The next mornin’ while Miss Meechim and Dorothy wuz to the lawyers, tendin’ to that bizness of hern and gittin’ ready for their long tower, Robert Strong took me through one of them palaces. It stood only a little distance from the city and wuz occupied by one old gentleman, the rest of the family havin’ died off and married, leavin’ him alone in his glory. Well said, for glory surrounded the hull spot. There wuz three hundred acres, all gardens and lawns and a drivin’ park and a park full of magestick old live oaks, and acres and acres of the most beautiful flowers and all the choicest fruit you could think of. The great stately mansion was a sight to go through––halls, libraries, gilded saloons, picture galleries, reception halls lined with mirrors, billiard rooms, bowling alleys, whatever that may be, dining rooms, with mirrors extending from the floor to the lofty ceilin’s. I wondered if the lonely old occupant ever see reflected in them tall mirrors the faces of them who had gone from him as he sot there at that table, like some Solomon on his throne. But all he had to do wuz to press his old foot on a electric bell under the table, and forty servants would enter. But I’dno as he’d want ’em all––I shouldn’t––it would take away my appetite, I believe. Twenty carriages of all kinds and thirty blooded horses wuz in his stables, them stables bein’ enough sight nicer than any dwellin’ house in Jonesville. But what did that feeble old man want of twenty carriages? To save his life he couldn’t be in more than one At my strong request we made a tower one day to see Stanford University, that immense schoolhouse that is doin’ so much good in the world; why, good land! it is larger than you have any idee on; why, take all the schoolhouses in Jonesville and Loontown and Zoar and put ’em all together, and then add to them all the meetin’ houses in all them places and then it wouldn’t be half nor a quarter so big as this noble schoolhouse. And the grounds about it are beautiful, beautiful! We wuz shown through the buildin’, seein’ all the helps to learning of all kinds and the best there is in the world. And how proud I felt to think what one of my own sect had done in that great werk. How the cross of agony laid on her shoulders had turned to light that will help guide over life’s tempestenus ten millions yet onborn. And I sez: “How happy young Leeland must be to know his death has done such grand work, and to see it go on.” “Why,” sez Meechim, “how could he see it? He’s dead.” Sez I: “Don’t you spoze the Lord would let him see what a great light his death has lit up in the werld. In my opinion he wuz right there to-day lookin’ at it.” “That is impossible,” sez she. “If he wuz there we should have seen him.” Sez I: “You don’t see the x-rays that are all about you this very minute; but they are there. You can’t see the great force Marconi uses to talk with, but it walks the earth, goes right through mountains, which you and I can’t do, Miss Meechim. It is stronger than the solid earth or rock. That shows the power of the invisible, that what we call the real is the transitory and weak, the invisible is the lasting and eternal. What we have seen to-day is sorrow chrystalized into grand shapes. A noble young heart’s ideal and asperations wrought out by loveng memory in brick and Miss Meechim’s nose turned up and she sniffed some. She wuz a foreigner, how could she know what I said? But Dorothy and Robert seemed to understand my language, though they couldn’t speak it yet. And good land! I hain’t learnt its A B C’s yet, and don’t spoze I shall till I git promoted to a higher school. Well, it wuz on a lovely afternoon that we all went out to the City of Justice, and there I see agin what great wealth might do in lightening the burdens of a sad world. Robert Strong might have spent his money jest as that old man did whose place I have described, and live in still better style, for Robert Strong wuz worth millions. But he felt different; he felt as if he wanted his capital to lighten the burden on the aching back of bowed down and tired out Labor, and let it stand up freer and straighter for a spell. He felt that he could enjoy his wealth more if it wuz shared accordin’ to the Bible, that sez if you have two coats give to him that hasn’t any, and from the needy turn not thou away. That big building, or ruther that cluster and village of buildings, didn’t need any steeples to tell its mission to the world. Lots of our biggest meetin’ houses need ’em bad to tell folks what they stand for. If it wuzn’t for them steeples poor folks who wander into ’em out of their stifling alleys and dark courts wouldn’t mistrust what they wuz for. They would see the elegantly dressed throng enter and pass over carpeted aisles into their luxuriously cushioned pews, and kneel down on soft hassocks and pray: “Thy kingdom come,” and “Give us this day our daily bread,” and “give us what we give others.” These poor folks can’t go nigh ’em, for the usher won’t let ’em, but they meet ’em through the week, or hear of ’em, and know that they do all in their power to keep his kingdom of Love and Justice away from the world. They herd in their dark, filthy, death-cursed But this city of Robert Strong’s didn’t need steeples, as I say. It wuz Christianity built in bricks and mortar, practical religion lived right before ’em from day to day, comfortable houses for workmen, which they could hope to earn and call their own. Pleasant homes where happy love could dwell in content, because no danger stood round, hid in saloons to ruin husband, son and father; comfortable houses where health and happiness could dwell. Good wages, stiddy work, and a share in all the profits made there; good hard work whilst they did work, ensurin’ success and prosperity; but short hours, ensurin’ sunthin’ beyond wages. A big house, called a Pleasure House, stood in the centre of the broad, handsome streets, a sort of a centrepiece from which streams of happiness and health flowed through the hull city, some as them little rills of pure snow water flowed through the streets of Salt Lake and Denver. Where all sorts of innocent recreation could be found to suit all minds and ages. A big library full of books. A museum full of the riches of science and art. A big music hall where lovers He laughed his boyish laugh, but I see the deep meanin’ in his clear, gray eyes and knew what he felt, though his words wuz light. “Oh no,” sez he, “we read that those gates are pearl; these are just common wood, turned out by my workmen.” Sez I, “The pearl of love and good will to man, the precious stun of practical religion and justice shines on these gates and every buildin’ here, and I bless the Lord that I have ever lived to see what I have to-day.” And I took out my snowy linen handkerchief and shed some tears on it, I was so affected. Robert Strong wuz touched to his heart, I see he wuz, but kep’ up, his nater bein’ such. Miss Meechim and Dorothy wuz walkin’ a little ahead, Tommy between ’em. And anon we come to the house Robert lived in; not a bit better than the others on that street, but a nice comfortable structure of gray stun and brick, good enough for anybody, with wide sunshiny windows, fresh air, sunshine, plenty of books, Here his motherly-looking housekeeper spread a nice lunch for us. His overseer dined with us, a good-looking chap, devoted to Robert Strong, as I could see, and ready to carry out his idees to the full. Miss Meechim couldn’t find anything, it seemed to me, to pick flaws in, but she did say to me out to one side, “Just think how Robert lives in a house no better than his workmen, and he might live in a palace.” Sez I, warmly, “Robert Strong’s body may stay in this comfortable brick house, good enough for anybody, but the real Robert Strong dwells in a royal palace, his soul inhabits the temple of the Lord, paved with the gold and pearl of justice and love, and its ruff reaches clear up into heaven from where he gits the air his soul breathes in.” “Do you think so? I never thought of it in that light; I have thought his ideas was erroneous and so my clergyman thinks. Rev. Dr. Weakdew said to me there were a great many texts that he had preached from all his life, that if these ideas of Robert’s was carried out universally, would be destroyed and rendered meaningless. Texts it had always been such a comfort to him to preach from, he said, admonishing the poor of their duty to the rich, and comforting the poor and hungry and naked with assurances that though hungry here they may partake of the bread of life above, if they are humble and patient and endure to the end, and though shivering and naked here, they may be clothed in garments of light above.” And I sez, “Bein’ that we are all in this world at present, I believe the Lord would ruther we should cover the naked limbs and feed the starvin’ bodies here, and now, and leave the futur to Him.” But Miss Meechim shook her head sadly. “It sounds well,” sez she, “but there is something wrong in any belief that overthrows Scripture and makes the poor wealthy.” “Well,” sez I, “if it wuz our naked backs that the snow fell on, and the hail pelted, and our stomachs that wuz achin’ and faint for food, we should sing a different tune.” “I trust that I should sing a Gospel tune in any event,” sez she. “Well,” sez I, “we needn’t quarrel about that, for we couldn’t feel much like singin’ in them cases. But if we did sing I think a good hymn would be: Blest be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love. “And if the rich and poor, Capital and Labor would all jine in and sing this from the heart the very winders of heaven would open to hear the entrancin’ strains,” sez I. But I don’t spoze I changed her mind any. Dorothy bein’ naterally so smart, wuz impressed by all we had seen, I could see she wuz, and when he wuzn’t lookin’ at her I could see her eyes rest on Robert Strong’s face with a new expression of interest and approval. But she wuz full of light, happiness and joy––as she ort to be in her bright youth––and she and Robert and Miss Meechim spoke of the trip ahead on us with happy anticipations. But I––oh, that deep, holler room in my heart into which no stranger looked; that room hung with dark, sombry black; remembrances of him the great ocean wuz a-goin’ to sever me from––he on land and I on sea––ten thousand miles of land and water goin’ to separate us; how could I bear it, how wuz I goin’ to stand it? I kep’ up, made remarks and answered ’em mekanically, but oh, the feelin’s I felt on the inside. How little can we tell in happy lookin’ crowds how many of the gay throng hear the rattle of their own private skeletons above the gayest music! Well, we got home to the Palace hotel in good season, I a-talkin’ calmly and cheerfully, but sayin’ in the inside, “’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, be it I went up to my room and after gettin’ Tommy to bed, who wuz cross and sleepy, I finished the letter to my help, for we wuz goin’ to start in the mornin’. “Oh, Philury!” the letter run, “my feelin’s, you cannot parse ’em, even if you wuz better grounded in grammar than I think you be. Not one word from my beloved pardner do I hear––is Josiah dead?” sez I. “But if he is don’t tell me; I could not survive, and Tommy has got to be went with. But oh! if sickness and grief for me has bowed that head, bald, but most precious to me, deal with him as you would deal with a angel unawares. Bile his porridge, don’t slight it or let it be lumpy, don’t give him dish-watery tea, brile his toast and make his beef tea as you would read chapters of scripter––carefully and not with eye service. Hang my picter on the wall at the foot of the bed, and if it affects him too much, hang my old green braize veil over it, you’ll find it in the hall cupboard.” But why should I sadden and depress the hearts of a good natered public? I writ seven sheets of foolscap, and added to what I had already writ, it made it too big to send by mail, so I put it in a collar box and sent it by express, charges paid, for I knew the dear man it wuz addressed to, if he wuz still able to sense anything, would like it better that way. And then my letter sent off I begun to pack my hair trunk anew. Well, the day dawned gloriously. I spoze I must have slep’ some, for when I opened my eyes I felt refreshed. Tommy wuz awake in his little bed and “wonnerin’” at sunthin’ I spoze, for he always wuz, and breakfast wuz partook of by the hull party, for Robert Strong had come with a big carriage to take us to the ship and took breakfast with us, and soon, too soon for me, we stood on the wharf, surrounded by a tumultous crowd, goin’ every which way; As I stood holdin’ Tommy by the hand and keepin’ eagle watch over that trunk, how much did that big ship look like a big monster that wuz agoin’ to tear my heart all to pieces, tearin’ my body from the ground that kep’ my pardner on its bosom. Tears that I could not restrain dribbled down my Roman nose and onto my gray alpacky waist; Dorothy see ’em and slipped her kind little hand into mine and soothed my agony by gently whisperin’: “Maybe you’ll get a letter from him on the ship, Aunt Samantha.” Well, the last minute come, the hair trunk had been tore from my side, and I, too, had to leave terry firmy, whisperin’ to myself words that I’d hearn, slightly changed: “Farewell, my Josiah! and if forever, still forever fare thee well.” My tears blinded me so I could only jest see Tommy, who I still held hold of. I reached the upper deck with falterin’ steps. But lo, as I stood there wipin’ my weepin’ eyes, as the him sez, I hearn sunthin’ that rung sweetly and clearly on my ears over all the conflicting sounds and confusion, and that brung me with wildly beatin’ heart to the side of the ship. “Samantha! stop the ship! wait for me! I am comin’!” Could it be? Yes it wuz my own beloved pardner, madly racin’ down the wharf, swingin’ his familiar old carpet satchel in his hand, also huggin’ in his arms a big bundle done up in newspaper, which busted as he reached the water’s edge, dribblin’ out neckties, bandanna handkerchiefs, suspenders, cookies, and the dressin’ gown with tossels. He scrambled after ’em as well as he could in his fearful hurry, and his arms bein’ full, he threw the dressin’ gown round his shoulders and madly raced over the gang plank, still emitting that agonizing cry: “Samantha, wait for me! stop the ship!” which he kep’ up after I had advanced onward and he held both my hands in hisen. Oh, the bliss of that moment! No angel hand, no reporter even for the New York papers could exaggerate the blessedness of that time, much as they knew about exaggeration. Tears of pure joy ran down both our faces, and all the sorrows of the past seperation seemed to dissolve in a golden mist that settled down on everything round us and before us. The land looked good, the water looked good, the sky showered down joy as well as sunshine; we wuz together once more. We had no need of speech to voice our joy; but anon Josiah did say in tremblin’ axents as he pressed both my hands warmly in hisen: “Samantha, I’ve come!” And I, too, sez in a voice tremblin’ with emotion: “Dear Josiah, I see you have.” And then I sez tenderly as I helped him off with the dressin’ gown: “I thought you said you couldn’t leave the farm, Josiah.” “Well, I wuz leavin’ it; I wuz dyin’; I thought I might as well leave it one way as t’other. I couldn’t live without you, and finally I ketched up what clothes I could in my hurry and sot out, thinkin’ mebby I could ketch you in Chicago. You see I have got my dressin’ gown and plenty of neckties.” “Well,” sez I in my boundless joy and content, “there are things more necessary on a long sea voyage than neckties, but I’ve got some socks most knit, and I can buy some underclothes, and we will git along first rate.” “Yes, Arvilly said so.” Sez he, “Arvilly told me you’d manage.” “Arvilly?” sez I, in surprised axents. “Yes, Arvilly concluded to come too. She said that if you hadn’t started so quick she should have come with you. But when she found out I was comin’ she jest set right off I advanced towards her and sez: “Arvilly Lanfear! or she that wuz, is it you?” “Yes, I’ve come, and if ever a human creeter come through sufferin’ I have. Why, I’ve been agent for ‘The Wild Deeds of Men’ for years and years, but I never knew anything about ’em till I come on this tower. I thought that I should never git that man here alive. He has wep’ and wailed the hull durin’ time for fear we shouldn’t ketch you.” “Oh, no, Arvilly!” sez the joyous-lookin’ Josiah. “I can prove it!” sez she, catchin’ out his red and yeller bandanna handkerchief from his hat, where he always carries it: “Look at that, wet as sop!” sez she, as she held it up. It wuz proof, Josiah said no more. “I knew we should ketch you, for I knew you would stop on the way. I thought I would meet you at the deepo to surprise you. But I had to bank my house; I wuzn’t goin’ to leave it to no underlin’ and have my stuff freeze. But when I hern that Josiah wuz comin’ I jest dropped my spade––I had jest got done––ketched up my book and threw my things into my grip, my trunk wuz all packed, and here I am, safe and sound, though the cars broke down once and we wuz belated. We have just traipsed along a day or two behind you all the way from Chicago, I not knowin’ whether I could keep him alive or not.” Sez I fondly, “What devoted love!” “What a natural fool!” sez Arvilly. “Did it make it any better for him to cry and take on? That day we broke down and had to stop at a tarven I wuz jest mad enough, and writ myself another chapter on ‘The Wild Deeds of Men,’ and am in hopes that the publisher will print it. It will help the book enormously I know. How you’ve stood it with that man all these years, I don’t see; rampin’ round, tearin’ and groanin’ and actin’. He didn’t act no more like a perfessor than––than Captain Kidd would if he had been travelin’ with a neighborin’ female, pursuin’ his wife, and that female doin’ the best she could for him. I kep’ tellin’ him that he would overtake you, but I might as well have talked to the wind––a equinoctial gale,” sez she. Josiah wuz so happy her words slipped offen him without his sensin’ ’em and I wuz too happy to dispute or lay anything up, when she went on and sez: “I spoze that folks thought from our jawin’ so much that we wuz man and wife; and he a yellin’ out acrost the sleeper and kinder cryin’, and I a hollerin’ back to him to ’shet up and go to sleep!’ It is the last time I will ever try to carry a man to his wife; but I spozed when I started with him, he bein’ a perfessor, he would act different!” “Well,” sez I, in a kind of a soothin’ tone, “I’m real glad you’ve come, Arvilly; it will make the ship seem more like Jonesville, and I know what you have went through.” “Well,” sez she, “no other livin’ woman duz unless it is you.” She kep’ on thinkin’ of Josiah, but I waved off that idee; I meant her tribulations in the army. And I sez, “You may as well spend your money travelin’ as in any other way.” “Yes, I love to travel when I can travel with human creeters, and I might as well spend my money for myself as to leave it for my cousins to fight over, and I can pay my way mostly sellin’ my book; and I’ve left my stuff so it won’t spile.” “Where is Waitstill Webb?” sez I. “Oh, Waitstill has gone back to be a nurse––she’s gone to the Philippines.” Sez I gladly, “Then we shall see her, Arvilly.” “Yes,” sez she, “and that wuz one reason that I wanted to go, though she’s acted like a fool, startin’ off agin to help the govermunt. I’ve done my last work for it, and I told her so; I sez, if see the govermunt sinkin’ in a mud hole I wouldn’t lift a finger to help it out. I always wanted to see China and Japan, but never spozed I should.” “It is a strange Providence, indeed, Arvilly, that has started us both from Jonesville to China. But,” sez I, “let me make you acquainted with the rest of our party,” and I introduced ’em. Josiah wuz embracin’ Tommy and bein’ embraced, and he had seen ’em all but Robert Strong. |