My old woman, by thunder!
They say that Mrs. Brown burst into tears and reproaches of her husband. I saw her in 1857 at Marysville, and disbelieve the story. And the Wingdam Chronicle of the next week, under the head of Touching Reunion, said: One of those beautiful and touching incidents, peculiar to California life, occurred last week in our city. The wife of one of Wingdams eminent pioneers, tired of the effete civilization of the East and its inhospitable climate, resolved to join her noble husband upon these golden shores. Without informing him of her intention, she undertook the long journey, and arrived last week. The joy of the husband may be easier imagined than described. The meeting is said to have been indescribably affecting. We trust her example may be followed.
Whether owing to Mrs. Browns influence, or to some more successful speculations, Mr. Browns financial fortune from that day steadily improved. He bought out his partners in the Nip and Tuck lead, with money which was said to have been won at poker a week or two after his wifes arrival, but which rumor, adopting Mrs. Browns theory that Brown had forsworn the gaming-table, declared to have been furnished by Mr. Jack Hamlin. He built and furnished the Wingdam House, which pretty Mrs. Browns great popularity kept overflowing with guests. He was elected to the Assembly, and gave largess to churches. A street in Wingdam was named in his honor.
Yet it was noted that in proportion as he waxed wealthy and fortunate, he grew pale, thin, and anxious. As his wifes popularity increased, he became fretful and impatient. The most uxorious of husbands, he was absurdly jealous. If he did not interfere with his wifes social liberty, it was because it was maliciously whispered that his first and only attempt was met by an outburst from Mrs. Brown that terrified him into silence. Much of this kind of gossip came from those of her own sex whom she had supplanted in the chivalrous attentions of Wingdam, which, like most popular chivalry, was devoted to an admiration of power, whether of masculine force or feminine beauty. It should be remembered, too, in her extenuation, that, since her arrival, she had been the unconscious priestess of a mythological worship, perhaps not more ennobling to her womanhood than that which distinguished an older Greek democracy. I think that Brown was dimly conscious of this. But his only confidant was Jack Hamlin, whose infelix reputation naturally precluded any open intimacy with the family, and whose visits were infrequent.
It was midsummer and a moonlit night, and Mrs. Brown, very rosy, large-eyed, and pretty, sat upon the piazza, enjoying the fresh incense of the mountain breeze, and, it is to be feared, another incense which was not so fresh nor quite as innocent. Beside her sat Colonel Starbottle and Judge Boompointer, and a later addition to her court in the shape of a foreign tourist. She was in good spirits.
What do you see down the road? inquired the gallant Colonel, who had been conscious, for the last few minutes, that Mrs. Browns attention was diverted.
Dust, said Mrs. Brown, with a sigh. Only Sister Annes flock of sheep.
The Colonel, whose literary recollections did not extend farther back than last weeks paper, took a more practical view. It aint sheep, he continued; its a horseman. Judge, aint that Jack Hamlins gray?
But the Judge didnt know; and, as Mrs. Brown suggested the air was growing too cold for further investigations, they retired to the parlor.
Mr. Brown was in the stable, where he generally retired after dinner. Perhaps it was to show his contempt for his wifes companions; perhaps, like other weak natures, he found pleasure in the exercise of absolute power over inferior animals. He had a certain gratification in the training of a chestnut mare, whom he could beat or caress as pleased him, which he couldnt do with Mrs. Brown. It was here that he recognized a certain gray horse which had just come in, and, looking a little farther on, found his rider. Browns greeting was cordial and hearty; Mr. Hamlins somewhat restrained. But, at Browns urgent request, he followed him up the back stairs to a narrow corridor, and thence to a small room looking out upon the stable-yard. It was plainly furnished with a bed, a table, a few chairs, and a rack for guns and whips.
This yers my home, Jack, said Brown with a sigh, as he threw himself upon the bed and motioned his companion to a chair. Her rooms t other end of the hall. Its moren six months since weve lived together, or met, except at meals. Its mighty rough papers on the head of the house, aint it? he said with a forced laugh. But Im glad to see you, Jack, dd glad, and he reached from the bed, and again shook the unresponsive hand of Jack Hamlin.
I brought ye up here, for I didnt want to talk in the stable; though, for the matter of that, its all round town. Dont strike a light. We can talk here in the moonshine. Put up your feet on that winder and sit here beside me. Thars whiskey in that jug.
Mr. Hamlin did not avail himself of the information. Brown of Calaveras turned his face to the wall, and continued,
If I didnt love the woman, Jack, I wouldnt mind. But its loving her, and seeing her day arter day goin on at this rate, and no one to put down the brake; thats what gits me! But Im glad to see ye, Jack, dd glad.
In the darkness he groped about until he had found and wrung his companions hand again. He would have detained it, but Jack slipped it into the buttoned breast of his coat, and asked listlessly, How long has this been going on?
Ever since she came here; ever since the day she walked into the Magnolia. I was a fool then; Jack, Im a fool now; but I didnt know how much I loved her till then. And she hasnt been the same woman since.
But that aint all, Jack; and its what I wanted to see you about, and Im glad youve come. It aint that she doesnt love me any more; it aint that she fools with every chap that comes along; for perhaps I staked her love and lost it, as I did everything else at the Magnolia; and perhaps foolin is nateral to some women, and thar aint no great harm done, cept to the fools. But, Jack, I think,I think she loves somebody else. Dont move, Jack! dont move; if your pistol hurts ye, take it off.
Its been moren six months now that shes seemed unhappy and lonesome, and kinder nervous and scared-like. And sometimes Ive ketched her lookin at me sort of timid and pitying. And she writes to somebody. And for the last week shes been gathering her own things,trinkets, and furbelows, and jewlry,and, Jack, I think shes goin off. I could stand all but that. To have her steal away like a thief! He put his face downward to the pillow, and for a few moments there was no sound but the ticking of a clock on the mantel. Mr. Hamlin lit a cigar, and moved to the open window. The moon no longer shone into the room, and the bed and its occupant were in shadow. What shall I do, Jack? said the voice from the darkness.
The answer came promptly and clearly from the window-side, Spot the man, and kill him on sight.
But, Jack
Hes took the risk!
But will that bring her back?
Jack did not reply, but moved from the window towards the door.
Dont go yet, Jack; light the candle and sit by the table. Its a comfort to see ye, if nothin else.
Jack hesitated and then complied. He drew a pack of cards from his pocket and shuffled them, glancing at the bed. But Browns face was turned to the wall. When Mr. Hamlin had shuffled the cards, he cut them, and dealt one card on the opposite side of the table towards the bed, and another on his side of the table for himself. The first was a deuce; his own card a king. He then shuffled and cut again. This time dummy had a queen and himself a four-spot. Jack brightened up for the third deal. It brought his adversary a deuce and himself a king again. Two out of three, said Jack audibly.
Dont go yet, Jack; light the candle and sit by the table. Its a comfort to see ye, if nothin else.
Jack hesitated and then complied. He drew a pack of cards from his pocket and shuffled them, glancing at the bed. But Browns face was turned to the wall. When Mr. Hamlin had shuffled the cards, he cut them, and dealt one card on the opposite side of the table towards the bed, and another on his side of the table for himself. The first was a deuce; his own card a king. He then shuffled and cut again. This time dummy had a queen and himself a four-spot. Jack brightened up for the third deal. It brought his adversary a deuce and himself a king again. Two out of three, said Jack audibly.
Whats that, Jack? said Brown.
Nothing.
Then Jack tried his hand with dice; but he always threw sixes and his imaginary opponent aces. The force of habit is sometimes confusing.
Meanwhile some magnetic influence in Mr. Hamlins presence, or the anodyne of liquor, or both, brought surcease of sorrow, and Brown slept. Mr. Hamlin moved his chair to the window and looked out on the town of Wingdam, now sleeping peacefully, its harsh outlines softened and subdued, its glaring colors mellowed and sobered in the moonlight that flowed over all. In the hush he could hear the gurgling of water in the ditches and the sighing of the pines beyond the hill. Then he looked up at the firmament, and as he did so a star shot across the twinkling field. Presently another, and then another. The phenomenon suggested to Mr. Hamlin a fresh augury. If in another fifteen minutes another star should fallHe sat there, watch in hand, for twice that time, but the phenomenon was not repeated.
The clock struck two, and Brown still slept. Mr. Hamlin approached the table and took from his pocket a letter, which he read by the flickering candlelight. It contained only a single line, written in pencil, in a womans hand,
Be at the corral with the buggy at three.
The sleeper moved uneasily and then awoke. Are you there, Jack?
Yes.
Dont go yet. I dreamed just now, Jack,dreamed of old times. I thought that Sue and me was being married agin, and that the parson, Jack, waswho do you think?you!
The gambler laughed, and seated himself on the bed, the paper still in his hand.
Its a good sign, aint it? queried Brown.
I reckon! Say, old man, hadnt you better get up?
The old man, thus affectionately appealed to, rose, with the assistance of Hamlins outstretched hand.
Smoke?
Brown mechanically took the proffered cigar.
Light?
Jack had twisted the letter into a spiral, lit it, and held it for his companion. He continued to hold it until it was consumed, and dropped the fragmenta fiery starfrom the open window. He watched it as it fell, and then returned to his friend.
Old man, he said, placing his hands upon Browns shoulders, in ten minutes Ill be on the road, and gone like that spark. We wont see each other agin; but, before I go, take a fools advice: sell out all youve got, take your wife with you, and quit the country. It aint no place for you nor her. Tell her she must go; make her go if she wont. Dont whine because you cant be a saint and she aint an angel. Be a man, and treat her like a woman. Dont be a d-d fool. Good-by.
He tore himself from Browns grasp and leaped down the stairs like a deer. At the stable-door he collared the half-sleeping hostler, and backed him against the wall. Saddle my horse in two minutes, or IllThe ellipsis was frightfully suggestive.
The missis said you was to have the buggy, stammered the man.
Dn the buggy! The horse was saddled as fast as the nervous hands of the astounded hostler could manipulate buckle and strap.
Is anything up, Mr. Hamlin? said the man, who, like all his class, admired the elan of his fiery patron, and was really concerned in his welfare.
Stand aside!
The man fell back. With an oath, a bound, and clatter, Jack was into the road. In another moment, to the mans half-awakened eyes, he was but a moving cloud of dust in the distance, towards which a star just loosed from its brethren was trailing a stream of fire.
But early that morning the dwellers by the Wingdam turnpike, miles aways, heard a voice, pure as a sky-larks, singing afield. They who were asleep turned over on their rude couches to dream of youth, and love, and olden days. Hard-faced men and anxious gold-seekers, already at work, ceased their labors and leaned upon their picks to listen to a romantic vagabond ambling away against the rosy sunrise.
CONDENSED NOVELS
MUCK-A-MUCK
A MODERN INDIAN NOVELAFTER COOPER
CHAPTER I
It was toward the close of a bright October day. The last rays of the setting sun were reflected from one of those sylvan lakes peculiar to the Sierras of California. On the right the curling smoke of an Indian village rose between the columns of the lofty pines, while to the left the log cottage of Judge Tompkins, embowered in buckeyes, completed the enchanting picture.
Although the exterior of the cottage was humble and unpretentious, and in keeping with the wildness of the landscape, its interior gave evidence of the cultivation and refinement of its inmates. An aquarium, containing goldfishes, stood on a marble centre-table at one end of the apartment, while a magnificent grand piano occupied the other. The floor was covered with a yielding tapestry carpet, and the walls were adorned with paintings from the pencils of Van Dyke, Rubens, Tintoretto, Michael Angelo, and the productions of the more modern Turner, Kensett, Church, and Bierstadt. Although Judge Tompkins had chosen the frontiers of civilization as his home, it was impossible for him to entirely forego the habits and tastes of his former life. He was seated in a luxurious armchair, writing at a mahogany escritoire, while his daughter, a lovely young girl of seventeen summers, plied her crotchet-needle on an ottoman beside him. A bright fire of pine logs flickered and flamed on the ample hearth.
Genevra Octavia Tompkins was Judge Tompkinss only child. Her mother had long since died on the Plains. Reared in affluence, no pains had been spared with the daughters education. She was a graduate of one of the principal seminaries, and spoke French with a perfect Benicia accent. Peerlessly beautiful, she was dressed in a white moire antique robe trimmed with tulle. That simple rosebud, with which most heroines exclusively decorate their hair, was all she wore in her raven locks.
The Judge was the first to break the silence.
Genevra, the logs which compose yonder fire seem to have been incautiously chosen. The sibilation produced by the sap, which exudes copiously therefrom, is not conducive to composition.
True, father, but I thought it would be preferable to the constant crepitation which is apt to attend the combustion of more seasoned ligneous fragments.
The Judge looked admiringly at the intellectual features of the graceful girl, and half forgot the slight annoyances of the green wood in the musical accents of his daughter. He was smoothing her hair tenderly, when the shadow of a tall figure, which suddenly darkened the doorway, caused him to look up.
CHAPTER II
It needed but a glance at the new-comer to detect at once the form and features of the haughty aborigine,the untaught and untrammeled son of the forest. Over one shoulder a blanket, negligently but gracefully thrown, disclosed a bare and powerful breast, decorated with a quantity of three-cent postage-stamps which he had despoiled from an Overland Mail stage a few weeks previous. A cast-off beaver of Judge Tompkinss, adorned by a simple feather, covered his erect head, from beneath which his straight locks descended. His right hand hung lightly by his side, while his left was engaged in holding on a pair of pantaloons, which the lawless grace and freedom of his lower limbs evidently could not brook.