Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation

by Bret Harte

  AN ESMERALDA OF ROCKY CANYON

  It is to be feared that the hero of this chronicle began life as animpostor. He was offered to the credulous and sympathetic family of aSan Francisco citizen as a lamb, who, unless bought as a playmatefor the children, would inevitably pass into the butcher's hands.A combination of refined sensibility and urban ignorance of natureprevented them from discerning certain glaring facts that betrayed hiscaprid origin. So a ribbon was duly tied round his neck, and in pleasingemulation of the legendary "Mary," he was taken to school by theconfiding children. Here, alas the fraud was discovered, and history wasreversed by his being turned out by the teacher, because he was NOT "alamb at school." Nevertheless, the kind-hearted mother of the familypersisted in retaining him, on the plea that he might yet become"useful." To her husband's feeble suggestion of "gloves," she returneda scornful negative, and spoke of the weakly infant of a neighbor, whomight later receive nourishment from this providential animal. But eventhis hope was destroyed by the eventual discovery of his sex. Nothingremained now but to accept him as an ordinary kid, and to find amusementin his accomplishments,--eating, climbing, and butting. It must beconfessed that these were of a superior quality; a capacity to eateverything from a cambric handkerchief to an election poster, anagility which brought him even to the roofs of houses, and a power ofoverturning by a single push the chubbiest child who opposed him, madehim a fearful joy to the nursery. This last quality was incautiouslydeveloped in him by a negro boy-servant, who, later, was hurriedlypropelled down a flight of stairs by his too proficient scholar.Having once tasted victory, "Billy" needed no further incitement to hisperformances. The small wagon which he sometimes consented to draw forthe benefit of the children never hindered his attempts to butt thepasser-by. On the contrary, on well-known scientific principles he addedthe impact of the bodies of the children projected over his head in hischarge, and the infelicitous pedestrian found himself not only knockedoff his legs by Billy, but bombarded by the whole nursery.

  Delightful as was this recreation to juvenile limbs, it was felt to bedangerous to the adult public. Indignant protestations were made, andas Billy could not be kept in the house, he may be said to have atlast butted himself out of that sympathetic family and into a hard andunfeeling world. One morning he broke his tether in the small back yard.For several days thereafter he displayed himself in guilty freedom onthe tops of adjacent walls and outhouses. The San Francisco suburbwhere his credulous protectors lived was still in a volcanic stateof disruption, caused by the grading of new streets through rocks andsandhills. In consequence the roofs of some houses were on the levelof the doorsteps of others, and were especially adapted to Billy'sperformances. One afternoon, to the admiring and perplexed eyes of thenursery, he was discovered standing on the apex of a neighbor's newElizabethan chimney, on a space scarcely larger than the crown of a hat,calmly surveying the world beneath him. High infantile voices appealedto him in vain; baby arms were outstretched to him in hopelessinvitation; he remained exalted and obdurate, like Milton's hero,probably by his own merit "raised to that bad eminence." Indeed, therewas already something Satanic in his budding horns and pointed mask asthe smoke curled softly around him. Then he appropriately vanished,and San Francisco knew him no more. At the same time, however, one OwenM'Ginnis, a neighboring sandhill squatter, also disappeared, leaving SanFrancisco for the southern mines, and he was said to have taken Billywith him,--for no conceivable reason except for companionship. Howbeit,it was the turning-point of Billy's career; such restraint as kindness,civilization, or even policemen had exercised upon his nature was gone.He retained, I fear, a certain wicked intelligence, picked up in SanFrancisco with the newspapers and theatrical and election posters hehad consumed. He reappeared at Rocky Canyon among the miners as anexceedingly agile chamois, with the low cunning of a satyr. That was allthat civilization had done for him!

  If Mr. M'Ginnis had fondly conceived that he would make Billy "useful,"as well as companionable, he was singularly mistaken. Horses and muleswere scarce in Rocky Canyon, and he attempted to utilize Billy by makinghim draw a small cart, laden with auriferous earth, from his claim tothe river. Billy, rapidly gaining strength, was quite equal to the task,but alas! not his inborn propensity. An incautious gesture from thefirst passing miner Billy chose to construe into the usual challenge.Lowering his head, from which his budding horns had been already prunedby his master, he instantly went for his challenger, cart and all. Againthe scientific law already pointed out prevailed. With the shock ofthe onset the entire contents of the cart arose and poured over theastonished miner, burying him from sight. In any other but a Californianmining-camp such a propensity in a draught animal would have beencondemned, on account of the damage and suffering it entailed, but inRocky Canyon it proved unprofitable to the owner from the veryamusement and interest it excited. Miners lay in wait for Billy witha "greenhorn," or new-comer, whom they would put up to challenge theanimal by some indiscreet gesture. In this way hardly a cartload of"pay-gravel" ever arrived safely at its destination, and the unfortunateM'Ginnis was compelled to withdraw Billy as a beast of burden. Itwas whispered that so great had his propensity become, under repeatedprovocation, that M'Ginnis himself was no longer safe. Going aheadof his cart one day to remove a fallen bough from the trail, Billyconstrued the act of stooping into a playful challenge from hismaster,--with the inevitable result.

  The next day M'Ginnis appeared with a wheelbarrow, but without Billy.From that day he was relegated to the rocky crags above the camp, fromwhence he was only lured occasionally by the mischievous miners, whowished to exhibit his peculiar performances. For although Billy hadample food and sustenance among the crags, he had still a civilizedlonging for posters; and whenever a circus, a concert, or a politicalmeeting was "billed" in the settlement, he was on hand while the pastewas yet fresh and succulent. In this way it was averred that heonce removed a gigantic theatre bill setting forth the charms of the"Sacramento Pet," and being caught in the act by the advance agent, waspursued through the main street, carrying the damp bill on his horns,eventually affixing it, after his own peculiar fashion, on the back ofJudge Boompointer, who was standing in front of his own court-house.

  In connection with the visits of this young lady another storyconcerning Billy survives in the legends of Rocky Canyon. ColonelStarbottle was at that time passing through the settlement on electionbusiness, and it was part of his chivalrous admiration for the sex topay a visit to the pretty actress. The single waiting-room of the littlehotel gave upon the veranda, which was also level with the street. Aftera brief yet gallant interview, in which he oratorically expressedthe gratitude of the settlement with old-fashioned Southern courtesy,Colonel Starbottle lifted the chubby little hand of the "Pet" to hislips, and, with a low bow, backed out upon the veranda. But the Pet wasastounded by his instant reappearance, and by his apparently castinghimself passionately and hurriedly at her feet! It is needless to saythat he was followed closely by Billy, who from the street had casuallynoticed him, and construed his novel exit into an ungentlemanlychallenge.

  Billy's visits, however, became less frequent, and as Rocky Canyonunderwent the changes incidental to mining settlements, he was presentlyforgotten in the invasion of a few Southwestern families, and theadoption of amusements less practical and turbulent than he hadafforded. It was alleged that he was still seen in the more secludedfastnesses of the mountains, having reverted to a wild state, and it wassuggested by one or two of the more adventurous that he might yet becomeedible, and a fair object of chase. A traveler through the Upper Pass ofthe canyon related how he had seen a savage-looking, hairy animal likea small elk perched upon inaccessible rocks, but always out of gunshot.But these and other legends were set at naught and overthrown by anunexpected incident.

  The Pioneer Coach was toiling up the long grade towards Skinners Passwhen Yuba Bill suddenly pulled up, with his feet on the brake.

  "Jimminy!" he ejaculated, drawing a deep breath.

  The startled
passenger beside him on the box followed the direction ofhis eyes. Through an opening in the wayside pines he could see, a fewhundred yards away, a cuplike hollow in the hillside of the vividestgreen. In the centre a young girl of fifteen or sixteen was dancing andkeeping step to the castanet "click" of a pair of "bones," such as negrominstrels use, held in her hands above her head. But, more singularstill, a few paces before her a large goat, with its neck roughlywreathed with flowers and vines, was taking ungainly bounds and leapsin imitation of its companion. The wild background of the Sierras, thepastoral hollow, the incongruousness of the figures, and the vivid colorof the girl's red flannel petticoat showing beneath her calico skirt,that had been pinned around her waist, made a striking picture, whichby this time had attracted all eyes. Perhaps the dancing of the girlsuggested a negro "break-down" rather than any known sylvan measure; butall this, and even the clatter of the bones, was made gracious by thedistance.

  "Esmeralda! by the living Harry!" shouted the excited passenger on thebox.

  Yuba Bill took his feet off the brake, and turned a look of deep scornupon his companion as he gathered the reins again.

  "It's that blanked goat, outer Rocky Canyon beyond, and Polly Harkness!How did she ever come to take up with HIM?"

  Nevertheless, as soon as the coach reached Rocky Canyon, the story wasquickly told by the passengers, corroborated by Yuba Bill, and highlycolored by the observer on the box-seat. Harkness was known to be anew-comer who lived with his wife and only daughter on the other side ofSkinners Pass. He was a "logger" and charcoal-burner, who had eaten hisway into the serried ranks of pines below the pass, and established inthese efforts an almost insurmountable cordon of fallen trees, strippedbark, and charcoal pits around the clearing where his rude loghut stood,--which kept his seclusion unbroken. He was said to be ahalf-savage mountaineer from Georgia, in whose rude fastnesses he haddistilled unlawful whiskey, and that his tastes and habits unfitted himfor civilization. His wife chewed and smoked; he was believed to make afiery brew of his own from acorns and pine nuts; he seldom came to RockyCanyon except for provisions; his logs were slipped down a "shoot" orslide to the river, where they voyaged once a month to a distant mill,but HE did not accompany them. The daughter, seldom seen at RockyCanyon, was a half-grown girl, brown as autumn fern, wild-eyed,disheveled, in a homespun skirt, sunbonnet, and boy's brogans. Such werethe plain facts which skeptical Rocky Canyon opposed to the passengers'legends. Nevertheless, some of the younger miners found it not out oftheir way to go over Skinners Pass on the journey to the river, but withwhat success was not told. It was said, however, that a celebrated NewYork artist, making a tour of California, was on the coach one day goingthrough the pass, and preserved the memory of what he saw there in awell-known picture entitled "Dancing Nymph and Satyr," said by competentcritics to be "replete with the study of Greek life." This did notaffect Rocky Canyon, where the study of mythology was presumablydisplaced by an experience of more wonderful flesh-and-blood people, butlater it was remembered with some significance.

  Among the improvements already noted, a zinc and wooden chapel had beenerected in the main street, where a certain popular revivalist preacherof a peculiar Southwestern sect regularly held exhortatory services. Hisrude emotional power over his ignorant fellow-sectarians was well known,while curiosity drew others. His effect upon the females of his flockwas hysterical and sensational. Women prematurely aged by frontierdrudgery and child-bearing, girls who had known only the rigors andpains of a half-equipped, ill-nourished youth in their battling with thehard realities of nature around them, all found a strange fascination inthe extravagant glories and privileges of the unseen world he picturedto them, which they might have found in the fairy tales and nurserylegends of civilized children, had they known them. Personally he wasnot attractive; his thin pointed face, and bushy hair rising oneither side of his square forehead in two rounded knots, and his long,straggling, wiry beard dropping from a strong neck and shoulders,were indeed of a common Southwestern type; yet in him they suggestedsomething more. This was voiced by a miner who attended his firstservice, and as the Reverend Mr. Withholder rose in the pulpit, theformer was heard to audibly ejaculate, "Dod blasted!--if it ain'tBilly!" But when on the following Sunday, to everybody's astonishment,Polly Harkness, in a new white muslin frock and broad-brimmed Leghornhat, appeared before the church door with the real Billy, and exchangedconversation with the preacher, the likeness was appalling.

  I grieve to say that the goat was at once christened by Rocky Canyon as"The Reverend Billy," and the minister himself was Billy's "brother."More than that, when an attempt was made by outsiders, duringthe service, to inveigle the tethered goat into his old buttingperformances, and he took not the least notice of their insults andchallenges, the epithet "blanked hypocrite" was added to his title.

  Had he really reformed? Had his pastoral life with his nymph-likemistress completely cured him of his pugnacious propensity, or hadhe simply found it was inconsistent with his dancing, and seriouslyinterfered with his "fancy steps"? Had he found tracts and hymn-bookswere as edible as theatre posters? These were questions that Rockycanyon discussed lightly, although there was always the more seriousmystery of the relations of the Reverend Mr. Withholder, Polly Harkness,and the goat towards each other. The appearance of Polly at church wasno doubt due to the minister's active canvass of the districts. But hadhe ever heard of Polly's dancing with the goat? And where in this plain,angular, badly dressed Polly was hidden that beautiful vision of thedancing nymph which had enthralled so many? And when had Billy evergiven any suggestion of his Terpsichorean abilities--before or since?Were there any "points" of the kind to be discerned in him now? None!Was it not more probable that the Reverend Mr. Withholder had himselfbeen dancing with Polly, and been mistaken for the goat? Passengers whocould have been so deceived with regard to Polly's beauty might have aseasily mistaken the minister for Billy. About this time another incidentoccurred which increased the mystery.

  The only male in the settlement who apparently dissented from thepopular opinion regarding Polly was a new-comer, Jack Filgee. Whilediscrediting her performance with the goat,--which he had neverseen,--he was evidently greatly prepossessed with the girl herself.Unfortunately, he was equally addicted to drinking, and as he wasexceedingly shy and timid when sober, and quite unpresentable at othertimes, his wooing, if it could be so called, progressed but slowly.Yet when he found that Polly went to church, he listened so far to theexhortations of the Reverend Mr. Withholder as to promise to cometo "Bible class" immediately after the Sunday service. It was a hotafternoon, and Jack, who had kept sober for two days, incautiouslyfortified himself for the ordeal by taking a drink before arriving. Hewas nervously early, and immediately took a seat in the empty churchnear the open door. The quiet of the building, the drowsy buzzing offlies, and perhaps the soporific effect of the liquor caused his eyesto close and his head to fall forward on his breast repeatedly. Hewas recovering himself for the fourth time when he suddenly received aviolent cuff on the ear, and was knocked backward off the bench on whichhe was sitting. That was all he knew.

  He picked himself up with a certain dignity, partly new to him, andpartly the result of his condition, and staggered, somewhat bruised anddisheveled, to the nearest saloon. Here a few frequenters who hadseen him pass, who knew his errand and the devotion to Polly which hadinduced it, exhibited a natural concern.

  "How's things down at the gospel shop?" said one. "Look as ef you'd beenwrastlin' with the Sperit, Jack!"

  "Old man must hev exhorted pow'ful," said another, glancing at hisdisordered Sunday attire.

  "Ain't be'n hevin' a row with Polly? I'm told she slings an awful left."

  Jack, instead of replying, poured out a dram of whiskey, drank it,and putting down his glass, leaned heavily against the counter as hesurveyed his questioners with a sorrow chastened by reproachful dignity.

  "I'm a stranger here, gentlemen," he said slowly "ye've known me only alittle; but ez ye've seen me both bl
ind drunk and sober, I reckon ye'vecaught on to my gin'ral gait! Now I wanter put it to you, ez fair-mindedmen, ef you ever saw me strike a parson?"

  "No," said a chorus of sympathetic voices. The barkeeper, however, witha swift recollection of Polly and the Reverend Withholder, and somepossible contingent jealousy in Jack, added prudently, "Not yet."

  The chorus instantly added reflectively, "Well, no not yet."

  "Did ye ever," continued Jack solemnly, "know me to cuss, sass,bully-rag, or say anything agin parsons, or the church?"

  "No," said the crowd, overthrowing prudence in curiosity, "ye neverdid,--we swear it! And now, what's up?"

  "I ain't what you call 'a member in good standin','" he went on,artistically protracting his climax. "I ain't be'n convicted o' sin;I ain't 'a meek an' lowly follower;' I ain't be'n exactly what I orterbe'n; I hevn't lived anywhere up to my lights; but is thet a reason whya parson should strike me?"

  "Why? What? When did he? Who did?" asked the eager crowd, with onevoice.

  Jack then painfully related how he had been invited by the ReverendMr. Withholder to attend the Bible class. How he had arrived early,and found the church empty. How he had taken a seat near the door tobe handy when the parson came. How he just felt "kinder kam and good,"listenin' to the flies buzzing, and must have fallen asleep,--only hepulled himself up every time,--though, after all, it warn't no crime tofall asleep in an empty church! How "all of a suddent" the parson camein, "give him a clip side o' the head," and knocked him off the bench,and left him there!

  "But what did he SAY?" queried the crowd.

  "Nuthin'. Afore I could get up, he got away."

  "Are you sure it was him?" they asked. "You know you SAY you wasasleep."

  "Am I sure?" repeated Jack scornfully. "Don't I know thet face andbeard? Didn't I feel it hangin' over me?"

  "What are you going to do about it?" continued the crowd eagerly.

  "Wait till he comes out--and you'll see," said Jack, with dignity.

  This was enough for the crowd; they gathered excitedly at the door,where Jack was already standing, looking towards the church. The momentsdragged slowly; it might be a long meeting. Suddenly the church dooropened and a figure appeared, looking up and down the street. Jackcolored--he recognized Polly--and stepped out into the road. The crowddelicately, but somewhat disappointedly, drew back in the saloon. Theydid not care to interfere in THAT sort of thing.

  Polly saw him, and came hurriedly towards him. She was holding somethingin her hand.

  "I picked this up on the church floor," she said shyly, "so I reckonedyou HAD be'n there,--though the parson said you hadn't,--and I justexcused myself and ran out to give it ye. It's yourn, ain't it?"She held up a gold specimen pin, which he had put on in honor of theoccasion. "I had a harder time, though, to git this yer,--it's yourntoo,--for Billy was laying down in the yard, back o' the church, andjust comf'bly swallerin' it."

  "Who?" said Jack quickly.

  "Billy,--my goat."

  Jack drew a long breath, and glanced back at the saloon. "Ye ain't goin'back to class now, are ye?" he said hurriedly. "Ef you ain't, I'll--I'llsee ye home."

  "I don't mind," said Polly demurely, "if it ain't takin' ye outer y'urway."

  Jack offered his arm, and hurrying past the saloon, the happy pair weresoon on the road to Skinners Pass.

  Jack did not, I regret to say, confess his blunder, but left theReverend Mr. Withholder to remain under suspicion of having committed anunprovoked assault and battery. It was characteristic of Rocky Canyon,however, that this suspicion, far from injuring his clerical reputation,incited a respect that had been hitherto denied him. A man who couldhit out straight from the shoulder had, in the language of the critics,"suthin' in him." Oddly enough, the crowd that had at first sympathizedwith Jack now began to admit provocations. His subsequent silence, adisposition when questioned on the subject to smile inanely, and, later,when insidiously asked if he had ever seen Polly dancing with the goat,his bursting into uproarious laughter completely turned the current ofopinion against him. The public mind, however, soon became engrossed bya more interesting incident.

  The Reverend Mr. Withholder had organized a series of Biblical tableauxat Skinnerstown for the benefit of his church. Illustrations were to begiven of "Rebecca at the Well," "The Finding of Moses," "Joseph andhis Brethren;" but Rocky Canyon was more particularly excited by theannouncement that Polly Harkness would personate "Jephthah's Daughter."On the evening of the performance, however, it was found that thistableau had been withdrawn and another substituted, for reasons notgiven. Rocky Canyon, naturally indignant at this omission to representnative talent, indulged in a hundred wild surmises. But it was generallybelieved that Jack Filgee's revengeful animosity to the Reverend Mr.Withholder was at the bottom of it. Jack, as usual, smiled inanely, butnothing was to be got from him. It was not until a few days later, whenanother incident crowned the climax of these mysteries, that a fulldisclosure came from his lips.

  One morning a flaming poster was displayed at Rocky Canyon, with acharming picture of the "Sacramento Pet" in the briefest of skirts,disporting with a tambourine before a goat garlanded with flowers, whobore, however, an undoubted likeness to Billy. The text in enormousletters, and bristling with points of admiration, stated that the "Pet"would appear as "Esmeralda," assisted by a performing goat, especiallytrained by the gifted actress. The goat would dance, play cards, andperform those tricks of magic familiar to the readers of Victor Hugo'sbeautiful story of the "Hunchback of Notre Dame," and finally knockdown and overthrow the designing seducer, Captain Phoebus. The marvelousspectacle would be produced under the patronage of the Hon. ColonelStarbottle and the Mayor of Skinnerstown.

  As all Rocky Canyon gathered open-mouthed around the poster, Jackdemurely joined the group. Every eye was turned upon him.

  "It don't look as if yer Polly was in THIS show, any more than shewas in the tablows," said one, trying to conceal his curiosity under aslight sneer. "She don't seem to be doin' any dancin'!"

  "She never DID any dancin'," said Jack, with a smile.

  "Never DID! Then what was all these yarns about her dancin' up at thepass?"

  "It was the Sacramento Pet who did all the dancin'; Polly only LENTthe goat. Ye see, the Pet kinder took a shine to Billy arter he bowledStarbottle over thet day at the hotel, and she thought she might teachhim tricks. So she DID, doing all her teachin' and stage-rehearsin' upthere at the pass, so's to be outer sight, and keep this thing dark. Shebribed Polly to lend her the goat and keep her secret, and Polly neverlet on a word to anybody but me."

  "Then it was the Pet that Yuba Bill saw dancin' from the coach?"

  "Yes."

  "And that yer artist from New York painted as an 'Imp and Satire'?"

  "Yes."

  "Then that's how Polly didn't show up in them tablows at Skinnerstown?It was Withholder who kinder smelt a rat, eh? and found out it was onlya theayter gal all along that did the dancin'?"

  "Well, you see," said Jack, with affected hesitation, "thet's anotheryarn. I don't know mebbe ez I oughter tell it. Et ain't got anythingto do with this advertisement o' the Pet, and might be rough on old manWithholder! Ye mustn't ask me, boys."

  But there was that in his eye, and above all in this lazyprocrastination of the true humorist when he is approaching his climax,which rendered the crowd clamorous and unappeasable. They WOULD have thestory!

  Seeing which, Jack leaned back against a rock with great gravity, puthis hands in his pockets, looked discontentedly at the ground, andbegan: "You see, boys, old Parson Withholder had heard all these yarnsabout Polly and thet trick-goat, and he kinder reckoned that she mightdo for some one of his tablows. So he axed her if she'd mind standin'with the goat and a tambourine for Jephthah's Daughter, at about thetime when old Jeph comes home, sailin' in and vowin' he'll kill thefirst thing he sees,--jest as it is in the Bible story. Well, Pollydidn't like to say it wasn't HER that performed with the goat, but thePet, for thet would give the Pet dead awa
y; so Polly agrees to come tharwith the goat and rehearse the tablow. Well, Polly's thar, a littleshy; and Billy,--you bet HE'S all there, and ready for the fun; but thedarned fool who plays Jephthah ain't worth shucks, and when HE comesin he does nothin' but grin at Polly and seem skeert at the goat. Thismakes old Withholder jest wild, and at last he goes on the platformhisself to show them how the thing oughter be done. So he comes bustlin'and prancin' in, and ketches sight o' Polly dancin' in with the goat towelcome him; and then he clasps his hands--so--and drops on his knees,and hangs down his head--so--and sez, 'Me chyld! me vow! Oh,heavens!' But jest then Billy--who's gettin' rather tired o' all thisfoolishness--kinder slues round on his hind legs, and ketches sight o'the parson!" Jack paused a moment, and thrusting his hands still deeperin his pockets, said lazily, "I don't know if you fellers have noticedhow much old Withholder looks like Billy?"

  There was a rapid and impatient chorus of "Yes! yes!" and "Go on!"

  "Well," continued Jack, "when Billy sees Withholder kneelin' tharwith his head down, he gives a kind o' joyous leap and claps his hoofstogether, ez much ez to say, 'I'm on in this scene,' drops his own head,and jest lights out for the parson!"

  "And butts him clean through the side scenes into the street,"interrupted a delighted auditor.

  But Jack's face never changed. "Ye think so?" he said gravely. "Butthet's jest whar ye slip up; and thet's jest whar Billy slipped up!" headded slowly. "Mebbe ye've noticed, too, thet the parson's built kindersolid about the head and shoulders. It mought hev be'n thet, or thetBilly didn't get a fair start, but thet goat went down on his fore legslike a shot, and the parson gave one heave, and jest scooted him off theplatform! Then the parson reckoned thet this yer 'tablow' had betterbe left out, as thar didn't seem to be any other man who could playJephthah, and it wasn't dignified for HIM to take the part. But theparson allowed thet it might be a great moral lesson to Billy!"

  And it WAS, for from that moment Billy never attempted to butt again.He performed with great docility later on in the Pet's engagement atSkinnerstown; he played a distinguished role throughout the provinces;he had had the advantages of Art from "the Pet," and of Simplicity fromPolly, but only Rocky Canyon knew that his real education had come withhis first rehearsal with the Reverend Mr. Withholder.