Part 11 (1/2)
We were allowed to dress as in New York for our dinner party, given by Octavia's friend at his shack, and to see the girls and Lola, and indeed us all, looking like Paris fas.h.i.+on plates in dainty clothes and feathered hats seemed so quaint; but when we got inside it was not out of place.
Such a person of refinement he must be! The outside was made of boards like the rest, but inside it had bookcases and comfortable chairs and cosey sofas, and the nice look of a man's room who is no fool and reads books and thinks thoughts. There were several more lovely creatures whom we had not met before, altogether about eighteen the party was, and as the dining-room only held ten, naturally the rest sat on boxes, and the table was elongated with a packing case. But the fun we had! As delightful as the evening with the Squirrels; each of these pets out-doing the other in remarkable Western phrases and stories, and all with that whimsical fine sense of humour that can see the fun even in themselves. I wish I could remember the sentences, but they are too difficult, only they had not to be translated or explained; they were simply the most unusual English applied in that crisp exact fas.h.i.+on that is an art in itself, meaning _exactly_ what is necessary to present an idea. The whole entertainment was cooked for, and waited on by, a most delightful coloured lady called Ca.s.sandra, who chewed gum and joined in the conversation.
Fancy the consternation and horror of Mrs. Spleist or Mrs. Craik V.
Purdy, if either had been the hostess of such a party! They would have apologised the whole time. It was all enchanting.
”Now, Mr. Johnson,” Ca.s.sandra said (our host's name is Burke Johnson), ”why yo go for to put all de peas in dat great heap on yo plate? Didn't I tell yo to be careful? Dey won't go 'round.” And she looked like a reproving mother to a greedy boy, showing her splendid teeth in a grin.
We were so amused. But when the subjects interested her she would pause with a dish in the air and give her opinion in the friendliest way, not the least impertinently, but as some fond, privileged Nanny might at a children's party.
”Fact is, you spoil Mr. Johnson, Ca.s.sandra,” Nelson said; ”you feed him too well and keep him too snug.” Then she tossed her head, ”Mr. Johnson is my care, Mr. Nelson,” she said; ”you can talk 'bout that to some other coloured lady,” and her laugh rang out like a silver bell.
I cannot give you any idea, Mamma, of how perfectly delightful all these people are.
After dinner we played a game of poker in the sitting-room, not for high stakes, only just chaff and fun, and Tom made outrageous love to Columbia, who answered him with the cleverest parries. American girls are miles ahead of us in brilliant repartee. Then someone played the piano and we all sang songs, and from the kitchen where Ca.s.sandra was was.h.i.+ng up the dishes, came the most melodious second in that sweet perfect harmony which the negroes seem so well to understand.
Placed carelessly among some books on a table by the side of the piano were two revolvers (I must call them ”guns” here, because that is their name) and I did such a silly thing without thinking, so unaccustomed are we at home to realise anything could be loaded that was casually lying about. I picked one up and examined the tracing on the barrel, never noticing that it was pointing straight up at my head, until I felt Nelson's iron grip upon my wrist, while he took it from my hand. His face was white as death. ”My G.o.d!” he said, ”my G.o.d, quit touching that!” Then he walked quickly to the door and opened it and looked out on the night. There was no hall, the sitting-room is straight on the street. He took a great deep breath and came back again, and then he laughed, ”Guess I'm a pretty fool,” he said; ”I've had them pointed direct at me with the finger on the trigger, too, and never turned a hair, but, by the Lord, to see your flower face close to that grim thing makes me kind of sick.” It moved me deeply, Mamma; I wonder why?
The whole company walked home with us, but I clung on to the Senator's arm and let my other be held by the one with the roguish smile of the night before; and Nelson seemed to be extraordinarily gay as he strode beside Octavia, though when we said goodnight, just outside my room, his eyes were full of mist.
I don't feel the least sleepy, and I am sitting here in the rocking-chair thinking of all our trip, and the different impressions it has made, and how deeply I admire and respect this wonderful people.
As soon as they have grown out of being touchy, and rounded off their edges, they will have no equals on earth. This great vast country we have come through seems like the great vast brains of the men from here who are the real nation builders. The successful schemers and business men are remarkable, too, but these are the ones who make for splendour and glory and n.o.ble ideas. They are like strong pure air blowing away migraines; and yet the business men also are to be respected; it requires such indomitable pluck in either case, only this kind of outdoor pluck makes male creatures turn more into the things which women love.
There was one point I did not remember to tell you about in its place, and that was the rather pathetic spectacle the boys are, in numbers of families in the East,--tied to their mothers' ap.r.o.n strings, treated like girls and taken constantly to Europe with or without a tutor; little, blase grandfathers driving motor cars and dressing in grown up clothes. I longed to send them all to Eton and let them get flogged and have to f.a.g and be turned into children first, and then men. I asked the fourteen year old Spleist boy to get me down a branch of blossom far up on an apple tree, and for the world he wouldn't have rubbed his patent leather boots, even if he had known how to hold on to reach so high. All the children are old, more or less, and wearied with expensive toys and every wish gratified. Only that they are more surrounded with servants and governesses or go to school, numbers and numbers are like ”Matilda”
on the s.h.i.+p. Out here there don't seem to be any children, or hardly any, but those there are, I expect, are like everything else in the West, free and growing. But there is one quality which seems exclusively American, West or East, unbounded hospitality and kindly feeling, and ever and always I shall think of them all as dear friends.
Perhaps I shall not be able to post a letter again for some days, Mamma, but good-night now, and fond love from,
Your affectionate daughter,
ELIZABETH.
CAMP OF MOONBEAMS
NEVADA HOTEL,
CAMP OF MOONBEAMS.
DEAREST MAMMA,--When you hear of all I have to tell you you will wonder I can write so quietly. But I will make myself, and keep everything in its place, so that you get a clear picture.
We started early yesterday morning in the private car, for a junction, or terminus (I am not sure which) called Hot Creek,--everyone in the best of spirits after a send off from all our friends. Marcus Aurelius's face to welcome us on board was enough to rejuvenate anyone, simply a full moon of black and white smiles, and I am sure he is the first person Merecdes has confided her love affair to, for he seems to watch over her and Gaston like a deus ex machina.
Nelson and I sat out on the observation veranda again, and he told me many things of all this land, and how often the poor adventurers coming out West will climb on to the irons under the trains, and then cling for countless miles, chancing hideous death to be carried along; and how, sometimes, they will get lost and die of starvation. And just then, in the grimmest country of absolutely arid desert valley, between highish barren hills, we saw a beautiful lake of blue water with green trees reflected in it, and when I looked at Nelson his eyes were sad. Nothing could have seemed more cool or refres.h.i.+ng; it made one long to jump out of the train and go and bathe, for now, though still early in the spring, it is getting very hot. ”It is nothing but a mirage,” Nelson said. ”There is no water there and no trees. It comes and goes in this part of the desert according to the state of the atmosphere, and it has been the cause of many a poor fellow's end.” How treacherous, Mamma! How cruel of Nature to treat her children so! And then he put his head back and pulled his hat over his eyes.
”A mirage,” he said, like one dreaming. ”Guess it's often like life.” And then he told me of the curious effect it had had upon his imagination the first time he had seen it, when alone with his burros, prospecting; how it seemed to say to him to make a reality of green and prosperity out of the parched world, and how his thoughts always returned there when he had successes, and he dreamed of a day when he should rest a little by just such a lake. ”To rest my soul,” he said, ”if I have any; to rest it with someone I should love.”
And, as once before, the Senator broke in upon us with his cheery, charming voice, ”Guess you two are talking like high-flown poet c.o.o.ns,”
he said, ”and there is breakfast to be thought of, and happy things like that.” And then as Nelson went in front he stepped back and put his kind hand under my chin, and raised it and looked straight into my eyes.
”Little daughter,” he said, ”little friend, p'raps your heart's aching for someone over the sea, but don't make his heart ache, too, now.