CHAPTER XV.
JOHN WYCLIFF had made his plans for remaining in Papyrus. Zechariah Baldwin had paid the full amount of John Wycliff’s legal demands. The latter, through the agency of his friend, Ford Hulbert, had purchased the Van Alstyne estate, comprising the old Van Alstyne homestead, numerous tenements located in different parts of the town, and several hundred acres of land on the outskirts of the town. It was the largest piece of real estate in Papyrus, except the Wesson Mills, which the all-devouring Baldwins had not secured.
Scarcely had Wycliff moved his family into the old Van Alstyne homestead, when all his plans were upset by a letter from Colonel Lathrop, proposing that he remove to Emerald Valley, and giving very substantial reasons for such proposal. The Colonel wrote in part:—
“Senator Smith recently died, and Governor Brown offers me the appointmentto the U. S. Senate until the Legislature meets, when it is reasonably sure that it will elect me for the remainder of Senator Smith’s unexpired term. Of course you will see the wisdom of having one of the owners of the Rattlesnake Mine resident here. I am not a statesman. I am not much of a politician, except that, in a large measure, I have footed the bills of my party here. My claims upon the people are two: First, as the father of irrigation in this region. Second, in partnership with yourself, as one of the owners of the leading gold mine in this section.
“I should like to spend a year in the Millionaires’ Club, at Washington, and obtain the title of U. S. Senator for my old age. The Rattlesnake Mine, which now includes the Dead Open and Shut, is forging rapidly to the front of all gold-mining properties in the West, and there is scarcely a doubt that after I have completed the late Senator Smith’s term, you could be elected to succeed me. Money makes senators, and this is as true ofthe East as of the West in these days.
“I remember, as a young man, you used to be proud of New England. You used to speak of the New England love of fair play, and you would grow eloquent in praise of the New England conscience. Haven’t you had enough of New England fair play? Do you want more of it?
“I saw a leading Abolitionist dragged through the streets of Boston. I learned then where the New England conscience was, and is. It was, and is, inside the New England pocket-book. Had slavery been profitable in New England we should not have had the Civil War, and slavery would still be an American institution. I fought in that war, but I cannot close my eyes to the truth. There were soldiers under my command, who, as Northern laborers, were more to be pitied than the slaves on the better class of Southern plantations.
“I remember a young man—(do you remember him?)—who was a great admirer of the SpringdaleDemocrat, whichhas been called the New England Bible. It is eloquent, in season and out of season, in advocating equal rights for the Southern negro and the Filipino, but never asks equal rights for the mill-hands of Papyrus. It does not hesitate to criticise the President of the United States, but its millionaire idol, Congressman Baldwin, is exempt from criticism. Can you defend this course?
“Let me urge one consideration which cannot fail to have weight with you. Your physician will tell you, much better than I can, that your son’s chances of living to a vigorous manhood will be much improved by coming here. Here, in all probability, he would reach a rugged maturity, and here is the mining property with which he should become familiar, as he must some day, in the natural course of events, bear a part in its management.�
Wycliff had scarcely finished reading this letter to his wife, when she said:—
“There are Eva Baldwin and Ralph Cutter, apparently coming here.� Onlya few days before had the newspapers announced the couple’s engagement.
“I am told,� said Miss Baldwin, “that you own the territory to the northward, known as the Wilderness. There are reasons, purely sentimental, why I would like to purchase a portion of it, including Pulpit Rock. Would you sell it?�
“I had not intended to sell,� replied Wycliff. “I had thought of making a sheep-range of it. At the same time I intended making paths through it, as our Robert needs just the exercise which he could get there. However, if the possession of a portion of it would give pleasure to you, I suppose that I ought to sell, provided my wife agrees.�
“I have no objection,� said Mrs. Wycliff. “It seems to me that the Wilderness is large enough to accommodate both of us.�
“We shall probably soon go West for a time,� said Wycliff, “but my agent, Ford Hulbert, will attend to the matter. I think that you and he will have no difficulty. I believe the day will come, althoughnot in our time, when there will be no private ownership of land, it is subject to so many abuses.�
“Amen,� exclaimed Ralph Cutter. “I believe that the Lord made this earth for the enjoyment of all his people, not to have its blessings monopolized by a favored few. Government ownership of land must come, I believe, although you and I will probably not live to see it.�
A little later Miss Boardman and Ford Hulbert drove up. “I don’t know what you will think of Lena,� said the gentleman. “She seems to be getting ambitious, wants me to buy of you one of the peaks of Twin Mountain for a summer residence. I am afraid you will not care to sell.�
“It seems likely,� said Wycliff, “that we shall go west to look after our mining property, leaving everything here in your care. I hope we may be able to return occasionally. If we ever build on Twin Mountain, I think one peak will be ample for our use, will it not?� he asked, addressing his wife.
“I hope we may be able to spend some time here each summer,� Mrs. Wycliff replied. “If we ever do build on Twin Mountain it will be very pleasant to have you there for neighbors.�
When they had gone Uncle Jerry Barnaby came to give an account of his stewardship of Twin Mountain Farm. He seemed to be hardly the same person as the woe-begone, long-faced man they had once known.
“How is your daughter?� asked Mrs. Wycliff.
“You never saw such a change in anyone,� said Uncle Jerry. “Pet is hardly the same woman that she was when she left Papyrus.�
“What has done it? Our mountain air?�
“I don’t wish to run down our mountain air; the fact is, I’ve seen the time when you couldn’t run it down with an express train. But givin’ the mountain air all the credit that belongs to it, still it’s those letters from Oregon that have saved Pet. It’s the old, old story,—‘’Tislove that makes the world go ’round.’
“When that first letter came to Pet, from ’way up in the great Northwest, it made a little spot of color on Pet’s cheeks just about as big as the first bit of color that shows in a rosebud, and that spot, or that pair of spots, have been growin’ bigger ever since till now the roses are pretty much full-blown.�
“When is he coming?�
“In a fortnight.�
“And then?�
“They will be married, and go to his home in the Oregon woods. Pet always did like the woods, and she’ll have woods a plenty there. He has hundreds of acres of forest.�
“Pop,� said Robbie later, as he climbed on to his father’s knees, by the window, “see that pretty pony and little cart coming down the street. Say, Pop, when I was so sick did you promise me a pony and a cart, or did I dream it?�
“I promised,� replied the father, but now the pony and cart were at the door.
Still later a very tired boy was restingcomfortably in his kind father’s arms.
“Pop,� he said, “are we really and truly rich?�
“It looks like that,� replied the father, “but I was rich before.�
“How is that?� asked the boy.
“Please bring me that old scrap-book, Robbie.�
The boy brought it, and the father read aloud these lines:—
“I have thought myself poor since God withheldFrom me His lands and gold,Forgetting that some of his gifts excelledMere wealth a thousand fold.“For what is the wealth of the teeming fieldsBeside thy love, wife mine?And measured by joy a child’s love yieldsWhat worth is a golden mine?�
“I have thought myself poor since God withheldFrom me His lands and gold,Forgetting that some of his gifts excelledMere wealth a thousand fold.“For what is the wealth of the teeming fieldsBeside thy love, wife mine?And measured by joy a child’s love yieldsWhat worth is a golden mine?�
“I have thought myself poor since God withheldFrom me His lands and gold,Forgetting that some of his gifts excelledMere wealth a thousand fold.
“I have thought myself poor since God withheld
From me His lands and gold,
Forgetting that some of his gifts excelled
Mere wealth a thousand fold.
“For what is the wealth of the teeming fieldsBeside thy love, wife mine?And measured by joy a child’s love yieldsWhat worth is a golden mine?�
“For what is the wealth of the teeming fields
Beside thy love, wife mine?
And measured by joy a child’s love yields
What worth is a golden mine?�
THE END.