Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation, Page 4

  DICK SPINDLER'S FAMILY CHRISTMAS

  There was surprise and sometimes disappointment in Rough and Ready, whenit was known that Dick Spindler intended to give a "family" Christmasparty at his own house. That he should take an early opportunity tocelebrate his good fortune and show hospitality was only expected fromthe man who had just made a handsome "strike" on his claim; but that itshould assume so conservative, old-fashioned, and respectable a form wasquite unlooked-for by Rough and Ready, and was thought by some a triflepretentious. There were not half-a-dozen families in Rough and Ready;nobody ever knew before that Spindler had any relations, and this"ringing in" of strangers to the settlement seemed to indicate at leasta lack of public spirit. "He might," urged one of his critics, "hevgiven the boys,--that had worked alongside o' him in the ditches by day,and slung lies with him around the camp-fire by night,--he might hevgiven them a square 'blow out,' and kep' the leavin's for his oldSpindler crew, just as other families do. Why, when old man Scudder hadhis house-raisin' last year, his family lived for a week on what wasleft over, arter the boys had waltzed through the house that night,--andthe Scudders warn't strangers, either." It was also evident that therewas an uneasy feeling that Spindler's action indicated an unhallowedleaning towards the minority of respectability and exclusiveness, anda desertion--without the excuse of matrimony--of the convivial andindependent bachelor majority of Rough and Ready.

  "Ef he was stuck after some gal and was kinder looking ahead, I'd hevunderstood it," argued another critic.

  "Don't ye be too sure he ain't," said Uncle Jim Starbuck gloomily."Ye'll find that some blamed woman is at the bottom of this yer 'family'gathering. That and trouble ez almost all they're made for!"

  There happened to be some truth in this dark prophecy, but none of thekind that the misogynist supposed. In fact, Spindler had called afew evenings before at the house of the Rev. Mr. Saltover, and Mrs.Saltover, having one of her "Saleratus headaches," had turned him overto her widow sister, Mrs. Huldy Price, who obediently bestowed uponhim that practical and critical attention which she divided with thestocking she was darning. She was a woman of thirty-five, of singularnerve and practical wisdom, who had once smuggled her wounded husbandhome from a border affray, calmly made coffee for his deceived pursuerswhile he lay hidden in the loft, walked four miles for that medicalassistance which arrived too late to save him, buried him secretly inhis own "quarter section," with only one other witness and mourner, andso saved her position and property in that wild community, who believedhe had fled. There was very little of this experience to be traced inher round, fresh-colored brunette cheek, her calm black eyes, set ina prickly hedge of stiff lashes, her plump figure, or her frank,courageous laugh. The latter appeared as a smile when she welcomed Mr.Spindler. "She hadn't seen him for a coon's age," but "reckoned he wasbusy fixin' up his new house."

  "Well, yes," said Spindler, with a slight hesitation, "ye see, I'mreckonin' to hev a kinder Christmas gatherin' of my"--he was about tosay "folks," but dismissed it for "relations," and finally settled upon"relatives" as being more correct in a preacher's house.

  Mrs. Price thought it a very good idea. Christmas was the natural seasonfor the family to gather to "see who's here and who's there, who'sgettin' on and who isn't, and who's dead and buried. It was luckyfor them who were so placed that they could do so and be joyful."Her invincible philosophy probably carried her past any dangerousrecollections of the lonely grave in Kansas, and holding up the stockingto the light, she glanced cheerfully along its level to Mr. Spindler'sembarrassed face by the fire.

  "Well, I can't say much ez to that," responded Spindler, stillawkwardly, "for you see I don't know much about it anyway."

  "How long since you've seen 'em?" asked Mrs. Price, apparentlyaddressing herself to the stocking.

  Spindler gave a weak laugh. "Well, you see, ef it comes to that, I'venever seen 'em!"

  Mrs. Price put the stocking in her lap and opened her direct eyeson Spindler. "Never seen 'em?" she repeated. "Then, they're not nearrelations?"

  "There are three cousins," said Spindler, checking them off on hisfingers, "a half-uncle, a kind of brother-in-law,--that is, the brotherof my sister-in-law's second husband,--and a niece. That's six."

  "But if you've not seen them, I suppose they've corresponded with you?"said Mrs. Price.

  "They've nearly all of 'em written to me for money, seeing my namein the paper ez hevin' made a strike," returned Spindler simply; "andhevin' sent it, I jest know their addresses."

  "Oh!" said Mrs. Price, returning to the stocking.

  Something in the tone of her ejaculation increased Spindler'sembarrassment, but it also made him desperate. "You see, Mrs. Price,"he blurted out, "I oughter tell ye that I reckon they are the folks that'hevn't got on,' don't you see, and so it seemed only the square thingfor me, ez had 'got on,' to give them a sort o' Christmas festival.Suthin', don't ye know, like what your brother-in-law was sayin' lastSunday in the pulpit about this yer peace and goodwill 'twixt man andman."

  Mrs. Price looked again at the man before her. His sallow, perplexedface exhibited some doubt, yet a certain determination, regardingthe prospect the quotation had opened to him. "A very good idea, Mr.Spindler, and one that does you great credit," she said gravely.

  "I'm mighty glad to hear you say so, Mrs. Price," he said, with anaccent of great relief, "for I reckoned to ask you a great favor! Yousee," he fell into his former hesitation, "that is--the fact is--thatthis sort o' thing is rather suddent to me,--a little outer my line,don't you see, and I was goin' to ask ye ef you'd mind takin' the hullthing in hand and runnin it for me."

  "Running it for you," said Mrs. Price, with a quick eye-shot from underthe edge of her lashes. "Man alive! What are you thinking of?"

  "Bossin' the whole job for me," hurried on Spindler, with nervousdesperation. "Gettin' together all the things and makin' ready for'em,--orderin' in everythin' that's wanted, and fixin' up the rooms,--Ikin step out while you're doin' it,--and then helpin' me receivin' 'em,and sittin' at the head o' the table, you know,--like ez ef you was themistress."

  "But," said Mrs. Price, with her frank laugh, "that's the duty of one ofyour relations,--your niece, for instance,--or cousin, if one of them isa woman."

  "But," persisted Spindler, "you see, they're strangers to me; I don'tknow 'em, and I do you. You'd make it easy for 'em,--and for me,--don'tyou see? Kinder introduce 'em,--don't you know? A woman of your gin'ralexperience would smooth down all them little difficulties," continuedSpindler, with a vague recollection of the Kansas story, "and puteverybody on velvet. Don't say 'No,' Mrs. Price! I'm just kalkilatin' onyou."

  Sincerity and persistency in a man goes a great way with even the bestof women. Mrs. Price, who had at first received Spindler's request as anamusing originality, now began to incline secretly towards it. And, ofcourse, began to suggest objections.

  "I'm afraid it won't do," she said thoughtfully, awakening to the factthat it would do and could be done. "You see, I've promised to spendChristmas at Sacramento with my nieces from Baltimore. And then there'sMrs. Saltover and my sister to consult."

  But here Spindler's simple face showed such signs of distress that thewidow declared she would "think it over,"--a process which the sanguineSpindler seemed to consider so nearly akin to talking it over that Mrs.Price began to believe it herself, as he hopefully departed.

  She "thought it over" sufficiently to go to Sacramento and excuseherself to her nieces. But here she permitted herself to "talk it over,"to the infinite delight of those Baltimore girls, who thought thisextravaganza of Spindler's "so Californian and eccentric!" So that itwas not strange that presently the news came back to Rough and Ready,and his old associates learned for the first time that he had never seenhis relatives, and that they would be doubly strangers. This did notincrease his popularity; neither, I grieve to say, did the intelligencethat his relatives were probably poor, and that the Reverend Mr.Saltover had approved of his course, and had likened it to the richman's f
east, to which the halt and blind were invited. Indeed, theallusion was supposed to add hypocrisy and a bid for popularity toSpindler's defection, for it was argued that he might have feasted"Wall-eyed Joe" or "Tangle-foot Billy,"--who had once been "chawed" bya bear while prospecting,--if he had been sincere. Howbeit, Spindler'sfaith was oblivious to these criticisms, in his joy at Mr. Saltover'sadhesion to his plans and the loan of Mrs. Price as a hostess. Infact, he proposed to her that the invitation should also convey thatinformation in the expression, "by the kind permission of the Rev. Mr.Saltover," as a guarantee of good faith, but the widow would have noneof it. The invitations were duly written and dispatched.

  "Suppose," suggested Spindler, with a sudden lugubriousapprehension,--"suppose they shouldn't come?"

  "Have no fear of that," said Mrs. Price, with a frank laugh.

  "Or ef they was dead," continued Spindler.

  "They couldn't all be dead," said the widow cheerfully.

  "I've written to another cousin by marriage," said Spindler dubiously,"in case of accident; I didn't think of him before, because he wasrich."

  "And have you ever seen him either, Mr. Spindler?" asked the widow, witha slight mischievousness.

  "Lordy! No!" he responded, with unaffected concern.

  Only one mistake was made by Mrs. Price in her arrangements for theparty. She had noticed what the simple-minded Spindler could never haveconceived,--the feeling towards him held by his old associates, and hadtactfully suggested that a general invitation should be extended to themin the evening.

  "You can have refreshments, you know, too, after the dinner, and gamesand music."

  "But," said the unsophisticated host, "won't the boys think I'm playingit rather low down on them, so to speak, givin' 'em a kind o' secondtable, as ef it was the tailings after a strike?"

  "Nonsense," said Mrs. Price, with decision. "It's quite fashionable inSan Francisco, and just the thing to do."

  To this decision Spindler, in his blind faith in the widow's management,weakly yielded. An announcement in the "Weekly Banner" that, "OnChristmas evening Richard Spindler, Esq., proposed to entertain hisfriends and fellow citizens at an 'at home,' in his own residence,"not only widened the breach between him and the "boys," but awakened anactive resentment that only waited for an outlet. It was understood thatthey were all coming; but that they should have "some fun out of it"which might not coincide with Spindler's nor his relatives' sense ofhumor seemed a foregone conclusion.

  Unfortunately, too, subsequent events lent themselves to this irony ofthe situation.

  He was so obviously sincere in his intent, and, above all, seemed toplace such a pathetic reliance on her judgment, that she hesitated tolet him know the shock his revelation had given her. And what might hisother relations prove to be? Good Lord! Yet, oddly enough, she was soprepossessed by him, and so fascinated by his very Quixotism, that itwas perhaps for these complex reasons that she said a little stiffly:--

  "One of these cousins, I see, is a lady, and then there is your niece.Do you know anything about them, Mr. Spindler?"

  His face grew serious. "No more than I know of the others," he saidapologetically. After a moment's hesitation he went on: "Now you speakof it, it seems to me I've heard that my niece was di-vorced. But," headded, brightening up, "I've heard that she was popular."

  Mrs. Price gave a short laugh, and was silent for a few minutes. Thenthis sublime little woman looked up at him. What he might have seen inher eyes was more than he expected, or, I fear, deserved. "Cheer up, Mr.Spindler," she said manfully. "I'll see you through this thing, don'tyou mind! But don't you say anything about--about--this VigilanceCommittee business to anybody. Nor about your niece--it was your niece,wasn't it?--being divorced. Charley (the late Mr. Price) had a queersort of sister, who--but that's neither here nor there! And your niecemayn't come, you know; or if she does, you ain't bound to bring her outto the general company."

  At parting, Spindler, in sheer gratefulness, pressed her hand, andlingered so long over it that a little color sprang into the widow'sbrown cheek. Perhaps a fresh courage sprang into her heart, too, forshe went to Sacramento the next day, previously enjoining Spindler on noaccount to show any answers he might receive. At Sacramento her niecesflew to her with confidences.

  "We so wanted to see you, Aunt Huldy, for we've heard something sodelightful about your funny Christmas Party!" Mrs. Price's heart sank,but her eyes snapped. "Only think of it! One of Mr. Spindler's long-lostrelatives--a Mr. Wragg--lives in this hotel, and papa knows him. He'sa sort of half-uncle, I believe, and he's just furious that Spindlershould have invited him. He showed papa the letter; said it wasthe greatest piece of insolence in the world; that Spindler was anostentatious fool, who had made a little money and wanted to use himto get into society; and the fun of the whole thing was that thishalf-uncle and whole brute is himself a parvenu,--a vulgar, ostentatiouscreature, who was only a"--

  "Never mind what he was, Kate," interrupted Mrs. Price hastily. "I callhis conduct a shame."

  "So do we," said both girls eagerly. After a pause Kate clasped herknees with her locked fingers, and rocking backwards and forwards, said,"Milly and I have got an idea, and don't you say 'No' to it. We've hadit ever since that brute talked in that way. Now, through him, we knowmore about this Mr. Spindler's family connections than you do; and weknow all the trouble you and he'll have in getting up this party. Youunderstand? Now, we first want to know what Spindler's like. Is he asavage, bearded creature, like the miners we saw on the boat?"

  Mrs. Price said that, on the contrary, he was very gentle, soft-spoken,and rather good-looking.

  "Young or old?"

  "Young,--in fact, a mere boy, as you may judge from his actions,"returned Mrs. Price, with a suggestive matronly air.

  Kate here put up a long-handled eyeglass to her fine gray eyes, fittedit ostentatiously over her aquiline nose, and then said, in a voice ofsimulated horror, "Aunt Huldy,--this revelation is shocking!"

  Mrs. Price laughed her usual frank laugh, albeit her brown cheek tookupon it a faint tint of Indian red. "If that's the wonderful idea yougirls have got, I don't see how it's going to help matters," she saiddryly.

  "No, that's not it? We really have an idea. Now look here."

  Mrs. Price "looked here." This process seemed to the superficialobserver to be merely submitting her waist and shoulders to the arms ofher nieces, and her ears to their confidential and coaxing voices.

  Twice she said "it couldn't be thought of," and "it was impossible;"once addressed Kate as "You limb!" and finally said that she "wouldn'tpromise, but might write!"

  *****

  It was two days before Christmas. There was nothing in the air, sky,or landscape of that Sierran slope to suggest the season to the Easternstranger. A soft rain had been dropping for a week on laurel, pine, andbuckeye, and the blades of springing grasses and shyly opening flowers.Sedate and silent hillsides that had grown dumb and parched towards theend of the dry season became gently articulate again; there were murmursin hushed and forgotten canyons, the leap and laugh of water among thedry bones of dusty creeks, and the full song of the larger forks andrivers. Southwest winds brought the warm odor of the pine sap swellingin the forest, or the faint, far-off spice of wild mustard springingin the lower valleys. But, as if by some irony of Nature, this gentleinvasion of spring in the wild wood brought only disturbance anddiscomfort to the haunts and works of man. The ditches were overflowed,the fords of the Fork impassable, the sluicing adrift, and the trailsand wagon roads to Rough and Ready knee-deep in mud. The stage-coachfrom Sacramento, entering the settlement by the mountain highway, itswheels and panels clogged and crusted with an unctuous pigment like mudand blood, passed out of it through the overflowed and dangerous ford,and emerged in spotless purity, leaving its stains behind with Roughand Ready. A week of enforced idleness on the river "Bar" had driventhe miners to the more comfortable recreation of the saloon bar, itsmirrors, its florid paintings, its armchairs, and its stove. The steam
of their wet boots and the smoke of their pipes hung over the latterlike the sacrificial incense from an altar. But the attitude of the menwas more critical and censorious than contented, and showed little ofthe gentleness of the weather or season.

  "Did you hear if the stage brought down any more relations ofSpindler's?"

  The barkeeper, to whom this question was addressed, shifted his loungingposition against the bar and said, "I reckon not, ez far ez I know."

  "And that old bloat of a second cousin--that crimson beak--what kemdown yesterday,--he ain't bin hangin' round here today for his reg'larpizon?"

  "No," said the barkeeper thoughtfully, "I reckon Spindler's got himlocked up, and is settin' on him to keep him sober till after Christmas,and prevent you boys gettin' at him."

  "He'll have the jimjams before that," returned the first speaker; "andhow about that dead beat of a half-nephew who borrowed twenty dollars ofYuba Bill on the way down, and then wanted to get off at Shootersvilie,but Bill wouldn't let him, and scooted him down to Spindler's andcollected the money from Spindler himself afore he'd give him up?"

  "He's up thar with the rest of the menagerie," said the barkeeper, "butI reckon that Mrs. Price hez bin feedin' him up. And ye know the oldwoman--that fifty-fifth cousin by marriage--whom Joe Chandler swears heremembers ez an old cook for a Chinese restaurant in Stockton,--darn myskin ef that Mrs. Price hasn't rigged her out in some fancy duds of herown, and made her look quite decent."

  A deep groan here broke from Uncle Jim Starbuck.

  "Didn't I tell ye?" he said, turning appealingly to the others. "It'sthat darned widow that's at the bottom of it all! She first put Spindlerup to givin' the party, and now, darn my skin, ef she ain't goin to fixup these ragamuffins and drill 'em so we can't get any fun outer 'emafter all! And it's bein' a woman that's bossin' the job, and notSpindler, we've got to draw things mighty fine and not cut up too rough,or some of the boys will kick."

  "You bet," said a surly but decided voice in the crowd.

  "And," said another voice, "Mrs. Price didn't live in 'Bleeding Kansas'for nothing."

  "Wot's the programme you've settled on, Uncle Jim?" said the barkeeperlightly, to check what seemed to promise a dangerous discussion.

  "Well," said Starbuck, "we kalkilate to gather early Christmas night inHooper's Hollow and rig ourselves up Injun fashion, and then start forSpindler's with pitch-pine torches, and have a 'torchlight dance' aroundthe house; them who does the dancin' and yellin' outside takin' theirturn at goin' in and hevin' refreshment. Jake Cooledge, of Boston, sezif anybody objects to it, we've only got to say we're 'Mummers of theOlden Times,' sabe? Then, later, we'll have 'Them Sabbath Evening Bells'performed on prospectin' pans by the band. Then, at the finish, JakeCooledge is goin' to give one of his surkastic speeches,--kinderwelcomin' Spindler's family to the Free Openin' o' Spindler's Almshouseand Reformatory." He paused, possibly for that approbation which,however, did not seem to come spontaneously. "It ain't much," he addedapologetically, "for we're hampered by women; but we'll add to theprogramme ez we see how things pan out. Ye see, from what we can hear,all of Spindler's relations ain't on hand yet! We've got to wait, likein elckshun times, for 'returns from the back counties.' Hello! What'sthat?"

  It was the swish and splutter of hoofs on the road before the door. TheSacramento coach! In an instant every man was expectant, and Starbuckdarted outside on the platform. Then there was the usual greeting andbustle, the hurried ingress of thirsty passengers into the saloon, and apause. Uncle Jim returned, excitedly and pantingly. "Look yer, boys! Efthis ain't the richest thing out! They say there's two more relations o'Spindler's on the coach, come down as express freight, consigned,--d'yehear?--consigned to Spindler!"

  "Stiffs, in coffins?" suggested an eager voice.

  "I didn't get to hear more. But here they are."

  There was the sudden irruption of a laughing, curious crowd into thebar-room, led by Yuba Bill, the driver. Then the crowd parted, andout of their midst stepped two children, a boy and a girl, the oldestapparently of not more than six years, holding each other's hands. Theywere coarsely yet cleanly dressed, and with a certain uniform precisionthat suggested formal charity. But more remarkable than all, around theneck of each was a little steel chain, from which depended the regularcheck and label of the powerful Express Company, Wells; Fargo & Co., andthe words: "To Richard Spindler." "Fragile." "With great care." "Collecton delivery." Occasionally their little hands went up automatically andtouched their labels, as if to show them. They surveyed the crowd, thefloor, the gilded bar, and Yuba Bill without fear and without wonder.There was a pathetic suggestion that they were accustomed to thisobservation.

  "Now, Bobby," said Yuba Bill, leaning back against the bar, with an airhalf-paternal, half-managerial, "tell these gents how you came here."

  "By Wellth, Fargoth Expreth," lisped Bobby.

  "Whar from?"

  "Wed Hill, Owegon."

  "Red Hill, Oregon? Why, it's a thousand miles from here," said abystander.

  "I reckon," said Yuba Bill coolly, "they kem by stage to Portland, bysteamer to 'Frisco, steamer again to Stockton, and then by stage overthe whole line. Allers by Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express, from agent toagent, and from messenger to messenger. Fact! They ain't bin tetched orhandled by any one but the Kempany's agents; they ain't had a line ordirection except them checks around their necks! And they've wanted fornothin' else. Why, I've carried heaps o' treasure before, gentlemen,and once a hundred thousand dollars in greenbacks, but I never carriedanythin' that was watched and guarded as them kids! Why, the divisioninspector at Stockton wanted to go with 'em over the line; but JimBracy, the messenger, said he'd call it a reflection on himself andresign, ef they didn't give 'em to him with the other packages! Ye had apretty good time, Bobby, didn't ye? Plenty to eat and drink, eh?"

  The two children laughed a little weak laugh, turned each otherbashfully around, and then looked up shyly at Yuba Bill and said,"Yeth."

  "Do you know where you are goin'?" asked Starbuck, in a constrainedvoice.

  It was the little girl who answered quickly and eagerly:--

  "Yes, to Krissmass and Sandy Claus."

  "To what?" asked Starbuck.

  Here the boy interposed with a superior air:--

  "Thee meanth Couthin Dick. He'th got Krithmath."

  "Where's your mother?"

  "Dead."

  "And your father?"

  "In orthpittal."

  There was a laugh somewhere on the outskirts of the crowd. Every onefaced angrily in that direction, but the laugher had disappeared. YubaBill, however, sent his voice after him. "Yes, in hospital! Funny, ain'tit?--amoosin' place! Try it. Step over here, and in five minutes, by theliving Hoky, I'll qualify you for admission, and not charge you a cent!"He stopped, gave a sweeping glance of dissatisfaction around him, andthen, leaning back against the bar, beckoned to some one near the door,and said in a disgusted tone, "You tell these galoots how it happened,Bracy. They make me sick!"

  Thus appealed to, Bracy, the express messenger, stepped forward in YubaBill's place.

  "It's nothing particular, gentlemen," he said, with a laugh, "onlyit seems that some man called Spindler, who lives about here, sent aninvitation to the father of these children to bring his family to aChristmas party. It wasn't a bad sort of thing for Spindler to do,considering that they were his poor relations, though they didn't knowhim from Adam,--was it?" He paused; several of the bystanders clearedtheir throats, but said nothing. "At least," resumed Bracy, "that's whatthe boys up at Red Hill, Oregon, thought, when they heard of it. Well,as the father was in hospital with a broken leg, and the mother only afew weeks dead, the boys thought it mighty rough on these poor kids ifthey were done out of their fun because they had no one to bring them.The boys couldn't afford to go themselves, but they got a little moneytogether, and then got the idea of sendin' 'em by express. Our agent atRed Hill tumbled to the idea at once; but he wouldn't take any money inadvance, and said he would send 'em
'C. O. D.' like any other package.And he did, and here they are! That's all! And now, gentlemen, as I'vegot to deliver them personally to this Spindler, and get his receipt andtake off their checks, I reckon we must toddle. Come, Bill, help take'em up!"

  "Hold on!" said a dozen voices. A dozen hands were thrust into a dozenpockets; I grieve to say some were regretfully withdrawn empty, for itwas a hard season in Rough and Ready. But the expressman stepped beforethem, with warning, uplifted hand.

  "Not a cent, boys,--not a cent! Wells, Fargo's Express Company don'tundertake to carry bullion with those kids, at least on the samecontract!" He laughed, and then looking around him, said confidentiallyin a lower voice, which, however, was quite audible to the children,"There's as much as three bags of silver in quarter and half dollars inmy treasure box in the coach that has been poured, yes, just showeredupon them, ever since they started, and have been passed over from agentto agent and messenger to messenger,--enough to pay their passage fromhere to China! It's time to say quits now. But bet your life, they arenot going to that Christmas party poor!"

  He caught up the boy, as Yuba Bill lifted the little girl to hisshoulder, and both passed out. Then one by one the loungers in thebar-room silently and awkwardly followed, and when the barkeeper turnedback from putting away his decanters and glasses, to his astonishmentthe room was empty.

  *****

  Spindler's house, or "Spindler's Splurge," as Rough and Ready chose tocall it, stood above the settlement, on a deforested hillside, which,however, revenged itself by producing not enough vegetation to covereven the few stumps that were ineradicable. A large wooden structurein the pseudo-classic style affected by Westerners, with an incongruouscupola, it was oddly enough relieved by a still more incongruous verandaextending around its four sides, upheld by wooden Doric columns, whichwere already picturesquely covered with flowering vines and sun-lovingroses. Mr. Spindler had trusted the furnishing of its interior to thesame contractor who had upholstered the gilded bar-room of the EurekaSaloon, and who had apparently bestowed the same design and material,impartially, on each. There were gilded mirrors all over the house andchilly marble-topped tables, gilt plaster Cupids in the corners, andstuccoed lions "in the way" everywhere. The tactful hands of Mrs. Pricehad screened some of these with seasonable laurels, fir boughs, andberries, and had imparted a slight Christmas flavor to the house. Butthe greater part of her time had been employed in trying to subdue theeccentricities of Spindler's amazing relations; in tranquilizing Mrs."Aunt" Martha Spindler,--the elderly cook before alluded to,--who wasinclined to regard the gilded splendors of the house as indicativeof dangerous immorality; in restraining "Cousin" Morley Hewlettfrom considering the dining-room buffet as a bar for "intermittentrefreshment;" and in keeping the weak-minded nephew, Phinney Spindler,from shooting at bottles from the veranda, wearing his uncle's clothes,or running up an account in his uncle's name for various articles atthe general stores. Yet the unlooked-for arrival of the two children hadbeen the one great compensation and diversion for her. She wrote at onceto her nieces a brief account of her miraculous deliverance. "I thinkthese poor children dropped from the skies here to make our Christmasparty possible, to say nothing of the sympathy they have created inRough and Ready for Spindler. He is going to keep them as long ashe can, and is writing to the father. Think of the poor little totstraveling a thousand miles to 'Krissmass,' as they call it!--though theywere so well cared for by the messengers that their little bodies werepositively stuffed like quails. So, you see, dear, we will be able toget along without airing your famous idea. I'm sorry, for I know you'rejust dying to see it all."

  Whatever Kate's "idea" might have been, there certainly seemed now noneed of any extraneous aid to Mrs. Price's management. Christmas came atlast, and the dinner passed off without serious disaster. But the ordealof the reception of Rough and Ready was still to come. For Mrs. Pricewell knew that although "the boys" were more subdued, and, indeed,inclined to sympathize with their host's uncouth endeavor, there wasstill much in the aspect of Spindler's relations to excite their senseof the ludicrous.

  But here Fortune again favored the house of Spindler with a dramaticsurprise, even greater than the advent of the children had been. In thechange that had come over Rough and Ready, "the boys" had decided, outof deference to the women and children, to omit the first part of theirprogramme, and had approached and entered the house as soberly andquietly as ordinary guests. But before they had shaken hands with thehost and hostess, and seen the relations, the clatter of wheels washeard before the open door, and its lights flashed upon a carriage andpair,--an actual private carriage,--the like of which had not been seensince the governor of the State had come down to open the new ditch!Then there was a pause, the flash of the carriage lamps upon white silk,the light tread of a satin foot on the veranda and in the hall, and theentrance of a vision of loveliness! Middle-aged men and old dwellersof cities remembered their youth; younger men bethought themselves ofCinderella and the Prince! There was a thrill and a hush as this lastguest--a beautiful girl, radiant with youth and adornment--put a daintyglass to her sparkling eye and advanced familiarly, with outstretchedhand, to Dick Spindler. Mrs. Price gave a single gasp, and drew backspeechless.

  "Uncle Dick," said a laughing contralto voice, which, indeed, somewhatrecalled Mrs. Price's own, in its courageous frankness, "I am sodelighted to come, even if a little late, and so sorry that Mr. M'Kennacould not come on account of business."

  Everybody listened eagerly, but none more eagerly and surprisingly thanthe host himself. M'Kenna! The rich cousin who had never answered theinvitation! And Uncle Dick! This, then, was his divorced niece! Yet evenin his astonishment he remembered that of course no one but himself andMrs. Price knew it,--and that lady had glanced discreetly away.

  "Yes," continued the half-niece brightly. "I came from Sacramento withsome friends to Shootersville, and from thence I drove here; and thoughI must return to-night, I could not forego the pleasure of coming, ifit was only for an hour or two, to answer the invitation of the uncle Ihave not seen for years." She paused, and, raising her glasses, turned apolitely questioning eye towards Mrs. Price. "One of our relations?" shesaid smilingly to Spindler.

  "No," said Spindler, with some embarrassment, "a--a friend!"

  The half-niece extended her hand. Mrs. Price took it.

  But the fair stranger,--what she did and said were the only thingsremembered in Rough and Ready on that festive occasion; no one thoughtof the other relations; no one recalled them nor their eccentricities;Spindler himself was forgotten. People only recollected how Spindler'slovely niece lavished her smiles and courtesies on every one, andbrought to her feet particularly the misogynist Starbuck and thesarcastic Cooledge, oblivious of his previous speech; how she sat atthe piano and sang like an angel, hushing the most hilarious and excitedinto sentimental and even maudlin silence; how, graceful as a nymph, sheled with "Uncle Dick" a Virginia reel until the whole assembly joined,eager for a passing touch of her dainty hand in its changes; how, whentwo hours had passed,--all too swiftly for the guests,--they stood withbared heads and glistening eyes on the veranda to see the fairy coachwhirl the fairy princess away! How--but this incident was never known toRough and Ready.

  It happened in the sacred dressing-room, where Mrs. Price was cloakingwith her own hands the departing half-niece of Mr. Spindler. Taking thatopportunity to seize the lovely relative by the shoulders and shake herviolently, she said: "Oh, yes, and it's all very well for you, Kate, youlimb! For you're going away, and will never see Rough and Ready and poorSpindler again. But what am I to do, miss? How am I to face it out?For you know I've got to tell him at least that you're no half-niece ofhis!"

  "Have you?" said the young lady.

  "Have I?" repeated the widow impatiently. "Have I? Of course I have!What are you thinking of?"

  "I was thinking, aunty," said the girl audaciously, "that from whatI've seen and heard to-night, if I'm not his half-niece now, it's only aquestion of time! So you'd
better wait. Good-night, dear."

  And, really,--it turned out that she was right!