LIFE 
 
 -AT 
 
 SHUT-IN VALLEY 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 PACIFIC COAST TALES. 
 
 CLARA SPALDING BROWN. 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1895. 
 
 THE EDITOR PUBLISHING CO., 
 FRANKLIN, (). 
 
CONTENTS : 
 
 L,ife at Shut-in Valley . 5 
 
 A Strike for Eight Hours 23 
 
 Hearts Are Trumps 37 
 
 A Mid-day Call at Miner s Flat 53 
 
 The Mysterious Miss Aldeman 65 
 
 The School -ma am of Mineral Hill 91 
 
 The Trials of Jonathan Mollify 123 
 
 Reuben Hall s Christmas 135 
 
 Mrs. Brighton s Burglar 148 
 
 Through Night to Light 155 
 
 That Ugly Man 165 
 
 The Awakening 170 
 
 M105437 
 
To the Memory of 
 
 My Brothers, 
 Two of Nature s Noblemen. 
 
LIFE AT SHUT-IN VALLEY. 
 
 C HUT-IN VALLEY lay bathed in sunlight the 
 J bright, intense sunlight of California, that burns 
 and crisps but does not wilt. Down the white, wind 
 ing road a cloud of dust betokened the swift gallop 
 of a stray horseman some hunter, probably, or a 
 visitor from the town, twenty-five miles away, to one 
 of the ranches still farther up the mountains. No 
 further sign of life was manifest, save in the door 
 way of a low, weather-beaten cabin at the extreme 
 lower end of the valley, where a young woman in a 
 plain calico gown stood, with her deep blue eyes 
 wearily scanning the landscape. Not even the rude 
 and uninviting setting of this living picture could 
 detract from its plainly apparent claim to more than 
 ordinary interest. It was a graceful figure and a high 
 bred face delicate, sensitive, full of intelligence and 
 refinement, of sadness, too, as its owner slowly turned 
 away and disappeared from sight. 
 
 " What a life ! " Marian Curtis was saying in her 
 heart. " How can I endure it ? " 
 
 Five years ago this solitary woman had been a 
 
 (5) 
 
r ia a bustling New England town. 
 A town not too large for sociability and genuine 
 enjoyment, but far removed from the dullness and 
 utter isolation of her present life. She had been well 
 known, respected, admired, had possessed the means 
 to gratify, in moderation, her aesthetic tastes and to 
 preserve an innate fastidiousness in regard to apparel 
 and surroundings. When Harvey Curtis, a prepos 
 sessing young man, from what the Coolville people 
 denominated l< the West " (albeit the territory in this 
 case was the State of Indiana), came to visit his sis 
 ter in her Yankee home, and without much loss of 
 time proceeded to court the pretty teacher who 
 chanced to be boarding in the house, grumblings sup 
 pressed but heartfelt were heard among the eligible 
 masculines native to the town. Miss Hunter had no 
 fortune at her command, and even " worked for a liv 
 ing," yet more than one appreciative resident had 
 been known to declare her " a prize for any man ;" 
 and it certainly was Miss Hunter s own fault that she 
 had not, ere this, exchanged her school of forty 
 roguish, restless pupils for one very different in 
 requirements. 
 
 She abdicated at last, in favor of this black- 
 browed, broad-shouldered man of thirty, whose strong 
 will and passionate devotion swept away every objec 
 tion. And for a year after their marriage she was 
 
-7- 
 
 happy. Harvey was fond and proud of his gentle 
 young wife, his means were amply sufficient for their 
 wants, and the current of life flowed smoothly. If 
 Marian at times noticed little things that jarred upon 
 her finer nature, was now and then sensible of an 
 indescribable disappointment, the momentary un 
 pleasantness was so speedily followed by a contrast 
 ing impression that she gave no deep thought to the 
 matter, but dismissed the subject with the reflection 
 that men were not like women, and doubtless she had 
 expected more than she had a right to enjoy. 
 
 Then Harvey took the California fever. At first 
 Marian could not bear to hear him talk about it. She 
 was one of those who can not lightly break home ties, 
 and her heart fainted within her when she contem 
 plated what her situation would be, far out on that 
 strange Pacific Coast, where no dear familiar features, 
 save her husband s, could ever meet her eye, and the 
 great distance and expense of the journey across the 
 continent would forbid visits to the " old folks at 
 home." But Harvey had the fever hard and strong. 
 His mind was really set upon going, and the winter 
 being an unusually severe and changeable one, Marian, 
 never very robust, began to cough. 
 
 " That settles it, Marian," declared Harvey; "you 
 must go. I can t let consumption get hold of you." 
 Even Marian s relatives thought it best, and the up- 
 
shot of it all was that just as the June roses were 
 bursting into bloom, and the bright-breasted robins 
 were twittering gaily in the cherry trees, she bade a 
 sorrowful good-bj r e to the old haunts she loved so 
 well and turned her face as bravely as might be 
 toward the setting sun. " I have my husband," she 
 thought, trying to dispel the dark cloud over her 
 spirits; " I can be happy with him anywhere. Cali 
 fornia must be a lovely place; we shall soon make 
 friends, and all will be well." 
 
 In due time the tedious, though interesting 
 journey was accomplished, and after a brief survey of 
 San Francisco the couple took passage on the Ancon 
 for San Diego. Here Harvey had an acquaintance, 
 and the climate being recommended as just the thing 
 for his wife, here he proposed to establish a home in 
 some way to be determined upon after inspection of 
 the place. He found the town smaller than he had 
 anticipated, with no promising openings for business, 
 San Diego being a sufferer at that time from the 
 unkept promises of the Texas & Pacific Railway 
 Company. Several months passed in looking over 
 the ground, and finally Harvey determined to buy a 
 ranch the best thing he could do, people said. 
 Plant it in wheat and he could have an income the 
 very first year, besides raising his own garden stuff, 
 having plenty of fresh eggs and milk and butter, 
 
-9- 
 
 even honey, as most of the ranchers in the mountains 
 had at least a few stands of bees Marian was soon 
 induced to give her consent. She was not fond of 
 farm life, as she knew it in the East, and she was 
 averse to removing so far away from any settlement ; 
 but there would be compensations which she hoped 
 would make life enjoyable in spite of all that she 
 disliked. The novelty of ranch life in this new 
 country was interesting, the climate was delightful 
 and the scenery grand. 
 
 So the bargain was struck, and the Curtises 
 moved out to their new home in season to prepare 
 the ground for the winter seeding. Harvey had 
 visited the ranch several times, but Marian had never 
 accompanied him. It was a long, rough road, up 
 narrow canons, down steep mountain grades and 
 across fertile little valleys occupied by one or two 
 small h uses, to the spot which had taken Harvey s 
 fancy ; and, as Marian had not been feeling at all 
 well, she had contented herself with listening atten 
 tively to her husband s eulogies of the place, and had 
 decided that if he found it satisfactory, with his 
 superior knowledge of what was requisite in a 
 ranch, she would like it very well. There was a 
 house to live in, she knew that, for the place had 
 been occupied by a man with quite a large family, 
 and there would be nothing to do but go right on 
 
10 
 
 with the management of the ranch so much easier 
 than to start on an unimproved place. It was near 
 nightfall when their tired horses ascended the rough 
 grade that led up to Shut-in-Valley, and Marian 
 understood the name with a new significance, as she 
 beheld the narrow opening between two great masses 
 of rock and earth that formed the only means of 
 access to the valley from the direction of San Diego ; 
 and later realized that there was only one way out at 
 the other end a still more tortuous and precipitous 
 path than the one toward town, leading only to some 
 lonely valleys on a higher level. She never got over 
 the impression of prison walls that those rugged, 
 inclosing mountains gave her. They were grand in 
 their outlines, beautiful often in their changing lights 
 and shadows, but they confined a restless soul, 
 imposed insurmountable barriers between her and 
 what her heart held dear. 
 
 She could scarcely believe her eyes when they 
 stopped before a rude, uupainted cabin beside the 
 road, a large chimney of stones standing conspicu 
 ously at one end, and Harvey laughingly told her 
 that this was " home." In her wildest flights of 
 fancy she had never dreamed of occupying a structure 
 like that why, it was no better than a lumberman s 
 shanty in the Maine pine woods, or than her father s 
 woodshed not half so good as the barns of her own 
 
II 
 
 country. Harvey was amused by her crest-fallen 
 countenance. " L,ooks rather rough, don t it, Marie? 
 But what do we care we ll enjoy ranching j ust the same, 
 and after the first harvest we ll have a new house." 
 Harvey did " enjoy ranching; " he developed more 
 and more a taste for out-door pursuits, was interested 
 heart and soul in the improvement and progress of 
 the place, and often declared that he didn t know 
 what^true enjoyment was until he came to California 
 he wouldn t go back East for all the farms in the 
 country. But strangely enough, all the improve 
 ments were confined to the fields, stock, agricultural 
 implements, etc. The first harvest and yet another, 
 passed successfully by; the yield being good on these 
 upper levels, even when nearly a failure in drier 
 localities, and the quality of the wheat being so good 
 that the crop was readily engaged at a fair price by 
 the managers of the flour mill in San Diego. Yet 
 there was no "new house." It took Harvey but a 
 few days to adapt himself to circumstances, as men 
 can so much more readily than women, and he soon 
 forgot that any changes were desirable. Alas ! that 
 I must say it, but Marian had a grievance much worse 
 than this; he also forgot, gradually but surely, to 
 give his wife those demonstrations of affection always 
 needed by a sensitive, sympathetic-natured woman, 
 and doubly called for in a situation like Marian s. 
 
He was happy and content, and he torgot that 
 he had taken his wife away from all her people to 
 associations that were repugnant. He was engrossed 
 in his ranch work, and he forgot that his wife was 
 wearing her heart out in loneliness and lack of auy- 
 ihing to satisfy her soul hunger. It suited him to find 
 the unsightly cabin as neat as soap and water could 
 make it, and well-cooked meals upon the long table 
 that did duty for master and mistress, Mexican and 
 Indian "hands" alike; to see Marian moving about 
 with her graceful step, and face flushed with the 
 warm air of the kitchen ; and he forgot that " man s 
 love is of his life a thing apart, tis woman s whole 
 existence." 
 
 And so he starved her. Yes, I say he starved 
 her ! If he had withheld the food necessary to sustain 
 her drooping body, would not judge and jury have 
 solemnly asserted his guilt in not providing suste 
 nance ? What is the body compared to that mysterious 
 marvel, that breath of life, termed the eoul? And if 
 all that feeds and nourishes this finest, most essential 
 part of humanity is taken away, what ensues but 
 starvation ? In the great recording book, kept by the 
 angels, is marked down case after case of Iran s 
 injustice and shortcoming on points that never come 
 before a mortal tribunal. 
 
 Marian Curtis was not a feeble-minded woman 
 
nor one inclined to fretful complaints. One by one 
 she gave up her cherished hopes and stoutly held on 
 to what was left, until she could no longer avoid see 
 ing that the glamour of sentiment existing for a brief 
 period after their union had entirely passed away 
 from her husband. She tried not to doubt his affection 
 for her, but something was lacking something so 
 very vital that each day was a renewed disappoint 
 ment, and her unhappiness constantly increased. 
 She did not let him go without a struggle. Longing 
 for a tender caress, anxious to show her depth of love, 
 she often laid her arm about his neck, or paused to 
 give him a gentle kiss, only to be pained afresh by the 
 carelessness with which her endearments were 
 received. There was no more heart talk between 
 them, no quick responsiveness of the soul. Harvey 
 was seldom cross with her, though inconsiderate fre 
 quently. The trouble was that she was simply a 
 housekeeper. 
 
 What had she to atone for her deprivations ? The 
 nearest postoffice or church was at San Diego ; there 
 were no neighbors within a mile on either hand. The 
 first one toward town conducted an apiary, and was a 
 crusty old bachelor, who seldom showed his face in 
 Shut-in-Valley. The nearest one in the other direction 
 was a soured, ignorant man, whose wife had left him, 
 and who spent his time pattering over a small ranch 
 
in the valley above. There was nothing fresh to 
 read, except an occasional package of papers well out 
 of date by the time they were obtained from the post- 
 office. 
 
 She could not ride, for the horses were always 
 busy in the fields, hauling wood from the mountain 
 side, or on the road to town with a heavy load. She 
 soon tired of walking up and down the one white road 
 of the valley, bordered on either side by waving wheat 
 and barley ; and she missed the beautiful clumps of 
 live-oak trees that had been felled to give place to the 
 monotonous stretch of grain. The original owner of 
 the ranch had apparently taken considerable pains to 
 build the shelter that served him for a home, as remote 
 as possible from any shade except that cast upon it by 
 the overhanging heights when the sun was still high 
 in the heavens, where it remained with its chilling 
 influence until a new day was far advanced. Marian 
 did not object to the cold nights, but welcomed the 
 creeping shadow as a relief from the intensity of the 
 mid-day heat which fell unobstructed upon the frail 
 cabin. The first time that she yielded to a passionate 
 desire to scale what she grew to consider her " prison 
 walls," and see what lay beyond, she was so terror- 
 stricken by the sight of a great rattlesnake lying 
 across her path that she never ventured again. And 
 so her life became hemmed in until the exasperated 
 
- 15- 
 
 spirit beat exhaustingly against the earthly frame 
 that confined it, and, unnoticed by her busy husband, 
 Marian failed daily. Not in the way that had been 
 apprehended when she left the East, for the health- 
 giving atmosphere of California had long ago cured 
 the incipient cough, but in a puzzling, almost imper 
 ceptible manner that would have occasioned anxiety 
 on the part of a close observer. 
 
 One day Harvey and his crew of swarthy-hued 
 " hands " came flocking into the long, low kitchen and 
 found no supper ready. Astonished search in every 
 nook of the limited quarters revealed no wife. She 
 couldn t have " gone a-gaddin , like housewives in 
 thickly settled communities, and it wasn t like her to 
 remain away from her post for any cause. Harvey 
 went out to the road and shouted at the top of his 
 lungs. Nothing but an echo answered him. 
 
 Beginning to be alarmed, he sent the men out in 
 various directions to look for Marian, taking himself 
 the winding road that led down the canon to Simms 
 apiary; here were trees and, at this season, bright 
 flowers in the canon, and possibly Marian had gone 
 thither to gather a bouquet, and had met with some 
 mishap. He had not walked far when he heard some 
 one shouting for him to return. " Oh, she has come," 
 he said to himself. " What a simpleton I was to get 
 frightened about nothing." 
 
i6 
 
 " Sacaton has found her, down by the pool," said 
 his up-valley neighbor, " old Miggs," who was helping 
 Curtis harvest his wheat. 
 
 Wh-what s the matter?" stammered the now 
 thoroughly aroused husband, striding post haste along 
 the diminutive stream that flowed at the rear of the 
 cabin, to where it fell half a dozen feet and widened 
 into a shallow basin fringed with willows. It was the 
 one spot in all the neighborhood that reminded Marian 
 of New England, and she often sat dreamily watching 
 the water as it trickled over the mossy stones, and lis 
 tened to its music while it flowed onward to the gentle 
 Sweet Water, far below Shut-in-Valley, thence to be 
 carried to the mighty Pacific. 
 
 Sacaton one of the half-breeds had sometimes 
 seen her sitting there, and at once sought the pool, to 
 find a white-faced woman lying prone upon the ground, 
 as oblivious to what was passing around her as the 
 dead. Harvey Curtis did not know but that she was 
 dead when he caught sight of that inanimate face, 
 and noted the needle-work at her feet. No one could 
 look at that drawn countenance and fancy its owner 
 sleeping. What could it be ? She had made no com 
 plaints at noon, hadn t said much, anyway, Harvey 
 remembered vaguely, but seemed about as usual. 
 " As usual ! " how many heart-breaks are covered by 
 that stereotyped phrase ! 
 
17 
 
 "My God! " he cried, ere he fairly reached his 
 wife, "old Miggs " scrambling after and the half- 
 breeds gathering around in respectful solicitude. " Do 
 you suppose a rattler has stiuck her?" Harvey 
 raised the light figure and gazed widly into the pallid 
 face. "No," asserted Miggs; "that ain t no snake 
 bite. She d be all swoll d up an blacker n a thunder 
 cloud. She s swounded." 
 
 It was such a swoon as Harvey had never seen 
 before. He worked long and vainly to restore con 
 sciousness after he laid Marian upon her bed, while 
 Sacaton urged the best horse in the corral to its fleet 
 est speed, commissioned to summon the first physi 
 cian that could be induced to go so far from San 
 Diego. 
 
 When at last her eyelids fluttered and opened for 
 an instant, Harvey s heart went out in a cry of 
 "Marian, darling!" But there was no gleam of 
 responding love in the large eyes, the nerveless hand 
 lay passively in his clasp. A sigh of utter weariness, 
 and again the lids were closed, only the feeble, irregu 
 lar breath testifying that some faint consciousness 
 remained. She did not rouse much during the night. 
 At daybreak a physician arrived, guided along the 
 dangerous grades by the faithful Sacaton. He 
 remained with his patient until after noon, and talked 
 scientifically about " nervous prostration," " collapse 
 
i8 
 
 of the vital forces," etc., expressing his belief that 
 she would " pull through" with careful nursing; it 
 Wasn t medicine she needed so much as rest and ten 
 der care. He would send out Miss , the best 
 
 nurse in the town and a creditable nurse for any town, 
 and she d build Mrs. Curtis right up. " So chirk up, 
 man," the doctor cried cheerfully, mounting his tall, 
 white horse. " She s down flat, sure enough, but 
 tisn t as though she was wild with fever or gone with 
 some organic disease There s been too much strain 
 upon her, and she s given away, that s all." 
 
 Harvey did not seem to understand the doctor s 
 reasoning. He had not been aware of any particular 
 strain thought, on the whole, Marian had an easier 
 time of it than he did. To be sure, she wasn t weaned 
 from New England yet and she was lonesome some 
 times, but that didn t seem sufficient to account for 
 such a crisis. He was destined to comprehend in 
 some measure what his wife had passed through, in 
 the next two weeks ; for, although the nurse came at 
 once and took up her duties with the skill of a master 
 hand, Harvey was too anxious about this new, strange 
 being, that was a very wraith of the old Marian, to 
 stay away from her long, and in her weakness and but 
 partial sensibility words dropped from her lips that 
 had never before found utterance. She moaned about 
 the " old times," the gray-haired father and mother, 
 
19 
 
 the sweet-scented forests and murmuring streams of 
 loved " Yankee-land." She hopelessly referred to their 
 life in Shut-in-Valley and said it was not worth the 
 struggle and that she did not want to live. 
 
 One day Harvey sat beside her, thinking very 
 intently of her broken sentences, and questioning if 
 he had really been blind to what should have been 
 his dearest interest. Marian suddenly opened her 
 eyes and as suddenly spoke out, more clearly and 
 forcibly than since her illness began. " Why did you 
 stop loving me? " she queried. 
 
 Harvey stared at her in amazement. "My dear, 
 what a strange question ! I love you with all my 
 heart." 
 
 "No you don t," Marian persisted querulously; 
 " if you did you d show it. I m tired of being a 
 machine, to plod along here without any heart or 
 soul. I want to be petted sometimes and cared for, 
 and treated as if nobody could take my place. I 
 didn t think this was what you married me for." She 
 could say no more ; her momentary strength was 
 gone, and she lay sobbing childishly, heedless of his 
 attempts to comfort her, his earnest assertion that no 
 one ever could take her place. 
 
 The nurse came in and ordered him away, but 
 he took with him a host of disturbing thoughts, and 
 for several days went around in silence, until he 
 
20 
 
 acknowledged himself guilty of much that his wife 
 had alleged. Brought face to face with the possibility 
 of losing her, he realized how valueless everything else 
 in life was, after all, compared with her, and resolved 
 that he would begin at once to do all that lay in his 
 power to obliterate the impressions of the past years 
 Dormant emotions now rose triumphant over all that 
 had previously actuated him, and in his courting 
 days he had not felt more anxious to win Marian s 
 favor than now that she lay a wreck of her former 
 self in that little cabin at Shut-in-Valley. It was 
 difficult at first to convince her of his affection and 
 penitence for the past. She did not appear to hear 
 half that he said, and laughed scornfully when he 
 did gain her attention. But as she improved in mind 
 and body, she noticed that a strong arm was ready to 
 support her, a kind voice soothed her when she was 
 restless, and soft kisses frequently fell upon her brow. 
 Gradually a sense of happiness, of satisfaction, stole 
 into her heart. Her eyes grew bright, her cheeks 
 flushed faintly as she gazed upon her husband s face 
 and saw the light of love there. The incubus that 
 had rested upon her rolled away and dissolved like a 
 vapor. It was worth while to be sick, she thought, 
 just to lie there and be made much of, like an over 
 grown baby. 
 
 This was several years ago. San Diego is a 
 
21 
 
 thriving place now, and growing rapidly. The coun 
 try is settled up with intelligent farmers. Many a 
 beautiful home is nestled amid fragrant orange trees 
 and surrounded by a wealth of exquisite flowers. 
 Shut-in-Valley has not changed in appearance much, 
 on the whole, yet there have been many improve 
 ments. The old cabin has disappeared. Shaded by 
 graceful pepper trees, stands a pretty cottage with 
 broad verandas covered with clinging vines and a 
 profusion of roses. All around are fruit trees of many 
 varieties. Within are dainty rooms, a small piano, 
 and a goodly number of books and periodicals. Out 
 in the stable a sturdy Indian pony is munching 
 his barley, preparatory to taking his mistress on 
 a long jaunt over the hills. A veritable little cay- 
 euse is he trustworthy on the steepest -trails and 
 fond of following Marian about when allowed to go 
 loose. Marian is not unhappy now, even on this 
 secluded ranch. She does not expect to live there 
 always, and in many ways she and Harvey contrive 
 to bring diversion and pleasure into their routine of 
 existence. Though Harvey is not so well constituted 
 as some men, perhaps, to discern the inmost recesses 
 of her nature, he is true and honest and loving, and 
 finds it so pleasant to demonstrate his affection for 
 Marian s pleasure that he could no longer be happy 
 himself without so doing. 
 
22 
 
 " After all, life hi Shut in-Valley is real enjoy 
 able," said Marian, the other day, as they galloped 
 down the road to the cottage and a bevy of excited 
 dogs rushed to greet them. " I just love these grand 
 old mountains now, and when father and mother come 
 out next winter they ll hardly know me, I ve grown 
 so well and yes, so brown, a-ranching it. Won t 
 it be nice if we can induce them to stay?" 
 
A STRIKE FOR EIGHT HOURS. 
 
 carpenters struck for eight hours to-night, 
 1 Martha. There ll be no more work done till 
 the builders come to our terms." 
 
 Mrs. Dayton looked across the table at her hus 
 band, with a dubious expression on her face. 
 
 Do you think they will give in ? I am afraid 
 you will be out of work some time " 
 
 " I don t care if I am ; eight hours are enough for 
 anybody to work, and it s time the people who have 
 to do the labor of this world showed some spunk and 
 rebelled against being tied down to one eternal grind." 
 
 " But you will lose three dollars a day, and we 
 don t want to run in debt. Mouths must be fed, you 
 know, just the same, and the children s shoes " 
 
 " There you go, borrowing trouble right and left ! 
 What s the use of trying to cross a bridge before you 
 come to it ? I guess there will be a way provided." 
 
 Mrs. Dayton said no more, but she looked anx 
 ious as she cleared away the tea things, put the chil 
 dren to bed, and finally sat down to a big basket of 
 mending, just as her husband s snores began to pene- 
 
 (23) 
 
24 
 
 trate the sitting-room from the adjoining bedroom. 
 She was very tired, but she could not think of going 
 to bed before 1 1 o clock. There was always just so 
 much to be done, and only one pair of hands to do 
 it all. 
 
 Eight hours a day s work ! Mrs. Dayton smiled 
 grimly. What would become of the work in that 
 house if she " rebelled against being tied down to one 
 eternal grind?" Six children, the eldest but twelve 
 years of age, the youngest an ailing baby whom she 
 sometimes feared did not receive due attention, with 
 so many other cares devolving upon her from early 
 morning until late at night ; and Mrs. Dayton was not 
 robust never had been. She could not "turn off" 
 her work as some women do, but she did the best she 
 could, without complaining. 
 
 " If Silas has made up his mind not to go back 
 to work, nothing I can say will change it," she mused. 
 "There s one good thing about it if he is going to 
 be at home, he can help me in a number of ways." 
 
 Comforted a little by this reflection, she plied her 
 needle with renewed vigor, and at last crept wearily 
 into bed, partially arousing her husband, who mut 
 tered, testily, "Don t talk to me! I tell you, eight 
 hours are enough," then turned over and started a 
 new series of snores. 
 
 " Do you mind holding baby a few minutes, 
 
-25 - 
 
 Silas, while I skim the milk?" queried Mrs. Dayton, 
 after breakfast the next morning. 
 
 Silas had settled himself into his chair with the 
 air of a man who has all day before him and owns no 
 man for a master. 
 
 "Hold baby!" he ejaculated. " Do you think 
 I m here to do women s work? I guess when I get a 
 day off I m going to enjoy it." 
 
 " He s sick with a tooth coming through, or I 
 shouldn t have asked it. I really don t know how I 
 can attend to my work and care for him as I ought. 
 There, there, poor little dear, don t cry." 
 
 " Well, if this is the sort of racket I ve got to lis 
 ten to, I ll clear out. Great Scott ! just hear him 
 yell ! I thought I was going to have a little peace in 
 my own house. You needn t wait dinner for me I 
 don t know when I ll get back." 
 
 The irate man hurriedly got out his fishing tackle 
 and strode off to the nearest wharf. The Daytons 
 lived on the outskirts of a large seaport, had their own 
 little cottage, a cow and chickens, and were altogether 
 very pleasantly situated. Mr. Dayton was a good 
 husband in most respects, and would have stared in 
 amazement if any one had suggested that he was not 
 always perfectly kind to his wife. He was thought 
 less, like many other men who do not stop to consider 
 how manifold the duties of a housekeeper are. He 
 
26 
 
 would have scouted the notion that his wife worked 
 harder than he did, and the idea of lightening her 
 burdens in any way had never occurred to him. 
 
 Mrs. Dayton had trained her children to be use 
 ful to some extent, but the oldest was a boy, and his 
 ten-year-old sister could only render some assistance 
 in dressing the little ones mornings, and do a few 
 chores after school at night. The week passed by, and 
 Mrs. Dayton was disappointed in her hope of deriv 
 ing any benefit from her husband s idleness. If she 
 asked him to repair something about the house he 
 would do it to-morrow, but to-morrow came and it 
 was not done. When churning-time came he was not 
 to be found. He never seemed to notice when she 
 lifted heavy kettles of water or emptied the wash-tubs, 
 and she strained her arms as usual putting up the 
 clothes-line. Seeing how disinclined he was to have 
 anything to do with the domestic affairs,, she ceased 
 asking for his help. 
 
 Silas Dayton was enjoying his vacation. He was 
 a good workman and he meant to make the most of 
 his leisure ; so he read and he smoked, took naps in 
 the hammock and indulged in long gossips over the 
 fence with neighbor Jones, a professional man whose 
 office hours were short. Did you ever notice how 
 fond the average man is of gossip ? He likes to have 
 his fling about the chattering of women, but at heart 
 
-27- 
 
 he relishes a bit of news. When Almira Smith 
 becomes engaged to be married, or her father sells his 
 pasture lot, or Jim Downs gets a clerkship in a store, 
 he is always glad to hear about it, andftwo men can 
 beat any two women of my acquaintance in holding* a 
 protracted sidewalk meeting. 
 
 Martha Dayton lay awake nights and thought. 
 Saturday morning she arose with an unaccustomed 
 look of determination on her face. In a way that 
 ordinarily~mild women sometimes have, she had sud 
 denly become firm as a rock in her resolution to adopt 
 a new course of conduct. " I ll begin at 6 o clock," 
 she said to herself. The work was accomplished 
 magically that day ; every step was made to count, 
 every minute was used to advantage. By 3 o clock 
 the house was in order and a generous baking adorned 
 the pantry shelves. 
 
 Half an hour later Mr. Dayton came in and found 
 his wife sitting in the parlor, with her new gingham 
 dress on, reading the morning paper, while the baby 
 crowed on a rug at her feet. 
 
 l< Expecting company?" he inquired. 
 
 " No, I m just resting." 
 
 It was something new^for Martha Dayton to be 
 " resting " in the daytime, and it had been years since 
 she had " fixed up " like that, except on the rare 
 occasions when she went out somewhere. 
 
When the supper was served, Mr. Dayton missed 
 some of the usual accessories of the meal. No hot 
 biscuit, no baked potatoes or nicely broiled chops 
 nothing warm but the tea, which had been made on 
 the oil stove. 
 
 "How s this?" he grumbled. "Ain t you cut 
 ting us short to-night with your cold victuals ? I like 
 a hot supper." 
 
 " Oh, I ve struck," replied Mrs. Dayton in a 
 serio-comic tone. " I ve come to your conclusion 
 that eight hours are enough for any one to work, and 
 that it is time to rebel against an eternal grind. It 
 will necessitate some changes, but since you are 
 firmly convinced of the right of the matter, of course 
 you will be willing to put up with the inconvenience 
 of it, as I have to with the loss of your wages on 
 account of the same principle." That was a long 
 speech for Martha Dayton to make. Silas glared at 
 her with open mouth. She looked smiling and at 
 ease, not at all as if she were bereft of her senses. It 
 wasn t like her to joke, but she must be " running " 
 now. Trying to be smart, eh.? He didn t quite 
 like it. 
 
 " What rigmarole are you getting off now? 1 he 
 said rather roughly. "If you took a lazy streak and 
 didn t want to cook a good supper, why don t you 
 come right out and say so, not throw up that eight- 
 
-29- 
 
 hour business to me? Man s work isn t woman s 
 work. You just attend to your cooking and baby- 
 tending, and I ll see to my carpentering." 
 
 " You think I don t mean it, Silas, but I do. My 
 work is just as hard as yours, and more wearing to 
 the nerves. Hereafter I shall consider eight hours of 
 constant labor a day s work, and outside of that I 
 shall do only what can not be avoided. A woman 
 needs time for rest and recreation just as much as a 
 man does, and the way I have been living it has been 
 impossible to be anything more than a mere house 
 keeping machine. I should like to improve my mind 
 a little." 
 
 "You ain t turning woman suffragist, I hope. 
 I ll bet that Miss Skinner has been talking to you." 
 Miss Skinner was a somewhat noted platform speaker 
 who lived near the Daytons. 
 
 " No one has been talking to me, and this has 
 nothing to do with suffrage. It seems that when you 
 said people you meant men, giving no thought to 
 women ; but I fail to see why they should not be 
 included in the labor question." 
 
 Mrs. Dayton had not been a self-assertive woman, 
 and her husband gave but little thought to her unex 
 pected outbreak. He attributed it to a " cantanker 
 ous spell " which would not last long. A strike of 
 housekeepers ! Refusal to work more than eight 
 
- 30 - 
 
 hours a day ! It was absurd, ridiculous. I am not 
 sure but Silas Dayton went farther in his thoughts 
 and pronounced it lazy; for what did woman s work 
 amount to, anyhow, compared to the hard tussles of 
 a man with the world ? 
 
 The subject was not mentioned the next morn 
 ing, when they partook of the usual Sunday break 
 fast of beans and brown bread. Mr. Dayton, who 
 was not in the habit of attending church, started out 
 for a stroll about town. Mrs. Dayton very seldom 
 went, as she generally had a baby too small to leave. 
 To please Silas, it was her custom to prepare the 
 most bountiful meal of the week for Sunday after 
 noon, and the day of rest often left her so fatigued 
 that it was an effort to begin anew on Monday morn- 
 ing. If any one called, she was not fit to receive 
 them in her working garb and with her heated face. 
 
 It was nearly three o clock when Silas returned. 
 "Who has he brought home now?" wondered the 
 little woman as she heard strange voices. Silas often 
 brought people home with him to the , Sunday dinner ; 
 he was hospitable, and he knew that there would be 
 an abundance of good things^to eat. 
 
 " I ran across my old friend Jabez- Hunter and 
 his wife, he explained, as Martha went into the front 
 hall. " Haven t seen them for years. They ve got a 
 farm only twenty miles from here, it seems, and 
 
they ve been to town time and again, and didn t 
 know we were living here." 
 
 Martha was shaking hands with a stout, fresh- 
 faced man and a large, comfortable-looking woman, 
 and Jabez was declaring that he knew Si. in a minute* 
 and he was mighty glad to see Si s wife and the 
 babies. 
 
 " Si. haint changed hardly any," he continued, 
 " but you ain t lookin well. Kind o dragged out, 
 ain t ye ? Better come out to the farm ; we ll fat 
 you up." 
 
 Silas was secretly pleased to see that his wife 
 was neatly dressed, and seemed less "put out" than 
 usual by company. Jabez Hunter had been one of 
 his best friends in the old days, and now that Jabez 
 had the air of being well used by the world, Silas was 
 anxious to have his wife, children and home appear 
 in a favorable light. 
 
 Soon Mrs. Dayton called them into the dining- 
 room where the long table was spread, and the child 
 ren already seated in their places, the baby industri 
 ously drumming with a spoon on his waiter. With 
 pride, Silas named his boys and girls, who were 
 embarrassed just enough to make their behavior 
 unobtrusive. 
 
 " By George, Si, you re a rich man with such a 
 family as this, ".exclaimed Jabez. "Don t it do your 
 
32 
 
 heart good to look around and see em ? I tell Lucy 
 sometimes its pretty lonesome for us out on that big 
 farm where youngsters would have such a good time. 
 Wouldn t you like to go fishing in my trout brook, 
 young man ? " addressing Jack, the oldest boy. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the boy, with a broad grin. 
 By this time all were settled, and Silas face wore a 
 look of blank astonishment and dismay. Cold meat, 
 cold bread, berries, cake and a cold custard pudding. 
 
 " My wife, it seems, has made a change in the 
 bill of fare," he finally said ill-humoredly ; " we are 
 in the habit of having a good Sunday dinner." 
 
 " I don t see anything the matter with this," 
 declared Mrs. Hunter. 
 
 " Silas has forgotten that I ve struck," said Mrs. 
 Dayton. " I ve adopted the eight hour plan, and no 
 unnecessary work on Sunday. Men don t work Sun 
 days why should women when they can avoid it ? " 
 
 Silas face was red with suppressed wrath. A 
 pretty impression of things his friends would get ! 
 
 Jabez Hunter gazed at Mrs. Dayton admiringly. 
 Given half a chance, she would be a pretty woman. 
 
 " What s that ? " he chuckled. " Struck? Come 
 now, that s good. Why shouldn t women strike as 
 well as men? I m sure they have more to put up 
 with. I hain t never let my wife grub all day long 
 and half the night as lots of em do. Have I, L,ucy ? 
 
-33- 
 
 And Sundays we don t do nothin at our house that 
 we can git out of." 
 
 " Half the time we make our dinner on bread and 
 milk Sundays," said Mrs. Hunter, smilingly. " I m 
 bound to have one day in the week when I ain t tied 
 to the kitchen." 
 
 " Your wife must have a pile of work to do, Si, 
 with all these youngsters ; it s enough to make her 
 look peaked. Lucy finds chores enough on the farm, 
 but we hain t no children and I help her considerable. 
 I s pose you re handy in the house when you re out 
 o work, ain t ye, Si ? " 
 
 Silas face was a study. Mr. Hunter continued, 
 as he took another slice of cold lamb : 
 
 " You d laugh, I expect, to see me with one of 
 Lucy s big aprons on wipin dishes or turnin the 
 wringer. I s pose I do cut a figger, but it reminds 
 me of the time when I used to ketch Lucy unawares 
 a makin pies or somethin before we was married, 
 an she used to git my face all flour behind the pan 
 try door." 
 
 " Law, now, Jabez, ain t you ashamed?" Mrs. 
 Hunter s face was rosy. 
 
 " I like to think of them old courtin days, don t 
 you, Si?" 
 
 Tears sprang into Mrs. Dayton s eyes; she did 
 not look at her husband. He mumbled an inarticu- 
 
-34- 
 
 late answer. The children were delighted with the 
 turn of the conversation ; such a jolly fellow had not 
 visited them for many a day. 
 
 " I made up my mind when I got married that 
 my wife wa n t goin to be drove to death. I d got 
 her an I meant to take care of her an keep her. 
 Seems s though some men took partic lar pains to git 
 their wives out o the way so they could git another. 
 I ain t anxious for No. 2. Lucy don t look s though 
 she was fadin away, does she? Tipped the scales at 
 one hundred an ninety-five pounds (stop yer nudgin , 
 Lucy) the other day." 
 
 Jabez beamed affectionately on his discomfited 
 spouse, the children tittered and Mrs. Dayton 
 ventured to smile across the table at her unusually 
 silent husband. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Dayton, I don t blieve you weigh 
 much mor n a hundred pounds. Looks to me like 
 you was pretty near tired out an needed a change. 
 Bundle her up, Si, with her babies, an send her out 
 to the farm. You can git along without her a spell 
 better n you can spare her for good. I don t b lieve 
 you want a No. 2 to mother all these youngsters." 
 
 Silas found his tongue and a chance to use it at 
 last, and the conversation drifted into other channels. 
 Sooner than any of them desired, the time came 
 when the Hunters were obliged to leave, and the 
 
-35- 
 
 Daytons were left with the feeling that a warm, invig 
 orating rift of sunshine had been let into their lives. 
 Evidently Silas had " food for thought " that evening, 
 and it was he who lay awake that night, and his wife 
 who slept. When she was ready to begin her washing 
 the next morning, she found her tubs filled with 
 water and the clothes-line ready for use. Volumes 
 could not have told her more than those two simple 
 acts did. In the afternoon, as she sat making aprons 
 for the children, Silas said: " If you want to go out 
 to the farm, Martha, I think likely I can get Mandy 
 Johnson to come and keep house." 
 
 "But the children?" 
 
 " You can take the baby and Freddy and Stella, 
 and the rest will get along all right going to school 
 here." So it was arranged. 
 
 When Mrs. Dayton returned, almost a new 
 woman, she found that a compromise had been 
 effected and Silas was working. She did not attempt 
 to keep up her own strike, but life was henceforward 
 made easier for her. She hiied help on extra hard 
 occasions, many little things that had been expected 
 of her were omitted, and Silas, now that his eyes 
 were opened, found that he could save his wife from 
 backaches and help her to get a leisure hour in ways 
 that detracted not a whit from his manliness. The 
 time came when he said to her: "That was a cute 
 
- 3 6- 
 
 idea of yours, Martha that strike for eight hours. I 
 was mad at the time, but when I saw how much 
 better Jabez Hunter treated his wife than I did you, 
 it made me feel that maybe I hadn t been doing right ; 
 I guess I think as much of you as he does of Lucy, 
 and I mean to give you as good a show as I can." 
 
 " I am satisfied," said Martha, looking lovingly 
 at her husband; " but I was not before my strike. I 
 was really getting vicious. We are lots happier now, 
 aren t we? " 
 
 " I only wish all strikes might end as well as 
 yours did." 
 
HEARTS ARK TRUMPS. 
 
 MRS. BELKNAP had led a nomadic life since the 
 death of her husband, flitting from place to 
 place as fancy suggested. 
 
 lyonely ? Yes, but Mrs. Belknap was accustomed 
 to loneliness. She had been lonely as a child in her 
 cheerless country home, and she had been still more 
 lonely as a wife when long miles intervened between 
 her and all the associations of early years, and an 
 impassable gulf separated her husband s soul from 
 her own. 
 
 With the large ideality of youth, she had invested 
 the man of her choice with qualities he did not pos 
 sess ; moreover, she was one of those who do not grow 
 into a realization of their capabilities and needs until 
 late in life. Every year took her farther away from 
 her husband and made the void in her life greater. 
 The finer, better part of nature that which was 
 dearest and most essential to her was entirely with 
 out companionship, in fact was scarcely recognized by 
 him who should have been most appreciative of it. 
 Can woman endure a worse solitude than this ? She 
 
 (3?) 
 
-33 
 
 tried to bear her lot heroically, and no one knew what 
 bitter waters she passed through ; but she felt that the 
 blessedness of life had never touched her. The hardest 
 of all lessons to learn was resignation ; the utmost 
 fortitude was required for her to lace the prospect of 
 never living as God knew that she could live. 
 
 There was more than this to make her unhappy ; 
 her husband s habits would have justified a divorce, 
 but she shrank from taking legal proceedings against 
 him, and continued on her troubled way until Provi 
 dence settled the matter by suddenly terminating the 
 earthly career of Mr. Belknap. 
 
 The first winter thereafter she spent in Florida, 
 the second found her in California. Early in Febru 
 ary she took up her quarters in L,os Angeles, where 
 already roses in countless variety were blooming, and 
 long rows of stately callas defied frosts as they up 
 turned their white chalices to the sunny skies. 
 
 For some weeks Alice Belknap felt the charm of 
 this genial climate as she walked beneath the over 
 hanging pepper trees, their graceful, ferny branches 
 relieved by clusters of scarlet berries, and noted the 
 beauty all around her. It was a pleasure to breathe 
 the pure, soft air, and night brought a refreshing 
 coolness provocative to slumber. Then gradually the 
 old spirit of unrest came upon her the old revolt 
 against her destiny. The flower-decked cottage homes, 
 
39 
 
 more than the pretentious mansions, accentuated her 
 own solitariness. She was lonely still. 
 
 The only remedy for this condition of mind she 
 had found to be change of scene. " I will go to Santa 
 Monica," she resolved one day ; " the sea will suit niy 
 mood." She forthwith ensconced herself at the Hotel 
 Arcadia, upon the very edge of the bluff, overlooking 
 a grand curve of shore and sweep of sandy beach. 
 The hotel was fairly filled with guests, who made the 
 house lively with hops and other diversions. Mrs. 
 Belknap might have joined the merry-makers, for she 
 had at her command the " open sesame " to social cir 
 cles a generous bank account ; but of this fact no one 
 was aware. The greater part of her life had been a 
 struggle with insufficient means, and she knew well 
 how one s best energies are cramped by poverty, how 
 the needs of one s soul are trampled upon by stern 
 necessity, yet she never could become a worshipper 
 of Mammon. Society had but little attraction for her ; 
 the intellectual life offered pleasure beyond the ken 
 of devotees of fashion. Literature, art, music 
 these were things worth living for if one were not 
 always alone ! 
 
 It had been a fancy of the widow, as she trav 
 eled from place to place, to keep her riches in the 
 background, and win what courtesy and esteem she 
 could solely by her personality. She therefore dressed 
 
- 4 o 
 
 plainly and dispensed with luxuries, but she did not 
 forget to quietly assist many an unfortunate person 
 who came in her way. The guests of the Arcadia 
 paid but little attention to the new-comer, though 
 there was some puzzling over her on the part of a 
 few gentlemen who observed the poise of her manner 
 and the inscrutable look in her eyes. 
 
 One breezy afternoon Mrs. Belknap was return 
 ing from a stroll up the beach, dividing her atten 
 tion between the incoming tide, which narrowly 
 escaped wetting her feet more than once, and Mrs. 
 CUvSter s last book. She loved to read of that happy 
 wedded life upon the plains a perfect illustration of 
 the ease with which true love overcomes obstacles 
 and endures hardship for the sake of remaining near 
 the beloved object. " How rich that faithful little 
 woman was," she thought; "how blest with such a 
 strong, cheery, brave, tender and affectionate nature 
 beside her ! What did it matter how or where they 
 lived?" 
 
 Her eyes grew moist with sympathy for the 
 dauntless woman s unspeakable loss. A gust of 
 wind fluttered the leaves of her book and something 
 white flew past her eyes. Looking up quickly, she 
 saw slips of paper scattered over the sand and one 
 lying in the edge of the water. In another moment 
 it would be carried out by the receding wave. In a 
 
nook formed by a bend of the bluff, a man was rising 
 to his feet with some difficulty, it appeared, as he 
 leaned upon a stout cane evidently the scribbler, 
 for more slips lay about him and chagrin was upon 
 his face. Mrs. Belknap deftly secured the soaked 
 paper and had gathered up most of the others by the 
 time the stranger reached her. 
 
 " Yours? " she queried, brightly. 
 
 " Yes; a thousand times obliged," he replied, as 
 he took them from her. " They are of no great 
 value, still I should be sorry to lose them." 
 
 " Wind and wave are treacherous here as else 
 where," she responded lightly. 
 
 "Yet we must admit that there is a great dif 
 ference between the sturdy blasts of northern 
 climes and the soft zephyrs of this semi-tropic 
 region ; between the white crests of the Atlantic 
 and the peaceful azure of the Pacific. Fancy, now, 
 sojourning at any of the Eastern beaches in this 
 month of March." 
 
 " It would be idyllic, surely. There is another 
 difference between the two great oceans that is in 
 favor of the stormier one. The Atlantic is covered 
 with life. Anywhere along the shore you may see 
 sails of different descriptions, furnishing unlimited 
 material for conjecture as to their freight of human 
 ity. This calm expanse is unutterably lonely; the 
 
effect is depressing, unless one can lose one s self in 
 contemplation of its grandeur." 
 
 " It gives me inspiration." 
 
 "You are a writer a poet, perhaps? Pardon 
 me," as she noted a shade of embarrassment upon the 
 countenance before her. 
 
 " Scarcely a writer certainly not a poet. I 
 have tried to cultivate the faculty of expression since 
 I was put hors de combat} 
 
 Mrs. Belknap looked her interest. The gentle 
 man was evidently an invalid; he was rather slightly 
 built, hardly medium height, and his face was pale. 
 A broad, intellectual brow, and clear, gray eyes 
 redeemed his face from absolute plainness and gave 
 it force. One felt that this man was stronger men 
 tally and morally than he was physically. 
 
 "Allow me," he added, handing her a card. 
 " May I know to whom I am indebted for the rescue 
 of my manuscript?" 
 
 Smilingly, Mrs. Belknap took a card from the 
 embroidered bag hanging on her arm. 
 
 Lifting his hat, the stranger bowed, and stood 
 looking after her as she returned to the hotel. 
 
 So this man and woman met, in that mysterious 
 entangling of paths that is the fate of mankind, for 
 good or for ill, who shall at the time determine? 
 Many interviews followed. John Manning, like Mrs. 
 
-43 ~ 
 
 Belknap, was unconventional, and a stranger in a 
 strange land. When he found his new acquaintance 
 sitting apart on the veranda after dinner that even 
 ing, he walked directly over to her and engaged her 
 in conversation. Mrs. Belknap learned that he was 
 a lawyer by profession, but a severe rheumatic fever 
 had left him with troubles that bade fair to become 
 chronic. For a year he had been in quest of health. 
 He had tried the hot springs of the South and the 
 dry air of Colorado and New Mexico. If the famous 
 climate of California did not work a cure, he sup 
 posed he could only resign himself to the inevitable. 
 
 " It is not easy," he added, with a bitter smile, 
 "for a naturally active man to sit and do nothing, 
 especially if he has not previously made his fortune. 
 For those reasons, I have turned my attention to lit 
 erature, but I have not got beyond a little newspaper 
 and magazine work yet." 
 
 It was an unusual thing for John Manning to 
 speak of himself and his circumstances. The influence 
 of a sympathetic presence is great, and he had an idea 
 that this lady was no better endowed with worldly 
 goods than himself. Something that Mrs Belknap 
 said confirmed this idea. She gave him the impres 
 sion that she was spending a brief vacation by the 
 sea, and that soon she must take up the active duties 
 of life. 
 
-44- 
 
 " A working-woman," he thought ; " I know it by 
 her quiet, self-respecting independence." 
 
 Somehow there was a bond of understanding 
 between them from that night. In the days that fol 
 lowed they passed hours in reading or talking together. 
 Evening found them upon the spacious veranda, 
 where the moonlight poured down its mellow rays, 
 watching the gay promenaders upon the beach and 
 the golden pathway upon the shimmering water. 
 Mrs. Belknap s avoidance of the lively crowd was 
 another proof that she did not belong to that sphere 
 of life. 
 
 " But how vastly superior she is," John Manning 
 thought, " to those thoughtless followers after fashion ! 
 A woman with a history ! It is written upon her face. 
 Can widowhood alone be the cause of that repressed 
 look, that yearning expression that sometimes comes 
 into her eyes? I think not." 
 
 One day they were speaking about the recent 
 marriage of two well-known people a man of fifty- 
 four and a girl of seventeen. " That is the way with 
 you bachelors," Mrs. Belknap said, laughingly ; " when 
 you capitulate, it is most invariably to a young girl. 
 I do not wonder at it, for what is so sweet as a fresh, 
 young creature just budding into womanhood ?" 
 
 " A mature woman s periected soul !" replied 
 John Manning, reverently. "Nothing can surpass it. 
 
45 - 
 
 The freshness of youth is a pretty thing, but it fades 
 away, while the charm that is acquired by the disci 
 pline of experience increases with the advance of 
 time. A woman of spirituality may defy age she 
 will never become uninteresting." 
 
 " That would account for the affection some 
 times felt by men for women much older than them, 
 selves, as that of Mr. Cross for George Eliot. Still 
 it is plain, in the majority of cases, that a passe 
 woman can not hold her own against youth and 
 beauty, no matter how refined or accomplished she 
 may be." 
 
 "Such women as I have in mind never become 
 passe" 
 
 The conversation veered to John s literary work. 
 Mrs. Belknap rejoiced to learn that one of the New 
 York dailies requested regular letters, and a leading 
 magazine had complimented his last article. " This 
 gives me bread and butter," he said, "and heart to 
 work ; but I shall not be satisfied until I write a book ; 
 I have one outlined now, but I can not elaborate it as 
 I am now situated. My income must not stop, and 
 you know that publishing is expensive business." 
 
 " I should like to see your book," Mrs. Belknap 
 said gently ; " perhaps I shall some day." 
 
 Nearly four weeks had passed when she announced 
 that she must return to Los Angeles. A blank look 
 
- 4 6- 
 
 came into John Manning s face ; he had forgotten that 
 the present state of things could not last indefinitely. 
 " Must you go? " 
 
 " I am wanted there," she replied, not adding 
 that some legal business required her attention. 
 
 How unjust it seemed for this woman to be sub 
 servient to people no doubt on a far lower plane of 
 being than herself ! How gladly he would save her, 
 if he could, from the rude knocks of a work-a-day 
 world ! More than ever before he realized that money 
 and labor should be more equally and appropriately 
 distributed. He had thought Bellamy s theories 
 chimerical, but just now if he could avail himself of 
 a generous credit card from the government he would 
 - what ? 
 
 Could he, even then, ask that self-contained, 
 noble-hearted woman to wed such a sorry specimen 
 of manhood as he was ? A creature who poked along 
 like an octogenarian, and groaned if his toe struck a 
 cobblestone ? It would be utter selfishness. 
 
 " We never prize health until we lose it," he 
 sighed ; " I worked hard to build up a good practice, 
 and then, presto ! the scene changed and doctors, 
 drugs and depleted finances became the order of the 
 day. If I had my health and profession back again, 
 do you think I would let that woman go out of my 
 life without an effort to keep her?" This fiercely, as 
 
47 
 
 to an unseen interlocutor. Each discerned a change 
 in the other during the few days that followed. John 
 Manning wanted to speak, but dared not ; Mrs. Bel- 
 knap was distant and silent. 
 
 " This must not be a final good-bye," exclaimed 
 John, as the train was ready to depart. " You will let 
 me call on you in L,os Angeles?" 
 
 " I shall be very glad to see you," she replied, 
 giving him her address 
 
 The annual flower fete at Los Angeles took place 
 in the last week in April a scene out of fairyland. 
 In the evening, when electric lights cast their brilliant 
 rays upon the rainbow-hued exhibits, the sparkling 
 diamonds and rich dress of the fashionable throng 
 that fills the building, the sight is memorable. 
 
 Alice Belknap stood in the broad lower gallery, 
 looking down upon it, when she saw her seaside 
 friend approaching her. As their eyes met, he smiled. 
 There was a cheery, even eager, look upon his face 
 that had not been there when she left him at Santa 
 Monica three weeks before. 
 
 "You are better," she said, as they shook hands. 
 
 " Considerably better," he assented; "it is the 
 first real gain I have noticed. I have been at the 
 Arrowhead hot springs, and found the mud baths 
 really beneficial. But you are you not well?" 
 
 " I am in my usual health." 
 
-48- 
 
 " You look pale ; you must be weary standing. 
 I ve been [hunting for you in the crowd an hour; 
 your landlady told me you were here." 
 
 " I am tired ; I think I will go now." 
 
 John did not ask her permission, but escorted her 
 from the building, which was near her boarding-place. 
 
 " Don t go home yet," he pleaded. l< The night 
 is mild, and there are plenty of seats in this pretty 
 little park. I want to talk with you." 
 
 Nothing was said, however, for some minutes. 
 Mrs. Belknap leaned her head against the iron chair- 
 back and gazed at the tropical shrubs so clearly out 
 lined in the electric light. John s eyes were on her face. 
 
 He spoke abruptly. " Alice, I love you ! I have 
 not had the least encouragement from you. I am not 
 a strong man or a wealthy one, but I love you ! I have 
 hopes now that I shall regain my health. Tell me, 
 dear, could I make you any happier?" 
 
 Alice s hands trembled, her eyelids quivered ; she 
 did not look up. In a moment she said : 
 
 " You are both strong and wealthy. Strong in 
 those characteristics that make a man worthy of his 
 manhood ; wealthy in those attributes of heart that 
 win the love of woman. Yes, John, you could make 
 me happier." 
 
 Her eyes met his now, and they were filled with 
 the light of a great joy. 
 
49 
 
 The next morning she said to him : " It is I who 
 am selfish in allowing you to marry me instead of a 
 bright young girl. I am very nearly as old as you." 
 
 " I would not have you one day younger. I love 
 you for being exactly what you are. Consider well 
 the risk that you run. What if I should become una 
 ble to work? I should never forgive myself for link 
 ing your lot with mine." 
 
 " Do you not believe that your wife would deem 
 it a privilege to work for you if it should be neces 
 sary ?" 
 
 " I believe that you are constituted to be God s 
 best gift to man a true helpmeet." 
 
 " You will recover your health, I feel sure of it, 
 and you will write your book. I shall be your prime 
 minister in that undertaking. Your hieroglyphics 
 (you do write wretchedly, John, that conies of being 
 a lawyer) will be deciphered and copied by me. I 
 shall read your proof and make myself indispensable 
 generally. No protests ; it will be a delight to me, 
 and there will be the pleasure of refuting Daudet s 
 assertion that intellectual men are hampered by mar 
 riage." 
 
 " I wonder vou don t write a book yourself, such 
 a clever woman as you are." 
 
 " I d much rather have my husband write one. I 
 shall be very proud of you, John." 
 
-50- 
 
 " Little flatterer!" 
 
 In a month they were married ; there was no 
 reason for delay. By mutual desire the honeymoon 
 was spent at the Arcadia. Alice Manning s expres 
 sive face blossomed into beauty under the vivifying 
 influence of love, and her husband counted himself 
 blessed among men. Again they sat watching the 
 beach and the ocean by moonlight ; this time Alice 
 held John s firm, white hand in hers and caressed it 
 as they talked. 
 
 She had many pretty little ways that were a per 
 petual surprise and pleasure to her husband. Depths 
 of tenderness constantly revealed themselves, and 
 John sometimes fancied that in her love was an ele 
 ment of gratitude which sought for every avenue of 
 expression. 
 
 " Now the tide of European travel is at its 
 height," Alice remarked. " Have you ever thought 
 you would like a trip abroad? " 
 
 " I have hoped to be able to go some day." 
 
 " It has always been a dream of mine to go with 
 pleasant company. Suppose we telegraph to New 
 York for passage. I am sure the change would be 
 good for you. The famous German baths may work 
 wonders. Then, wouldn t you enjoy a quiet stay by 
 the charming Swiss lakes, and, possibly, a cruise 011 
 the Mediterranean?" 
 
Was she joking? John looked at his wile in 
 amazement. 
 
 " No, my head is not turned by happiness. I 
 assure you that such a journey is quite within the 
 possibilities. You have only to express your 
 preference." 
 
 John was speechless. " My love, was it very 
 wrong of me to allow you to think me a poor 
 woman? " 
 
 " Then you are rich ! " John s face grew white, 
 and he tried to draw his hand away ; Alice clung to it 
 tightly. 
 
 " At first, it pleased me to keep you in ignorance 
 of my financial independence ; afterward, I dared not 
 tell you, for I knew your pride. You must not sup 
 pose that I feared my money would be a temptation 
 to you. If you had known of it " 
 
 " I should not have asked you to marry me." 
 
 " That absolves me, does it not? " 
 
 John s face was still set with pride. <( I wish it 
 were not so," he said, speaking with difficulty. " You 
 give me everything. I cannot make a fair return." 
 
 " Say not so, John ! I have never told you of my 
 past life. If you knew all, you would realize that 
 your love and protecting tenderness are priceless to 
 me. Does he who feeds a starving person, give 
 nothing? Does the shepherd who takes in his arms 
 
- 52 
 
 a chilled and weary lamb and warms and soothes it, 
 do nothing? My husband, I never lived until now. 
 You have led me out of the horrible wilderness of 
 solitude into the realms of peace and joy. God bless 
 you for it ! " 
 
 Alice s intense, passionate words thrilled John 
 Manning through and through. The glimpse they 
 gave of her unhappy past deepened his tenderness 
 for her. "My poor darling," he murmured, "you 
 know what the world will say." 
 
 " What do we care for the world ? " Tears stood 
 in her eyes now. " In the game of life, hearts should 
 lead, and if they are trumps, they are sure to win. 
 Look at me, John. Are you sorry that you married 
 me?" 
 
 Soul met soul in the gaze that followed, and the 
 question was answered without words. 
 
A MID-DAY CALL AT MINER S FLAT. 
 
 IT wS a broiling day in mid-summer at Miner s Flat. 
 The scorching rays of an Arizona sun mercilessly 
 sought out every nook and corner of the camp, unob 
 structed by shade of any kind. Alice Marriner 
 thought of the hills and dells, the leafy nooks and 
 rippling waters of her old home in New England as 
 she paused for a moment in the kitchen door, and 
 looked out upon the broad and sterile plain where not 
 a single tree relieved the monotony of the landscape. 
 It was a dreary, uninviting spot for a home, and the 
 quick tears sprang to Alice s eyes as a wave of long 
 ing for something different something better than 
 this in life swept over her. But they were speedily 
 brushed away, and the girl turned back to her work 
 in the sweltering little kitchen. " How foolish of 
 me !" she thought. " Haven t I one of the very best 
 brothers in the world? And doesn t he toil from 
 morning till night to give me a home, and deny him 
 self many a pleasure that he could enjoy but for me ? 
 What right have I to complain because we don t live 
 in the pleasantest place in the world and have all the 
 
 (53) 
 
- 54 - 
 
 luxuries of a millionaire? Alice Marriner, thauk 
 your lucky stars that things are no worse, and hurry 
 up with your dinner. Henry will be here in thirty- 
 five minutes as hungry as a bear." 
 
 So, with deft, quick movements, Alice set the 
 potatoes over the fire, gave the savory-smelling roast 
 in the oven a good basting and was "creaming" the 
 butter and sugar for the pudding sauce, when tap, tap, 
 came a knock at the front door. 
 
 "My goodness! Who s that, I wonder?" ex 
 claimed Alice, hastily substituting a clean white apron 
 for her floury kitchen one, and shutting the stove 
 dampers that nothing might burn in her absence. 
 She crossed the little sitting-room, which also served 
 as dining-room and as Henry s bed- room for this was 
 the land of cot-beds and blankets and opened the 
 outer door. 
 
 " Te-he-he !" giggled Miss Laura commonly and 
 appropriately called Lolly Fayette. "Was passing 
 by and thought I d call," with a glance that was cal 
 culated to be bewitching at her companion, a tall, 
 broad-shouldered young fellow in a white suit and 
 Panama hat. 
 
 "I m glad to see you," said Alice, politely. 
 " Walk in, please. Take this rocker, Lolly ; and Mr. 
 Harwood, allow me to relieve you of your hat." 
 
 " Distressingly warm, isn t it ?" languished Miss 
 
55- 
 
 Lolly, plying her fan with as much vigor as she could 
 muster. "I never should have ventured out in such 
 a sun, only Velma Sykes is going away on the noon 
 stage, and I was positively obliged to see her about 
 some things she is going to get for me in San Fran 
 cisco. I met Mr. Harwood, and he was good enough 
 to walk along with me and carry my umbrella. So I 
 told him it was a good time to run in and see you." 
 
 A good time for them, perhaps, but not for Alice, 
 who felt that her face was as red as a lobster with the 
 heat of the cook stove, who had doubts about the 
 smoothness of her hair, and knew that Henry could 
 not wait many minutes for his dinner. But Alice was 
 a real lady, and entertained her callers as gracefully 
 as if their visit were not malapropos. It was not per 
 fectly easy to do this, for Miss Fayette seemed bent 
 upon showing up the discomforts of Alice s life, and 
 Mr. Harwood had never been in the house before. 
 He had not been in Miner s Flat many weeks, and 
 Alice s acquaintance with him was but slight. 
 
 " Mercy me ! how thick the flies are," said Laura, 
 dabbing at one which was endeavoring to get a taste 
 of the " Magnolia Balm " upon her cheek. " I should 
 think they d eat you up." 
 
 "There are a good many this summer," replied 
 Alice, " and we are late about getting our screen 
 doors on. Brother is so tired when he gets home at 
 
- 5 6- 
 
 night. Next week he ll be on the night shift and will 
 have .some leisure through the day." 
 
 " Oh, does he put them on ? We always hire such 
 jobs done, and then the season isn t half over before 
 you ; re fixed up." Alice flushed, but checked the 
 answer that rose to her lips, reflecting that Laura did 
 not realize how impertinent her language was it was 
 her way. But she wished Laura would not say such 
 things before Mr. Harwood He had given Laura a 
 strange look when she made her last speech, and now 
 sat gazing respectfully but critically at Alice. 
 
 " How did you enjoy the festival, Miss Marriner ?" 
 he inquired. 
 
 " Very well, indeed. Everyone was so social, 
 and I so seldom go out in the evening." 
 
 " I don t see what you shut yourself up so for," 
 interrupted Laura. "You re cooking and scrubbing 
 all day, and I should think you d want some recrea 
 tion when night comes. You take in sewing, too, 
 don t you ?" with an inflection that plainly evinced 
 her estimate of such menial employment. 
 
 "Yes, sometimes," replied Alice, quietly, "as I 
 have a good sewing machine, and am anxious to help 
 all I can." 
 
 " Well, if twas me I shouldn t distress myself as 
 long as my brother could support me. It s too hot 
 weather to work. I should think you d roast in a 
 
-57- 
 
 little bit of a house like this," glancing through the 
 half-open door at the kitchen fire. 
 
 "Is not it as hot for my brother as for me?" 
 asked Alice, striving to remain composed. " And he 
 is not strong. Indeed, that is why we came to this 
 Southern country the doctor said he must go away 
 from the cold winters. Henry is just as good to me 
 as he can be, and he is all that I have. I could not 
 rest easy one minute if I did not make his burden as 
 light as possible." 
 
 Alice s head was erect now, and her eyes shone 
 with a steady, loving light. 
 
 Wallace Harwood looked at her admiringly. 
 Laura Fayette saw it it was the very thing she was 
 working against. She had brought Wallace in here 
 on purpose, knowing that he had been very favorably 
 impressed with the gentle, modest girl whom he had 
 met in company a few times, and determined to 
 counteract this impression if she could do so, by 
 showing up the poverty of the Marriners, and Alice s 
 " drudgery " at home. 
 
 Mr. Wallace Harwood was a young man of means, 
 and good looking withal though that was of second 
 ary importance and Miss Laura had designs upon 
 him. 
 
 " I declare, it s your dinner time, ain t it?" as 
 innocently as if she had not been fully aware of it 
 
- 5 8- 
 
 before she knocked at the door. " Don t let us hinder 
 you. For my part, I don t see how you can eat din 
 ner at this time of day. We don t have ours until 
 five o clock." 
 
 " I confess that I prefer dinner at night myself," 
 replied Alice. " But, when a man does hard work, he 
 needs his most substantial meal in the middle of the 
 day." 
 
 " That is so," said Mr. Harwood, " and I am not 
 yet weaned from Yankee customs." 
 
 " Then you are from New England?" ejaculated 
 Alice, breathlessly. " From what part, pray?" 
 
 " From W , Massachusetts." 
 
 " Ah ! And I am from New Hampshire. But 
 Massachusetts is almost equally familiar to me. I 
 have cousins living near W ." 
 
 " May I ask their names?" 
 
 Laura was not at all pleased with Mr. Harwood s 
 tone of interest, or with the turn in the conversation. 
 She had been born and bred on the Pacific coast, and 
 entertained a supreme contempt for everything out 
 side of San Francisco. Alice s answer was checked 
 by the arrival of her brother, who passed the muslin- 
 draped window and proceeded to wash his face and 
 hands at the bench by the kitchen door. Mr. Har 
 wood arose and said , " Do please excuse us for both 
 ering you at this hour. I will inquire about the 
 
59- 
 
 cousins some other time. Come, Miss Fayette, let us 
 give Miss Marriner a chance to give her brother his 
 dinner." 
 
 " Not until I have introduced him to you," 
 entreated Alice, who was in no wise ashamed of her 
 miner brother, despite his blue flannel shirt and ugly 
 overalls. " And won t you both stay to dinner?" 
 
 lyaura declared that it would be utterly impossi 
 ble for her to eat a morsel so soon after breakfast, 
 and Mr. Harwood politely declined. 
 
 " Come in, Henry," called Alice, " I want to see 
 you." 
 
 " Henry " appeared in the doorway a sunburned, 
 honest-faced young man of about twenty-five, whose 
 eyes lighted affectionately as they rested upon his 
 sister. Miss Fayette bowed distantly, and Alice intro 
 duced the young men to each other. They shook 
 hands cordially,, and presently Henry supplemented 
 his sister s invitation for the callers to remain to din 
 ner, while Alice, warned by the advancing hand of the 
 clock, began to spread the table. The visitors still 
 declined, however, and bowed themselves out, L,aura 
 urging Alice, with hypocritical ardor, to come and 
 see her often. Alice flew around like a bird, and soon 
 had the satisfaction of seeing her brother sitting at 
 the table, and doing ample justice to her cooking. 
 
 " Come, sis, sit down," said Henry ; " there s 
 
6o 
 
 enough on the table for three or Tour men now. Sit 
 down, and tell me all about your fine company. But 
 did you have that smooch on your face when they 
 were here?" pausing with a piece of meat half-way to 
 his mouth. 
 
 " What smooch ?" Alice hastily arose and crossed 
 to the little looking-glass. "Oh, horrible!" as .she 
 beheld a sooty mark upon one temple. " However 
 did that get there ? Oh ! I know ; it was when I 
 stooped down to baste the meat. I remember that I 
 hit my forehead against the corner of the stove. Oh, 
 I never, never will go to the door again until I have 
 looked into the glass. " Her overcharged feelings 
 could not longer be controlled. She burst into tears. 
 She liked Mr. Harwood so much, and what must he 
 think of her ? It was bad enough for Lolly Fayette 
 to show him how different her life was from that to 
 which he was accustomed; but this was far worse, for 
 this savored of untidiness, and Alice knew that every 
 well-regulated man had a healthy horror of the least 
 indication of a sloven in a woman. 
 
 " Tut, tut, sis," said Henry, soothingly. " Don t 
 cry. That s only a trifle." 
 
 "But it looks so so frowsly," becoming inco 
 herent, " like a a ." Sobs finished the sentence. 
 
 " See here, Allie," cried Henry, jumping up and 
 putting his arms around the quivering figure, "I can t 
 
have you feeling like this. You re all tired out and 
 used up with the heat. You shan t work so any more. 
 I ll get some one to help you before I m a day older." 
 
 If Henry Marriner had been a strategist, instead 
 of a great, warm-hearted fellow who loved his little 
 sister dearly, he could not have hit upon a surer 
 method of drying Alice s tears. 
 
 " Go back to your dinner, you foolish boy," she 
 cammanded; " and don t you dare to talk to me 
 about help. A pretty young woman I am if I can t 
 do all there is to be done just for you and I. You are 
 not afraid to soil your hands with work why should 
 I be above a paltry smooch on my face ? Come, dear, 
 try some of my pudding." 
 
 Laura Fayette was not quite sure that her scheme 
 had worked in the desired manner, as she pursued her 
 way homeward. Wallace accompanied her as far as 
 the gate, but quietly declined her urgent invitation 
 to lunch, and, lifting his hat, passed on. If she had 
 chanced to be in the neighborhood of the Marriners 
 just before dusk on the following day, she would 
 have seen something which would have convinced 
 her that her labors had been in vain Wallace Har- 
 wood taking a reluctant leave of Alice Marriner, just 
 outside the open door, after a pleasant call, when no 
 discordant element had marred an earnest, unconven 
 tional conversation. 
 
-62 
 
 Wallace had lost 110 time in inquiring about the 
 " cousins near W ;" and judging by the fre 
 quency of his calls thereafter, and the length of his 
 interviews with Miss Alice, there must have been 
 a great deal to say about the distant relatives. It was 
 not long before the residents of Miner s Flat became 
 accustomed to seeing these two out riding together 
 at the sunset hour, or walking arm-in-arm up and 
 down the moonlit street, enjoying the cool breezes 
 that seldom failed to blow over the camp at night, 
 after a long and sultry day. It was patent to every 
 one that the elegant young visitor had fallen " dead 
 in love " with pretty, unpretending Alice Marriner. 
 Some croaked that his attention could mean no good 
 a rich young fellow like him would never marry a 
 miner s sister. But their doubts were set at rest one 
 fine morning in autumn, when a certain marriage 
 notice met their eyes in the Daily Silver Star, coupled 
 with the announcement that the happy pair would 
 leave Miner s Flat on the twelve o clock stage for an 
 extended tour through the Eastern states prior to set 
 tling in their new home in Southern California. 
 
 " It s so good of you, Wallace, dear," said the 
 bride, " to decide that you will live in Santa Barbara 
 so that Henry and I need not be separated, for he 
 would hardly dare venture into a cold climate yet. 
 And it will be so nice for him to take charge of that 
 
-6 3 - 
 
 ranch you have bought. He will soon be as strong 
 as ever, I know. I can t think how you ever came to 
 fancy such a plain little mortal as I am, Wallace." 
 The brown eyes looked up to his with a world of 
 love and confidence in them. 
 
 "It was that mid-day call which did it," laughed 
 Wallace. " I liked your appearance before, but that 
 finished me." 
 
 " Pray, what constituted the charm, my lord ! 
 Could it have been the dusky smooch that ornament 
 ed my brow ? Or was it my healthy color ? Speak, 
 I conjure you, and solve the mystic problem." 
 
 " I warn you not to be saucy," and Wallace gave 
 his wife a specimen of the punishment in store for 
 her. " It was one both everything. It was the 
 vast difference between you and the ordinary girl of 
 the period the fashionable miss who is too delicate 
 to work, but able to dance all night; who despises 
 honest poverty, but cares not from how disgraceful a 
 source the money emanates which slips through her 
 fingers so quickly. Pshaw ! what do I want of a wife 
 like that? What enjoyment could I derive from her 
 companionship ? What would I find in her to love? 
 I have you, my treasure. God be thanked for that. I 
 know your worth, and may I be worthy of you ! I 
 don t intend that these dear hands shall ever be 
 employed in wearisome tasks, but it is a pleasant 
 
-6 4 - 
 
 thought that if it were necessary, you would work 
 them to the bone for one you loved." 
 
 "Indeed I would," exclaimed Alice. 
 
 "I trust you will never be obliged to, my darl 
 ing," replied Wallace, gravely and reverently. "But 
 how different is Laura Fayette ! As long as her 
 father continues to prosper in the liquor business, 
 she can play the lady ; but if reverses come, as they 
 so frequently do in these reckless frontier towns, 
 where will she be? She served me one good turn, 
 though unwittingly, when she brought me to your 
 door on that scorching July day just four months 
 ago. She paved the way for the happiness which 
 I now enjoy, and we ll thank her for that, will we 
 not, my dearest? " 
 
 " Actions speak louder than words," and Wallace 
 Harwood was fully satisfied with his answer. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS MISS ALDEMAN. 
 
 **I_lAVE you called on Miss Aldeman yet, my 
 1 1 dear?" queried Mr. Morley, as he compla 
 cently brushed a crumb from his immaculate shirt 
 front, while awaiting the arrival of dessert upon the 
 table. 
 
 " Called upon Miss Aldeman ! Certainly not," 
 responded Mrs. Morley, in tones of unmistakable 
 astonishment and hauteur. 
 
 " And why certainly not ? " persisted the head 
 of the house. Mrs. Morley looked across the well 
 appointed table at him for a moment in speechless 
 indignation. " One would think you expected me to 
 associate with all the common people in town," she 
 said at last, cuttingly. "Miss Aldeman is not in our 
 set at all. Why, she works for a living / " 
 
 If the young lady in question had committed 
 some heinous crime, it could not have been spoken of 
 with more crushing emphasis. 
 
 "Well, what of that?" replied Mr. Morley, 
 quietly. " So do I, for that matter. I suppose you 
 
 (65) 
 
66- 
 
 consider me in your set? " And the impertinent man 
 arched his eyebrows and looked over at his wife in 
 affected concern. 
 
 " You are ridiculous, Mr. Morley," snapped that 
 irate individual. "It is perfectly honorable and au 
 fait for a man to support his family, and your occu 
 pation of broker is eminently respectable. But Miss 
 Aldeman actually teaches music, and sews, and I 
 don t know what all. How she can have the face to 
 put herself among high-toned people, I don t see." 
 
 " Perhaps because that face is so very good-look 
 ing, my dear," said Mr. Morley, facetiously. "I m 
 sure I don t see anything dishonorable in a young 
 lady earning her own living in whatever manner 
 she finds it possible to do so, if she has no one to 
 earn it for her. It is true, it is more fashionable for 
 a girl to know nothing of any real consequence, to sit 
 in the parlor all day long with limp hands and pro 
 nounce life a bore, until she catches some foolish fel 
 low, who doesn t know any better, in the matrimonial 
 noose. But, for my part, I prefer the girl of old times. 
 She was sensible, and, when she married, she made a 
 good help-meet to her lucky husband. Ah, well, one 
 does not see many of that kind now-a-days." 
 
 Mr. Morley sighed, and munched his grapes with 
 an abstracted air, which gave place to one of amuse 
 ment on hearing his wife s next sally. 
 
6 7 
 
 " I really believe, Freeman Morley, that you have 
 fallen in love with Louise Aldeman ! " 
 
 Now this was an absurd speech, for Mr. Freeman 
 Morley was bald-headed, rotund, and being on the 
 shady side of fifty, not a man calculated to inspire 
 the tender passion in the heart of a young lady, or 
 prone to cherish other than paternal feelings towards 
 one so many years his junior. 
 
 " Not so fast, my dear," remarked Mr. Morley, 
 good-humoredly. A man is always in good humor 
 after dinner, you know, and then Mr. Morley had 
 never been in ill humor a dozen times in his life. 
 " Not so fast. I certainly admire the young lady for 
 her independence, and the sterling good qualities 
 that I believe her to possess ; but I don t think it 
 need to cause you any uneasiness, my dear. I spoke 
 of her to-day because I met her on my way home to 
 dinner, and it occurred to me to ask if you had 
 made her acquaintance. I am positive you would 
 like her, Mrs. Morley." 
 
 The lady deigned no reply to this, but dinner 
 being over, sailed majestically from the room. 
 
 Louise Aldernan, the subject of this post prandial 
 discussion, was a very prepossessing looking young 
 lady, of quiet, well-bred demeanor, who made her 
 appearance in the aspiring-to-be-fashionable town of 
 Nebulon, California, some five or six months previous 
 
68 
 
 to the opening of our story. Little was known about 
 her save that she brought letters of recommendation 
 from the East to the pastor of one of the churches, 
 and one or two other prominent personages. These, 
 coupled with the young lady s pleasing appearance, 
 produced so favorable an impression that she was, at 
 her earnest request, admitted to board in the pastor s 
 own family, and was given the entree to a very 
 respectable class of society. Some there were who, 
 like Mrs. Morley, stood aloof from the new comer, on 
 account of the mystery surrounding her antecedents 
 and the evident impoverished condition of her purse ; 
 but she had, by this time, won warm friends as well, 
 friends who occupied a social status, in some cases, 
 equal to that of Mrs. Morley. This was what occa 
 sioned that haughty dame s insinuation that Miss 
 Aldeman had "put herself" among people of unex 
 ceptionable standing in the community. Miss Alde 
 man herself would have indignantly, if quietly, 
 resented the inference had she heard it, for she pos 
 sessed a nature that, so far from being obtrusive, was 
 very considerably reserved. Instead of making 
 advances herself, it was found necessary by those 
 desirous of forming her acquaintance, to seek her 
 company ; and their favors, if accepted at all, were 
 received with a mingling of self-respect and apprecia 
 tion. Those who knew her best declared that, 
 
-6 9 - 
 
 behind the mask which she presented to the world, 
 there existed the warmest, most sympathetic of hearts, 
 and an eloquence of tongue not suspected by the pub 
 lic, who found her a delightful listener, but a modest 
 conversationalist. Miss Aldeman had been in Nebu- 
 lon but a week when she advertised for pupils in 
 music, and, three months later, finding the class not 
 sufficiently remunerative to place her on a secure 
 monetary basis, even by the exercise of the most 
 rigid economy, she signified her willingness to do 
 dressmaking, either in families, or at home. A cer 
 tain number of days in each week were devoted to 
 this occupation, there being no dearth of customers, 
 and those remaining were set aside for the music les 
 sons. The children loved their teacher, and made 
 good progress. The fact could not be denied that 
 Miss Aldeman was a thorough mistress of the piano, 
 and her services were sometimes secured at concerts 
 and entertainments, when she never failed to add 
 greatly to the merits of the programme. But when 
 Mrs. Freeman Morley, and others of like calibre, had 
 the management of such affairs, it is needless to say 
 that Miss Aldeman s services were not required. 
 Despite her impecunious situation, her attire was 
 always that befitting a lady of refinement. She had 
 apparently lost some friend quite recently, although 
 she did not wear deep mourning, but confined herself 
 
to plain black or white. The excellent material 
 invariably used, the style of construction, and the 
 manner of wearing, all combined to give her a dis 
 tingue air in whatever costume she assumed. It was 
 really too provoking, Mrs. Morley thought Much as 
 she prided herself on her undisputed position, her 
 haughty carriage, and her luxuriant wardrobe, she 
 envied Miss Aldemau the nameless air of grace and 
 elegance that hung about her. But the presuming 
 creature worked for a living, and was, therefore, not a 
 fit companion for those " born to the purple." Born, 
 did I say ? That was not the case with Mrs Morley. 
 Her father was a hard-working shoemaker, and his 
 daughter found it necessary to go out to service at the 
 period of her life when she ought to have been attend 
 ing school. But a l that was forgotten long ago, and 
 woe betide Freeman Morley should he so far forget 
 himself as to allude to that buried past. Mrs. Morley, 
 like many another similarly situated woman, became 
 arrogant and vain on her assumption to wealth, and 
 displayed an infinitesimal amount of either charity or 
 sympathy for those traveling over the same rough road 
 her now delicately shod feet had once trodden. It is 
 so the world over. Well born and carefully reared 
 people, who are accustomed from earliest infancy to 
 all the advantages of what is termed high life," seldom 
 forget what constitutes a true lady or gentleman. 
 
A few evenings after the above quoted conversa 
 tion of Mr. and Mrs. Morley, the handsome mansion 
 of Mrs. Warner, wife of the principal merchant of 
 the town, was brilliantly lighted, and thrown open to 
 the creme de la creme of Nebulon society. Silks 
 rustled, jewels flashed, and the perfume from a wealth 
 of exotics filled the air. Conspicuous among the 
 fashionably attired throng Miss Aldeman stood, tall, 
 pale, queenly, her exquisitely fitting robe of heavy 
 black silk forming a decided contrast to her surround 
 ings, but presenting no sense of incongruity in its 
 quiet elegance. A lily nestling among the rich laces 
 at her throat, and another amid the dark braids of her 
 hair, formed her only ornaments. 
 
 She had not cared to attend this party, in fact, 
 had felt a strange reluctance in doing so, a shrinking 
 as from some ill to come. But Mrs. Warner had 
 insisted on her services in filling up a programme 
 which embraced the best vocal and instrumental tal 
 ent in town, and she had cast aside her misgivings 
 with a light laugh at their folly. 
 
 The evening was well advanced. Half the pro 
 gramme had been accomplished. Miss Aldeman had 
 rendered one of Beethoven s sonatas in a masterly 
 manner, and the assembled company were enjoying 
 an interval of sociability, when the hum of voices, and 
 the sound of merry laughter, filled the spacious apart- 
 
72 
 
 merits. Miss Aldeman, sitting in a low chair near the 
 piano, conversing with a couple of benign old ladies, 
 was half hidden from those standing about her. Un 
 consciously her attention was drawn to a conversation 
 near at hand. 
 
 "Who are those new arrivals," asked a blithe 
 young voice ; "they are most fashionably late it must 
 be past eleven." 
 
 "I don t know," responded another feminine 
 voice, " but I judge they are acquisitions to our rather 
 limited circle of attractive young men. The taller one, 
 in particular, is very fine-looking. I say, Rob, who are 
 those young gentlemen just bowing to Miss Warner?" 
 
 "Hey? with Miss Warner?" rather absently 
 queried the " Rob " addressed, turning his eyes reluct 
 antly from a fair face across the room, to the direc 
 tion indicated by his sister. " Why no, it can t be 
 by Jove ! it is. Hal Bentley s got home ! And 
 that s his chum with him travelled over Europe 
 together inseparable since they met at college. I 
 saw them both a few months ago, when I was East." 
 
 " But what is the other gentleman s name," per 
 sisted the young girl on the other side of " Rob s " 
 sister. " He must surely be known by some other 
 appelation than that of Hal Bentley s chum. " And 
 the saucy miss darted a look of captivating archness 
 from beneath her dainty eyebrows. 
 
73 
 
 " Oh, didn t I tell you? Well, Miss Inquisitive- 
 ness, his name is Ralph Winchester. I see that you 
 girls are meditating mischief already ; but I warn you 
 that Winchester s no easy game said to be proof 
 against womankind. You ll find Hal on hand for a 
 flirtation, though." 
 
 Here the colloquy came to an abrupt termination, 
 for a sudden bustle in the rear caused the speakers to 
 turn their heads in quest of the cause of the confu 
 sion. 
 
 " Look at Miss Aldeman ! " whispered one to 
 another. She, who had never since her advent in 
 Nebulon swerved from the maintenance of perfect 
 composure, was actually being led through the low 
 window to the vine-wreathed piazza, outside, in a 
 fainting condition. Adolph Warner, the eldest son 
 of the hostess, chancing to be close by Miss Aldeman s 
 side, sprang to her relief when she swayed in her 
 chair, and caught her hurried words, gasped forth 
 with difficulty "take me away away from here, 
 quick!" 
 
 He at once put aside the ladies who closed around 
 them with ejaculations of sympathy and proffers of 
 assistance, and half carried the drooping girl into the 
 balmy night air, which he knew would act as the 
 most powerful restorative that could be administered. 
 
 " She will be better directly," he said, " as soon 
 
74 
 
 as she gets out of this close room. She had better be 
 perfectly quiet." 
 
 " I told her only yesterday," asseverated a matron 
 of commanding mein, " that she was killing herself; 
 but she declared that work was good for her." 
 
 Adolph seated Miss Aldeman in a large wicker 
 chair, and, perceiving that there was now little danger 
 of her losing consciousness, hurried away for a glass 
 of water. Silently she drank as he held the glass to her 
 lips, then, with a low murmur of thanks, sank back 
 in her chair. But, as he was about to speak, she half 
 rose, and cried out; 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Warner, I must go home at once. Will 
 you make an excuse to Mrs. Warner? I am really- 
 unable to play again, and I had better go home." 
 
 " But not yet, Miss Aldeman, really not yet. You 
 are not strong enough. Certainly you must not play 
 again, and I will explain to mother, but you had bet 
 ter sit here until you are entirely recovered." 
 
 "No, no, I can not," responded Miss Aldeman, 
 excitedly. " I would much rather go home. It is not 
 far." 
 
 And, finding it useless to remonstrate, Adolph 
 procured her wraps, and escorted her down the quiet 
 street to her boarding-place. It was, as she said, not 
 far; but he could not help wondering at her deter 
 mination to take so sudden a departure, and at the 
 
- 75 - 
 
 curious chauge from her habitual self-possession. 
 Although several years younger than she, Adolph 
 had for some time cherished a profound admiration 
 for Miss Aldeman, and he now felt proud to be able to 
 render her a service, and expressed as much when she 
 turned to speak to him, with a few grateful words, as 
 they stood on the steps of the pastor s residence. He 
 then went back to the scene of festivity, where he 
 recounted the events of the past half hour to his 
 mother. Mrs. Warner was sorry, very sorry to learn 
 of Miss Aldeman s indisposition, and regretted that 
 her guests would not have the pleasure of listening to 
 that gem of Schubert s which the young lady had 
 promised them. 
 
 " Yes certainly," she replied to Adolph s request, 
 " she would call to-morrow, and see if Miss Aldeman 
 was complete^ recovered." 
 
 After settling this matter, Adolph sought out the 
 new-comers, who were attracting a great deal of atten 
 tion, and the three young men were soon exchanging 
 cordial greetings. Hal Bentley was not a stranger in 
 Nebulon, although unknown to Ella Newton and her 
 bosom friend, Kitty Glover, who had been away from 
 home for some years, attending school at Oakland, 
 during which time the Bentleys had come to Nebulon 
 to reside, and Hal had left for Yale College, afterward 
 traveling in Europe for a year, and dallying for some 
 
- 7 6- 
 
 months on the Atlantic coast. At last he returned to 
 his family, a well grown, handsome, high spirited 
 young fellow, whose black eyes had already sought 
 out the prettiest faces in the room, and were working 
 havoc in the hearts of their owners. 
 
 But the elder and taller gentleman, Ralph Win 
 chester, was, as Ella Newton had discriminatingly 
 affirmed, the more striking looking of the two. 
 Strictly speaking, his features were not as perfect as 
 those of Hal Bentley, yet there was a likeness about 
 them which formed a harmonious whole. It was a 
 strong face and a noble head, which surmounted a 
 frame of fine ph} T sical proportions. The clear gray 
 eyes were searching, keen, yet kind those eyes 
 which, under passion s influence, deepen to a shadowy 
 darkness, or glow with infinite tenderness eyes 
 which bespeak a loyal, ardent, trustworthy soul 
 within. For him, the bevy of fair young girls assem 
 bled in Mrs. Warner s parlors had no more attraction 
 than would arise from the presence of beauty in any 
 form and place. In the abstract, it pleased him as 
 one walking through a smooth and grassy field is 
 pleased at the sight of numerous dainty blossoms 
 growing along the pathway. Individually, they did 
 not occupy an iota of his thoughts. This was his 
 first visit to California. He had yielded to the per 
 suasions of his chum to accompany him home, think- 
 
-77- 
 
 ing it might possibly allay the grief that was gnaw 
 ing at his heart For months he had striven to 
 remove the obstacle that suddenly and without warn 
 ing had interposed itself between him and anticipated 
 happiness, and his struggles had been in vain. He 
 was prone now to relinquish all hope, yet he could 
 not have it so. 
 
 " What in creation are you biting your moustache 
 like that for, and staring into space with the most 
 utterly lugubrious air? Don t you know you re at a 
 party?" cried Hal Bentley. "A pretty idea these 
 Nebulon girls will form of my chum ! They ll think 
 I ve brought home an ogre, instead of the rarely fas 
 cinating man that you are, Ralph." 
 
 " Much obliged, I m sure," murmured Ralph with 
 a faint smile, coming back to a realizing sense of his 
 whereabouts. " I believe I was out of order. You 
 must bear with me a little longer, old boy ; I shan t 
 bother you as much as I have in the past." 
 
 " Ah, the deuce! it s that girl again ! Come now, 
 Winchester, you ve had heart aches enough over that 
 business. You know the old saying " There s as good 
 fish in the sea as ever " 
 
 Hal stopped abruptly, warned by his companion s 
 rebuking glance ; and, a moment later, was introduc 
 ing Mr. Winchester to half a dozen expectant girls. 
 
 Miss Aldeman did not keep her appointments the 
 
day after the party, and she sent word to her music 
 pupils that she would be obliged to take a week s 
 vacation. Those who were sufficiently interested to 
 call and inquire for her welfare, found her not 
 actually ill, but apparently fatigued by overwork, 
 requiring a brief respite from her usual round of 
 duties. The good pastor and his wife, who were 
 daily associated with her, surmised that something 
 more than physical ailments was disturbing her ; but 
 they did not press her confidence, and wisely breathed 
 no word of their suspicions to the outside world. 
 The truth was that Louise Aldeman did not dare to 
 go out. She was fearful of being recognized by one 
 whom it would be pain unspeakable to her to meet. 
 Would she ever be able to school her emotions, she 
 wondered, and speak to this man with the indifference 
 that she manifested toward others, which it was now 
 her duty to feel toward him ? What a narrow escape 
 she had from being brought unexpectedly face to face 
 with him at Mrs. Warner s party. And what would 
 have been the denouement, had such an unhappy event 
 occurred? Louise shuddered and turned scarlet, as 
 she thought how nearly she had betrayed her secret 
 to the gossips of Nebulon. 
 
 Some one, she did not know who it was, had said 
 that Hal Bently and his friend were going to the city 
 in a few days, to take in the sights. If she could only 
 
- 79 ~ 
 
 keep out of sight until then, all would be well, for she 
 would be miles away from Nebulon ere they returned. 
 But it was not likely that so remarkable a personage 
 as Miss Aldeman would fail to be mentioned among 
 the young men for any considerable time ; and so it 
 happened that one afternoon, when several of "the 
 boys " were enjoying their cigars on the promenade 
 overlooking the sea, Miss Aldeman s name was intro 
 duced. 
 
 " I say, Hal, you ought to see her," said Robert 
 Newton. " She s a regular stunner. Not loud, either, 
 you know but stylish, and haughty as an empress. 
 You d never imagine her as poor as Job s turkey." 
 
 " What did you say her name was?" asked Hal, 
 looking askance at Ralph Winchester, who had been 
 loitering in the rear, and who had reached Hal s side 
 only in season to hear the conclusion of Bob s speech. 
 
 " Miss Aldeman," replied Bob. 
 
 Ralph s head was lifted instantly, and he took 
 an eager step forward, his eyes flashing, and his 
 entire aspect that of a man suddenly aroused from 
 lethargy to intense activity. 
 
 "Miss Aldeman? Of whom are you speaking? 
 That is not a common name." 
 
 He made a strong effort to control his emotion, as 
 he addressed himself to Robert Newton. 
 
 " Of a young lady who came here about six 
 
8o 
 
 months ago, from where nobody knows, who has cre 
 ated quite a little stir in the community by her per 
 sonal charms and her musical endowments, added to 
 the veil of mystery that enshrouds her life. No one 
 knows who she is, or why she came alone to a strange 
 town to earn her living, for she has no money." 
 
 " Describe her appearance, if you please." 
 
 Newton looked around at Winchester with some 
 curiosity, as he heard the strained voice, but Ralph 
 was walking quietly along, seemingly intent upon 
 clipping from its stem, with the cane he swung, each 
 bit of a blossom that gemmed the pathway ; for it was 
 soon after the close of the rainy season, and the 
 Golden State lay decked in her rarest garments. 
 
 A very fair description of Miss Aldeman fol 
 lowed, concluded by the remark, that " more than 
 one fellow would be glad to win her, mystery and all, 
 but she wouldn t give anybody a chance." 
 
 " I think I know this Miss Aldeman," said Ralph, 
 quietly, but Hal Bentley noted the effort it cost him. 
 " I should like to meet her, and see if it is the lady 
 that I once knew in the East." 
 
 "You know her? By Jove!" and the young 
 men circled around Winchester. 
 
 " Tell us about her. Is she all right ?" 
 
 The flippant youth who approached with the last 
 query shrank back intimidated as he encountered a 
 
8i 
 
 lightning flash of anger from Winchester s eyes. 
 
 " She is a perfect lady," Ralph said, impressively, 
 " and was highly esteemed as such where she resided. 
 Come, Hal ; help me to find her." 
 
 11 She boards at Rev. Mr. Haydn s," said one of 
 the number. 
 
 " All right," responded Hal, before anyone else 
 had a chance to offer to accompany Winchester. 
 " I m acquainted with the Haydns. We ll call around 
 together." 
 
 And they bade adieu to their companions and 
 retraced their steps to the town. 
 
 " I fibbed a little then, Ralph," said Hal, when 
 they were at a safe distance from the others. " I ve 
 no idea of going with you of course I should be 
 de trap. But I ll show you where the minister lives, 
 for I know you won t heed my advice to keep away. 
 Good luck to you, my boy. I hope this miserable 
 business will be explained now." 
 
 Ralph wrung his friend s hand in speechless 
 emotion. His face was white, and the muscles were 
 tense and drawn. 
 
 As Hal turned a corner to another street, he saw 
 Ralph standing on the steps of the house pointed out 
 to him, awaiting an answer to his pull at the door 
 bell. A more opportune time could not have been 
 chosen. Mr. and Mrs. Haydn were spending the 
 
o 2 
 
 afternoon in the country, and there was no one in the 
 house but Miss Aldeman and the Chinaman who pre 
 sided over the culinary department of the establish 
 ment, who chanced to pass by the front door just as 
 the bell rang, and who good-naturedly ushered the 
 caller straightway into Miss Aldeman s presence in 
 the back parlor, where she sat fashioning a dainty 
 tidy for Mrs. Haydn. 
 
 " Louise ! " 
 
 "Ralph!" 
 
 Miss Aldeman sprang from her chair with the 
 vague intention of beating a retreat, but got no farther 
 than Ralph Winchester s arms, which enclosed her as 
 if they could never relinquish their hold. A moment 
 she rested passively in his embrace, and she could feel 
 his strong frame tremble ; then she summoned all her 
 strength and pushed him from her. The tender, 
 happy light which glowed on his face gave place to 
 a look of sternness. 
 
 " Why do you put me from you, Louise," he said. 
 " Have you then ceased to love me? " 
 
 The stern voice sank to a tone of deep sadness, 
 and he gazed reproachfully at Miss Aldeman s flushed 
 countenance. 
 
 " Why have you come here to torture me thus?" 
 she cried, no longer the quiet, self-contained being 
 the people of Nebulon had known. " What do you 
 
-8 3 - 
 
 mean by embracing me in this manner ? I gave you 
 up long ago, and prayed that you might be happy 
 with the one you love. I went away, where I thought 
 I should never look upon your face again. Have you 
 found me out only to taunt me with my love for you? 
 Oh, you are cruel, cruel! " and the excited woman 
 burst into a fit of violent sobbing. 
 
 "You are talking in enigmas," said Ralph, com 
 ing forward, and striving to remove her hands from 
 her face. " I do not understand you. Nor could I 
 comprehend why you wrote me such a note six 
 months ago, or why you suddenly disappeared from 
 all who knew you, and no tidings could be gained of 
 your whereabouts. I think you were the cruel one, 
 Louise. Ah ! you don t know what I ve suffered." 
 
 "Do I hear aright ?" she said. "You have suf 
 fered? Ah, Heaven, but I thought the suffering was 
 all mine, and you were happy." 
 
 " It was with the hope of clearing up this mys 
 tery that I came to you this afternoon, Louise," said 
 Ralph, gently. 
 
 "Are you not married?" Miss Aldeman asked 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Married ! my darling, I shall never marry any 
 woman but you." 
 
 She stared at him a moment incredulously. 
 
 " Wait here an instant," she said, and left the 
 
-8 4 - 
 
 room, returnly directly with an open letter, which 
 she placed in Ralph s hand, who beheld the following 
 words : 
 
 "Miss ALDKMAN: You are engaged to Ralph 
 Winchester, and he will marry you, because he has 
 plighted you his word, and because the death of your 
 father has left you penniless. He is too noble-hearted 
 to cause you suffering, at a time when you are doubly 
 in need of his solace and support. But although 
 thus true to you in action, his heart has swerved 
 from its allegiance. He loves another, and that other 
 is Lucy Talbot. You are informed of this now, 
 because it is better for you to know it now than after 
 marriage. A WELL WISHER." 
 
 Ralph read the lines through slowly, then cov 
 ered his eyes with his hand. Silence reigned through 
 out the apartment. Raising his head, he stretched out 
 one hand until it touched Miss Aldeman s in a firm 
 clasp, as she sat near by, and, in a solemn tone, said : 
 
 " Louise, Heaven is my witness, the charge made 
 against me in that letter is utterly false. I never 
 entertained other than friendly feelings for Miss 
 Talbot. I have loved you all the time, and I shall 
 always love you. Do you believe me, dearest? " 
 
 The proud head was drawn to his shoulder now, 
 and he stooped until his moustache brushed her cheek 
 as he awaited her answer. 
 
" I can not doubt you, Ralph," she said, and her 
 arms stole about his neck. " But what a horrible 
 mistake it has been ! Who could have written such 
 a deliberate falsehood ? " 
 
 Ralph hesitated a moment 
 
 " It is best that you should know all, dear," he 
 said, at length. " I recognized that handwriting. It 
 is Lucy Talbot s. She knew your noble, self-sacrific 
 ing nature so well that she must have been confident 
 you would do exactly as you did quietly and with 
 out explanation give me up, and leave the field clear 
 to her, thinking it would ensure my happiness. Poor 
 girl ! it was a dreadful thing for her to die with the 
 burden of such a sin upon her." 
 
 " Die? is she dead?" 
 
 " Yes, darling. I forgot that you had heard noth 
 ing from home all this time. She was thrown from 
 her horse and instantly killed in less than a week 
 after you went away. The revelation of her duplicity, 
 and unfitness for death, almost overpowered me just 
 now. But how could you believe such a thing of me, 
 Louise ? And why did you not give me a chance to 
 speak for myself? " 
 
 " I dared not trust myself to see you, Ralph. It 
 was so hard, so terribly hard to give you up. I was 
 unreasonable, no doubt, and formed my conclusions 
 too hastily, but I was almost beside myself with grief, 
 
86 
 
 and little things, before unnoticed, seemed to confirm 
 that dreadful letter. I thought the kindest thing I 
 could do would be to hide myself forever away from 
 you and her." 
 
 The tears rolled down Louise s cheeks at the 
 recollection of her past suffering. Ralph kissed them 
 away as he jocosely remarked : 
 
 " And a pretty time I ve had of it, hunting for 
 you. But I ve got you now, and you won t escape 
 me again. It s very handy having a parson right in 
 the house, and I shan t be satisfied until the knot is 
 fairly tied. By the way, what is this I have heard 
 about your going out to work? I m afraid you ve 
 had a hard tussle with the world, my poor darling." 
 
 " No, I have not," declared Louise. " I have 
 worked, to be sure, and I should have died if I had 
 not kept myself constantly busy it has been the best 
 panacea for my heart ache. I have been strong and 
 well, and my work has not been disagreeable. My 
 little music scholars love me, and as to the sewing 
 oh, you needn t start, why isn t sewing as good an 
 employment as any? I always took to the needle 
 handily." 
 
 "But you, with your delicate breeding, your 
 accomplishments, surely could have engaged in some 
 more congenial pursuit. I don t like to think of you 
 being anybody s drudge." 
 
" Now you are absurd," said Louise, emphasizing 
 the statement with a soft little kiss on his sober face. 
 " Just as if there was any more drudgery in making 
 pretty dresses and aprons than in beating French and 
 mathematics and English literature into the craniums 
 of stupid boys and girls, or correcting perspectives and 
 inculcating the principles of free hand drawing 
 when refractory fingers refuse to come within a rod of 
 the mark. Besides, all the positions of this kind are 
 taken up here." 
 
 " How came you to choose this far-away place for 
 your self-imposed exile?" 
 
 " Because it was my birth-place, and I always had 
 a desire to visit it. If poor father had lived another 
 winter we should have come here together. He spent 
 a winter here with my mother, early in their married 
 life, and here I was born. But there are so many 
 boarders here every year that the circumstance was 
 long ago forgotten, and no one in Nebulon has the 
 least idea who I am. I did not wish any one to know. 
 I would not run the slightest risk of my whereabouts 
 being discovered." 
 
 " Obstinate girl !" But the tone and look belied 
 the words ; and the hearts of the lovers were filled to 
 overflowing with joy at the felicitous termination of 
 their estrangement. 
 
 All Nebulon was surcharged with astonishment 
 
88 
 
 when it became known that the handsome stranger 
 and the obscure Miss Aldeman were engaged to be 
 married, and that the young lady in question was 
 obscure no longer, for she was the only daughter of 
 none other than the famous Prof. Aldeman, whose 
 renown as a leader and authority in scientific circles 
 had reached every State in the Union. 
 
 " Strange we didn t think of the similarity ot 
 names," said a busybody, " although, of course, no one 
 would have thought of her being his daughter. No 
 wonder she has such airs. I heard Hal Bently tell 
 his mother that she had traveled all over the Old 
 World with her father, who was always hunting up 
 something in the scientific line ; and that their asso 
 ciates were savants and artists, and the proudest in 
 the land were glad to show the Professor attention. 
 But he never could manage money matters, and he 
 died suddenly in his chair one day, leaving her with 
 out a dollar. You know we often wondered where 
 she got her good clothes, and real laces, etc. It seems 
 she had them all before her father died. Hal says 
 she used to dress elegantly her father was always 
 buying her presents." 
 
 " Hum ! quite a remarkable case," said Mrs. Mor- 
 ley to whom these remarks were addressed. " Of 
 course I shall call now. I used to know Prof. Alde 
 man when I was a girl." 
 
-8 9 
 
 She might have added, but did not, that she was 
 employed as a sort of upper house servant in the 
 family of the young lady who afterwards became Miss 
 Aldeman s mother, and that her acquaintance with 
 the Professor consisted of a secret admiration for that 
 handsome young man as she watched the course of 
 his courtship. 
 
 Kindhearted Mr. Morley was truly rejoiced at the 
 turn of affairs. 
 
 " L,ord bless you !" he said to Miss Aldeman one 
 day. " Come to think of it, I made your acquaintance 
 when you hadn t been in this world more n three 
 months, and a right smart black-eyed baby you were, 
 too. I recollect how proud the Professor was of you, 
 and how gentle, and sweet and pretty your mother 
 looked. She was one of that kind that never lives 
 long. And so you re going to leave us, hey ? And 
 ain t going alone, either? Well you needn t blush, 
 he s a fine fellow anybody can see that and I wish 
 you joy." 
 
 It was, indeed, but a very short time before Miss 
 Aldeman left the pretty town by the sea where a 
 peculiar episode of her life had been enacted. One 
 sunny afternoon in May (but are not all California 
 afternoons sunny), there was a quiet wedding at the 
 house of the Rev. Mr. Haydn ; and the steamer that 
 plowed its way out of the harbor at sunset bore upon 
 
90 - 
 
 its deck as happy a bride and groom as ever sailed 
 over Pacific waters. The crowd assembled upon the 
 landing waved their handkerchiefs, and strained their 
 eyes to catch a last glimpse of her who was the mys 
 terious Miss Aldeman no longer. The sun set, the 
 steamer rounded the Point, and Ralph Winchester 
 drew Louise closer to his side, with an inward prayer 
 of thanksgiving that she was at last his wife, his own 
 sweet wife. 
 
THE SCHOOL-MA AM OF MINERAL HILL- 
 
 HE s a neat one, up an coming as you please, 
 an yit she a n t stuck up," said Jake Peters, 
 looking after the new school-ma am that had come to 
 Mineral Hill to teach the infantile idea of the place 
 "how to shoot." 
 
 " A Yankee, you can just bet on that," asserted 
 Jake s " pard," for they were a pair of stalwart, blue- 
 shirted miners who thus criticised the passer-by. 
 " Here comes Bill Maxley, an if he a n t lookin arter 
 her out o the corner of his eyes. Well, that s the 
 fust time I ever knowed Bill to take any stock in a 
 female critter. He got h isted by one once, and that 
 let him out on the whole lot." 
 
 " Hollo, Bill, what s up now? " queried Jo Wal 
 ker. " I see you a castin sheep s eyes at the school- 
 ma am. My pard an I here have jist made up our 
 minds that she s a stunner, but we did nt allow that 
 you d give her a look. Did ye git busted playin 
 faro last night, or air ye comin down with fever an 
 ager, or what ails ye ? " 
 
 Bill Maxley looked not over pleased with Jo s 
 (91) 
 
- 92- 
 
 good-natured chaffing, and showed signs of embarrass 
 ment at having been detected in his covert glances at 
 the school-ma am 
 
 " I don t know as anything particular s the mat 
 ter," he replied. " I did lose all I had last night, 
 though, but it a n t the first time I ve been dead 
 broke." 
 
 " Well, you d orter have sense enough to let it 
 be the last," said Jake Peters. " Why don t you let 
 gamblin alone ? There s some folks we don t expect 
 nothin else of, they d be no account any where, but 
 you, as any one kin see, has been a gentleman ; you d 
 orter keep out o such scaly cump ny. No offense, 
 pard, but I hate to see you goin to the bad." 
 
 Bill colored, and shifted his position uneasily, 
 but he knew too well what great, honest hearts beat 
 beneath the rough exterior of these two miners to 
 exhibit any anger at criticism occasioned by true 
 friendship. It may be that his conscience gave him 
 a few twinges that asserted the truth of Jake s re 
 marks, for it was true that he had seen better days, 
 and would once have deemed it impossible that he 
 could contract habits which were now an every-day 
 matter to him. 
 
 What would his lady mother say if she knew of 
 the hours that he spent in the gay saloons, where 
 crowds of excited men stood around the gaming-table, 
 
- 93 - 
 
 and liquors flowed freely from the varied-hued bottles 
 behind the handsome bar ? What would his gentle 
 sister Annie think if she was aware that the brother, 
 who was once her embodiment of noble manhood, had 
 fallen so low ? Maud Hazeltine would probably curl 
 her proud lip, and look around with renewed satisfac 
 tion at the luxuries about her, for which she had 
 broken her troth to him. Curse her ! she was to 
 blame for his ruin. But for her his mother and sis 
 ter would not be mourning his loss, ignorant of his 
 whereabouts for three years past. But for her he 
 would not be what he is now. Bah ! what a set of 
 hypocrites these women were ! Knticing men on to 
 make fools of themselves with alluring smiles and 
 languishing looks, acting at love-making with such 
 consummate skill, and then after all their caresses 
 and protestations of undying affection, casting off 
 their lovers for more desirable partis, for bigger dia 
 monds, richer dresses, grander equipages, more mag 
 nificent establishments? 
 
 A devil-may-care expression spread itself over 
 Maxley s fine lace, as he sauntered along, thinking of 
 the time in the past when Maud Hazeltine had looked 
 up at him with her beautiful blue eyes all aglow with 
 lovelight (as he had insanely imagined), when her soft 
 arms had clung about his neck, loth to part with him 
 
-94- 
 
 for even a few hours, and her sweet, false voice had 
 prattled of love in the most entrancing manner. 
 
 He was the luckiest fellow in the universe, and 
 the sweetest of women was to be his wife ere six 
 months had passed. That was before Theophilus 
 Campernon came to Rayville, and set the feminine 
 world agog with his horses and carriages, his servants 
 in livery, and various appurtenances of unbounded 
 wealth. Theophilus Campernon was sixty years old, 
 and troubled with gout, owing to the fast living of 
 thirty years or more, but his bank account was un 
 limited, and he was in search of a young wife. A 
 spirited rivalry for the honor of presiding over the 
 lion s superb establishment sprang up among the fair 
 ones of Rayville. 
 
 For a time Maxley observed no change in Maud ; 
 but soon it became a matter of much envious com 
 ment that Mr. Campernon had eyes and ears for no 
 one but the beautiful Miss Hazeltine. Sundry bets 
 of gloves and chocolates were laid by the young ladies 
 of the neighborhood, in regard to the stability of 
 Maud s affections. Some, who were disposed to take 
 every one at his best, could not believe that she would 
 break her engagement, and throw over the best-look 
 ing young fellow in Rayville for the sake of a gray- 
 headed old man with a little more money. Others, 
 not inclined to take so favorable a view of human 
 
-95- 
 
 nature, declared it their belief that Maud Hazeltine 
 would not let slip the chance to become the greatest 
 lady thereabouts, and they were right, she did not. 
 
 Will Maxley s nature could not long brook the 
 transfer of Maud s favor from him to Theophilus 
 Campernon, and stormy words ensued when Maud 
 signified her intention to marry the richer suitor, 
 regardless of vows that seemed to Will so sacred. 
 Cut to the heart by his loved one s peifidy, Will bade 
 his mother and sister a hasty good-bye, and left home, 
 in a nearly frantic state, for parts unknown. He had 
 wandered from place to place, seeking relief from the 
 pangs of disappointed affection that tormented him, 
 and now here he was at Mineral Hill, in the far West, 
 delving, with men from all parts of the world, in the 
 mines. The rough life suited his frame of mind, per 
 verted from its natural channel by the overwhelm 
 ing force of the wave of trouble that had swept over 
 him ; and the hard labor was the best panacea for 
 his tortured brain. 
 
 Gradually he acquired, in some measure, the 
 uncultivated speech and ways of the majority of his 
 co-workers; and, from forming an idle spectator to 
 the progress of the games, he became a reckless par 
 ticipant, forgetting, for the time being, his troubles 
 in the excitement of the hour. One vice he escaped. 
 He drank sparingly, the finer instincts of his nature 
 
-96- 
 
 revolting from an intemperate use of stimulants. 
 
 Something in the appearance of Miss Brannan, 
 the teacher, had arrested his attention as he passed 
 her. It was, as Jake Peters had said, an unusual 
 thing for him to notice a woman, except to avoid her; 
 for the treachery of one whom he had believed the 
 incarnation of all that was lovely had embittered his 
 heart toward the whole sex, and he now bore the 
 title of "the woman-hater." It was something in 
 Miss Brannan s figure and carriage that had caught 
 his eye, and it was with bitterness he acknowledged 
 that that something was a resemblance to his false 
 fiancee. She had Maud s erect, finely proportioned 
 figure, and her step was the same firm, sumewhat 
 dignified one; but there the likeness ended. A very 
 different face was Miss Brannan s from Maud Hazel- 
 tine s. Clear gray eyes, with a capacity for passion 
 slumbering in their depths ; slightly irregular feat 
 ures, firm-set chin, and mouth presenting the com 
 bined characteristics of decision and womanly sweet 
 ness in the finely-curved lips; rich-brown hair waving 
 back from an intellectual forehead, and coiled low in 
 the back of her shapely neck, instead of Maud s 
 azure orbs, small features as perfectly chiseled as 
 those of a statue, and golden hair crowning her 
 haughty head in a coronet of braids. 
 
 Bill" Maxley (as he was now universally styled) 
 
- 97 
 
 did not discover all the peculiarities of Miss Bran- 
 nan s physiognomy in the one cursory glance that he 
 bestowed upon her on the day that he received Jake 
 Peter s kindly admonition. It was the result of sun 
 dry observations in days following, for he found him 
 self almost unconsciously scanning the school-teacher 
 at every opportunity, afterward taking himself to task 
 for a fool in noticing a member of the sex he hated. 
 
 " False as the rest, probably," he soliloquized. 
 " The less a man has to do with them, the better." 
 
 Miss Brannan, in her turn, not being above the 
 usual predisposition of young ladies for handsome 
 young men, had not failed to observe the tall, broad- 
 shouldered, dark-eyed and rnoustached miner, who 
 strode along the streets with such a proud air, and 
 bore so unmistakably the impress of finer breeding 
 than was the portion of most of his class. There 
 was something mysterious about this dark-browed 
 fellow. She was sure he had a history, and it was a 
 sad one, for the stamp of melancholy was plainly 
 engraved upon his face. After a while, she heard 
 that he was a " woman-hater," and that inflamed her 
 desire to know something of his life ; but Claribel 
 Brannan was as proud as Bill Maxley in her way, and 
 she never by glance or motion revealed to him the 
 fact that she was more than ordinarily interested in 
 him. At last, Fate, in the guise of an unruly horse, 
 
gS 
 
 brought about an interview between the " woman- 
 hater" and the u schoolma am." 
 
 Maxley was returning, one day, from his work 
 on the eight-hour shift, swinging in his hand the 
 lunch-pail that is the miner s badge, when he saw 
 Miss Brannan ahead, standing beside the horse which 
 she was wont to ride about the camp, evidently 
 endeavoring to arrange something about the saddle, 
 while the animal frustrated her attempts with his 
 restless motions. Another glance showed him that 
 the saddle girth had slipped badly over to one side, 
 whereupon his chivalric instincts prompted him to 
 hasten to her relief. She turned her head as she 
 heard his hasty footsteps, and stood quietly holding 
 the horse by the bridle until he came up. 
 
 "O, sir," said she, with a smile, " I shall be so 
 much obliged if you will help me out of this predica 
 ment. My saddle has turned, and Don won t let me 
 fix it." 
 
 " I will have it all right in a minute," said Max- 
 ley, as he unloosed the cinch, and squared the saddle 
 upon the horse s back. " How did this get so mis 
 placed? Have you been thrown?" looking some 
 what anxiously to see if Miss Brannan bore any 
 marks of a fall. 
 
 " No, but I came very near it. Don shied at a 
 big rattlesnake he saw beside the road, and I nearly 
 
-99 
 
 went off. His sudden start made the saddle slip, 
 it wasn t on very tight, for I saddled him to-day, and 
 I just let myself down quietly, and tried to arrange 
 it ; but Don s fright made him so nervous that he 
 wouldn t stand still. He is usually very gentle." 
 
 "You say you saw a rattlesnake? Where was 
 it ? " looking keenly around on either side of the path. 
 
 " It ran into that clump of bushes," indicating a 
 bunch of greasewood that grew near by. 
 
 " It must be killed," said Bill, hastily. " There, 
 everything is all right now. Shall I help you to 
 mount?" 
 
 " Not just now, if you are going to kill that snake. 
 Would it not be better to let it go ? You know that 
 it is dangerous to attack one when thus concealed. 
 Consider how hazardous it is," said Miss Brannan, 
 timidly, lilting her earnest eyes to Maxley s face. 
 
 "Oh, there is no danger; you need not be 
 alarmed." Spite of himself, Bill felt pleased at her 
 solicitude. But, pooh! what did she care whether he, 
 a strange miner, were bitten or not? It was probably 
 all put on. " You had better allow me to place you 
 in the saddle. His majesty may get away if I delay 
 longer." 
 
 "No, I shall not go yet," and Miss Brannan s 
 lips settled together firmly. " If you are determined 
 to make the attack, I shall watch the battle." 
 
i oo 
 
 " Very well, as you please." 
 
 Maxley armed himself with a stout stick, and 
 advanced to the clump of bushes that was supposed 
 to secrete the venomous reptile. Striking them a 
 blow, a sharp, thrilling rattle was heard, and the tip 
 of the snake s tail was seen rapidly vibrating in the 
 air, thus giving Maxley some idea where to direct his 
 blows. Fast and thick they fell for a moment, then 
 the foe was vanquished, and Maxley raised the limp 
 body on the stick, and threw it clear of the bushes. 
 A little flushed, he turned to the spot where he had 
 left Miss Brannan standing holding her horse. Miss 
 Brannan was leaning upon the animal s neck, white 
 as death. 
 
 " O, sir," she exclaimed, " how frightened I was 
 when the horrible thing made the lunge at you ! It 
 very nearly struck your hand." 
 
 And she trembled visibly with excitement. Max- 
 ley laughed rather nervously as he saw how alarmed 
 she had been for him. 
 
 " That s nothing. I ve killed many another of 
 his race, and come nearer to being bitten than that." 
 
 "Well, I am greatly obliged to you for your 
 assistance," said Miss Brannan, making a violent 
 effort for composure. " I will now ask you to give 
 me a mount." 
 
 Maxley stooped, and offered his hand and shoul- 
 
iqi - ! / . > > 
 
 der, which she barely^ tbuehfid,;biDU0<$iii g t ljgit}y, to 
 her place. He touched his hat, and was about to 
 turn away, but Miss Brannan, leaning forward, held 
 out her hand with a smile, and he could not do less 
 than accept the proffered civility. The touch of her 
 soft palm sent a curious thrill over him. 
 
 " Good-bye," said he, in response to her cordial 
 " good-afternoon." 
 
 She turned her horse s head in the direction 
 from which she had come, and cantered back to the 
 camp, Bill s eyes following her erect, shapely figure, 
 and noting the grace of her horsemanship. He saun 
 tered up to the lifeless reptile, and severed the rattles 
 from its body (there were thirteen of them), then he 
 pursued his way homeward. Like many of the 
 miners, he owned a rough cabin of one room which 
 constituted his home, a plain and lonely one. But 
 then he was not in it much, except to sleep. It was 
 always lively on the street and in the saloons ; plenty 
 of men lounging about at any hour of the day or 
 night. An unwonted feeling of shame at the down 
 ward course he was treading possessed him as he sat 
 in the doorway of his shanty smoking, after reaching 
 home; and, ior once, he did not go up street that 
 evening, but passed the hours in solitude, alternately 
 reading the papers and staring into vacancy thinking. 
 He recalled the earnestness with which the school- 
 
teacher "Had* besought r<i?n -to fun no risks, the trepi 
 dation she had evinced at his "narrow escape from the 
 reptile s fangs, the sweet smile and friendly look from 
 her eyes when she bade him good-bye, the touch of 
 her soft hand in his hardened palm ; and it occurred 
 to him that perhaps he had been wrong in judging 
 all womankind alike, that it was possible that Miss 
 Brannan might be as true and honest as she seemed. 
 But then, Maud Hazeltine s manner had been even 
 more calculated to inspire one with confidence than 
 Miss Brannan s, as her face was more bewitchingly 
 beautiful. And what was she, underneath her false 
 mask, but a cold, calculating, ambitious trifler with 
 the most sacred emotions of a man s heart, valuing a 
 high position in society more than his ardent, abid 
 ing love ? As his wife, she would have known no 
 reasonable want. He could not have lavished upon 
 her all the luxuries commanded by Theophilus Cam- 
 pernon. Theophilus Campernon ! that gouty, bald- 
 headed old roue! Filled with disgust, Bill Maxley 
 knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and went to bed. 
 Miss Brannan stood in the doorway of the shanty 
 which served the purpose of a school-house, and 
 paused for a moment to look about her before ringing 
 the bell to call in her flock from their afternoon 
 recess. The sun poured down its scorching rays un 
 obstructed by shade of any kind, and the barren slope 
 
-ic-3 
 
 upon which the school-house was situated, with the 
 valley and rugged mountains opposite lay bathed in 
 a flood of light. 
 
 Shading her eyes from the glare with one hand, 
 she rang the bell, and the scholars came trooping in 
 and seated themselves on the rude benches. Just as 
 she was turning away from the door, a man s figure 
 appeared and a suave voice addressed her. 
 
 " Pardon me, madam, but I understand that vis 
 itors are permitted here. Will you allow me to come 
 in for a few moments?" 
 
 He had his hat in his hand, and looked at the 
 teacher with marked politeness, but Miss Brannan 
 was not pleased with his appearance for all that, and 
 felt reluctant to grant his request. But it was true 
 that visitors were allowed, and, after a slight hesita 
 tion, she bade him enter, and placed a chair at his 
 disposal. With profuse thanks, the stranger accepted 
 the proffered seat, placed his hat on the floor, crossed 
 one of his immaculately clad limbs over the other, 
 and assumed an air of benevolent interest as he looked 
 around at the wondering faces of the pupils. Miss 
 Brannan proceeded with the customary routine of 
 lessons, and, for a time, everything went on as usual, 
 until she became conscious that the eyes of the visitor 
 were almost constantly bent upon her, following her 
 every movement about the room. This was not at 
 
104 
 
 all agreeable, and ere long her heightened color and 
 crested head evinced the displeasure she felt. The 
 " few moments " lengthened into an hour, and when, 
 at four o clock, she dismissed her school, the intruder 
 was still there. 
 
 " Permit me to offer you my card " said he, in 
 insinuating tones 
 
 Miss Brannan looked at the bit of paste-board, 
 but did not touch it, whereupon he laid it conspicu 
 ously on the table beside which he sat. 
 
 " I have seen you at a church, Miss Brannan, 
 (so he knew her name), " and had the pleasure of lis 
 tening to your divine voice." 
 
 Miss Brannan was the leading soprano of the lit 
 tle choir that gathered on Sunday in the adobe church. 
 She particularly disliked such a broad compliment, 
 and she thought it about time for Mr. Rupert Mon- 
 manier to take his departure. Hoping to accelerate 
 that event, she said something about " having to look 
 over some exercises," and sat down at a little distance 
 to go through her task. Mr. Monmanier did not 
 budge, but sat staring her persistently in the face. 
 Unable to endure this impertinent surveillance longer, 
 Miss Brannan gathered up her papers, and put on her 
 hat. Observing preparations for departure, Mr. Mon 
 manier, hat in hand, stepped outside the door, and 
 awaited her egress. 
 
- 105 
 
 " Good-day, sir," said she, somewhat sharply, 
 after locking the door, walking rapidly away. 
 
 But she was not rid of him yet. He kept by her 
 side, saying he was going in that direction, and an 
 noyed her excessively with an increasing familiarity, 
 which she met with a haughty silence. In sheer des 
 peration, she turned her course toward the principal 
 streets rather than to her boarding-place, and entered 
 a dry-goods store, there ridding herself of her unwel 
 come companion, who gave a parting flourish, and 
 proceeded on down the street. At the tea-table that 
 night Miss Brannan related her adventure of the 
 afternoon, and described the bold intruder. 
 
 " Oh, I know who he is," suddenly exclaimed 
 Mr. Taylor, the head of the family. " He s the man 
 from New York who lately bought the Silver-Spray 
 mine. I heard he was a fast chap. Broke the bank 
 at the Crescent Saloon the other night. Well, he d 
 better not try any of his shines on you. He 11 find 
 that a mining camp is the worst place in the world 
 to insult a woman. There d be a thousand men after 
 him in no time if it was known that he troubled you 
 or any other decent woman." 
 
 " I remember now," said Mrs. Taylor, " that I 
 saw him staring at you in church last Sunday." 
 
 " Yes, he said he had the pleasure of hearing my 
 divine voice there," replied Miss Brannan, scornfully. 
 
io6 
 
 " Well, he did pile it on pretty thick for a first 
 acquaintance, and a scraped one at that," said Mr. 
 Taylor. "Just let me know if he bothers you again." 
 
 A day or two later, after school was dismissed, 
 Miss Bran nan went around to the postoffice on her 
 way home, and found as usual a long file of men in 
 front of the delivery window, and stretching out into 
 the street. They courteously made room for her to 
 pass, and she stepped up to the ladies window, and 
 called for her mail. The previous day was Sunday, 
 and, as the office was open only one hour on that day, 
 she had failed to get her mail, and now there was an 
 unusually large one. With three or four letters and 
 several bunches of papers in her hands, beside some 
 small parcels she had purchased on the way down 
 street, she started for home. Arriving nearly at her 
 destination, she paused a moment to look over her 
 collection, and made the discovery that one letter was 
 missing. She must have dropped it on the way, and 
 she turned back to seek for it, but the handsome 
 woman-hater was coming toward her, holding a letter 
 in his hand, which proved to be the lost one. 
 
 " I observed this letter lying in the street," said 
 Maxley, as he placed it in her hand, and read the 
 address, Miss Claribel Brannan. As I knew that to 
 be you, I determined to restore the letter to its owner, 
 and hastened after you." 
 
icy 
 
 " Many thanks, sir. I should have felt sorry to 
 have lost it, for it is from a very dear friend." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 And Maxley gave Miss Brannan a scrutinizing 
 look which somehow brought the color in rosy flushes 
 to her face, thus completing the mistaken impression 
 in regard to the missive that Maxley had received 
 from her last words, coupled with the bold, masculine 
 superscription that had attracted his attention. At 
 this juncture, Mr. Taylor came whistling around the 
 corner. 
 
 " Hollo, Maxley," he called out, heartily. " Where 
 do you keep yourself now-a-days? Haven t seen 
 you for an age. Come in, boy, and sit a while." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Taylor, but I guess I can t stop 
 to-night. It s about supper-time." 
 
 " Nonsense, come in and eat supper with us. 
 Come now, no more excuses. It s a good while since 
 I ve had a talk with you, and I don t mean to let you 
 go yet." 
 
 Finding it useless to attempt further remon 
 strance, Maxley succumbed to the force of circum 
 stances, and followed his genial host into the house 
 where Miss Brannan had already disappeared. 
 
 She soon entered the cozy little room where they 
 were all sitting, looking very sweet and attractive in 
 a neat, prettily flowered cambric, with cherry ribbons 
 
io8 
 
 at her throat, and nestling against her luxuriant dark 
 hair. A face and figure that would grace the richest 
 apparel, yet so fresh and " homey " in this plain attire 
 that she called to Maxley s mind all sorts of vague 
 dreams of domestic bliss, unmarred by the superficial 
 ities of fashionable life. He began to think that the 
 writer of that letter was a very fortunate fellow. 
 
 Miss Brannan possessed courage, fortitude, and 
 an indifference to the opinions of Mrs. Grundy, or she 
 would not be out here on the frontier teaching school 
 for a livelihood; and she was true to her lover, as the 
 burning blush a few moments ago testified. 
 
 " Have you ever been introduced to Miss Bran 
 nan ? " asked Mr. Taylor. 
 
 " No, not formally." 
 
 A presentation followed, and shortly after Mrs. 
 Taylor called them out to supper. A variety of sub 
 jects were discussed, and then the conversation turned 
 on the new minister. 
 
 " I think his sermon a week ago last Sunday was 
 one of the finest I ever heard. Did you not like it? " 
 remarked Miss Brannan, turning to Maxley, who sat 
 at her left hand. 
 
 " I really I was not present. I seldom attend 
 church," responded Maxley, with embarrassment. 
 
 " Oh, is that so ? I really think you do not know 
 what you miss. It is so much better to have Sunday 
 
different from other days. Surely one sees enough of 
 sin here during the week to get as far away from it 
 as possible on the Sabbath. And it is a faint reminder 
 of home, although everything is very rude and com 
 monplace here compared with the magnificent ap 
 pointments of Eastern churches, the Word of God 
 is the same." 
 
 Maxley started and grew pale as she mentioned 
 home, and replied in a low tone, 
 
 "I don t doubt but you are right. We miners 
 fall into rough, careless ways after knocking around 
 a while in uncivilized parts of the country." 
 
 " Then you want some one to set you right 
 again," smiled Miss Brannan, as she folded her napkin, 
 and they rose from the table. 
 
 Maxley s heart gave a sudden bound at her last 
 remark, with its sweet, smiling look. 
 
 If only his life were not irremediably wrecked, 
 after all ! If he might trust and love again, and cast 
 aside the baleful habits that were dragging him down 
 to ruin ! But he must not forget that this woman, 
 who so strangely occupied his thoughts, and who was 
 breaking down the barriers of reserve behind which 
 he had entrenched himself, was not free to win. 
 
 After Maxley had departed, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor 
 declared to Claribel that they were never so delighted 
 
no 
 
 to hear her say anything as they were when she 
 asked Maxley about the sermon. 
 
 " Maxley s a fine fellow," said Mr. Taylor, " and 
 I always felt uncommon^ interested in him. I want 
 to save him from going to ruin if I can. It is rumored 
 that he was once very much attached to a beautiful 
 girl, who went back on him for an old millionaire, 
 and it made another man of him. He s got folks 
 somewhere, I know, by the way he changed color 
 when you spoke of home." 
 
 "I do believe you 11 get him out to church yet," 
 said motherly Mrs. Taylor. "You ve made an im 
 pression on him, for he won t usually look at a woman, 
 and he 11 value your good opinion. If you work right 
 I believe you 11 get him to lead a different life." 
 
 Claribel thought she would try. She was more 
 interested in this proud-faced miner than she cared 
 for even her good friends, the Taylors, to know. 
 
 The next Sunday but one Bill Maxley did attend 
 church. Claribel, in company with some friends, 
 passed him on Saturday evening, and told him that 
 she was on her way to choir rehearsal. The next 
 morning, when she lifted her head after the opening 
 prayer, and glanced aimlessly over the congregation, 
 she gave a little start as she beheld Max Ley s hand 
 some face in one of the rows of chairs (for pews were 
 as yet a thing unknown at Mineral Hill). He was 
 
Ill 
 
 looking at her, and their eyes met. The pleased 
 expression in hers showed him that she was gratified 
 at his presence ; and, when the choir arose to sing, 
 and Miss Brannan s pure, powerful soprano soared 
 above all others, he felt amply repaid for any sacri 
 fice that he might have made in conforming to her 
 desires. Mr. Rupert Monmanier was also a member 
 of the congregation, and he kept his bold eyes, as 
 usual, pertinaciously fixed on Miss Brannan s coun 
 tenance. She was continually stumbling upon him 
 at all sorts of odd corners, until it became evident 
 that these unexpected rencontres were pre-arranged 
 by him. He became a perfect bug-bear to her, yet 
 had not so far violated the rules of decorum as to 
 justify her in making any decided complaint against 
 him. 
 
 One Sunday evening Mr. Taylor motioned to 
 Bill Maxley across the church, as the people were 
 going out (for Maxley was now a regular attendant), 
 and, meeting him near the door, said, 
 
 " See here, Maxley, I want you to take my place, 
 and beau the schoolma am home. I m called in 
 another direction." 
 
 Maxley quietly acquiesced in the arrangement, 
 and offered his arm to Miss Brannan, who looked 
 considerably astonished at this sudden change of 
 escorts. Mr. Taylor went off chuckling to himself. 
 
112 
 
 The church was half a mile from his house, and there 
 would be quite a favorable opportunity for one of 
 those tete-a-tetes that serve so well to draw congenial 
 people nearer together. After this, whenever Mrs. 
 Taylor accompanied her husband to evening meeting, 
 as she generally did, it became in order for Mr. Max- 
 ley to escort Miss Brannan home. In these quiet 
 interviews Maxley from time to time revealed bits of 
 his past history, and finally was led on to speak of 
 the home he had left, of the mother and sister who 
 knew not his whereabouts. He said little about the 
 faithless Maud, but from his scanty revelations Clari- 
 bel could guess the rest, and from the depths of her 
 heart she pitied him, and thought what a priceless 
 treasure his love must be. Each enjoyed the other s 
 company, still Maxley believed Claribel to be prom 
 ised to another man, and she, knowing how passion 
 ately he had loved the fair one in the East, never 
 placed any but a friendly construction on his atten 
 tions to her. 
 
 Darkness was gathering fast over Mineral Hill 
 one evening when Miss Brannan was hurrying home 
 from a visit to a sick pupil who lived on the outskirts 
 of the camp. She disliked being out alone after 
 dark, and was congratulating herself on being over 
 the worst of the route, when footsteps suddenly came 
 up behind her, and before she could turn around she 
 
was seized in a powerful embrace, and hot kisses 
 were pressed upon her burning cheeks. 
 
 " So, I have you now, ray beauty. Come, give 
 me one on that lovely mouth. I ve but a taste yet." 
 
 It was Rupert Monmanier s hated voice. Clari- 
 bel struggled desperately to break away from his 
 strong arms, and gave a sharp cry of terror. The 
 villain uttered a suppressed oath, and placed one 
 hand firmlv over her mouth to prevent further out 
 cry. That one agonized shriek reached the ears of 
 Bill Maxley, who was sitting in his cabin not far 
 distant. The next instant he was out in the street, 
 looking excitedly for the person in distress who had 
 uttered it. Through the dim light he saw a woman 
 struggling in the arms of a man, and a dozen miners 
 rushing from their shanties to see what was going on. 
 Maxley was the first to reach the spot. With un 
 bounded amazement and wrath, he recognized in the 
 parties the school-teacher, Miss Brannan, and that 
 New York fop, Monmanier. 
 
 " I^et go that lady, sir," thundered he, "instantly, 
 or, by heaven, I ll shoot you in your tracks." 
 
 " You will, hey? I reckon two can play at that 
 game." 
 
 And Monmanier, releasing Claribel, put his right 
 hand in the breast of his coat. Maxley as rapidly 
 drew his pistol, and the miners, who came up just 
 
then, observing the critical aspect of affairs, and 
 believing that shots would be exchanged before any 
 one could interfere, deemed it expedient to keep out 
 of the range of bullets. But Maxley had no inten 
 tion of firing at Monmanier, since he had set Miss 
 Brannan at liberty, unless compelled to do so in self- 
 defense. Monmaniers blood was up, and he meant 
 to give that lordly, meddlesome fellow a good dose 
 of cold lead. He raised his pistol, quicker than a 
 flash, Claribel threw herself between him and Max- 
 ley, crying, 
 
 " For God s sake, do not shoot. You shall not 
 kill him." 
 
 "Oh, you are going to interfere, are you? I ll 
 be obliged if you ll just step out of the way a 
 minute." 
 
 " Never ! If you fire, the bullet shall go through 
 my body before it reaches him." 
 
 And she drew herself unflinchingly to her utmost 
 height, and looked Monmanier steadily in the eye. 
 Maxley made a move to place her gently to one side, 
 but she resisted it. 
 
 " Oh, perhaps he s a lover of yours. I didn t 
 think of that," sneered Monmanier; " and that s the 
 reason you are so opposed to my advances." 
 
 "Silence, you contemptible scoundrel!" cried 
 Maxley. 
 
Monmanier found himself powerless to resent 
 the epithet, the miners having taken advantage of 
 the conversation to creep up behind him, pinion his 
 arms, and wrest the revolver from his hands. 
 
 " See here, my hearty," said Jake Peters, " don t 
 you go for to try no more o your blasted tricks. 
 Ta n t no use. We ve got the upper han s o ye, an 
 ye mout as well give in fust as last." 
 
 " Jes so, pard," chimed in Joe Walker, " ef this 
 here low-lived pology for a man, that s meaner n a 
 skunk an a cayote to boot, don t wish he d never sot 
 eyes on this here camp afore sun-up to-morrer mornin 
 I m mistooken. Gentlemen, you kin give out word 
 that there ll be a trial in jist one hour down to Racer 
 Jim s barn. Lite out, now, an tell the boys." 
 
 "All right," came in a chorus from the burly 
 miners throats. 
 
 And they sped hither and yon over the camp, 
 spreading the news that a lady had been assaulted, 
 and the perpetrator of the deed was to be tried by 
 Judge Lynch that night. Like wild-fire the news 
 swept through the streets, and hundreds of excited 
 men were soon gathered at the point designated. 
 
 Uncouth though they were, it was a part of their 
 rough miner s code never to allow an insult to a 
 woman to pass unpunished. They might form low 
 associations with the members of the demi monde who 
 
n6- 
 
 followed up the mining camps, but a lady could not 
 be treated with more courtesy if she were a queen. 
 The fine-looking, gentle-mannered school-teacher was 
 well known and greatly admired, and it looked as 
 though it would go hard with her persecutor. Many 
 insisted on " stringing up " Monmanier before day 
 break, but the less excitable portion of the throng 
 did not favor bloodshed, but advocated his ejectment 
 from the camp. This measure was finally agreed 
 upon, and the cowering prisoner was ordered to 
 " shake the dust of Mineral Hill from his feet within 
 twenty-four hours, if he valued his life." 
 
 It is needless to say that Mr. Rupert Monmanier 
 settled up his business affairs right speedily, and on 
 the morrow turned his back forever on the scene of 
 his discomfiture. 
 
 As the miners led Monmanier away to his trial, 
 Maxley fairly shook with agitation as he gazed upon 
 Miss Brannan, so haughtily erect but a moment ago, 
 now drooping and flushing, with eyes seeking the 
 ground. 
 
 " My darling !" ejaculated he; "I must say it! 
 How noble, how fearlessly brave in you to interpose 
 your precious person between me and possible death ! 
 I shall never forget that revelation of the grandeur 
 of your nature, never again say there is no such 
 thing as a thoroughly good woman. In the years to 
 
come, when you are a happy wife, wherever I may 
 be, I shall reverence your memory. May the fortu 
 nate man who has won your affection guard and 
 cherish it, as I would if it were in my possession. 
 God bless you, noblest of women." 
 
 His voice trembled, and his eyes grew suspi 
 ciously moist. Claribel started, and averted her face 
 to hide her confusion, when Maxley began to speak ; 
 but, as he continued, she raised her head and looked 
 at him in amazement. 
 
 " What can you mean," she queried as he ceased, 
 " by you references to some other man ? You speak 
 as if I were engaged, but I am not." 
 
 " You are not ! " exclaimed Maxley. " Can that 
 be true ? Did not you imply as much when I returned 
 to you your lost letter? " impetuously. 
 
 " Why, no, I did not. I think I stated that the 
 letter was from a very dear friend, my old chum at 
 school." 
 
 " But the masculine handwriting? " 
 
 " Oh, L,u has a habit of giving her letters to her 
 husband to address. He is an editor, and writes a 
 great deal at home." 
 
 " What a great mistake I have made ! Is it too 
 late to rectify it ?" He came closer, and took both 
 her hands in his. " Would it be possible for you to 
 love me, my darling? " 
 
n8 
 
 Anxiously he awaited her answer. A moment s 
 silence, and then she whispered, 
 
 "Not only possible, but I already love you 
 dearly." 
 
 The hands he grasped were quickly drawn about 
 his neck, and he held her in a close embrace, his 
 heart too full for utterance. 
 
 After a while they became conscious that they 
 were standing in the middle of the street, that dark 
 ness had fallen close around them, and that Mr. and 
 Mrs. Taylor would be feeling anxious at Miss Bran- 
 nan s prolonged absence. So they started off arm-in 
 arm for Mr. Taylor s, exchanging as they went bliss 
 ful lovers confidences. 
 
 " You have turned me from the despicable course 
 that I was pursuing," said Will. "I have not entered 
 a gambling house for three weeks, and, by God s 
 help, I never will again. I will strive henceforth to 
 be worthy of my cherished wife. With you for my 
 guiding-star, I surely can not fail." 
 
 Nor would he. Claribel Brannan s strong, well- 
 poised nature was just the one to call forth all the 
 good there was in Will Maxley, and she would never 
 fail him. In seasons of prosperity and happiness, 
 she would be the chief of all his blessings, in days of 
 trial and suffering she would be his good angel. Bet 
 ter, far, for Will Maxley that his first love, Maud 
 
Hazeltine, deserted him. In Claribel Brannan he 
 found a wife immeasurably her superior. The Tay 
 lors were well pleased with the turn of affairs, having 
 for some time had the idea that " it would be a good 
 thing for Bel and Will to make a match." 
 
 When, two months later, Will sold a mine for 
 twenty thousand dollars, there seemed no need of 
 delaying their union, as that sum appeared as amply 
 sufficient for comfort to Claribel as ten times the 
 amount did to Maud Hazeltine. A few weeks after 
 ward, the daily stage was besieged by a crowd of well- 
 wishers, come to see " Bill Maxley " and his bride oft 
 on their wedding trip. 
 
 Jake Peters and Joe Walker were there, their 
 faces beaming with approbation. " Who d a thought 
 it? " commented one of the bystanders; " that that 
 air high-steppin feller as would n t so much as look 
 crostways at a woman would up and git hitched afore 
 the year was out ? " 
 
 "All aboard ! " shouted the driver, mounting the 
 box, and cracking his long whip. A plunge of the 
 horses, a flourishing of bandanas in the air, three 
 hearty cheers for the " woman-hater " and the "school- 
 marm," and the lumbering old coach whirled around 
 the corner, bound for the nearest railway station. 
 
 The sun was just dipping below the western hor- 
 rizon, casting a mellow light over the autumnal-hued 
 
120 
 
 foliage and the pretty residences of that most beauti 
 ful of Boston suburbs, Rayville. A hack came 
 rumbling down one of the broad streets, and drew 
 up before a commodious mansion, of tasteful architect 
 ural design, surrounded by a well kept lawn, ornament 
 ed with neat flower-beds, a fountain splashing in the 
 centre. The gayly tinted blossoms of summer had 
 yielded to the blighting touch of an early frost, but 
 chrysanthemums, everlastings, and other autumn 
 flowers were yet in bloom. A sweet-faced girl looked 
 out of one of the windows as the carriage stopped 
 before the front gate. 
 
 " Mother," she called; "some one has come. 
 There is a hack at the gate. Who can it be? " 
 
 " I don t know I m sure," said Mrs. Maxley, a 
 rather sad-faced woman of forty-five, whose smooth 
 bands of black hair were thickly threaded with silver. 
 
 A tall gentleman alighted, and turned to assist 
 a closely veiled lady from the carriage. Trunks and 
 boxes were unstrapped by the driver, and appearances 
 indicated that, whoever the travelers were, they had 
 come to stay. The gentleman gave his arm to his 
 companion, and they walked up the graveled path. 
 
 "O, mother," gasped the girl; "it is, it is Will! 
 O, mother, Will has come back!" and the delighted 
 girl flew to the hall door, and threw it open wide as 
 the pair ascended the piazza, steps. Mrs. Maxley 
 
121 
 
 raised her eyes to heaven in a silent prayer of thanks 
 giving for the restoration of her only son, and fol 
 lowed close upon her daughter s footsteps. 
 
 " Mother ! " said Will Maxley, catching sight of 
 her matronly face ere she reached the door; "can you 
 forgive and welcome back the wanderer? " 
 
 " My boy ! " was the brief but tender answer, and 
 she was folded in her son s strong arms. 
 
 Annie gave her brother a vigorous hug and a 
 shower of kisses ; then Maxley turned with pride to 
 the young lady who had looked upon this family 
 reunion with moistened eyes, and taking her by the 
 hand, he led her to his mother. 
 
 " Mother," said he, " I have brought you a new 
 daughter. Love her for my sake, for she has saved 
 me from ruin. 
 
 " Bless her for that," said Mrs. Maxley fervently, 
 as she received Claribel in a warm embrace, " but I 
 know I shall love her for her own sake." 
 
 " This is Annie, of whom I have told you," con 
 tinued Will. " Annie, this is your sister Bel." 
 
 " I am delighted," cried Annie, " to think you 
 have brought home a wife ! Dear Bel you will let 
 me call you so, won t you? you don t know how 
 lonely we have been." 
 
 " But you shan t be so any longer," said Will, as 
 they entered a cozy parlor. " I am going to settle 
 
122 
 
 down for life in the East. It is my wife s birthplace 
 as well as mine, and here we will stay." 
 
 Happiness reigned again in the long-sad Maxley 
 home. Mrs. Will created quite a sensation in the 
 Rayville world, Mrs. Theophilis Campernon even 
 casting decidedly jealous eyes on her discarded lover s 
 stately wife ; for she had long since become disgusted 
 with her captious, carnal-minded lord, and neither 
 wealth nor jewels could bring contentment to her 
 unhappy heart. 
 
 The motherless bride s cup of happiness was 
 filled to overflowing with the affection of her new 
 found parent and sister. And Will Maxley never 
 ceased to bless the day on which he gazed with crit 
 ical eyes, after the " school-ma am of Mineral Hill." 
 
THE TRIALS OF JONATHAN MOLLIFY. 
 
 JONATHAN MOLLIFY was in despair. He was 
 CJ ready to take an affidavit that no more hope 
 lessly miserable specimen of the genus homo existed 
 than he, on this beautiful Monday morning, Anno 
 Domini 2010, in that rarest of favored countries, the 
 Golden State. This lugubrious condition of affairs 
 was nothing new ; had it been, he might have plucked 
 up courage and hoped for brighter days in future. 
 But, years ago, he had given up all faith in such 
 well-worn adages as " The darkest cloud has a silver 
 lining;" " Never was so long a night but was van 
 quished by the light," et coztera. Stuff and nonsense ! 
 The light was a long time coming, in his case, and 
 he didn t see where it was coming from, unless the 
 gates of a brighter world than this mundane sphere 
 should mercifully open before him. It was all on 
 account of Maria, this darkness and chaos and misery, 
 and as for any lifting of the cloud in that direction, 
 one might as well look for a gold mine in the bottom 
 of Salt Lake. Maria had the upper hand, and she 
 held the reins taut and firm. They had been in her 
 
 (123) 
 
r 124- 
 
 possession how long ? It seemed an eternity, but 
 it could not be but a half-dozen years or so, reckon 
 ing by little Jonathan, who was a babe in the cradle 
 when the movement was crowned with success. 
 " Movement ?" you repeat. Why,yes,the woman s 
 right s movement now in full swing from shore to 
 shore of this glorious republic, and sweeping Maria 
 Mollify along with it, well-nigh to the annihilation 
 of her true and trusty spouse, Jonathan. Here it 
 was Monday morning, and Maria, despite her long 
 residence on the Pacific Coast, positively would not 
 forget the principle inculcated in her youth, among 
 the far-famed Yankees, that, whate er betide, Monday 
 is wash-day. Yea, though the skies fall, the week s 
 washing must be done, and Monday is the appointed 
 time. Jonathan was not sensible of any decided 
 objection to this programme, provided Maria would 
 interview the tub and wash-board herself, but, alas ! 
 this was not the order of the day in the new dispen 
 sation. Maria was up and away, bright and early, 
 on official business connected with the annual con 
 vention of the Grand Union Female Association of 
 Liberty and Equality, which was announced to begin 
 at nine A. M. of this very day, continuing through 
 the week ; and Jonathan could still hear her metallic 
 voice calling from the buggy, as she gave the dejected 
 steed a cut of the whip, and rattled out of the yard. 
 
125- 
 
 " Hurry up, now, and get that wash out a dryin 
 in some kind of season. And don t let Jeremiah get 
 into mischief. And remember, I shall be home to 
 dinner at twelve o clock, sharp ! " 
 
 Shades of Erebus ! what a change in that 
 woman s voice since those foolish days, ten years ago, 
 when they two went "sparking" down by the river 
 bank, where the violets grew the thickest, and the 
 birds caroled the sweetest, as if in sympathy with the 
 lovers who strolled through their shady retreats. 
 Foolish days! yet Jonathan liked to recall them. But 
 for the memory of them, he sometimes feared he 
 would throw off the galling yoke, and launch into 
 the sea of eternity. 
 
 Who could have foreseen such a contingency as 
 this? who realized the startling changes, arising from 
 progressive times, which had metamorphosed sweet 
 Maria Moulton into the present terrible Maria Mol 
 lify ? Not Jonathan Mollify, or never would he have 
 slipped his neck into the noose matrimonial, that 
 was as certain as tradesmen s bills at New Year s. 
 But there was no disputing the fact, women were 
 now voters, office-holders, and proprietors generally ; 
 and perhaps it was a natural sequence of centuries 
 of so-called oppression that they carried their new 
 dignities and responsibilities in a very high-handed 
 manner, assuming the authority in domestic matters 
 
- 126 
 
 as well as the lion s share in political affairs. Any 
 how Maria Mollify was not going to be outdone by 
 any one else, either at home or abroad. She gloried 
 in the opportunity to display abilities that lay dor 
 mant and unrecognized prior to that grand and mem 
 orable day when the emancipation of the female sex 
 was legally effected. Ah, well-a-day ! it had been 
 rough sailing for the discomfited masculines ever 
 since, especially for those who, like himself, were so 
 unfortunate as to be bound hard and fast by the ties 
 of wedlock, to a bright and shining star, a leader 
 invincible and undaunted, in the new dominion. 
 Maria s services were constantly in demand, and her 
 time was consequently too valuable to be spent in 
 obscurity at home. Jonathan being of less note and 
 usefulness in the political world, must render himself 
 of service at the hearthstone. This Maria thought 
 eminently proper and consistent. It was, therefore, 
 Jonathan who washed the dishes, cooked the meals 
 on time, too, or he rued his tardiness tended the 
 babies, and otherwise kept oiled and in motion the 
 machinery of the household. And this it was which 
 had transformed him from a joyous bridegroom to a 
 disheartened spiritless shadow of a man. 
 
 " Ouch ! ou-ou-ou ouch ! " came a mighty howl 
 from the kitchen. " Papa ! papa ! I want my papa ! 
 ow-ow-ow-ow ! " 
 
- 127 - 
 
 " Great goodness ! what s that child into now ? 
 Maria charged me to look after him, and I forgot all 
 about it. Blast it all ! Hush up, Jerry, can t you ? 
 Don t make such an all-fired racket." 
 
 No more reveries for Jonathan Mollify. In the 
 middle of the cluttered kitchen, his hands, face and 
 dress besmeared with soft soap, the bucket from 
 which it had been abstracted upset on the floor, stood 
 the originator of the howl in question, a chubby, two- 
 year old boy, and as disgusted a looking one as ever 
 tampered with presumable sweets. 
 
 " Me sit, papa," wailed the child, with contorted 
 face ; " me dretful sit. Boo-hoo-o-o ! " 
 
 " Where are you sick?" queried papa, drawing 
 the disconsolate object toward a wash-basin, and pro 
 ceeded to remove the brown-hued covering from his 
 lineaments. " What business had you meddling with 
 that soap-bucket, any how, I d like to know ? Never 
 saw such young ones ! It isn t me they take after." 
 
 Here Jerry gave unmistakable indications of the 
 locality of the alleged sickness, by saying : 
 
 " Mestummit, papa, me stuinmit. Boo-hoo-o-o-o!" 
 
 "Jeremiah Mollify, didn t you know any better 
 than to eat that stuff? Well, this is a mess. No won 
 der you re sick ! That washing won t get out in a 
 hurry, I m thinking, with you to attend to." 
 
128 
 
 " Papa toss ! Don t, papa, be toss to Jerry. Jerry 
 sit." 
 
 And the papa loved his little boy too well to hold 
 out long in the face of genuine distress. 
 
 But the sick one had to be coddled and com 
 forted and put to sleep, and all the time the sun was 
 mounting higher in the heaven, and the clothes lay 
 soaking in the tubs. The child s troubles forgotten 
 in slumber, Jonathan plunged into the work of the 
 day in good earnest. It was not long, however, before 
 another interruption came, in the shape of a dripping 
 boy of six or seven, also the possessor of a strong pair 
 of lungs, which he was using actively. 
 
 " Now, what in creation s the matter with you?" 
 demanded the irate father. " Where ve you been to 
 get so wet ? Speak this minute, Jonathan ! How 
 came yeu out of school ? " 
 
 " I I went d-down t-to the fish-pond, long the 
 other boys, t recess, an an Jake Hudson, he 
 p-pushed me in." 
 
 " Well, Jake Hudson had better mind his own 
 business, or I ll give him something some day 
 that he won t like. And you can just keep away 
 from that fish pond after this. If I ever hear of you 
 going there again I ll see about it ! Now I ve got to 
 stop and hunt up dry clothes for you, or else you ll 
 be down with sore throat or something, and then I ll 
 
129 
 
 never hear the last of it. Stop your bawling, and 
 come along into the house." 
 
 Jonathan, junior, attended to, the advancing 
 hand of the clock warned Mr. Mollify that the dinner 
 hour was at hand, and no preparations had been 
 made for the meal. 
 
 " Twelve o clock sharp, Maria said," he groaned ; 
 " and she ll be here, sure as fate. Seems to me I 
 hear the rattling of the wagon now, and there a n t 
 any kindlin chopped nor nothin ready. Dear, dear, 
 I m in for it." 
 
 "It" may be a mysterious word to the reader, but 
 it was not to Jonathan Mollify. " It " in his vocabu 
 lary, was fraught with meaning, and that meaning 
 was indissolubly connected with the lordly Maria s 
 tongue. Alive to the exigencies of the case, he trot 
 ted around endeavoring to make a good show of his 
 morning s work, for well he knew it would undergo 
 inspection from Argus eyes, stringing part of the 
 clothes conspicuously upon the line, scrabbling to 
 gether and out of sight some of the rubbish that lay 
 in confusion about the kitchen floor; and, the per 
 spiration trickling down his face, was frantically chop 
 ping kindling when Maria Mollify drove briskly into 
 the yard. An ominous look settled upon her counte 
 nance as she espied the flurried Jonathan, and 
 conjectured that her orders had not been faithfully 
 
executed. Hitching the horse, and striding judicially 
 into the kitchen, she surveyed the situation, and her 
 displeasure found prompt utterance. 
 
 " What! no dinner ready, and the fire not even 
 built ! Jonathan Mollify, you lazy, good-for-nothing 
 man, what have you been doing all the forenoon? 
 Not more n half the wash out, either," going to the 
 door, and giving a contemptuous sniff at the clothes 
 line. "Well, if this is n t enough to provoke a saint. 
 Here I ve been hard at work ever since I opened my 
 eyes this morning, and now I can t get a bite of any 
 thing to eat. I do believe I shall faint away." 
 
 She sank into a chair with an air of profound 
 exhaustion and pitiful martyrdom. Jonathan grabbed 
 the vinegar bottle, and thrust it under her nostrils so 
 vehemently that she recoiled with indignation. 
 
 " Don t faint, Maria, mercy on us, don t faint ! 
 I 11 have dinner ready in five minutes. It s been a 
 dreadful unlucky day, Maria, and I could n t do no 
 better; I could n t, positively." 
 
 What on earth was the matter with Maria s nose ? 
 It never used to loom up like that. Why, it was 
 frightful. Was it going to keep on developing in 
 like ratio in the years to come? Jonathan shrank 
 from the contemplation of such a possibility. 
 
 His conciliating tone did not produce the desired 
 
effect. Overcoming her momentary weakness, Maria 
 rose in wrath unappeasable. 
 
 " Don t you stand gawkin at me another minute, 
 Jonathan Mollify I ve had to bear enough to-day at 
 the convention without being annoyed at home. Hard 
 as I ve worked, and as much money as I ve spent in 
 the cause, if it a n t maddening to have another wo 
 man a mere stranger, and of no account at all, except 
 for her pretty face and load of jewelry put above 
 me, and made president of the day, I d like to know 
 what is ? It s the first time since the society was or 
 ganized that anybody s got ahead of me like that, 
 and I just won t stand it. Do you hustle round and 
 make that fire, or I 11 know the reason why." 
 
 What was the reason that Jonathan could not 
 budge ? 
 
 " Do you hear me? Get up and make the fire. 
 It s late." 
 
 A sudden and astonishing spirit of bravery per 
 vaded the down-trodden man. He felt like a lion. 
 He was n t going to stand any more of Maria s hen- 
 pecking, no, not one atom more. Not even though 
 she had the audacity to shake him, and yell in his ear 
 the same old refrain. " Get up Jonathan ! get up and 
 make the fire." 
 
 " I 11 be cussed if I will," he roared. " I 11 never 
 touch that blamed old stove again as long as I live. 
 
132 
 
 I Ve stood this sort of thing long enough. If you 
 want a fire, build it yourself." 
 
 " Oh, dear, dear, I never thought you d speak so 
 to me, Johnnie," grieved a plaintive voice. 
 
 " You can Johnnie me as much as you like, but 
 you can t pull the wool over my eyes that way. I 
 tell you I won t do it. Build it yourself." 
 
 " There, now, it s true, it s true what Sarah 
 Snifkins told me, that I was a fool to get married, for 
 my husband would domineer over me in less than 
 six months, and make me do all the chores. I got 
 mad at her, and said I knew my Johnnie never would 
 do any such thing ; but now you have, you have, and 
 I me going right straight h-home to my m-ma ! " 
 
 John Mollify sat up in bed, and stared at his 
 weeping wife. 
 
 "Why what where am I, anyhow? Where s 
 Jonathan and Jeremiah, and the rest of the babies ? 
 Isn t it 2010? " 
 
 " Two thousand ten, you crazy man ! Of course 
 not. And what do you mean by talking about the 
 babies? We havn t any babies, Johnnie." 
 
 Maria blushed rosy red, and gazed in wide-eyed 
 astonishment at her bewildered husband. 
 
 " And you re not President of the Grand Union 
 Female Association of Liberty and Equality ? Let 
 me see your nose." 
 
- 133- 
 
 Maria by this time had serious doubts as to the 
 man s sanity. She was beginning to feel afraid of 
 him. Her nose, indeed. 
 
 " Cunning as ever," he said, investigating the 
 member. " By George, Maria, I believe I must have 
 been dreaming. I say, ducky, what were you crying 
 about? Was I cross to you? Never mind, pet, you 
 know I didn t mean it. I was asleep. Kiss and make 
 up." 
 
 " O, Johnnie, how you did frighten me ! I m 
 ever so glad it was only a dream. But you ll have to 
 get up, quick, for you ve overslept we re half an 
 hour late. It s those oysters, I know. I told you 
 last night not to eat too many." 
 
 John dressed himself hastily, an abstracted look 
 still upon his face. 
 
 " What were you dreaming about, Johnnie? " 
 
 Mr. Mollify was intently hunting for his other 
 boot. 
 
 " I say, Johnnie, what were you dreaming 
 about?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing," pulling the missing article out 
 from under the bed ; " that is, I don t remember. I 
 never can remember my dreams, can you? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, sometimes," asserted the curious wife. 
 " I wish you would try and remember this one. You 
 acted so strangely." 
 
-134- 
 
 " Don t you want to go down to Norwell s to-day, 
 and buy that crushed-strawberry hat you admired so 
 much yesterday?" 
 
 An abrupt change of subject, but an agreeable 
 one. 
 
 " O you darling, of course I do ! Can I really 
 have it?" 
 
 "Yes," said John, " I feel as if I d like to make 
 you a present. That s because you are such a good 
 little wife. You d better go the first thing, before 
 any one else gets it." 
 
 " You dear boy ! " cried Maria delightedly. " Be 
 cause I don t really need it, you know. But it s such 
 a beauty." 
 
 John said nothing, but wrestled with the kitchen 
 stove, congratulating himself that he was only six 
 months married, and that his wife didn t know the 
 difference between nomination and election, or any 
 other political terms. 
 
REUBEN HALL S CHRISTMAS. 
 
 " CHRISTMAS! fol-de-rol ! What s Christmas 
 V_^ more n any other day? I ve no money to 
 spare for such foolish notions. I reckon what we 
 have year in n 3^ear out s plenty good enough for 
 any day, no matter f tis Christmas." 
 
 " But, Reuben, the children would be ^pleased," 
 Here the span of bays broke into a sharp trot urged 
 by Farmer Hall s relentless whip, and the old market 
 wagon, devoid of springs or cushions, rattled and 
 jolted so persistent!) that further conversation was 
 rendered impossible. Good Mrs. Hall could do naught 
 but cling desperately to the seat and gaze reproach 
 fully at her obdurate husband. Not another word 
 spoke Reuben until they reached home, and then, 
 ignoring the subject uppermost in her heart, he 
 bluntly remarked : " Reckon you ll have to spin 
 around lively to get supper in season," offering no 
 assistance as she cautiously descended from her lofty 
 perch. 
 
 The door opened quickly and a brace of blue- 
 eyed, fair-haired girls of fourteen years of age ran 
 
 (135) 
 
- 136- 
 
 gaily to meet the tired woman, and took the pack 
 ages of tea and coffee, soap and candles, and other use 
 ful articles, from her arms. Her worn, sad face lighted 
 up as she followed her twin daughters into the warm 
 kitchen, there to behold the table nicely spread for 
 supper and the bread she had expected to mold and 
 bake, in beautifully browned loaves upon the cake- 
 board. 
 
 (< I did it myself, mother," said Gertrude, delight 
 edly, " and it s just as nice ! I think it s such fun to 
 make bread." 
 
 lyittle Mrs. Hall made up her mind that if it were 
 not " fun " to come home and find nothing to do till 
 milking-time, it was something akin to it, and her 
 voice was a little unsteady as she praised the girls for 
 their thought fulness, and then inquired for Johnnie. 
 
 "Johnnie? Oh, he s in the stable, I guess. He 
 stays in there every day, but I can t think what tie 
 does it for." 
 
 " Mamma," interposed Katie, " did you say any 
 thing to father about Christmas?" 
 
 " Yes, dear, I did, but I m afraid, girls, you will 
 have to get along as usual. I couldn t seem to make 
 any impression on him." 
 
 " Now, I call that too mean for anything," sobbed 
 Katie, " when everybody else has such good times, 
 too." A heavy footstep, and the opening door 
 
137 
 
 silenced the words upon her lips, and Johnnie, a 
 sturdy boy of eleven, having made his appearance, 
 the family sat down to supper. 
 
 Reuben Hall would have been greatly astonished 
 if anyone had told him he was not a good man. He 
 considered himself an exemplary citizen, attended 
 church oftener than some of his neighbors, worked 
 hard and saw that his family always had plenty to eat 
 and drink. It did not occur to him that, while pro 
 viding for their most pressing temporal wants, he 
 withheld entirely too much for which their souls hun 
 gered. He did not realize that his patient wife would 
 willingly have gone without food for a day for the 
 sake of an endearing word that never came, or a fond 
 look from the eyes that rested so indifferently upon 
 her. He had no patience with the longings of his 
 children for beautiful surroundings, pretty clothes, 
 entertaining books, pictures, and the like. " All fol- 
 de-rol !" was his favorite comment, and the well-worn 
 money pouch was never opened in response to 
 entreaties for such pleasures. 
 
 The mother had broached the subject of cele 
 brating Christmas while in the neighboring city, mark 
 eting with her husband, but, as has been perceived, 
 without the desired result. Reuben Hall had a com 
 fortable bank account, and was making money on his 
 
138 
 
 ranch, but lie had nothing to spare for Christmas 
 " foolery," as he termed it. 
 
 A week passed. One morning Mr. Hall made his 
 appearance in the kitchen with a troubled coun 
 tenance. 
 
 " Mother," he queried, " can t you fly around and 
 catch the ten o clock train for Bay City? " 
 
 " Mercy on us, Reuben ! " and down went a 
 shower of milk on the astonished cat. Hastily set 
 ting down the pan, Mrs. Hall interrogated. " What 
 do you want me to go to Bay City for?" It was 
 indeed a strange request for her husband to make, 
 since he seldom thought it necessary for anyone but 
 himself to leave home, with its duties. 
 
 " It s about that business with Symonds he sends 
 word it must be attended to to day, and you know 
 what Symonds is he won t wait for nobody. I d 
 oughter go myself, but it s no use, I can t with all 
 that seeding to be done and the men in the field 
 a-ready. So you just put on your bunnit and I ll 
 drive you right over to the depot. Be quick ; I don t 
 want to lose 110 more time an I can help." 
 
 Mrs. Hall, considerably flustered, complied with 
 her husband s request, and in ten minutes was speed 
 ing on her way to the station, three miles distant, 
 while Gertrude and Katie assumed, to the best of 
 their ability, the tasks to be performed in her absence. 
 
- 139- 
 
 The day wore on, and the early twilight fell over 
 the broad valley. The train from Bay City was not 
 due until seven o clock. Supper was served promptly 
 by the girls, and then the farmer, sitting outside the 
 door enjoying his pipe preparatory to the drive over 
 to the station, in the mild December air peculiar to 
 Southern California, overheard a conversation between 
 his daughters as they busily set the kitchen to rights, 
 taking care to reserve in a warm place for " mother" 
 the choicest portions of the meal. They evidently 
 had no suspicion that he was within hearing, and 
 their outspoken comments strangely disturbed the 
 involuntary listener. 
 
 " I just wish father would do different," said 
 Katie, " we should love him so much more, and I m 
 sure mother would be happier." 
 
 " Yes," indeed," replied Gertrude, " only last 
 night I found her crying in the west room, with a 
 lot of old letters in her lap. She tried to hide them 
 under her apron, but I coaxed her to let me peep at 
 them, and what do you think they were ? Old love- 
 letters of father s, and they must have been ever so 
 sweet, for I caught sight of dears and darlings 
 enough for anybody ! Would you believe from the 
 way father treats mother now that he ever made love 
 to her ? I know she was thinking of the difference, 
 and that was what made her cry. I don t think a 
 
140 
 
 man has any business to promise a girl all sorts of 
 things to, make her happy, and then take no pains to 
 keep his word, but just make a servant of her," 
 exclaimed Katie, impulsively. " Did you ever in 
 your life hear father call mother a pet name ? And 
 see how thoughtless he is about her health ! If he 
 won t let us have a good time, I do wish he would be 
 more kind to her." 
 
 Gertrude, whose temperament was more sedate, 
 said : " It is not nice of us to be talking so about our 
 father, but I can t help wondering sometimes how he 
 would feel if mother should die." 
 
 A shock went over Reuben Hall s sturdy frame. 
 " If mother should die !" Visions, hitherto strangers 
 to his thoughts, flitted through his brain. It was 
 not impossible " mother " might die and what 
 then ? In one great rush of awakened feeling, the 
 man realized how empty life would be to him with 
 out the chosen companion of his early manhood and 
 matured years. The anger which had arisen at the 
 harsh criticism of his children faded away, and was 
 replaced by a chaos of thoughts which were very dis 
 agreeable to entertain. Thus aroused, and condemn 
 ing himself for having allowed his wife to take such 
 a sudden journey, he harnessed the bays and departed 
 for the station to meet her. It was now quite dark, 
 save for the twinkling stars which thickly studded 
 
the heavens, but the faithful horses knew the road 
 well, and soon landed him at the depot, where a few 
 loungers were awaiting the coming of the train. Ten, 
 fifteen, twenty minutes passed, but no shrill whistle 
 broke the stillness of the night. The station maste r 
 began to look perplexed. 
 
 " Where s yer train ? " halloeed an idler. 
 
 "You know as much about it as I do," was the 
 answer. " It ought to have been here ten minutes 
 ago." Another wait, and then everybody began to 
 get excited. 
 
 " Something s happened sure as you live," 
 declared Nathen Bent, a neighbor of the Halls, to 
 Reuben. 
 
 " Great God ! I m afraid there has and my wife 
 is on the train." The man shook like a leaf, and 
 great drops of perspiration coursed down his face. 
 
 " You don t say !" and a circle gathered around 
 Reuben. " It looks mighty bad, and that s a fact, but 
 don t give up heart yet, neighbor." 
 
 The click of the telegraph at last put an end to 
 the dreadful suspense, but the tidings it brought were 
 sad indeed : " Collision between Mendon and Langley. 
 Seven killed and twelve injured." Not a word more ! 
 nothing to cool the fever heat in every breast. 
 
 Reuben Hall groaned in anguish of spirit. It 
 seemed impossible that his wife could be uninjured, 
 
- 142 - 
 
 while the chances were great that she was among the 
 killed. Few, if any, could have escaped unhurt, for 
 there never were many passengers on this train- 
 often less than the number reported as victims of the 
 disaster. How could it have happened ? Oh, if he 
 had not sent her on the fateful journey ! If he had 
 gone himself, as he ought, seeding or no seeding, she 
 would now be safe at home by the fireside, while he 
 where would he be? The strong man trembled, 
 and confessed to his accusing conscience that he was 
 not as well prepared to go before the tribunal of 
 Heavenly justice as his faithful wife. By a chance 
 turn of Fortune s wheel, he was spared this time, but 
 his summons might come in an equally unsuspected 
 manner. Would it find him in readiness ? 
 
 " They ll telegraph back to Bay City, likely, for 
 a relief train," said someone, and then they ll come 
 on down this way. They d orter be here in a couple 
 of hours." Two hours ! What an eternity of misery 
 can be condensed in that short space of time ! Two 
 hours before Reuben Hall could know whether his 
 wife, who never before seemed so dear, still existed. 
 Who shall portray the emotions which were experi 
 enced by the unhappy man in that period of waiting 
 for the knowledge which might be so crushing when 
 it came ? 
 
 Gertrude, Katie and Johnnie, sitting in the bright 
 
- H3 - 
 
 kitchen, listening for the familiar rattle of the old 
 market wagon, grew sleepy and finally alarmed at the 
 non-appearance of their parents. Nine o clock, ten 
 struck, still the welcome sound came cot. The appe 
 tizing supper prepared for the tired mother dried in 
 the oven, and the unheeded fire went out. A chill 
 crept over the little room, and over the hearts of the 
 frightened children. The hands crept slowly around 
 to eleven ; once more the clock struck, still the 
 silence was unbroken, save by sobs and hushed 
 words. All at once Gertrude sprang up and cried, 
 " What are we sitting here doing nothing for, when 
 father and mother may have been thrown out, and no 
 one to help them ! I m going over to Mr. Norton s." 
 They were all too excited to reflect that, had such an 
 accident occurred, the horses would probably have 
 come straight home ; and Gertrude opened the door 
 to carry out her purpose of arousing the neighbors 
 when could she believe her ears far away she 
 heard a faint rumble on the depot road. "Listen, 
 Katie; listen, Johnnie," she cried, quivering with 
 excitement, while brother and sister flew to the open 
 door. The rumble grew louder. " It is, it is, they 
 are coming at last," and they fairly danced for joy. 
 
 Yes, coming at a pace to which the steady bays 
 were seldom put coming with a rattle and flourish 
 up to the garden gate. 
 
- 144 
 
 Down sprang Reuben Hall with more activity 
 than he had shown for years, then turned and care 
 fully lifted from the high seat a pale, exhausted little 
 woman. What was the girls surprise to see their 
 father carry her quite to the kitchen door, where he 
 deposited his burden, and said in a low tone to which 
 his children s ears were not accustomed, " Don t 
 bother your mother with no more questions, but get 
 her right to bed, and fix her a cup of hot tea. She s 
 dead beat out." Then, seeing the looks of wonder 
 and the traces of tears, he continued: "There s 
 been a smash-up on the road, audit s a wonder your 
 mother wa nt hurt. She s been doing for them that 
 was till she can t hardly stand. I spose you got 
 scared, didn t ye?" 
 
 It was a happy, thankful family that gathered 
 around the breakfast table at an unusually late hour 
 the next morning. Little Mrs. Hall looked like a 
 new being, despite her fatigue, with such a pretty 
 pink flush on her cheeks, and such a bright light in 
 the e} r es that looked almost with girlish shyness over 
 to the face of her husband. The remembrance of 
 the fervent embrace, like those of old which she had 
 long missed, that he had given her on the arrival of 
 the relief train at the station, was fresh in her mind ; 
 also, the agitation he had shown, and the deference 
 of his manner ever since. Her heart had not been 
 
- H5- 
 
 so light for years, and surely no breakfast was ever 
 so good as this ! A corresponding change had crept 
 over Mr. Hall s countenance. The children wondered 
 that they had never thought their father fine-looking 
 before, and rejoiced at the removal of the cloud which 
 had rested over the household. 
 
 It would be folly to assert that Reuben Hall 
 never for a moment relapsed into the old ways 
 human nature is weak, and the force of habit strong 
 but he pulled himself up short when he realized his 
 remissness and strove to make amends by redoubled 
 kindness towards his family. 
 
 Christmas came, and proved the merriest that the 
 Halls had ever known. In the first place, there was 
 a row of stockings, stuffed full and running over, 
 hanging by the sitting room fire-place, and more good 
 things came out of those receptacles than I can begin 
 to enumerate. Then, about ten o clock, who should 
 drive up to the door, in a brand new, covered car 
 riage, but Mr Hall, and the bays, in shining, silver- 
 mounted harness, held their heads high in seeming 
 consciousness of their improved appearance. 
 
 " Thought we might as well have a decent turn 
 out," said Reuben, " seein the old market wagon s 
 done duty so long." And then he commanded them 
 all to " git on their best fixin s and ride over to aunt 
 Sarah s" to a turkey dinner that had been prepared 
 
- 146 
 
 for their coming. And when they got home there 
 was the best room so metamorphosed that Mrs. Hall 
 stood in the middle of it and looked around her in 
 bewilderment. Actually a bright new carpet and set 
 of furniture, and - here the girls screamed with delight 
 a parlor organ, with a music book open upon it. 
 Johnnie came in from the stable, where he had spent 
 so much time of late, bearing a nicely-stained set of 
 book shelves for his mother, and a carved bracket for 
 each of his sisters. " How ever did you do it, John 
 nie?" asked Katie. 
 
 " With my bracket saw that I bought out of the 
 money I made with my chickens," he answered, 
 proudly. The chickens referred to were a brood 
 belonging to a hen which Johnnie had raised since the 
 day it came feebly out of its shell and been deserted 
 by its stronger mates and hard-hearted mother. 
 
 " After this you shall all have chickens of your 
 own, and do what you please with the money," said 
 the father. 
 
 It grew dark, and then Mr. Hall made anew, and 
 for him strange, proposition : " Let s all go over to 
 the village to the festival," he urged. " Come, we 
 might as well make a complete thing of it, as long as 
 we re celebratin . The neighbors are goin , and 
 there ll be fun likely." 
 
 So off they went; sure enough there was " fun," 
 
- 147 
 
 and when at last they settled themselves to sleep, it 
 was with the firm belief that never before was there 
 a happier day than Reuben Hall s Christmas. 
 
MRS. BRIGHTON S BURGLAR. 
 
 THE clock struck three. As its silvery chimes 
 ceased, a slight noise was heard in the handsome 
 apartment where Mrs. Brighton lay sleeping. The 
 light from the hall lamp shone dimly through the 
 half open door upon the bed and the dressing case 
 beside it, leaving the rest of the room in darkness. 
 
 A stalwart figure stood before the mirror, swiftly 
 but silently turning over the contents of a drawer. 
 It was the opening of this drawer which had dis 
 turbed the stillness of the night so faintly. Mrs. 
 Brighton opened her eyes just in time to see a dia 
 mond ring disappear in the burglar s pocket. His 
 hands closed upon a dainty purse. 
 
 " Who steals my purse steals trash!" The dark 
 figure started. Whence came that clear and quiet 
 voice? He glanced apprehensively at the bed, and 
 met the gaze of a brown-eyed woman who seemed as 
 unmoved as if she were sitting in her parlor talking 
 with an ordinary caller. The intruder stared dumbly. 
 
 " Fact !" continued the calm voice. " I ll prove 
 
 (148) 
 
it to you; open it!" And now the tone was com 
 manding. 
 
 Mechanically the burglar obeyed. A solitary 
 nickel dropped from the purse. 
 
 " Now, sir," said the lady, in a firm though not 
 unfriendly tone, " aren t you ashamed of yourself, 
 breaking into a person s house like this?" 
 
 The man hesitated. " Tell the truth," said Mrs. 
 Brighton, imperiously. 
 
 " Yes, lady, I am," he blurted out in an impul 
 sive, honest way. 
 
 " Then take off that mask." 
 
 The man started. " No !" he said. 
 
 Take it off!" insisted Mrs. Brighton. "I do 
 like to have my own way. Oblige me, and you will 
 not be sorry for it." 
 
 He pulled it off, and looked at her with embar 
 rassment and shame. She saw a gaunt face, young, 
 blue-eyed, and yet hardened into the lineaments of a 
 confirmed criminal. 
 
 "Ah!" she murmured to herself, "I thought it 
 quite likely." Then, aloud, " I wish you would tell 
 me how you chanced to take up this hazardous and 
 dishonest life." 
 
 " I haven t been in it long, ma am," he said, very 
 low. " I was driven to it. I had lost my job and 
 
couldn t get anything to do and and one must 
 have something to eat, ma am." 
 
 " True ! And so you thought you would help 
 yourself to the property of other people. But haven t 
 you lost something in the process ?" 
 
 " I hadn t anything to lose, ma am." 
 
 " You had honesty ! a clear conscience ! appro 
 bation of the great Judge ! Was it worth while to 
 part with them, even to assuage hunger?" 
 
 " I hadn t thought of it that way, ma am." 
 
 " I realize how hard it has been for you," said 
 Mrs. Brighton, " as much as anyone can realize it who 
 has not experienced such privation. I know that you 
 were desperate and tempted. Your face tells me that 
 crime does not come to you naturally. Have you a 
 mother?" 
 
 The young man quivered. " She is dead," he 
 replied. 
 
 " Perhaps her spirit is hovering over you at this 
 moment. Would you like to have her see you com 
 mit a robbery?" 
 
 " My God, no !" 
 
 " Then, take my advice, and try once more to 
 lead an honest life. Act as if your mother were con 
 scious of every thought and deed she may be, for 
 aught that any of us know. Pray for help and guid- 
 
ance. Don t be ashamed to pray, young man. Will 
 you try?" 
 
 Tears rolled down the stranger s face as he 
 bowed his head he could not speak. 
 
 " I will give you a little starter, and show you 
 that T trust you. Take the cover off that bon-bon 
 box there beside the cushion, at your right." 
 Several bright gold pieces lay within. " Take one," 
 she said. 
 
 " I can t take anything from you, ma am," and 
 the young fellow dropped the diamond ring among 
 the gold pieces. 
 
 " Yes, you can, as a gift from me, when I wish it 
 very much. I set aside a tenth for benevolent work, 
 always, and I am sure that you need assistance as 
 much as any one I know. Only make good use of 
 it, and never, never break into anybody s house 
 again." 
 
 " God bless you, ma am," he said, as he took out 
 one only one - of the shining coins. " I ll never 
 forget your kindness, and I ll do the best I can." 
 
 " Good-bye, then, and hurry, for I hear someone 
 coming." He swung himself out of the open win 
 dow, and clambered down the trellis, as Mrs. 
 Brighton s servant came along the hall with a light 
 in her hand, and peered into her mistress room. 
 
T 5 2 
 
 "I thought I heard somebody talking, ma am," 
 she said. 
 
 "Very likely it was I, Martha, babbling in my 
 sleep. Too much supper, no doubt." 
 
 " All right, ma am," replied Martha, somewhat 
 ambiguously, and departed to her couch, 
 
 " Why wasn t I afraid ?" mused Mrs. Brighton, 
 as the silence of night once more closed in around 
 her. " I always supposed I would be dreadfully 
 scared if any one broke into the house, yet I never 
 felt calmer in my life than when I discovered that I 
 was not alone. It must have been some occult force 
 that impressed me with the fact that there was no 
 danger. Why, only last evening I was reading of a 
 terrible murder committed by a robber in the house. 
 It would not be wise to try philanthropy with that 
 kind of a person. But this poor boy needs help. I 
 believe he will come out all right." 
 
 With a sigh of pity for the vast hords of unfor 
 tunates to whom life is a bitter struggle in a world 
 of plenty, Mrs. Brighton fell asleep. 
 
 It was a perfect day, some years later, and Mrs. 
 Brighton availed herself of it to pay a long-deferred 
 call upon a friend living in the suburb of Mayville, 
 to which the electric line which passed her house 
 had latelj r been extended. The car stopped at her 
 signal, and the conductor stood ready to assist her 
 
- 153- 
 
 on board. He gave her a scrutinizing glance, one 
 that was almost keen in its intensity, as he helped 
 her up the steps, and she observed that he was an 
 honest- faced young man, with a cheery, healthy look 
 and a pleasant voice. One by one the passengers left 
 the car, until Mrs. Brighton was the only one remain 
 ing inside, for her friend lived a little beyond the 
 terminus of the road, in a thinly settled region. 
 
 Suddenly the conductor walked up to her. "May 
 I speak to you, madam ? " he queried. 
 
 " Certainly," she replied, with some surprise. 
 
 " You do not recollect ever having seen me 
 before?" 
 
 She scanned him closely. " No," she said. 
 
 " I am the burglar who broke into your house 
 four years ago." 
 
 " Indeed," ejaculated Mrs. Brighton. "I see the 
 resemblance now you speak of it. The moustache 
 changes you." 
 
 " I am changed in many ways, thanks to your 
 counsel and assistance, madam. I hoped I might 
 tell you so, sometime. I took this route because it 
 passed your house, and have always looked for you. 
 The money that you gave me supported me until I 
 found work. I got into good company, and finally I 
 got married yes, I have a wife and baby now." 
 
-154- 
 
 "I am so glad," was all that Mrs. Brighton could 
 say, but her face shone with pleasure. 
 
 " I told my wife all about it, and she just reveres 
 you, madam, as I do myself. I wish you could see 
 her and the baby." 
 
 " Bring them to my house, sometime," said Mrs. 
 Brighton, as the car stopped. 
 
 " Thank you, I will," replied the conductor, help 
 ing her to the ground with the utmost care, and 
 touching his hat as she turned away. 
 
 " Bread cast upon the waters does sometimes 
 return," thought Mrs. Brighton, with a light heart, 
 as she hastened toward the home of her friend. 
 
THROUGH NIGHT TO LIGHT. 
 
 OTHER! Mother! Let me see your face; 
 nay, do not grieve so ; I am not afraid to 
 die, and God knows best ; there must be some good 
 reason for this something you will know, though it 
 seems hard now. Dear mother, He will not leave you 
 comfortless He has promised it." 
 
 <( Oh! my child, how can I look calmly on and 
 see you pass out of my life, stricken down on the very 
 threshold of manhood my hope ! my joy ! my one 
 incentive for existence ! What is there left for me 
 when you are gone ? I can not face the future it is 
 all dark. I do not want to grope my way through 
 the gloom. Oh, that I might die, too !" 
 
 "Lay your head down by mine, mother so; 
 now kiss me. You always used to be so strong ; it is 
 not like you to give way so utterly. If I, your little 
 boy, whom you guided so carefully along the crooked 
 ways of this world, do not fear to enter that unknown 
 world above, should not you be brave ? It will be 
 but a little while ere we shall meet again. Think of 
 that joyous union, where we shall live in perfect hap- 
 
 (155) 
 
-156- 
 
 piness, our trials at an end ! Think of that, dear 
 mother, and your burden will grow lighter. 
 
 " Henry, I will try to be strong; your faith and 
 courage rebuke me. But if anything, everything 
 else, had been taken, and my son had been left me. I 
 can not see yet why I should be deprived of the 
 solace of my declining years, or how I can live with 
 out you, my darling." 
 
 " There will be a way provided, mother; I am 
 sure of that. And I can go easier now that the ranch 
 is paid for, and I know that you have a good home." 
 
 " Ah, my son, how you have worked to provide 
 your mother with this home ! And I felt so proud of 
 my manly boy and so happy in the expectation of 
 spending the remainder of my life in this quiet spot, 
 with grandchildren clustering at my kees. Oh ! what 
 is it, Henry?" 
 
 " Only a little twinge of pain it s over now ; and 
 I was thinking of Annie dear Annie. You ll tell 
 her now how devotedly I loved her, and that I was 
 only waiting till the load of debt was off our shoul 
 ders before asking her to come and make us both 
 happy. She would have been a good daughter to you, 
 mother ; but it was not to be, and I will not rebel. I 
 hope she ll be happy and think of me sometimes when 
 she has formed other ties. And, mother, there s 
 something else I want to speak about." 
 
-157- 
 
 " What is it, my child ?" 
 
 " It is about you and father." 
 
 " Do not rake up the past, Henry. He has 
 chosen his path, and I have chosen mine. Long years 
 ago they diverged so utterly that no trace of either 
 to the other was visible. I do not want to think of 
 your father now ; I want to think only of you, my 
 poor, crashed, dying boy, in the few short hours that 
 I may keep you with me." 
 
 " But I can not die happily with you two unrec 
 onciled. O, mother, won t you promise me some 
 thing? Won t you send father a kindly message? 
 Won t you take the first step ? I believe it would 
 all come right. He did wrong, but he was sorry 
 afterward, and you would not forgive him. Do this 
 for me, mother. Write to father." 
 
 " Henry, it can not be. I do not know where he 
 is, and if I did, I could not write to him. He for 
 feited all claim upon his wife when he let the gaming 
 table conquer his duty to his family, and sacrificed 
 his home, his reputation everything a true man 
 should live for in order to gratify a degrading pas 
 sion. He did beg me to take him back so does every 
 weak drunkard and gambler in the land, and their 
 vows are not worth a moment s consideration. When 
 their fault is condoned, they take the first opportu- 
 
158 
 
 nity to repeat it, and so it goes on, to the lasting 
 misery of everyone connected with them." 
 
 " Do not speak so bitterly, mother; I like better 
 to see your face when it is lighted up by the sweet 
 smile that has always greeted me since I can remem 
 ber. True, the promises of the erring are often 
 broken, for human nature is weak, and habits once 
 formed link their fetters of steel with relentless 
 power around their deluded victim ; but sometimes a 
 man s eyes are so clearly opened to see the error of 
 his ways that no amount of persuasion can induce 
 him to return to them again. I believe it was so with 
 father; in fact, I have convincing proof of it." 
 
 " You are too sanguine, Henry. What has 
 become of your father I know not ; but I presume he 
 has sunk lower and lower down the scale of degrada 
 tion, if he still lives. What do you mean by con 
 vincing proof? 
 
 " Mother, I know where father is I found out 
 yesterday in town. And he s a steady, industrious 
 man I m sure of it. Where s my coat the breast 
 pocket you ll find a clipping; read it." 
 
 " Mr. James H. Mellen, our popular postmaster, 
 reports that the business of his office during the 
 quarter ending September 3Oth exceeds that of any 
 other quarter since he has been in charge. It will be 
 remembered that Mr. Mellen was appointed to the 
 
-159- 
 
 postmastership nearly eight years ago, not long after 
 his arrival in Daturah from Sonoma, Cal." 
 
 " I saw that in an Iowa paper, mother; and you 
 know that father went to Sonoma. This must be 
 father, and you see he is popular and occupies a good 
 position. Now will you write to him, mother? " 
 
 " Can it be possible? It seems likely, and yet I 
 fear there is some mistake. Would that he were 
 again a useful and respected member of society. But, 
 even then, my son, I could not write to him after all 
 these years. He would not care to hear from me." 
 
 " Try him, mother." 
 
 " Perhaps he has another family." 
 
 " I do not believe it, mother." 
 
 " Divorces are easy to get now-a-days, and he 
 could say I deserted him." 
 
 "I don t think he did, mother; write and see. 
 Tell him where you are; tell him your boy is ." 
 
 " Oh, Henry, Henry, don t, don t say it ! I ll do as 
 you wish, darling, if it will make your mind easier, 
 I ll forgive and forget, and he shall answer me or not. 
 as he pleases. If some other woman is making him 
 happy, I will not repine. My son s last moments 
 shall not be worried by obstinacy of mine." 
 
 " That s my own dear mother ! And one thing 
 more you love him a little yet, do you not?" 
 
 " Henry, if he be true and worthy, never would 
 
- i6o 
 
 wife be more tender than I if our paths, so long 
 estranged, should unite again." 
 
 " Then write write, now don t wait !" 
 Without another word the mother left her son s 
 bedside to comply with his request. Henry Mellen, 
 but twenty-four hours ago in the vigorous health of 
 early manhood, lay helpless upon the couch from 
 which he would never rise. Delayed longer than 
 usual in the neighboring town of Kellyville, whither 
 he had gone with a load of wood to sell, he had 
 thought to gain time by returning on a different road 
 a shorter cut, but having a steep, winding grade, in 
 places so narrow, where it had been cut from the hill 
 side, that it was impossible for teams to pass each 
 other, and a slight swerving from the road would 
 inevitably precipitate anyone from fifty to one hun 
 dred feet down the bank. Henry had been over this 
 road countless times, and, like all Californians accus 
 tomed to rough travel, had never apprehended dan 
 ger; but darkness came on before he reached the 
 grade, coupled with a thick fog, so that he found it 
 difficult to distinguish the pathway before him. 
 Regretting that he had not taken the longer circuit, 
 as the fog settled around him, he reflected that the 
 chances were nine to ten that he would meet no one 
 coming up the grade at that hour, the horses knew 
 the road well, and would take him safely to the valley 
 
- 161 - 
 
 below. All went well until the last curve but one 
 was rounded, when the horses stumbled over an 
 obstruction, the wagon tipped abruptly to one side, 
 there was a scramble, a frantic effort to keep the 
 track, and then the wagon, horses, and, alas, poor 
 Henry Mellen, went crashing down the hillside. 
 
 There they were found some hours later, when 
 the mother, alarmed at the prolonged absence of her 
 son, had aroused the neighbors and a search had been 
 instituted. Mrs. Mellen s first thought had been of 
 the grade, as Henry had on several other occasions 
 laughed at her fears and taken the shorter road, and 
 thither the steps of the men were directed. 
 
 They soon discovered that a landslide had taken 
 place, partially blocking the road, and their worst 
 anticipations were realized by the evidences of the 
 accident that had taken place. 
 
 One horse was killed and the other so badly hurt 
 that he was speedily put out of his misery. Henry 
 was found to have received fatal spinal injuries. He 
 suffered little, but his hours were numbered. It was 
 after the doctor had candidly stated the facts of the 
 case that the foregoing conversation between mother 
 and son took place. 
 
 The letter was written. Mrs. Mellen enclosed 
 the newspaper clipping, and said that if the post 
 master referred to was her husband of years ago, she 
 
162 
 
 congratulated him on his honorable career, which had 
 gained him the esteem of his townspeople, and sin 
 cerely regretted the harsh words which would have 
 driven a weaker man to moral destruction. Their boy 
 was dying, and by his bedside she implored his for 
 giveness for all .her shortcomings as she freely for 
 gave the wrongdoing which had been the cause of 
 their separation. 
 
 Henry listened to the letter, a smile of content 
 creeping over his white face, and his last words were 
 full of confidence that happiness was yet in store for 
 his estranged parents. 
 
 It was early in December when he died. One 
 perfect day followed another with a prodigality un 
 known in the East. The occasional gentle showers 
 revivified the earth until it put on a garb of freshest 
 verdure. Dainty blossoms of every hue sprang up on 
 the broad plains, all over the hills, in every nook and 
 corner. The birds caroled their sweetest lays like 
 those of spring time for was not this the California 
 spring? 
 
 Christmas day dawned the beautiful Christmas 
 so unlike that of which the poets sing ; and in the 
 home of Henry Mellen s mother there was much sad 
 ness and little rejoicing. The weary shoulders were 
 not quite fitted to the burden yet, but they were mak 
 ing a brave eftort to shape themselves, and every day 
 
-i6 3 - 
 
 the sad lips murmured : * Thy will, not mine, be 
 done." 
 
 Who is this walking so swiftly up the path and 
 knocking so imperatively upon the door? A tall fig 
 ure, a bearded face, the hair thickly streaked with 
 gray, that sends a strange thrill over the breathless 
 watcher. She can scarcely throw open the door ; but 
 she is in no danger of falling, for strong arms support 
 her, warm kisses are pressed upon lips and brow, a 
 fond voice whispers, " My wife ! My precious wife 
 at last!" 
 
 " Peace on earth ! good will to men ! " Did 
 angels ever bequeath to mortals a sweeter motto ? Not 
 alone for remembrance on the blessed anniversary 
 of our Saviour s birth, but for constant use amid the 
 trials and perplexities of every-day life. 
 
 " I tried to find you," said Mr. Mellen, " after I 
 was certain that the old temptation had no power over 
 me ; but you had vanished, leaving no trace of your 
 whereabouts. Then I went East, feeling that I had 
 but one thing to live for, and that was to retrieve my 
 lost reputation. I have succeeded, and by the mem 
 ory of that dear son who so nobly strove to fill the 
 place I left vacant, I solemnly vow that nothing shall 
 henceforth be left undone that will in any degree 
 atone for the suffering I have caused you. Be com 
 forted, dear wife, you are not left alone." 
 
164 
 
 " O blessed day, which gives the eternal lie 
 
 To self and sense, and all the brute within ! 
 
 Oh ! come to us amid this war of life ; 
 
 To hall and hovel, come ; to all who toil 
 
 In senate, shop or study, and to those 
 
 Who, sundered by the wastes of half a world, 
 
 Ill-warmed and sorely tempted, ever face 
 
 Nature s brute powers, and men unmanned to brutes, 
 
 Come to them, blest and blessing, Christmas day. 
 
 Tell them once more the tale of Bethlehem, 
 
 The kneeling shepherds and the Babe divine, 
 
 And keep them men indeed, fair Christmas Day." 
 
THAT UGLY MAN. 
 
 came such a beautiful woman to marry 
 that ugly man," exclaimed a stranger in the 
 city, as the wedding party came from the church. 
 
 " Because she knows what real beauty is," said a 
 gentle faced old lady as she passed. 
 
 I knew the story. I knew Salome Harden when 
 she married at 1 8 a man who had more than his share 
 of personal graces, and I knew what a life she led for 
 the next fifteen years not necessarily because she 
 had married a handsome man, but because in his case 
 beauty was only " skin deep." She had an inkling of 
 the fact once when, for a trifling fault, he unmerci 
 fully lashed the horse that he was driving. It jarred 
 upon her seriously, but could she break an engage 
 ment for a little thing like that ? She had yet to learn 
 that a cruel, unreasonable temper can destroy the 
 happiness of a home. She also discovered that her 
 handsome husband was too much engrossed with 
 himself to take any interest in her pursuits. On her 
 experience I will not dwell. The martyrdom of a 
 
 (165) 
 
- i66 - 
 
 neglected, ill-treated wife is far more common than 
 the world realizes. 
 
 After Salome became a widow, she had no lack 
 of admirers. A few had some attraction for her at 
 first, then a chance act or word would dispel her illu 
 sion. Warned by the past, she took heed when Mr. 
 Prince sneered at a ragged old woman, and Mr. Means 
 kicked an injured dog which had crawled to his feet, 
 and Mr. Sterne could not see the sense of fussing over 
 flowers or reading poetry, and Mr. Pomposity thought 
 that women were getting so that they knew too much, 
 and Mr. Gayfair occassionally took too much wine. 
 
 One Sunday morning, as she took her seat in 
 church, she caught sight of the ugliest little man, pos 
 itively the very ugliest, she thought, that she had ever 
 set eyes on. He was short, and red faced and bald- 
 headed, and had a turned-up nose, and a big mouth 
 and scraggly red whiskers. He sat in the seat directly 
 behind her, and her first feeling was one of thankful 
 ness that he did not sit in front of her. By and bye 
 she noticed that he joined in the hymns with a hearty 
 bass voice, and he actually said the Lord s prayer right 
 out loud at the proper time in the service. Salome 
 had not been accustomed to hearing a man pray. She 
 respected the ugly creature from that time forth. 
 
 Sunday after Sunday passed ; she was a constant 
 church-goer and so was he. Then he was introduced 
 
- i6 7 - 
 
 to her at " a social," and real acquaintance began. 
 She found that he was even more of a reader than her 
 self, that his sympathies were quick, his perceptions 
 delicate. She liked the manly ring in his voice and 
 the strong grasp of his hand. His almost diffident 
 courtesy was a change from the self-assured attentions 
 of the other gentlemen. She was sure that he knew 
 how ugly he was and that his unattractive appear 
 ance deprived him of much of life s pleasure. He 
 must be forty, yet had never been married. 
 
 " Young girls are so foolish," she thought, recall 
 ing how she, as well as others, had reserved all her 
 smiles for the best-looking young men, and more 
 than once had snubbed some freckle-faced youth 
 without regard for his good qualities. 
 
 It was rather a lively winter among the church 
 people, and Salome often met Mr. Hartwell. He 
 seemed to take great pleasure in her society, but 
 always maintained a certain reserve. Salome dis 
 cerned that the nature of this plain little man was 
 not one to be fathomed readily. 
 
 One evening he escorted her home from a meet 
 ing of the literary club. Almost at her doorstep she 
 slipped on a banana peel, turned her ankle, and for 
 an instant lost consciousness with the pain. What 
 woman could faint long within a pair oi embracing 
 arms, with a warm kiss clinging to her lips ? Not 
 
1 68 - 
 
 Salome Harden at any rate. Her astonishment 
 brought her to her senses, and in another moment 
 she was standing very straight and Mr. Hartwell was 
 stammering an apology. 
 
 "You were falling I caught you and and I 
 lost my self-control. Can you forgive me?" With 
 out waiting for an answer, he went on as if the flood 
 gates were opened. He told her how hopelessly he 
 had loved her, how well he knew that no woman 
 could ever marry him ; that he never meant to show 
 his affection, but was grateful for her friendship. 
 
 Something shone in his face that was better than 
 beauty of features. Salome wondered how she could 
 ever have looked with pity upon this man. 
 
 " Will you come in a minute? " she asked. 
 
 Uncertain of her mood, he followed her up the 
 steps. 
 
 She turned as they passed through the parlor 
 door. 
 
 " You said that no woman could ever marry you, 
 Mr. Hartwell You must take that back, for I can. 
 I want to be happy," and she laid her arms about his 
 ueck. 
 
 That kiss had made things clear. Somehow it 
 was not quite like any other kiss she had ever 
 received, and Salome felt that it was what she had 
 been wanting all her life. She forgot all about her 
 
aching ankle. Mr. Hartwell s emotions need not be 
 described, but I will say this : If there is a blissful 
 wedded couple in the universe, " that ugly man " and 
 his beautiful Salome are the identical pair. 
 
THE AWAKENING. 
 
 RETTA RICHARDSON turned from the one 
 window of her little sitting room with a sigh. 
 It was not an entrancing or even interesting scene 
 that she had viewed as she stood between the simple 
 muslin curtains that were caught back on each side 
 by an artistically knotted band of broad blue ribbon. 
 A dusty, cobbly street, lined with small, low, 
 unpainted frame houses, guiltless of the slightest 
 attempt toward ornament structures appearing but 
 half finished to one accustomed to eastern architec 
 ture. Beyond the street, more dirt, more cobble 
 stones, more L,iliputian houses, then along, wide 
 stretch of barren mesa, extending far out to the hori 
 zon line, and broken by a rugged mountain range 
 that rose precipitously from the surface of the plain, 
 some ten miles away. Ten miles, although it did not 
 look half the distance, in the clear, rarefied atmos 
 phere of southern Arizona ; and many more miies the 
 eye scanned in vain for a glimpse of beauty, for one 
 tree to relieve the monotony, for a tiny rivulet or a 
 
 sparkling lake. Bare, dust-colored mesa, distant 
 
 (170) 
 
mountains, and deep blue sky over all these, formed 
 the panorama. 
 
 But this unprepossessing exterior was not the 
 cause of Retta s sigh, although she had been thinking 
 of the dear old home in New England, of the ver 
 dant country town where she was born and bred, and 
 of the roomy, comfortable dwelling of her youthful 
 days, all so great a contrast to her present surround 
 ings. 
 
 The little room in which she stood, though 
 cheaply furnished, was a cosy apartment, with its 
 tasteful arrangement and pretty devices. The sigh 
 issued again from her lips as she looked toward a 
 lounge at one side, whereon the greatest ornament of 
 all reclined, a handsome man, her husband, her 
 own. Tall and athletic in figure, nobly modeled in 
 feature, his wavy brown locks carelessly lying upon 
 the neatly embroidered pillow, his large dark eyes 
 closed in slumber. A picture to fill a fond wife s 
 heart with joyous pride, yet tears gathered in Retta s 
 eyes as she gazed, and she bit her lips in an attempt 
 to control her emotion. 
 
 A loud, stentorous breathing came from under 
 the heavy moustache, unlike the respiration of nat 
 ural slumber. Retta s cherished husband was drunk, 
 and not for the first time. 
 
 She could bear separation from the loved rela- 
 
172- 
 
 tions, banishment from congenial scenes, and the 
 privations and annoyances of frontier life; but this 
 crowning grievance was almost more than she could 
 endure. 
 
 She had, at first, hopefully imagined that she 
 could influence Myron to overcome the temptation ; 
 but she had tried every means in her power and they 
 had proved of no avail. He had started out in busi 
 ness in a small way, hoping to prosper with the 
 growth of the bustling little town, and for a time had 
 done well. But he had succumbed to the degenerat 
 ing influences that are so plentiful in newly settled 
 communities, far from the haunts of a higher state 
 of civilization, and now both he and the business 
 seemed fairly on the road to ruin. No wonder that 
 Retta s tender, lonely heart contracted with anguish, 
 and her courage well-nigh failed her. 
 
 The next morning, when Myron had recovered 
 from the dissipation of the previous day, a day set 
 aside by the rougher elements of the population for 
 excessive indulgence, the holy Sabbath Retta tried 
 once more to reason with him. Not argumentatively, 
 not harshly; but gently, lovingly, fervently. Once 
 Myron had been plunged into depths of shame and 
 remorse at the consciousness that he had allowed 
 liquor to master him, had sworn it should never 
 happen again, that she need not worry, everything 
 
173 
 
 would be all right in the future, as men are sure to 
 swear who falsely gauge their own strength and the 
 enthralling power of drink. All that was past now, 
 as it inevitably becomes in the case of a pampered 
 appetite Myron was moody and irritable now, after 
 a debauch, and impatient of any interference from 
 his wife. 
 
 He swallowed his strong coffee this morning with 
 a clouded brow, scarcely vouching a word to Retta, 
 who sat opposite him, the same pretty, blue-eyed lit 
 tle woman who had once captivated his heart, and 
 who had been cherished as the apple of his eye before 
 the demon drink became her rival. 
 
 "You ll be home to dinner at five, won t you, 
 Myron?" pleaded Retta, knowing it was useless to 
 ask him to come to lunch, for it had been some months 
 now since he had asserted that the pressure of his 
 business required him to take lunch at a restaurant 
 near the store. 
 
 I suppose so," Myron replied, rather ungraci 
 ously. 
 
 " And need you go back, dear? " 
 
 Retta was leaning over her husband s chair now, 
 her arms about his neck. 
 
 " Stay at home with me tonight, and let us read 
 and talk together as we used." 
 
 Bosh ! " exclaimed Myron. " That would be 
 
dull work. How often must I tell you, Retta, that a 
 man can t spend all his days courting? That time is 
 past and gone for us, and it is very unreasonable of 
 you to be so exacting. I ve something else to do 
 beside moping around in the house." 
 
 How different his tones were from the seductive 
 eloquence of that voice not so many years ago ! And 
 this plea of urgent business, which had so often been 
 advanced as an excuse for remaining away until the 
 evening was far spent, if not entirely gone. Retta had 
 worried, at first, about such overwork, but had finally 
 made the discovery that these evenings were mostly 
 spent in some one of the numerous attractively fur 
 nished gambling saloons. 
 
 " Oh, now, dear, don t talk that way. It pains 
 me to hear you say that your wife is dull company. 
 You used not to think so." 
 
 " Hang it all, there you go again ! You used not 
 this, and you used not that ! Do you suppose the 
 world, and everything on it, is going to hang station 
 ary ? I used not to be tied to a woman s apron 
 string, and I don t propose to be now." 
 
 Oh, favorite expression of a tyrannical man ! 
 How many times a loving wife s heart has been wrung 
 by it. 
 
 Myron rose from the table, clapped his hat upon 
 his head, and strode into the street without a back- 
 
ward glance or a word of farewell. It was not much 
 past five when he returned, and he was sober. 
 
 But he was off again in an hour, despite his wife s 
 persuasions, and she saw no more of him until nearly 
 midnight, when he was not so sober, 
 
 It was extremely hot weather, one scorching, 
 cloudless day followed another, with the mercury over 
 100 deg. in the shade, and Retta, never very strong, 
 was much reduced by the excessive heat, combined 
 with her ever-present anxiety. Day by day, she grew 
 whiter and thinner, until even Myron observed her 
 wan appearance, and betrayed some feeling in regard 
 to it. 
 
 " You ought to have a change, Retta," he declar 
 ed. " This infernally hot weather is too much for 
 you, it is rather rough on me sometimes, and you 
 ought to go into the mountains. There are parties 
 going every little while, and you d better join one of 
 them." 
 
 The doctor said so, too, and added that she must 
 go somewhere, or she would be down entirely. His 
 positive tones admitted of no increduality, and Retta, 
 who shrank from the thought of an illness in that in 
 auspicious climate, and felt that, for Myron s sake, 
 she must keep up, at last consented to take a trip to 
 the Chiricahuas. She would have gone readily and 
 with pleasure if Myron could have accompanied her ; 
 
_I 7 6- 
 
 but she felt very uneasy about leaving him perfectly 
 free to follow the bent of his inclinations, and was 
 sorely afraid that he would take advantage of her ab 
 sence in a way that would be detrimental to him. 
 
 " Promise me that you will be good," she entreat 
 ed, as she took leave of him. Do not forget that 
 you are a gentleman, and that your business prospects 
 and our future happiness depend upon your conduct. 
 Oh, be good and true, darling." 
 
 Her voice broke into a sob, as she clung to him. 
 
 " Nonsense ! " and he kissed her lightly. " What 
 a pucker about nothing ! One would think I was in 
 danger of an arrant disgrace, and that you were about 
 to take your departure for Borrioboola Gha, or some 
 other place at the antipodes, instead of for a canon in 
 the Chiricahuas, but sixty miles away. Don t fret 
 about me, Retta, but devote yourself to getting well, 
 among the trees and flowers and singing birds. There 
 comes the carriage. I shall expect to see you as 
 dusky as a senorita in a month from now. Enjoy 
 yourself all you can. Good-by." 
 
 He parted from her more like his old self than 
 usual, but Retta s heart was heavy as she rode away 
 in the bright sunlight. 
 
 Myron went back to the store rejoicing that he 
 was free from surveillance for a whole month. He 
 didn t intend to do anything very much out of the 
 
177 
 
 way, but Retta was too straight-faced. If she had her 
 way she wouldn t allow a man any liberties at all. 
 Things were different in mining-camps from what 
 they were in puritanical New England. A man could 
 enjoy a game of faro without anything being thought 
 of it, and it would be quite out of the ordinary course 
 to refuse a glass of liquor. So Myron Richardson 
 followed the advice he had given his wife, and "enjoyed 
 himself. " If he lost heavily at his favorite game, there 
 was no one to reproach him, and if he sometimes took 
 " a glass too much," there were no sorrowful eyes to 
 see it. Some few friends, who were proof against the 
 temptations of border life, remarked that it was a pity 
 that such a fine man as Myron Richardson should be 
 going down hill, and it was hard lines for that lady 
 like little wife of his. But Myron felt no twinges of 
 conscience. He grew better satisfied with himself all 
 the time. And now it was about time for his wife to 
 return. In fact, she was liable to arrive in the camp 
 any day. He had no means of hearing directly from 
 her, but he knew that the party whom she had accom 
 panied proposed to return about this time. 
 
 One quiet Sunday morning, come to think of 
 it, it was not so very quiet, either, for Sunday is not 
 observed as punctiliously in mining camps^as it is in 
 the East, and the stamp mills were pounding away 
 as usual on the daily supply of ore, but one peace- 
 
-I 7 8- 
 
 fill Sunday morning, the residents of Bonanza were 
 suddenly thrown into a state of the wildest com 
 motion. Rumors of an Apache outbreak at the San- 
 Carlos reservation had been afloat for a day or two, 
 but had not been generally credited, similar sensa 
 tional reports having proved utterly without founda 
 tion several times heretofore. But when two excited, 
 roughly-dressed men galloped into town, on horses 
 that were literally covered with foam, and spread the 
 tidings that a party of four woodchoppers in the 
 Dragon Mountains had been found murdered by a 
 band of fleeing Indians, en route to Sonoro, who had 
 stolen large numbers of horses, mules and cattle, and 
 had marked their trail from the reservation with the 
 blood of at least forty white men, women and chil 
 dren at various points, the outbreak was recognized 
 as a terrible fact. The bearers of the dread intelli 
 gence had feared for their lives in crossing the mesa 
 between the Dragons and Bonanza, but had luckily 
 caught only a distant view of the motley band of 
 savages. The Indians were apparently making for 
 the lower end of the Chiricahuas, and woe betide any 
 white people who might be crossing the Sulphur- 
 Spring Valley, between that range and the Dragons, 
 unconscious of the proximity of the red foe. 
 
 At once the town was aroused. The whistles of 
 the steam hoisting works sounded a shrill alarm, fast 
 
- 179- 
 
 and furious, which thronged the streets with excited, 
 curious people. Stern-faced men hastily saddled their 
 horses, buckled on their cartridge belts and a brace 
 of revolvers, and, taking their rifles before them, 
 galloped up and down the streets, recruiting a force 
 to go in pursuit of the renegades, and to notify the 
 surrounding settlers of their danger. No doubt 
 the soldiers were not very far distant, but 
 perhaps a volunteer company from Bonanza 
 could cut off the retreat of the Indians into Mexican 
 territory. The bodies of their victims must be brought 
 into town also, and decently buried All was bustle 
 and prompt action. Within an hour after the news 
 was received, fifty mounted men rode out in the direc 
 tion indicated as taken by the savages, and twenty 
 more took a circuit among the ranches, and other 
 exposed places, to warn the people of the danger of 
 their situation. 
 
 Myron Richardson s first thought was of Retta. 
 She was liable to be on the road from the Chiricahuas, 
 and directly in the path of the hostiles. Good God ! 
 she might be killed, or worse yet, be taken into a ter 
 rible captivity ! And he could do nothing to avert 
 the danger. Even now, the horrible deed might be 
 committed ! How was he to endure such suspense ? 
 Why had he allowed her to go into such a lonely 
 country without him ? A country, too, supporting in 
 
- i8o- 
 
 its midst that constant menace of an Apache reserva 
 tion. Now that Retta s life was in jeopardy, it seemed 
 very precious to the husband who had manifested so 
 much indifference for months past. He was almost 
 unmanned at the thought that she might be snatched 
 from him, in this cruelest of ways. Something very 
 like a prayer rose from his heart to heaven, as he 
 wandered aimlessly through the streets, now more 
 than usually lively, heeding no familiar faces, intent 
 only on the all-absorbing question that none could 
 answer was Retta safe ? He had not long to wait 
 for news of her. 
 
 Ere the sun had commenced its downward jour 
 ney toward the west, another flying horseman reached 
 the camp, and the tidings he brought were of a nature 
 to fill strong men s eyes with tears, and their hearts 
 with horror unutterable. 
 
 Some men had arrived at Jones ranch just before 
 his departure, so the messenger said, who reported 
 that a train of freight wagons had been " taken in " 
 by the Indians, in the Sulphur-Spring Valley, the 
 drivers (Mexicans) killed, and the mules stolen. A 
 party of Bonanza people, who had been camping in 
 the Chiricahaus and were on their way home, had also 
 been attacked. Not one had escaped. All lay cold 
 in death, brutally hacked and mutilated by the blood 
 thirsty Apaches. The description of the bodies found 
 
tallied exactly with that of the Wbitcomb party, of 
 which Mrs. Richardson was a member. 
 
 This fresh and trebly sickening horror spread 
 like wildfire through the streets, and was not long 
 in reaching Myron Richardson. Although he 
 had thought of nothing else since he had heard 
 that the Apaches were in the vicinity, he was 
 completely staggered by the awful confirmation of 
 his fears. A great wave of misery rolled over 
 him with the knowledge, for there could be little 
 doubt of it, that poor Retta lay lifeless and disfigured, 
 exposed to the burning rays of the sun, in Sulphur- 
 Spring Valley. Mechanically, with set lips and star 
 ing eyes, he sought his home, oblivious of the excla 
 mations of pity from his acquaintances that followed 
 the sight of his agonized countenance. He entered 
 the humble home which Retta had made so attractive, 
 turned the key in the door, and threw himself down 
 by the table, dropping his head upon his arms, to 
 think it out. Retta was no more ! never again would 
 he behold the sweet face that had smiled for him since 
 that blessed day six years ago when his eyes had first 
 rested upon it. Never again would he hear her gen 
 tle voice assuring him of her tender love, or O 
 wretched thought ! entreating him to give up his 
 unsteady habits, and be to her the loving, considerate 
 husband of yore. And now a great storm of remorse- 
 
182 
 
 ful anguish shook Myron s frame from head to foot. 
 Was it not hard enough to lose his precious wife, in 
 this diabolical manner, without suffering the woe of 
 unavailing regret for the past, brought about entirely 
 by his own selfishness and disregard of principles ? 
 
 The unhappy man groaned in agony of spirit, and 
 lay motionless, fighting with his grief, while the day 
 wore on, and night drew near. All the torturing 
 thoughts that filled his brain, only he and his Maker 
 knew. 
 
 We can imagine them to some extent, but only 
 those who have passed through such an ordeal can 
 fully realize the pain of a conscience-stricken 
 mourner. 
 
 Hours had passed when Myron started up from 
 his chair, invincible determination written upon 
 every lineament, and, raising his hand on high, he 
 exclaimed, 
 
 " I will throw off the shackles. As God hears 
 me, I will be a different man. I cannot bring my 
 darling back, I cannot live my life over and fulfill 
 the vows I made her at the alter, O God would that 
 I could, but I can do what she would wish me to 
 do if she could speak to me. I will never touch 
 liquor or dice again, no, never, never, never!" 
 
 Myron trembled with agitation, cold beads of 
 perspiration stood upon his brow, and tears filled his 
 
-i8 3 - 
 
 eyes, as he continued, " I see it all now, my dam 
 nable conduct. With the dearest, truest wife in the 
 world, I have been blind to her happiness and my 
 own interests. I have caused her untold suffering, 
 I know it, and God is just in taking away from 
 me a blessing that I did not appreciate. Oh, idiot 
 that I have been !" 
 
 Pacing nervously to and fro, Myron thought of 
 the lonely, loveless life before him. He was firm in 
 his resolve to break loose from all degrading associa 
 tions, but it occurred to him that, if he registered 
 his solemn vow on paper, it would be an ever-present 
 reminder of the pledge. 
 
 " I will put it down in black and white," he said, 
 " and it shall never leave my body." 
 
 So he drew out a little drawer in the table, where 
 in his wife had kept her writing materials, and rum 
 maged among its contents for a suitable paper. The 
 sight of letters inscribed with her dear name, and a 
 glimpse now and then of her familiar handwriting, 
 almost overpowered him. He caught sight of the 
 wished-for paper, and drew it out from beneath a pile 
 of envelopes. Another sheet came with it, a jagged, 
 torn leaf, apparently from an account book or diary, 
 and it was covered with Retta s dainty chirographyi 
 Instinctively he began to read. Soon he flushed and 
 choked, and, when he had finished, the leaf fell from 
 
- 184 - 
 
 his nerveless hand, his head dropped, and he groaned. 
 " Oh, wretched man that I am ! May God forgive me 
 for my cruelty to that sainted woman." 
 
 This is what he read : 
 
 " I must tell my grief to some one or something. 
 This continual repression is killing me. So let me 
 pour my trouble out on the bosom of my diary, since 
 I can confide it to no buman breast. How can Hook 
 calmly on and see my darling husband going to ruin ? 
 How can I bear his indifference, his hard words, his 
 utter disregard of my counsel ? O Myron, Myron, if 
 you but knew that a wife s affection is beyond all price! 
 If you but realized your precarious condition, and the 
 duty you owe to yourself, to me, and to your God ! 
 Night and day I pray for thee, and night and day my 
 heart aches, oh, so bitterly. I am alone, alone in this 
 desolate country, for the staff on which I leaned has 
 failed me. My father in heaven, help me to endure." 
 
 It was like a message from the dead to Myron, 
 and it filled his heart with anguish. The room grew 
 dusk, but he did not move. A man could not live in 
 such misery, he dully thought. 
 
 He did not hear some one try the door, which 
 was still locked, nor did he notice the light steps that 
 passed around the side of the house to the kitchen en 
 trance. 
 
 "Myron," a soft voice spoke, " Myron, are you 
 here?" 
 
 The man started as if struck by an electric shock, 
 
-i8 5 - 
 
 and looked up. Standing just within the room, and 
 bending forward to peer into the gathering darkness, 
 was a figure strangely like Retta s. Was she come 
 back to reproach him for his cruelty ? 
 
 " Surely that is you over there in the chair," the 
 voice continued, and the figure came nearer, " but it 
 is so dark that I can t half see." 
 
 Those matter- of fact tones, that tangible shape 
 they could not belong to a denizen of the spirit world. 
 Could it be Retta herself? Retta, alive and un 
 harmed? Just as Myron asked himself this question, 
 while he still stared vacantly at the advancing figure, 
 a hand was laid upon his shoulder a warm, flesh and 
 blood hand and Myron, filled with a sudden estatic 
 happiness, caught his wife to his breast, as she ex 
 claimed : 
 
 " You dear boy ! Why don t you speak to me?" 
 
 For a few moments he could not command 
 his voice. He could only hold Retta in a close em 
 brace, and shower kisses upon her brow and cheek 
 and lips, while his frame shook with emotion. 
 
 And she, touched and surprised by his unwonted 
 demonstrativeness, freely returned his endearments. 
 
 " Then you were not killed by the Indians? " at 
 last he ejaculated. 
 
 " Killed by the Indians? No, indeed. Did you 
 think so ? Oh, my dear boy ! " 
 
i86 
 
 " Was not the Whitcomb party attacked? " 
 
 " Mercy, I hope not ; but I don t know, for I did 
 not come with them." 
 
 " Not come with them ? " and Myron gazed in as 
 tonishment. 
 
 " No. I was intending to, up to the first minute, 
 but we met your friend, George Norcross, and his 
 wife and sister, who had been out to Tres Alamos, 
 and affected a change. You see he was obliged to go 
 to the Turquoise district, on business, on the way 
 back to Bonanza, andyou know I have often ex 
 pressed a wish to see that camp, so, as his wife had 
 been there several times, and was a great crony of 
 Mrs. Whitcomb s, she said she had much rather take 
 my place with them, and I got into the buggy with 
 him and Louise." 
 
 "And didn t you see any Indians ?" 
 
 " Not one, and we didn t know there was an out 
 break until we got to Turquoise. A messenger had 
 just informed the miners of it. We thought we had 
 better get back to Bonanza as quickly as we could, 
 and we kept our eyes open on the way, I can tell you. 
 But, as you see, we arrived here in safety. George 
 drove right to the house and set me down." 
 
 She evidently had heard nothing of the massacre, 
 so Myron broke the intelligence to her, adding that 
 
i8 7 - 
 
 it was just possible it might be some other party, but 
 not probable. 
 
 Nor was it. The next day the mutilated bodies 
 of the Whitcombs and their friends were brought 
 into Bonanza, and the hearts of the populace were 
 filled with commiseration and indignation at the sad 
 spectacle, the devilish work of the craftiest and 
 cruelist of savages How long, was the appeal 
 of every heart, how long must we endure 
 this murderous race in our midst? How long 
 will they be gathered together, in the heart of 
 our territory, clothed and nurtured, provided with 
 arms and ammunition, and let loose upon the unsus 
 pecting people, only to be taken back and forgiven, 
 until the bloody tragedy is enacted over again ? 
 
 The casual change described by Retta saved her 
 life, and made Captain Norcross an unhappy widower. 
 Retta had the supreme pleasure of seeing her husband 
 boldly write down his unalterable determination to 
 abstain henceforth from intoxicating drinks and the 
 gaming table. Myron never forgot that terrible day 
 when he awoke to the consciousness of his peril, the 
 day when he believed that all that really made life 
 worth living had been taken from him. It was not 
 an easy task that he had set himself. But thoughts of 
 the dear ones at home, and of the gift of God that 
 was coming to him, kept him steadfast. 
 
- i88 - 
 
 When their little son was born, Retta felt no 
 shame for its father, and its innocent young life 
 proved an effectual safeguard to the man who found 
 sobriety more pleasurable, and dissipation more repul 
 sive, as time passed on. 
 
 The lenegades were not captured, either by the 
 soldiers or the volunteers. They made good their 
 escape across the border, where they ensconced them 
 selves in strongholds among the mountains., indulg 
 ing occasionally in the diversion of a raid upon the 
 scattered settlers of Sonora. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 7 May 5 3 60 
 
 LD 21-100m-7, 52(A2528sl6)476 
 
YB 7424 
 
 M10543? 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY