“Yes it does matter, Ralph—that is if it turns out to be an arena for pyrotechnics and that horrible Bombs is in it. If he is, it will be an advertisement for the blinding and demoralization of every youth within sight of it. Powder and dynamite will be the fashion and our Fourth of July horror will rage again. O Ralph! Ralph!”
“Here am I, dear! Trust! trust! We will be on the watch-tower. If Mr. Bombs comes we will see what we can do with him. There’s always something to be done if we can only keep a level head. You must not get too much excited over it, dear, you know the reason why. You remember the gardener’s wife, poor soul. Let’s stop and see her on our way down.”
“Yes, Ralph,” replied Ruth eagerly. “Perhaps she will know if Miss Schwarmer is coming up this Fourth. If there is anybody in the world whocan influence that perverse Mr. Bombs rightly I believe it is she.”
Mary Langley, the gardener’s wife, had never recovered from the hurt and fright caused by the explosion of Mr. Bombs’ rocket. Hers was one of those double hurts for whichmateria medicaehas no remedy. She recovered sufficiently to be able to attend to her household duties and to the wants of her two little children. Miss Schwarmer’s well filled purse had helped her thus far; but it could not tide her over the invalid line. Dreams of fiery serpents and the lost baby kept her from refreshing sleep night after night. Her husband ridiculed her in vain for her so-called woman’s weakness. Her hurt was too deep for money or ridicule to mend. She grew thinner and thinner, day after day, and ghostly white until it was rumored about town that she was going into a decline.
The Norwoods were ill prepared, however, for the frail spiritual looking creature who met them at the door.
“Beg pardon,” said Ruth, “perhaps you are not well enough to receive us. I have heard about you and have been wanting to come and see you ever since; but I thought you had so many friends—and better ones—at least those who could do more for you. You are well acquainted with the Schwarmers, of course. Miss Schwarmer is lovely and she spoke to me so kindly about you.”
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Langley, “Miss Adelaide is very, very kind and as good and honest as she can be and she did help me all she could, bless her heart, in deed and word; but she had to go away and it seemed as though nobody else knew just how I felt, and she so young too—the others made fun of me.”
Tears came into the hollow eyes as she stopped speaking.
“Made fun of you?” questioned Ruth, looking at Ralph wonderingly.
“O! the brutes!” he exclaimed, angrily. He could not trust himself to say more. He wanted to ask who the brutes were and why her husband did not resent such cruel insult?
“I suppose Iwasfoolish,” she said apologetically. “Even my husband can’t quite understand why I was so frightened—frightened out of my wits, he says; nor why I can’t get over it. Why I want to go away from this place. He hired to Mr. Schwarmer for three years and he can’t go and it wouldn’t do to quarrel with him. Poor James! He works hard all day and is so tired at night; and night is the time I feel the terror coming on!”
Ruth gave a little sob.
“I can understand you, dear Mrs. Langley. It’s the horrible fireworks and their promoters you are afraid of, and you are afraid they will come again. I used to feel that way until we went to work to getrid of them; but you are helpless here on the Schwarmer grounds. Then there’s the new building. Have you any idea what use that will be put to?”
“My husband talks of beautiful horses and races and fairs and things of that kind, but I have my fears. I know they won’t let Fourth of July pass without doing something dreadful; but I shan’t be here then.”
Ruth knew that she meant that she expected to die before that time, but she would not take it so.
“Indeed you must not stay here. You must come over and stay with us. We are not going to have any of those horrible things. You must come, you and the children, too; if you do not come of your own accord, we will come and take you away,” laughed Ruth.
Mrs. Langley promised to come and Ruth and Ralph went home far better pleased than they would have been if they had been returning bridal calls in the ordinary stereotyped fashion.
THE QUERY. RUTH’S DOG DOMBEY BRINGS HER A NOTE.
Thefirst day of May Mr. Schwarmer came and brought a carload of workmen. There had been a very large number from the beginning. The Library building was completed and the building on the hill had been going on very rapidly, particularly through the months of March and April, but the pace was nothing to what it was after Mr. Schwarmer’s advent. The large lot on which the main building stood was enclosed by a high wall with gates, elevated seats and awning posts. The building itself was decorated, winged, painted, balconied and improved in wonderful ways. Band stands and observation towers arose as if by magic.
Mr. Schwarmer was a man who liked to rush things, and he was here and there and everywhere, pushing the work. When questioned as to its uses he laughed and said:
“That is a query even to myself. Come to think of it, I guess I’ll name it ‘The Query.’ It would be a good name for it and might be spelled with one e or two. A very good one truly. A capital one, since its gates are to be open to all the queer and popular things—that is the most popular, amusing, instructive and queer; and as there is always a question as to which is the most truly popularet cetera. The people of Killsbury and the county can hold their fairs here if they wish, and bring their showiest bed quilts and biggest pumpkins or things of that kind, most assuredly they can.”
A week after Mr. Schwarmer’s arrival Mrs. Schwarmer and Adelaide came, bringing with them the Librarian and the books. The work of putting the Library in order was to be rushed also, for it was to be formally opened and handed over to the town on the Fourth of July, with appropriate ceremonies.
On the day of their arrival Dombey did not make his appearance at dinner—a function which he was in the habit of observing as punctually as the other members of the family.
“Where in the world is Dombey!” exclaimed Ruth. “You don’t suppose he has gone to the train to meet Adelaide Schwarmer again? Mrs. Langley told me she was expected today.”
“Very likely,” laughed Ralph. “Dogs get habits as well as the rest of us. See, there he comes,running like Jehu! He hasn’t captured her this time; but he acts as though chain lightning had struck him. Something is up you may be sure.”
And so there was. Dombey came rushing up to Ruth with a note tied to his collar. It was from Adelaide Schwarmer, inviting her to meet them at the Library the next morning. They (she and her mother) wanted to consult her about some of the arrangements. “Father,” she said, “was very busy and had given it all into their hands to manage.”
“It’s well he has,” said Ralph angrily. “You wouldn’t have my consent to go, if he were going to be there.”
“Oh I don’t think he is really a bad man, Ralph. Only blind with regard to the characters of those about him, just as he is custom-blind in regard to other things. Anyway I forgive him for his daughter’s sake.”
“Better wait until you see what performances he introduces on Schwarmer Hill.”
“As long as Miss Schwarmer is there I feel as though the Hill has a guardian angel—or a recording angel at least, Ralph.”
“Be careful though. Don’t let them harness you into doing any hard work at the library. You know rich women are apt to do that sort of thing and you have to be extra careful of your health just now. Your mother would never forgive me if I should let you overdo while she is away.”
“Don’t be foolish, Ralph. You know how it has always been with papa and mamma. They were over-solicitous. I was never so strong and healthy in my life as I am now. I feel as though I could work, and should be glad to in such a cause. Only think of it! The gift of books and books and books and books instead of firecrackers and cartridges and toy pistols! An invitation to come and help arrange them instead of an order to pack up and leave the country to get rid of the horrible Fourth! Then the exercises in the Library instead of the carnival of death and destruction. Can you realize it, Ralph? Do you really take it all in?”
She seized hold of his arms and gave him a vigorous shaking up.
“You see Dombey got here first; but how well you are looking,” exclaimed Adelaide, when Ruth entered the library. “How plump and fair you have grown since I was here! Let me kiss you.”
A pink glow came to Ruth’s cheek which made her pretty face look still prettier, and had its effect on Adelaide also. She added shyly: “Are you tired? Did you walk? I ought to have come for you in my phaeton.”
“My husband brought me,” replied Ruth, recovering herself in time to meet the formal salutation and the cold discriminating glance of Mrs. Schwarmer, with wifely dignity.
“I trust your father and mother are usuallywell. Perhaps I ought to have sent for them to assist me in this matter; but Adelaide told me you were very enthusiastic about the library and knew everything about books. There’s an alcove set aside for the very, very choice ones—books that no one should be allowed to handle, who is ignorant of their value, so the Librarian says; but he has so much to do, we are going to help him all we can.”
“Papa and mamma are in Chicago with an uncle who is very ill—not expected to live day after day.”
“How sad,” said Mrs. Schwarmer, in the even tone which made it difficult to tell whether she meant the uncle’s sickness or the father’s and mother’s absence from home. “Mr. Bombs is in Chicago, too. He went there to meet Mr. Pang, the celebrated Pyrotechnic King. Chicago is to celebrate its centennial before long, and Mr. Pang is to do wonders there. Afac simileof old Fort Dearborn will be built on purpose for him to burn down, and he will give a realistic representation of the “Great Chicago Fire” by covering the roofs of all the highest and largest buildings in the city with Roman lights, which are to be lighted all at once and burn for hours and hours, and make it appear as though the city were really being burned up again. No doubt it will be splendid. Did Mr. Bombs say anything about it in the letter you got this morning, Adelaide? I was too busy to read it.”
“He didn’t say he’d seen Pang himself, but the Pang Co. are making great preparations for the burning,” said Adelaide, “and I think it’s horrid. It’s bad enough to have a city half burned up by accident; but to pay thousands of dollars to have it burned up in play is silly and sinful and I’m going to tell Bombs so when he comes back.”
“Hush, Adelaide,” said Mrs. Schwarmer, authoritatively. “You are too young to express such strong opinions.”
“My poor uncle lost his all in that terrible fire, his wife and children even. It broke him down utterly. He has never seen a well day since,” said Ruth. “To him even the shadow of such an experience would be dreadful.”
“Indeed! what a pity!” said Mrs. Schwarmer in the same even tone that left one in doubt as to where her pity came in, as she went into an adjoining room to have another consultation with the Librarian, after which she rustled out to her carriage and drove swiftly away.
“I am going to take you home in my phaeton when you are ready to go,” said Adelaide; “but you must see the rare books first.”
“Certainly,” replied Ruth, “and I would like to do something to help you, and perhaps I can.”
“It would help me to have you here, to see you and talk with you,” replied Adelaide; “but you must not climb or reach or handle the heavy books. It isn’t necessary. I can climb like a cat, and Iknow some nice boys who would handle them as carefully as you or I or mamma. It’s all moonshine, what the Librarian says about them. They will have to be handled by anybody who chooses, if they are going to be of any use to the town.”
“Ralph would be delighted to help—help climb,” laughed Ruth, “I know he would. Then how about the catalogues? I can write fairly well—so my husband says?”
“Oh I’m so glad, Mrs. Ruth. Pardon, let me call you Ruth. It’s such a pretty name. I write a horrid hand. Besides, I want your company. Mamma is going to be awfully busy up to the house, and Mr. Bombs is coming back in a few days. May I drive around for you every morning at ten o’clock?”
“Yes indeed you may,” replied Ruth. “I shall be delighted to come and be with you and help you and talk with you, I’m sure I shall. We think alike about so many things—about monstrous celebrations and dangerous fireworks and the burning up of money, when so much is needed to make the poor comfortable, and improve the world. As though there were not sad accidents enough in the world without going to work and making accidents. Only think of the poor people of Martinique! Only just recovered from the catastrophe of Mont Pelee when a hurricane comes and sweeps away their homes again! I wonder the horrible Fire-kings don’t go over there and try to amuse the peoplewith a Mont Pelee eruption! This making sport out of such terrible happenings seems to be the rage just now.”
“King Panghasinvented a Mont Pelee firecracker,” said Adelaide; “and a huge noise-maker it is—fifteen feet long and explodes fifty times! Do you know we visited him when we were in London and I didn’t like him at all, though he is awful rich and entertained us splendidly. He invents fiery shows and goes all over the world to pile up money out of them, although he is worth millions already.”
“Please tell me about him,” exclaimed Ruth eagerly. “I wonder if he is the one that I heard so much boasting about in Canada. The one that wooled the Americans into buying their ‘Independence Day annihilators’ of him they said. Those horrible cannon crackers, and things of that sort which kill and maim so many every year—dangerous things that never ought to be manufactured or sold in any country under the heavens. He seems like an arch-fiend to me.”
“He is as proud as Lucifer anyway,” replied Adelaide. “The whole family are as proud as they can be. They havea coat of armsand everything as magnificent as the royal family.”
“A Coat of Arms! What has he done to deserve a Coat of Arms?” asked Ruth.
“O! horrible things!—or his grandfathers have. One of them invented a war explosive for theBritish navy and another gave them a lot of powder to carry on the awful Crimean war! The Government made a Knight of him to pay him for his powder; and they are dreadfully proud of it. They’ve got it all written down on their Coat,” laughed Adelaide.
“They had better write down the number of human beings their fiendish inventions and gifts have killed,” said Ruth indignantly.
“O how glad I am to hear you say that. I told Mr. Bombs so in those very words,” exclaimed Adelaide with her eyes brim full of honest glow. “And mamma said I was too young to have an opinion about such matters,” she added in a grieved tone.
“I am only nineteen,” remarked Ruth, “but I have had an experience, and that amounts to more than years, sometimes.”
“Do you know Mr. Bombs is only twenty-one. It seems so strange that he should take it into his head to be a Pyrotechnist. But his mother died when he was young and I suspect his father was too busy making his millions to think about his training. He told me once that his nurse used to take him to the beach every evening almost, to see the fireworks. So you see he had them burned into him almost.”
“Probably the nurse had a fondness for that sort of barbarism,” replied Ruth. “O how wrong it is for parents to be so careless of their children!To trust them as they do, to the ignorant, the foolish and the wicked—they know not whom—often to anybody who is willing to wear a nurse’s cap and apron.”
“I’m sure that’s the way it was with Mr. Bombs. His head is full of fireworks. He went over to London on purpose to see King Pang and get hold of the secrets of the trade; but I think he found him rather foxy,” laughed Adelaide.
“Of course,” said Ruth. “The English Pyro-king does not relish having a rival in the American market.”
MR. BOMBS’ DISGUST WITH CHICAGO AND THE PYRO-KING’S PLANS.
Mr. Bombscame on from Chicago the evening after the first meeting of Ruth and Adelaide in the Library, greatly to the surprise of the Schwarmers, especially to Adelaide; but when she questioned him about it, he turned away without giving a reasonable excuse and went in search of her father.
“What! torn yourself away from Chicago so soon,” exclaimed Schwarmer—“the mighty central city—the huge centre of finance, rush and pluck!”
“Faugh!” replied Bombs, turning green. “The huge centre of soot, dirt and smoke! The mighty central inferno, with the Pang emissaries plotting to reburn it, and measuring it to see how much more smoke and flame it will contain.”
“Hold on, Fons,” laughed Schwarmer, “you are young yet and you are not in it. With the American millionairein itand the foreign millionaireout of it, Chicago might have its attractions, even for you—that is, in a business way, most assuredly it might. You might have to wade through mud or dust ankle deep to get at the heart of Finance—that mighty man-made canon in La Salle St.; but hark, Fons, let me tell you that when you are really and truly up and dressed for business, that canon will seem almost as glorious to you as the very finest of the God-made ones. Most assuredly it will. It’s the brainy business man’s paradise. Enough of the ‘filthy lucre’ is handled there every day to run a kingdom.”
“More’s the pity,” retorted Bombs. “Why can’t they use a little of the stuff to abate the smoke and mud nuisance and fill up the ‘bad lands’ that girdle it like a slimy serpent?”
“Because the very size of the business stands in the way, Fons. From every street corner you noticed about a dozen chimneys spouting clouds of black smoke. At least I did when I was there; but I knew it meant business and a great deal of it, and that it would not be interfered with. Rest assured it wouldn’t. Then there are the Stock Yards. They are not beautiful but they are mighty. A thousand acres of slaughter-pens mean meat for the hungry millions. They are mighty interesting looked at in that way, most assuredly they are.”
“I didn’t give the whole thing but one look,” sniffed Bombs.
“No, of course you didn’t,” laughed Schwarmer. “You were on the wrong scent, no doubt. After the beautiful, so to speak. Well, I reckon nobody ever accused Chicago of being beautiful, really and truly beautiful; but even the leopard has its spots, and there are some spots around and about the sides and tail end of the city that are just beautiful enough.”
“Yes, itisbeautiful along the margin of the lake, where the city is not—or the great bulk of it—but they are making huge preparations to spoil that. When its Centennial comes they will turn its liquid beauty into a bed of hissing, fiery serpents a mile long!”
“Yes, and Pang’s bill is to be a mile long, rest assured it is,” laughed Schwarmer. “He’s sharp enough for them. He isn’t there for fun or in search of the beautiful. He’s there for business and he’s got it, Johnny Bull fashion, by the horns—on the lake front and on the house-tops, most assuredly he has. No, Fons, business isn’t a beauty of itself, you know, or will know when you get into the whirl of it; and Chicago is the wildest kind of a whirlpool for business.”
“But I’m not there by a long shot,” said Bombs, with a sigh of relief, “and Pang is not there, at least I couldn’t find him.”
“But you’ve found us and we are glad to see you, most assuredly we are; and really there isn’t much time to spare if you are going to get yournew piece in tip-top order. It won’t do to have any failure this time, most assuredly it won’t.”
“I can’t do much until the Pyro-men come; but I’m glad to be here again and out of that infernal business hole,” said Bombs, frankly. “I found Pang’s pyro-men so immersed, so perfectly pickled in the big scheme of bombarding Fort Dearborn, reburning the city and burning Mr. Flamingdon (or whatever his name is) that I couldn’t find out about the new colors—the scientific things of the trade. It’s all trade and no science with them now. They intend to cover everything in their line. They are scheming to get hold of ‘The Chicago Amusement Association,’ I suspect.”
“What’s that, Fons?”
“Can’t describe it full length,” laughed Bombs, “but one section of it is directing attention to the small boys’ amusement on the Fourth of July. Conducted by himself they have discovered that it is not only dangerous but altogether insane, so they are seriously at work trying to construct a sane Fourth, which is to wind up with fireworks of such a splendid order as to indemnify the small boy for not being allowed to have a hand in letting them off. Of course this is where Pang will plot to come in with a ten or twenty thousand dollar piece.”
“Truly, this Fourth of July reform business is growing to be pretty wide, to reach as far as Chicago. They’ve got a new name tacked onto itthough. ‘Sane Fourth!’ Pretty good. You know I told you the other day you hadn’t better go into Fourth of July trimmings too deep—most assuredly I did, Fons.”
“I don’t intend to, Mr. Schwarmer. Historical pieces are my ambition; but that reminds me, I want to ask you something.”
“Out with it, my lad, you can’t ask me anything I wouldn’t be happy to answer, most assuredly you can’t.”
“It’s about Adelaide,” said Bombs, in an assured tone. “I know you and father have talked of uniting your families. Of course she is young yet and I am not very aged; but I am old enough to entertain the idea; and what I want to ask of you is permission to talk to her about it. My father has written me that I am to go abroad for an extended trip—that is, after I have got through here and witnessed the reburning of Chicago. When I return I shall be quite a mature man and she will be a charming young lady, no doubt. You see what would be likely to happen; but I do not feel like going away without sounding the depths—getting a sort of a free-holder’s lease—lest another fellow should come along and secure the prize. I think it well to look out for such matters ahead of time.”
“All right, Fons. I would like nothing better than to unite our families—consolidate them, so to speak. I believe in consolidations of that kind, I assure you I do, with my whole heart; but you’llhave to do your own proposing. I’m a true Yankee on that head. I should never get Anglicised on that point if I should sail over to England every month. I assure you I shouldn’t. You will have to do the straight thing. You needn’t try to win her in a round-about way through me or her mamma. She’s always had her head pretty much, and perhaps that’s what makes her rather heady. She is honest, though, and has very strong notions of the right and the wrong of things. She often takes me to task fornotsquaring my business concerns by the ‘Golden Rule.’ Probably she would do the same with her husband. Eh! Fons?”
“I understand,” replied Fons. “She’s at the formative period now. She will have left off a great many of her notions in two or four years’ time. Besides, I am not afraid of them even as they are.”
“Proceed then, young man. Push ahead with the sounding. You have my hearty permission, most assuredly you have. You seem like an only son already; and you have my best wishes for your success with the plummet-line, so to speak. No use of wasting any great amount of lead on it, though, most assuredly not. You will be able to ascertain the exact degree of perpendicularity in Addie’s case without an enormous waste of time or money. She is straight up and down as a rule, most decidedly so. There’s nothing crooked about her or slantendicular, as there often is about the oppositesex—rest assured there is not. Unlike the vast majority of fathers I have kept up an intimate acquaintance with my daughter ever since she was born, and I can give you my hand or oath on that point, most assuredly I can. I’ve nothing more to say except that I shall keep an eye on the other fellows while you are away, and that she’s heart free to date. She’s only a grown up child, so to speak—all ready to bloom but not fully bloomed out, rest assured she is not.”
With such characteristic assurance, Mr. Bombs left his prospective father-in-law to seek Adelaide. He was anxious to make his first experiment with the plummet-line as Mr. Schwarmer had not altogether inaptly called it. It pleased him to fancy that he had already scored a success in the matrimonial line, but whether it was Mr. Schwarmer’s hearty permission to talk freely to his daughter, or the plummet-line illustration that tickled his fancy the most, he could hardly have told. He may have been pleased to think that his own expression as to “sounding the depths,” had been its inspiration, for he was at the age when he was beginning to use idiomatic language and large-sized words and would be apt to note their effectiveness. As to Schwarmer, he may have had a youthful experience with plummet-lines even though it may have gone no farther than the sounding of a goose-pond.
When he found her she was coming up the hillfrom Mrs. Langley’s. She appeared on its summit at the moment when the sun was plunging down behind it like a ball of fire. It was rather a remarkable coincidence and it struck him as such, that when she got to the place where Mrs. Langley had first appeared on the night of her accident, she stopped, threw her head upward and clasped her hands around her body just as the poor scared woman had done. He understood the pantomime perfectly and it pleased him, although it recalled one of his most signal failures—that is from a professional point of view. From the artistic point it had been considered quite a success—“quite madonna like,” Miss Drawling had said, and although he would not have given a “fip” for her opinion on any other subject, he thought she had said one very good thing. His regret for the accident had never been heart deep. He inclined to the brute belief that accidents as a rule added to the human interest in life—at least the kind of accidents that call forth the tenderest kind of sympathy.
“You, have been posing,” he said as he went forward to meet her. “Really you did it well. You see I was watching for you—to tell you something.”
“I have been down to see poor Mary. She hasn’t got well of her fright yet. What a dreadful thing it was!”
“Yes, but you blamed me for it at the time, roundly. I hope you are not going to blame me over again,” said Bombs lightly.
“There’s no use. The blame will last.”
“You will forgive me before I go away.”
“How do you know, Mr. Bombs?”
“O Pythagoras in Petticoats! You are here again! I am undone!” laughed Bombs.
“Don’t call me that or I shall run away before you tell meyour something.”
“That would be a dense calamity.”
“Why dense, Mr. Bombs?”
“Because I could never get through the tangle if you were not here to ask leading questions, Miss Adelaide.”
“I am here and I am listening. But if you don’t begin to tell me at once I am going.”
“Here it is, then, without exasperating prelude. I am going away immediately after the Fourth to be gone from one to four years—four probably. Only think of that immense stretch of time! Are you glad or sad to hear the astounding revelation?”
“Before I answer I want to ask where you are going and exactly why?”
“To Germany, Austria and China. To schools of Pyrotechny everywhere—to study up the art and find out the secrets of the craft.”
“In order to beat King Pang at his trade and become an American Pyrotechnic King?”
“Undoubtedly! my father is worth his million, he would not let me take a back seat in any profession.”
“I am sorry then, Mr. Bombs.”
“For whom or what, Miss Adelaide.”
“For you, and that you are going on such a quest.”
“Are you not the least bit sorry on your own account. Will you not be a trifle lonesome without me to blame, Miss Adelaide?”
“Perhaps, Mr. Bombs, in a way.”
“In what way, Miss Adelaide?”
“Just as your sister or mother would be, I fancy.”
“Sisterly! Motherly!” laughed Bombs. “That’s infinitely correct, just now, but in two or four years from now wifely will be the proper word, and you will feel very different.”
“I’m sure four years or a thousand will not make any difference in my feelings about—”
“About what or who?” insisted Bombs.
“About you,” she added promptly.
He was looking at her with a brazen sort of fixedness that would have made almost any mature woman blush. He wanted to make her blush and he expected she would, but he was disappointed. She looked straight at him and was as placid as the traditional moonbeam.
SCHWARMER DOES A LITTLE HUSTLING ON ADELAIDE’S ACCOUNT—A FOURTH OF JULY BUGLE.
Threeskilled Pyrotechnics came down from the city a week before the Fourth to set up Mr. Bombs’ Pyro-spectacle, The Siege of Yorktown. Mr. Bombs himself was very busy superintending the work, which was conducted with all possible secrecy. He did not absolutely refuse to answer Adelaide’s questions; but he called her Pythagoras in Petticoats quite frequently and she knew that whenever the epithet came in, it was to stand in the place of an explanation; but she soon found out enough about it to know she wasn’t going to like it and she told him so frankly. She could not do otherwise. The frankness that her father claimed to have she possessed in a full degree. Moreover, she had a desire for correct knowledge which he did not possess.
She re-read the Siege of Yorktown and the life of Washington during those days and she could talk intelligently about both.
“It’s sad enough to think, Mr. Bombs, that Yorktownwasbesieged and so many lives lost and so much property destroyed, without having it done over and over and over again.”
“I’m afraid you don’t love your country and the Father of it as well as you should, Miss Adelaide.”
“Yes, I do, Mr. Bombs. I love my country and I love Washington and I wonder what he would say, were he to come back after all these years, and see us besieging an imaginary Yorktown, and burning up money which he and his men had almost perished for the want of. You haven’t represented the misery and poverty of it, Mr. Bombs.”
“No, Miss Adelaide, nor the money chests of Rochambeau and Laurens,” laughed Bombs.
“You represent only what you consider the glory of it, Mr. Bombs. Washington would never admit that there was any glory in war. He said it was ‘a plague that should be banished from the earth.’ What would he say if he should take a look at the earth as it is now and see the millions and millions spent to glorify war, be-star it and write it on God’s sky in lines of fire! And, worse still, see thousands of innocent youths sacrificed yearly, not to the patriotic sentiment, but to the patriotic fury. There was little Laurens Cornwallis’ terrible accident! Have you any idea how it could have happened, Mr. Bombs?”
“Yes, I have an idea, Miss Adelaide—at least an idea of how it might have occurred, but ideasare not worth much without proofs. They are apt to be rather prejudicial, especially with young ladies of your age. Perhaps I will tell you my idea sometime.”
“Before you go away, Mr. Bombs?”
“No, surely not. You will not be much older then,” laughed Bombs. “When I come back from Europe you will be quite a young lady. The explosion of an idea or of fireworks will not be apt to shock you then.”
“I shall always be shocked when I think of that beautiful boy’s death, Mr. Bombs. It’s a dreadful mystery!”
“Was his name Laurens or Lawrence.” asked Bombs, laconically.
“Laurens. It was his mother’s maiden name. Her ancestors were French.”
“Laurens Cornwallis! Indeed! Two celebrated names. English and French conjoined. Do they claim to be descendants of the French financier and of the English fighter?” asked Bombs.
“I have never heard so. Wouldn’t it be lovely though? Foe meeting foe in true love and friendliness through their children. Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis are a very devoted couple.”
“My point of view was simply consolatory. Providence permitting, it might not be well to have too many Cornwallis’s on American soil,” said Bombs.
“We have room enough and to spare. I reada letter yesterday from Washington to Lafayette. He said it’s a strange thing that there should not be room enough in the world for men to live without cutting each other’s throats.”
“But he laid siege to Yorktown all the same, Miss Adelaide.”
“Yes, but after it was all over and he had grown older and wiser, he saw how horrible it was. I almost know he did.”
“I am only twenty-one and the siege is booked,” laughed Bombs. “I wonder if Mrs. Ruth Cornwallis will come to witness it? I should think she would be interested, especially if one of her grandfathers paid French money for it and the other had to surrender.”
“I think she will not, but I’m going to ask her today,” replied Adelaide, as she started off for the Library.
When she returned she told Bombs that Ruth was supposedly allied to the Laurens and Cornwallis of Revolutionary fame and that her husband, Ralph Oswald Norwood, could trace his ancestry back to the British merchant who told King George that “nothing would satisfy the Americans short of permission to fish to an unlimited extent on the banks of New Foundland.”
“Then I shall have to give them seats in the front row, I suppose,” laughed Bombs.
“No, they are not coming, Mr. Bombs. Ruth attended the Queen’s birthday celebration once whenshe was in Canada. It wound up with one of the great London Pyro-king’s shows. She did not like it at all and was afterwards shocked to learn that America had paid millions of dollars for such shows during the twenty-five years of his occupancy of her market and that they were advertisements for his Fourth of July Fireworks, which are a curse to the land.”
Mr. Bombs received the information with an air of unconcern and Adelaide went to her father’s office. She had a piece of information for him also, and something more.
“O father, Ruth can’t come to our dedication if you are going to have a military company with guns and swords and a Fourth of July racket band in the procession. Such things make her sick.”
“What nonsense, Adelaide! I guess she can stand it since the small boy is not permitted to have a hand in it.”
“No she can’t, father. It isn’t nonsense. How would you feel if I should be brought to you tomorrow all torn to pieces as her little brother was?”
“O, my dear child! don’t mention it!”
“But Imustmention it and I want you to look straight into my eyes and answer me truly! Suppose I should be brought home to you this Fourth with my eyes both blown out and mamma’s jewels lodged in the sockets, do you think you could ever bear the sight or sound of horrid explosive thingsafter that—bear them without a shudder—even if they were in the hands of grown-up people?”
“Such a thing never could happen, Addie.”
“It did happen to Ruth’s little brother. The jewels were his mother’s wedding sapphires.”
“O Addie! Addie!”
“Answer me truly, father.”
“No, dear child, I never could.”
“Ruth can’t either. She has more reason than you could have. She’s like poor Mary, the gardener’s wife. Her husband and parents know it wouldn’t be safe for her to come if there’s going to be guns or things of that sort. She wants to come so much that Ralph was going to speak to you and see if they couldn’t be left out; but I told him I was the one to speak, because the Library was going to be named for me.”
“Well, there is something in that, Adelaide, most assuredly there is; but it’s rather short notice. The military company were coming on the morning train.”
“Telegraph. You’d do it if stocks were in jeopardy—you know you would—you are such a hustler.”
“Of course, of course! Here it goes then. I can’t ruin my reputation as a hustler,” said Schwarmer, stepping to the ’phone and calling up the regiment. “Don’t come to the dedication of The Adelaide Library.”
“Now, there’s one hustle for you, what next?”laughed Schwarmer. Adelaide laughed too and clapped her hands.
“O! isn’t it jolly, father! The soldiers can stay at home for once and dear, sweet, little Mrs. Ruth can come.”
“What next, Addie? I’ve got on my hustling cap. Call off.”
“The Independence Day racket band and the rockets must be left out of the procession, father.”
“O! now! that strikes nearer home, Addie! But I can do it. I can hustle things near by, most assuredly I can, if I once set out with my hustling suit all on. Bombs will have to confine his fire to Yorktown if I say so, won’t he?”
“Yes, and you’ll say so, won’t you, father?”
“Yes, Addie, I’ll say so if you really want me to; but aren’t you afraid it will hurt Bombs’ feelings to have his precious rockets left outin the dark, so to speak. He has invented a new kind on purpose for daylight show—very rich and dark and velvety, exceedingly so, and he has named it the ‘Airy Navy Rocket.’ I suppose he intends it for a hit at Lord Tennyson’s ‘airy navies grappling in the central blue,’ and no doubt but they’d get hurt if they should ever materialize sufficiently to get hit with Bombs’ rockets,” laughed Schwarmer, looking at Adelaide, keenly. He was wondering how she stood affected toward the young man.
“Airy Navy Rocket!” exclaimed Adelaide. “I won’t have it. I don’t care if his feelingsarehurt.You know how his horrid rocket hurt poor Mary. It killed her baby, hurt her feelings and made her sick. She and her children are going over to Ruth’s to stay the night of the Fourth. She is afraid to stay with us. O dear! dear! I think it’s dreadful to have our own people feel that way toward us. I can’t endure it. I thought the Common Council had passed a law against sending off dangerous rockets.”
“They have, but it didn’t include Bombs’ brand-fired new navy rocket; and even if it had a few little fines wouldn’t cramp him much,” laughed Schwarmer.
“But I include it. I say he has no business to put those hissing horrors into the Adelaide Library procession. I won’t have the Library named Adelaide if he does.”
“Good for Adelaide,” laughed Schwarmer. “That ends it. I promise. What next? There is something more. I see it in your eye.”
“Yes. Thereisone thing more. Promise not to have the cannon let off. Ruth doesn’t like to hear it and it makes her mother cry, because little Laurens shivered when he heard it the morning before he was killed, and asked her why you didn’t have a bugle?”
Schwarmer turned quickly to the ’phone and called up a music-dealer: “Please send me at once the best bugle and bugler that there is in the market.”
“That’s all, dear blessed father. I’m so happy! What a truly glorious time we are going to have,” cried Adelaide, as she danced out of the office and hastened away to the Library to tell Ruth the good news. She did not tell her about the bugle; but it came in time to speak for itself.
It’s sweet notes penetrated the Cornwallis cottage as the Fourth of July dawned. Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis were asleep when the first note came. When the second note came Mrs. Cornwallis awoke and wondered if she were still on earth. She had dreamed of being in Heaven with Laurens and listening to a bugle call. It seemed so real to her that she shook her husband’s arm.
“The bugle! The bugle! Did you hear it? Are we in Heaven?”
“Not quite, Angeline, but I think we are happier than we have been in years and Idohear a bugle. It’s time for the cannon. Do you suppose anybody could have put it into Schwarmer’s head to have a bugle instead of a cannon?”
Ruth and Ralph were awake when the first note sounded. She was gathering up her nerves for the booming of the cannon and Ralph was saying: “I believe Miss Schwarmer would influence her father to do away with that monster if she knew how it hurt you and especially your mother.”
“She does know it, Ralph, and I believe she has done it,” exclaimed Ruth, springing up andlistening intently. “Yes, Ralph, don’t you hear it? It’s a bugle! Really a bugle!”
Another note sweeter and louder greeted them.
“Yes, it is a bugle and a very fine one. What a blessed creature Adelaide Schwarmer is!” said Ralph.
Ruth could not speak. Her heart was so full of gladness, but she indulged in what Ralph called “a happy cry.”
THE DEDICATION OF THE LIBRARY.
Thededication of the library proved to be a very enjoyable affair although the military “fuss and feather,” the Independence Day racket and the ostentatious hoisting of flags were left out. It was more like a church dedication, minus the mounted marshals and uniformed cadets which are among the latter day improvements or experiments. The Schwarmers stood out more conspicuously than they would otherwise have done; but they were no more so than the Killsbury people felt that they had a right to be. Mrs. Schwarmer was in regal robes with which the ladies were much pleased. Mrs. Martin nodded to Mrs. Arundel and said:
“She has honored us at last by putting on her best apparel.”
Adelaide was dressed in a lovely white mull. Nobody had noticed until then how very pretty she had grown. Mr. Schwarmer insisted on wearing his plain business suit as it was eminently properhe should since he had to do the main business part—that is, hand over the deeds to the Town. That being done he made a short characteristic speech, in which he said:
“This building is not a monument to myself, most assuredly it is not; but it would have been if the architect had carried his point. He planned to have a giraffe style of tower, which was to rise about sixty feet above the roof and be furnished with a bell that would weigh 3,000 pounds and peal out every hour of the day and night. But as it was going to be a gift to the people and named after my daughter I thought they ought to have something to say about it, and they did; most assuredly they did (cheers and laughter). You see, my dear friends and fellow citizens, I have discarded the old barbarous saying—‘Never look a gift-horse in the mouth.’ Hereafter my maxim will be: Look a gift horse in the mouth very carefully and pay particular attention to his grinders. (Laughter and applause.) But, as I was saying, the architect’s plan was handed over to the Golden Rule President and referred to the people—‘all the people,’ my daughter included, and they decided that the giraffe tower and thunderous bell would be a superfluity if not a nuisance, most assuredly they did. They decided that they did not want to be kept awake nights by the clanging and the whanging of a brazen bell. Also that they had never had any trouble finding out the time of day.”
Schwarmer sat down amidst cries of “Good, good!” “Schwarmer’s a wit.” “What’s the matter with Schwarmer? He’s a wit. He’s a wit.”
Mrs. Schwarmer was to do the naming of the library as Adelaide was under age; and so it was highly proper and natural that Adelaide should stand between her father and mother during the process; and she did stand between them with her slender hands resting on an arm of each and looking as one of the Killsburyians remarked, “for all the world as though she were going to fly.”
She really did feel happy enough to fly when she saw the radiant faces of Ruth and Ralph and of Mrs. and Mr. Cornwallis, who had come on from Chicago on purpose to attend the dedication.
Yes, the people of Killsbury really did enjoy this peaceful, home-like affair. Although they may not have been fully aware of it, they really enjoyed it much more than they possibly could, if there had been a whole regiment of strange soldiers to take all the best seats and leave them to hang on the outside and peer in at the doors and windows. They enjoyed the speeches, for all the speech-makers in town were there, the Golden Rule President and Father Ferrill inclusive. They would not have heard a word of them if they had been pushed to the background, with an Independence day racket in the rear. Besides it was so much more in harmony with books and the spirits that made them or would wish to commune withthem, than the ordinary civic fuss and noise would have been.
Mr. Bombs did not attend. Indeed why should he? He had no interest in it after his new rockets were left out and he was almost as much a stranger in the community as the soldier would have been. Besides he was going to rehearse his piece.
Adelaide appreciated the former reason and Mr. Schwarmer the latter.
“That’s right, Fons,” said Mr. Schwarmer, “you must have your siege all fixed so nobody will get hurt, most assuredly you must. You’d better leave out some of the most striking things than to have anybody struck blind. I don’t know of anybody on this side of the drink that would be willing to be made black and blue all over or have his hair burned off by the falling of a burning tower, as old Crags did at a Pyro-show in London.”
“You forget that even his willingness didn’t hold out,” laughed Bombs. “He clothed himself with asbestos for the last night.”
“Don’t know as I blame him much and I’m sure Addie wouldn’t blame him at all, most assuredly I am,” nodded Schwarmer significantly.
Adelaide and her mother came out a moment later dressed for the library. Bombs looked at Adelaide as though he had never seen her before, made his lowest bow and went to his rehearsal. It was well he did for one of the Pyro-men was on thepoint of charging a motor that would have laid Yorktown in ashes before the siege began.
As it was, however, the siege came off at the appointed time and was witnessed by a large majority of the people of Killsbury besides the Schwarmer guests that came up on the evening train.
The best that can be said of the siege is that it passed off very smoothly and without incident. Historically considered it was just about as valuable as the famous pyro-show of the burning of Rome, where Nero goes down beneath a falling pillar of fire. The siege of Yorktown ended with the going down of Lord Cornwallis and his 8,000 soldiers into the pyrotechnic gulf especially prepared for them.
The audience applauded and Adelaide was feeling relieved to think that all was over when a vociferous encore set in and Mr. Bombs came on the stage. He looked amazingly brilliant. He had all his jewels on surely, and more too, she thought. There seemed to be a nest of them in the curl of jet black hair on his forehead. Was he going to do that tiresome siege over again? No, he would make a bow and a speech, and that would end it certainly.
He began: “The London Pyro-king who boasts of his prowess in this country, has invented a piece which he calls ‘Eagle Screams’. Turn about is fair play. I have invented a piece which I have named ‘Johnny Bull’s Bellows.’ You will now havethe pleasure or grief of looking Johnny full in the face and listening to his bellowings.”
He bowed again more politely and gracefully than before—as graceful as a—serpent, she finally put it and “polite enough to shake hands with a crab,” as the Indians say. She had never seen him look so splendid—so—startling; but she liked him less than ever.
The bull’s head that was formed while Adelaide was forming her opinions was shaped like a veritable bull’s head and outlined with stars of small magnitude. From its mouth and nostrils issued great streams of different colored fires. The bellowings were effectively but mysteriously produced.
“I can’t see faw the life of me, Mr. Bombs, just how you could have compassed all that,” Miss Drawling was saying, when something in the nature of a revelation cut short her sentence. The bellowings suddenly ceased and loud oaths and grumblings and groanings took their place. Mr. Bombs rushed behind the scenes and saw the man whom he had engaged to do the bellowing, lying in a collapsed condition on the floor of the stage with a whiskey bottle in his hand.
“Confound you!” exclaimed Bombs, “what does all this mean?”
“It means that the lungs av me have been giving out with the dress rehearsal and the play on top av it and I am sthriving to reinforce them.”
“Allow me to say that your efforts are not successful. You can be excused until further notice, and you,” he added turning to the chief Pyro, “will oblige me by winding up the spectacle without any more swearing.”
The spectacle of Johnny Bull’s Bellows was wound up according to order and Mr. Bombs appeared on the stage and gave a humorous account of the complication behind the scenes which had cut off the spectacle rather prematurely, and added that it was not quite so bad as the thing that had happened to Mr. Pang on his first presentation of the burning of Rome. He related the incident and the guests were greatly amused—almost as much, perhaps, as they would have been if “Johnny Bull’s Bellowings” had been carried out to the full extent.
And so, Mr. Bombs fancied he had not failed after all. If he had done nothing more he had proved himself to have the proper personality for the making of a successful Pyro-King. He could fascinate and mystify the public. “You see,” he said to Adelaide the next morning, “I might better have such accidents and experiences now than when I get about my larger piece—‘The Battle of the Wilderness.’”
“The Battle of the Wilderness!” exclaimed Adelaide. “Is it possible you are going to try making an amusement out of that dreadful battle?”
“Yes, it’s a possibility,” laughed Bombs, “andI know of another possibility, that will match it beautifully.”
“What is it, Mr. Bombs?”
“That Miss Adelaide Schwarmer will not be so scrupulous about such matters when I return from Europe as she is now.”
“Why do you think so, Mr. Bombs? Have you changed that way since you were my age?”
“No, Miss Adelaide, but I was a boy and you are a girl.”
“What difference could that make, Mr. Bombs.”
“A mighty sight of difference, Miss Adelaide. You were not educated or expected to have anything to do with business concerns. I was and with the very biggest kind, and they all mean war, more or less.”
“O dear, how dreadful! I can’t understand it at all, Mr. Bombs.”
“Of course you can’t, Miss Adelaide. No truly good woman can. Business, especially of the vasty kind is a devil incarnate in her pure eyes.”
“And it seems to me that your kind of business is the worst of all, Mr. Bombs, and that there’s no need of it in this world.”
“Can’t you think of something more consoling? This is your last chance. I am going to the city tomorrow to see King Pang beat himself in his twenty-fifth saturnalia of fire. Then to Chicago to see him help the Chicagoians beat the St. Louis dedication and re-burn the city. After that I willstart out on what you have called my ‘worst of all business.’”
Adelaide thought of Laurens Cornwallis’ tragic death, of Mary Langley’s fright and the poor man with the exhausted lungs; but she did not speak until the silence had become unbearable to Mr. Bombs and he asked:
“What is it, Miss Adelaide? Why don’t you speak out?”
“Hush! Mr. Bombs. I am listening! I thought I heard a voice. Your mother’s or mine.”
They were discouraging words for the last—almost cruel he thought for him who had known nothing of mother love and very little of parental care. They made him feel like a savage almost. He went to Miss Drawling for an offset. He knew he could get enough encouragement there and he did find more than enough. Not but what he liked her flattery but the personality behind it. Faugh! It was simply disgusting. Any woman who could think and talk as she did, was worse than a man. She was a brute. Would it be ever thus, was one of the questions he asked himself. Was one truly loveable creature going to say things to him that would not be endurable in themselves and was another going to say opposite things which would make herself a creature to be abhorred. With the unreasonableness of the youthful man he hoped to find a mean between the two—that is a woman who would love himself most deeply and devotedlyeven while she was finding fault with and condoning his business enterprise. He did not realize it but it was as much as to say that he knew he was launching out in an unrighteous course; but that he was determined not to turn from it for the love of any creature whatever. Adelaide understood his attitude toward herself and she did not care a rush for it; but there was something about his attitude to others which she did not fully understand. It was struggling to light and it filled her soul with dread.
ADELAIDE STAYS AT HOME WITH HER FATHER.
Mr. Bombsdid not go to Chicago alone nor as soon as he intended. He planned to go at the first breaking out of the Centennial, which was to be on the day when Chicago was exactly one hundred years old. The city was expected to be in an unusual state of ferment from the beginning; and many things were going to be done to herald the coming glory of the Jubilee week, among the most important of which was to be the much advertised re-burning of the city.
“King Pang is trying to keep his fires to the front; but his ‘ads’ will cost him something,” laughed Bombs scornfully; “for there are others and others and they are going to make a big show of everything, from a razor-back porker to a Golden Rule Mayor. It will be tedious.”
“Everything ‘from a jackass to a lyre,’ as the Romans say,” remarked Miss Drawling.
“Yes, and you might spell it l-i-a-r,” sneered Bombs. “I don’t believe Pang will be there.”
“Then why do you go so soon?” asked Mrs. Schwarmer. “You will die ofte-di-um—notte-deum. There! Mr. Bombs you have spoiled me. I never made a pun before in my life. I had rather make a pie than a pun.”
They all laughed and Bombs said he “must obey his royal father’s mandate, and find out all he could about Pang’s trade, with or without King Pang’s aid.”
“Perhaps if you will wait a little we will go with you and try to divide the tedium into shares,” suggested Mrs. Schwarmer, whereupon there occurred a large amount of social banter which finally ended in a declaration from the ladies that if he wouldwaitthey would surely accompany him; and a declaration fromhimthat iftheywould surely accompany him,hewould surely wait.
“And you, Miss Adelaide, and Mr. Schwarmer—you will go and take shares with us, will you not?” asked Bombs.
“Say no, father. We don’t want any stock in the Chicago Jubilee. Let’s stay here together,” said Adelaide.
“Of course we will stay and keep house, Addie—that is, eat up our dividends, so to speak.”
“Good! Good!” laughed Adelaide.
“Indeed, Miss Adelaide! Won’t you feel rather lonely to have us all flit away?”
“No, Mr. Bombs. I can go to see Ruth every day and the faithful Dombey will be my escort. Ilike it here. It’s so beautiful, still and sweet. I would not go to Chicago and be in all that smoke, dust, fire, dynamite and stuff for anything. O how happy we are going to be here, aren’t we father?”
“Yes, Addie, quite comfortable, I reckon. Of course we shall miss them, most assuredly we shall; but we’ll try and not grow thin over it,” laughed Schwarmer.
The next day after their departure Adelaide went to see Ruth and took her mother’s journal as she had promised.
“You see how dearly I prize it,” she said, taking off the rose-scented covering. “I have had it rebound and adorned with her own portrait and those of otherFriendsso far as I can find them—every one she mentioned in the Journal—William Penn, Elizabeth Fry, Lucretia Mott and many others.”
She handed it to Ruth to look at the portraits. It was bound in soft gray plush and had bands and clasps of solid silver.
“O how delicate and shining!” exclaimed Ruth taking it tenderly from her hand—“like her quiet, cheerful spirit I fancy.”
“Yes, that’s the way I tried to have it seem,” replied Adelaide brushing away a tear; “but I didn’t know as you would understand it. Her dresses are all of this dove-like tint. Sometimes when I am alone I put them on.”
“Did she wear the Friends’ cap and bonnet?” asked Ruth.
“No, she did not think them essential; but she drew the line at adornments for the production of which human life is imperiled or animal life recklessly destroyed,” replied Adelaide.
“And this is your mamma on the first page? How much you look like her!”
“Not mamma, but mother,” said Adelaide. “She wanted me to call her mother—to speak of her and think of her as mother, and I always have. I call mysecondmother, mamma.”
“How old were you when she died?” asked Ruth.
“Three years, and father married again when I was four.”
Ruth handed back the journal and Adelaide began reading in a low tuneful voice like that of a mother talking to her child.
“My Dear Daughter Adelaide:
“The doctors say that I have consumption—the incurable disease, and that I cannot live many years at the longest. I can hardly believe it—I feel so well and happy and have such a desire to live and be ever near thee to guard thee against the evils and perils of this world; but lest I may not I will try to make it plain to thee what the evils and perils are that encompass us around and about—plain to thee according to my light, received through the teachings that have been handeddown to me through a long line of ancestry, from such good and wise men as George Fox and William Penn. Remember that I do not say that they were the only wise teachers in the world or that their light is the perfect light or rather all the light; but that it is good so far as it goes has not as yet been gainsayed. Even thy father who was not reared in my faith, can find no flaw in it except that it is impracticable in the present imperfect conditions of the world. I trust he is beginning to see the light of Christ as it is and will be. Keep near him, dear child, very near him. Seek for the living light together, hand in hand. It is needed everywhere, in our daily walk and conversation and even in our dress and adornments. I am not one who thinks that the cut or style of a dress or hat is of great importance and yet I have been led to perceive that there is a line beyond which it would be a sin to go—that we should use nothing for personal adornment which calls for the cruel slaughter of animals or for vicious and degrading work from our fellow creatures. Lest words fail to express my meaning, I will give thee an experience of my own as an illustration.
“Thy father gave me a set of pearls for a wedding gift. All my friends both in and out of Friends Society said it was a beautiful and appropriate gift. I thought so too. Their gentle lustre pleased me. They were in harmony with my silver-gray gown. We went to Paris for ourwedding trip. One day we visited the famous oyster markets and parks which provide such a bountiful food supply for the sustenance of the human race.
“‘What a blessing particularly to the working people,’ said thy father. ‘The ever-ready meat that unlike beef does not have to be killed and cooked.’
“But even while we were talking of the goodness of Providence in furnishing such a convenient sort of food, a shadow crossed our path, that startled us both. It was a man with a sallow complexion, bulging brow and piercing eyes. He was hurrying on at a wild and rapid pace but as he observed us he stopped stone still and glared at us—or rather at my pearl brooch and ring—glancing from one to the other with a greedy look that frightened me for I had read of people being robbed of jewels in the streets of Paris in broad daylight.
“‘Oh! he’s not dangerous,’ laughed the guide. ‘He’s one of those scientific wretches who is on the watchout for pearl oysters. He goes prowling around the oyster beds and markets in search of them. He was looking at your pearls to see if they had aperfect skinand afine orient.’
“‘I see he is interested in oysters as pearl producers instead of food products,’ said thy father.
“‘He has curious ideas about pearls,’ said the guide. ‘He says they are the product of disease in the animal—that the disease is contagious and he is hard at work trying to spread the contagion!’
“‘Spreading contagion among oysters! What a work for a sane man,’ said thy father. ‘How does he manage the business?’
“‘He takes the oysters that are afflicted with the pearl disease and puts them in the bed with those that are not afflicted and keeps them there until they catch the disease. He says it is as easy to spread as the small pox.’
“O how horrid! I cried. How satanic! To think of going to work deliberately to introduce disease and contagion, even among the lower forms of life! And he does all this, not to benefit the hungry poor but to hang more and more pearls around the necks of the greedy rich!
“Thy father laughed; but it was no laughing matter for me. I cried over my wedding pearls that night and resolved to lock them up out of my sight as soon as I returned home.
“The next day I was strengthened in my resolution by meeting with a pearl diver. The poor man was worn out before his time by this dreadful business. He sat day after day by the sea looking out upon its sparkling surface and dreaming and talking of the perils he had encountered down below in its green gloom—of the hideous armor he wore when he went forth to war with its savage army of sharks and devil-fishes, in order to win pearls for the Queens of the world and the queens of men’s hearts.