his college days, 
 and the scrapes he got into, and a riot between 
 town and gown, when he carried the 4i Bully s 
 Club ; " and the deacon responded by narrating 
 his experiences with a certain Deacon Jones s 
 watermelon patch when he was a boy, and over 
 
82 DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 
 
 their tales and their mulled cider they laughed 
 till they cried, and roared so lustily at the 
 remembered frolics of their youthful days that 
 the old parsonage rang, the books on the 
 library shelves rattled, and several of the theo 
 logical volumes actually gaped with horror. 
 
 But at last the stories were all told, the jokes 
 all cracked, and the laughter all laughed, and 
 the little deacon wished the parson good-by, 
 and jogged happily homeward ; but more than 
 once he laughed to himself, and said, "Bless 
 my soul! I didn t know the parson had so much 
 fun in him." And long the parson sat by the 
 glowing grate after the deacon had left him, 
 musing of other days, and the happy, pleasant 
 things that were in them ; and many times he 
 smiled, and once he laughed outright at some 
 remembered folly, for he said, " What a wild boy 
 I was, and yet I meant no wrong ; and the dear 
 old days were very happy." 
 
 Ay, ay! Parson Whitney, the dear old days 
 were very happy, not only to thee, but to all of 
 
DEACON TUBMAN AND PARSON WHITNEY. 83 
 
 us, who, following our sun, have fared west 
 ward so long that the light of the morning 
 shows dull through the dim haze of memory. 
 But happier than even the old days will be the 
 young ones, I ween, when, following still west 
 ward, we suddenly come to the gates of the new 
 east and the morning once more ; and there, in 
 the dawn of a day which is cloudless and end 
 less, we find our lost youth and its loves, to lose 
 them and it no more forever, thank God ! 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE: 
 
 THE OLD TRAPPER S STORY. 
 
 A 
 
 STORY? Why, yes. If Henry, there, 
 
 will translate it 
 And put it in verse and print as he promised 
 To do when it happened. Will he do it? I 
 
 doubt. 
 He dislikes to dabble with rhyme and with 
 
 measure. 
 Says that good honest prose is the best and 
 
 the sweetest 
 If the words be well chosen, short, Saxon, and 
 
 pithy. 
 And that making of verse is the business of 
 
 women, 
 
 85 
 
86 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Of green boys at school, and of lovers when 
 
 spooning. 
 But try him. It may be he will. For a 
 
 lesson 
 
 Is in it, and that makes it worth telling. 
 The woods have their secrets and sorrows and 
 
 struggles 
 As well as the cities. You can find in the 
 
 woods 
 Many things, if you look, beside trees, rocks, 
 
 and mountains. 
 
 Jack Whitcomb he said his name was, though I 
 
 doubted. 
 For the name on his bosom, tattooed in 
 
 purple, 
 Didn t point quite that way. But that doesn t 
 
 matter. 
 
 One name in the woods is as good as another 
 If a man answers to it and it s easily spoken. 
 So we called him Jack Whitcomb and asked 
 
 nothing further. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 87 
 
 Hrave ? Why, of course he was brave. Men 
 
 are not cowards. 
 Cowards clon t come to the woods. They stay 
 
 in the cities, 
 Where policemen are thick and the streets are 
 
 all lighted. 
 In the woods men trail with their ears and eyes 
 
 open, 
 And sleep when they sleep with their hands on 
 
 their rifles. 
 Why? Well, panthers are plenty and cunning 
 
 and quiet, 
 
 And a man is a fool that goes carelessly stumbling 
 Under trees where they crouch, under crags 
 
 where they gather. 
 Furthermore, with the saints, now and then 
 
 there are sinners 
 That live in the woods; and some half-breeds are 
 
 wicked, 
 And know nothing of law unless taught by a 
 
 bullet. 
 
 I ve done what I could to teach knaves the 
 commandments. 
 
88 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Yes. Jack Whitcomb was brave. Brave as the 
 
 bravest. 
 His glance was as keen and his mouth was as 
 
 silent 
 As a trailer s should be who looks and who 
 
 listens 
 
 By day and by night, having no one to talk to. 
 His finger was quick when it handled the 
 
 trigger, 
 And his eye loved the sights as lightning loves 
 
 rivers. 
 I ve seen him stand up when the odds were 
 
 against him. 
 Stand up like a man who takes coolly the 
 
 chances. 
 That proves he was brave as I understand it. 
 
 N 
 
 One day we were boating on far Mistassinni. 
 We were fetching the portage above the great 
 
 rapids, 
 Where they whirled, roaring down, freshet full, 
 
 at their whitest, 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 89 
 
 When we saw from a rock that stretched out 
 ward and over 
 
 The wild hissing water as it swept on in thunder, 
 A canoe coming down, rolling over and over, 
 With a little papoose clinging tight to the 
 
 lashings ; 
 
 And as it lanced by Jack went in like an otter. 
 How he did it God knows, but at the foot of 
 
 the rapids, 
 Half a mile farther down racing onward, I 
 
 found him 
 High and dry on the beach in a faint like a 
 
 woman, 
 With the little papoose pulling away at his 
 
 jacket. 
 And when he came to, he put child to his 
 
 shoulder, 
 Nor stopped till it lay in the arms of its mother. 
 
 We were trailing, Henry and I, trailing and 
 
 trapping 
 In the land to the north, where fur was the 
 
 thickest, 
 
90 THE LEAP" OF RED ROSE. 
 
 And knaves were as plenty as mink or as otter. 
 We took turns at sleeping, and trailed our line 
 
 double 
 
 To keep our own skins, if we didn t get others. 
 It was folly to stay where we were, and we 
 
 knew it, 
 For the knaves they got thicker, and soon there 
 
 was shooting 
 Going on pretty lively. But we held to the 
 
 business 
 And scouted the line once a week like true 
 
 trappers. 
 And no accident happened save some holes in 
 
 our jackets, 
 And my powder-horn emptied by a vagabond s 
 
 bullet. 
 So we mended our clothing and felt pretty 
 
 lively. 
 But the signs pointed one way. Our enemies 
 
 thickened 
 Around us each day, and we weren t quite 
 
 decided 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 9 1 
 
 To stand in for a fight and settle the mat 
 ter, 
 
 Or pull up our traps and get out of the 
 country, 
 
 When it settled itself. And in this way it 
 happened. 
 
 We were scouting the lake on the west shore 
 
 one morning, 
 To find the knaves camp and how many were 
 
 in it, 
 When a short space ahead there came of a 
 
 sudden 
 A crash as of thunder, and we knew that a 
 
 dozen 
 Or twenty placed rifles had burst an ambush- 
 
 ment. 
 
 And then in an instant there sounded another. 
 Two sharp, twin reports and the death yells 
 
 that followed 
 Told us as we listened where the lead had been 
 
 driven. 
 
92 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Knew who he was ? Of course. The man was 
 
 Jack Whitcomb. 
 Do you think men who live by trapping and 
 
 shooting 
 Don t learn to distinguish the voice of their 
 
 rifles ? 
 
 Jack was trailing the lake to find our encamp 
 ment, 
 For far away in the south there had come to his 
 
 cabin 
 A rumor that we in the north land were 
 
 holding 
 Our line and our furs with a good deal of 
 
 shooting. 
 So he left his own traps and came by swift 
 
 trailing 
 
 To give us the help of another good rifle. 
 That was just like Jack Whitcomb. If you 
 
 were in trouble 
 He was there by your side. You could always 
 
 count on him, 
 With finger on trigger and both barrels loaded. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 93 
 
 So Henry and I both took to our covers 
 
 Right and left of the trail Jack must take in 
 
 retreating. 
 We didn t wait long, for the boy knew his 
 
 business, 
 
 And soon he came backward, loading and run 
 ning, 
 Like a man who was busy but wouldn t be 
 
 hurried 
 
 Beyond his own gait, if he stopped there forever. 
 As he passed our two covers I piped him a 
 
 whistle ; 
 And he stopped in his tracks, and with low, 
 
 pleasant laughter, 
 Stood there in full view coolly capping the 
 
 nipples. 
 I have shot on each Gulf, both Southern and 
 
 Northern. 
 
 I have trailed the long trail between either ocean. 
 Brave men I have seen, both in good and in evil, 
 But never a braver than the man called Jack 
 
 Whitcomb. 
 
94 THE I EAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Well, why describe it ? Call it scrimmage or 
 battle, 
 
 It was done in a minute, or it may be a 
 dozen. 
 
 It came like a whirlwind, and we three were 
 in it 
 
 As men are in whirlwinds. It came like the 
 thunder, 
 
 With a crash and a roar and a long running 
 rumble 
 
 Dying down into silence. There were dead and 
 some wounded, 
 
 And a few lucky knaves that fled wildly back 
 ward ; 
 
 And Henry and I, when it passed, were left 
 standing 
 
 By the body of him whose name was Jack 
 Whitcomb, 
 
 Who lay as he fell, when headlong he tum 
 bled, 
 
 His rifle still clinched and both barrels 
 smoking. 
 
THE LEAK OF RED ROSE. 95 
 
 I have seen in my life many wounds made by 
 bullets, 
 
 And a good many gashes by spear-points and 
 arrows. 
 
 I have learned in my trailing a good many 
 simples 
 
 Which have power to keep men from crossing 
 the river 
 
 Before the Lord calls with voice that is certain. 
 
 And the wound that we found on Jack Whit- 
 comb s body, 
 
 Though ugly and deep, was not beyond curing. 
 
 We cleansed and we stanched it and fought a 
 brave battle 
 
 With death, for his life, and we won. For Jack 
 mended. 
 
 We made a canoe and we bore him far south 
 ward. 
 
 A hundred good miles down the river we boated. 
 
 Till we came to his house of huge logs, strongly 
 builded, 
 
96 . THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Beneath the big pines on the bank of a rapid, 
 Which under it flowed its soft rush of brown 
 
 water. 
 Twas a place to bring peace to a heart that was 
 
 troubled, 
 
 If peace might be found this side of the silence 
 Which brings peace to all that know sorrow in 
 
 living. 
 
 Yes, we boated him down to his home by the 
 
 rapids. 
 His home ? No, rather his house let us 
 
 call it. 
 For how can a house be a home with naught 
 
 in it? 
 In house that is home must be love, .warm 
 
 and human, 
 
 A voice that is sweet, a heart that is gentle, 
 A soul that is true, and beside these a cradle 
 That prattles and coos ; and the quick-falling 
 
 patter 
 Of little white feet that run hither and thither. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 97 
 
 To his house, and not to his home, then, we 
 
 brought him, 
 
 For certainly nothing and no one was in it, 
 Save himself and a dog, a bed and a table, 
 Some chairs, a few books, and a Picture. 
 And this was the story that he told us in dying. 
 The man might have lived, beyond doubt, had 
 
 he cared to. 
 But he didn t. No motive, he said. And he 
 
 had none, 
 
 As we felt later on, when he told us his story. 
 So he died without word or sign. And in 
 
 silence 
 
 We stood and saw him go forth on his journey 
 Without speaking a word, without a hand lifted 
 To hold or to stop him, for we did not feel 
 
 certain 
 What was wisdom for one who went forth in 
 
 such fashion. 
 
 Perhaps it was best he should go and be over 
 With pain, loss and trouble for ever and ever. 
 Henry says, it were well we should all of us go 
 
98 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 When life has no aim and no hope ; and no 
 
 doing 
 
 Remains to be done ; and days are but eating 
 And drinking and breathing, only these and no 
 
 more. 
 
 But before he went forth he gave me a 
 
 message. 
 
 " I loved her," so his story began. Henry, 
 You remember the look on his face as he said it, 
 As he lay with his eyes fixed fast on the 
 
 Picture ? 
 " She was strong, and she drew me as life draws 
 
 the young 
 And as death draws the old. 1 could not 
 
 resist her. 
 
 She was vital with force, to attract and to hold. 
 She raced me a race for my life, and she won it. 
 I was man, not a boy, and I loved as man loves 
 When the forces of life are in him full-flooded 
 As rivers in meadows, when they flow to the 
 
 sedges. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 99 
 
 Did she love me ? Perhaps. Who can tell ? 
 
 She was woman, 
 And hence she was dark as the night, and as 
 
 hidden ! 
 Who could find her? Who the depth of her 
 
 nature 
 Might measure ? I tried but could not. Then 
 
 boldly 
 I spake spake as man speaks but once unto 
 
 woman. 
 
 True and straight did I say it man fashion. 
 But she drew back offended ; she shrank from 
 
 my praying, 
 
 And with coldness of tone and suspicion dis 
 missed me. 
 Had a man shown a tithe of that look in his 
 
 eye, 
 On his face, he or I would have died on the 
 
 instant. 
 Rut what can a man do, when scorned by a 
 
 woman ? 
 So I left her. 
 
IOO THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 I need not say more. My life it was ended. 
 
 It wasn t worth living ; I am made in that 
 fashion. 
 
 So I came to the woods. Where else when in 
 trouble 
 
 Can man go and find what he needs, con 
 solation ? 
 
 Go you down to her house, in the city, John 
 Norton, 
 
 To the house where she lives, and give her this 
 message. 
 
 Word for word let her hear it, say where you 
 left me. 
 
 There s gold in that box to pay your ex 
 penses. 
 
 Word for word as I tell you, nor say a word 
 further." 
 
 Then he bade us good-by, and marched away 
 bravely, 
 
 As a man on a trail that is somewhat un 
 certain. 
 
 And under the pines on the bank of the rapids 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. IOI 
 
 We buried the man whom the woods called 
 
 Jack Whitcomb, 
 And the picture he loved we placed on his 
 
 bosom. 
 
 I went down to her house in the city. A cabin 
 Of stone, brown as tamarack bark, trimmed 
 
 with olive. 
 
 It was high as a pine that stands on a moun 
 tain. 
 The door was as wide as the mouth of a 
 
 cavern. 
 At the door stood a man rigged up like a 
 
 soldier ; 
 
 His face was as solemn as judgment to sinners; 
 He looked at me some, and I looked him all 
 
 over, 
 Then he suddenly bowed like a half-breed with 
 
 manners, 
 And told me to enter, and he would call 
 
 Madame. 
 
102 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 The room was as large as a town house where 
 
 settlers 
 Hold meetings to vote themselves office and 
 
 wages. 
 
 The walls were like caves in far Arizona, 
 All covered with pictures of houses and battles ; 
 Of ships blown onward by gales in mid-ocean ; 
 Of children with wings, pretty queer-looking 
 
 creatures ; 
 
 Of men and of women, and some were half- 
 naked. 
 But the floor was of oak, which gleamed like a 
 
 polish ; 
 And with mats thick as moss, and with skins it 
 
 was covered, 
 So I felt quite at home, as there I stood 
 
 looking, 
 And noting the size and signs of the cabin. 
 
 Then, all of a sudden, there came a soft rustle, 
 Like the rustle of leaves when the wind blows 
 in autumn. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 103 
 
 And down the wide stairway across the great 
 
 hall, 
 To the door of the room in which I was 
 
 standing, 
 
 Stately and swift, came a woman and entered. 
 Tall as the tallest. Made firmly, knit firmly 
 Both in form and in limb, but full and well 
 
 rounded ; 
 
 Dark of eye, dark of face, with hair like a raven, 
 Like the girls of Nevada, where live the old 
 
 races, 
 Whose blood is as fire, and whose skin is of 
 
 olive, 
 Whose mouths are as sweet as a fig when it 
 
 ripens. 
 Arms bare to the shoulders. Neck and bosom 
 
 uncovered. 
 Her gown of white satin gleamed and Mowed 
 
 downward 
 
 And round her in folds of soft, creamy white 
 ness. 
 No ring on her hand, nor in ear. Not a circle 
 
IO4 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Of gold round her throat. One armlet of silver, 
 And one at her wrist loosely clasped, small and 
 
 slender. 
 So she entered and stood, and looked me all over. 
 
 Then slowly she spake. " Your name, sir, and 
 
 business ? " 
 " Madame," I said, " in the woods men call me 
 
 John Norton ; 
 John Norton, the Trapper." Then I stopped 
 
 mighty sudden, 
 For her face it grew white to the lips and the 
 
 chin, 
 And she swayed as a tree to the stroke of the 
 
 chopper 
 When he sinks his axe in to the heart and it 
 
 totters 
 And quivers. So I stopped, stopped quick and 
 
 stood looking. 
 
 Then her dark face it lighted, and she said, 
 speaking quickly : 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 105 
 
 "John Norton, I know you. I know you are 
 
 honest. 
 You live in the woods. You are good. I can 
 
 trust you. 
 All men, I have heard, come to you in their 
 
 trouble. 
 Have you seen in the North, have you met in 
 
 the woods, 
 
 Has there come to your cabin a man, tall as you, 
 Brave as you and as tender ? A man like to 
 
 this ? " 
 And out of her gown, from the folds on her 
 
 bosom, 
 
 She lifted a locket of pearl-colored velvet, 
 Touched a spring, and I saw, as the lid of it 
 
 opened, 
 The face of the man I and Henry had buried ! 
 
 " John Norton," she cried, and her eyes burned 
 
 like fever. 
 Her hand shook and trembled, her face was as 
 
 marble, 
 

 IQ 6 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Have you seen in the woods man like to this 
 
 picture ? 
 Speak quick and speak true as to woman in 
 
 trouble. 
 For I did him great wrong, I thought he held 
 
 lightly 
 My fair name and fame; held lightly my 
 
 honor. 
 I thought he meant evil, and my heart, filled 
 
 with anger, 
 Dismissed him in scorn ; but I learned, I learned 
 
 later, 
 He was true, and spake truth and loved me as 
 
 heaven." 
 
 Then I stood and I looked and held my face 
 
 steady, 
 
 So it gave her no sign of what I was thinking. 
 I saw she was honest, and I wished then to 
 
 spare her, 
 But my word it was pledged, pledged to him 
 
 in dying, 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. IO/ 
 
 To stand as I stood, face to face with this 
 
 woman, 
 In her house, in that room, and give her his 
 
 message. 
 Beside, not to know is far worse than the 
 
 knowing 
 At times. So I rallied and told her the 
 
 message, 
 Word for word, as he charged, the night he lay 
 
 dying 
 In his house on the bank above the swift rapids. 
 
 " Madame," I said, " I have seen man like that 
 
 picture, 
 Face and form. He was brave as you say. He 
 
 was tender. 
 He was true unto death, and he loved you as 
 
 heaven. 
 And these are the words that he sent you in 
 
 dying. 
 I, a man of the woods, bring you this as last 
 
 message, 
 
1O8 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 Prom one who now sleeps on the bank of the 
 
 rapids 
 Of that northern river which pours its brown 
 
 water 
 
 To the Lake of St. John from far Mistassinni. 
 4 Tell her, John Norton, I loved her. Loved 
 
 her in living, 
 With a love that was true, and with same love 
 
 in dying. 
 
 Loved her like a man, like a saint, like a sinner, 
 For time now and time ever. That the one 
 
 picture 
 She gave me I kept ; living, dying, and 
 
 after. 
 That it lies on the breast of the man that you 
 
 buried ; 
 On the breast of the man who living did love 
 
 her, 
 
 And that there it will lie until it shall crumble, 
 With heart underneath it, to dust. So tell her, 
 And in proof that I tell her the truth, and did 
 
 tell it 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 1 09 
 
 The night when we met, and I told her I loved 
 
 her, 
 Give her this, the watch that I wore on the 
 
 evening 
 We met, and the evening we parted. Let her 
 
 open 
 And see. With her eyes let her see that I 
 
 loved her. 
 So say and no more." 
 
 Thus I spake. Word for word as he told me I 
 
 spake. 
 I gave her the watch, and I said no word 
 
 further. 
 I had done as I pledged, I had said as he 
 
 charged me, 
 So I stopped and stood waiting for word of 
 
 dismissal. 
 But she said not a word, nor made she a 
 
 sign. 
 The watch she took from me, touched the 
 
 spring and it opened, 
 
I 10 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 And there, twixt the glass and the gold, 
 
 withered and faded, 
 Lay a leaf of Red Rose. One leaf, and no 
 
 more. 
 
 For a moment she stood ; stood, and gazed at 
 
 the leaf, 
 Her face grew as white as her gown, and she 
 
 trembled 
 And shook like a white swan in dying, then she 
 
 cried, 
 
 " My God, I have killed him, my lover ! " 
 And down on the floor, on the skins at her feet 
 She dropped as one stricken by bullet or 
 
 lightning. 
 
 It was only last month that we two, in trailing, 
 Trailed a hundred good miles across to the 
 
 rapids. 
 
 For we wanted to see before going northward 
 If evil had come to the grave of our com 
 rade. 
 
THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. I I I 
 
 But the grave lay untouched, by beast or by 
 
 human. 
 The grass on the mound was well rooted and 
 
 growthful. 
 
 At the foot of the grave the rose-tree I planted 
 Was as high as my head. And the leaves of 
 
 the roses 
 Lay as thick as red snow-flakes on the mound 
 
 that was under. 
 And we knew that on breast, as he slept, was 
 
 her picture. 
 So we felt, as we gazed, it was well with Jack 
 
 Whitcomb. 
 
 But often at night, when alone in my cabin. 
 I hear the low murmur of far northern rapids. 
 And often I see the great house and its 
 
 splendor, 
 And wonder if death has helped the proud 
 
 woman 
 To lay off her grief and escape from her 
 
 sorrow, 
 
I 1 2 THE LEAF OF RED ROSE. 
 
 And blazed a line through the dark Valley of 
 
 Shadow, 
 And brought her in peace to the edge of the 
 
 clearing, 
 Where I know she would see Jack Whitcomb 
 
 stand, waiting. 
 
 So I say it again, and I say it with knowledge, 
 That the woods have their sorrows as well as 
 
 the cities. 
 And he knows but little of this great northern 
 
 forest 
 Who thinks there s naught in it save trees, 
 
 lakes, and mountains. 
 
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