by O. Henry
“Huh!” snorted one of the listeners, “much good that wealth does a feller; you can’t buy a drink with that.”
“You are mistaken, my friend. It does you the greatest good in the world, and I will prove it to you; and, furthermore, it will purchase for you all the drinks you desire. Will you hear?”
“Fire away “
PART II.
“When I was a lad, I was puny, sickly, and in consequence was barred from the joy of companions and play.
My parents were too occupied with their great responsibilities — my father amassing wealth and my mother keeping her place as the leader of society — to give any special attention to the offspring who only upset the routine of the household by illness at inopportune times, and so the care was relegated to hirelings — who were paid for their time and gave accordingly only the efforts of their hands, with no thought that they possessed a heart.
I was kept out of doors constantly, and my only companion was the mother of Dakta. We grew up together, and it was the exercise given me from very joy and ecstacy — together with the love and devotion, which I felt for the first time, and realized did exist — which restored me gradually to health.
Next I became acquainted with selfishness and cruelty, for my playmate — having added to the joy of the world, five beautiful downy bits of life — was taken away from me, for she brought a good price with four of her children. Money was of more importance than love. Dakta, here, was left behind, however, for the stableman, for he had looked after her mother.
It was from the stableman that I received my first lesson as to the wealth which was to be obtained.
He was an ugly, brutal looking man, dirty and unkempt most of the time, but to me he was a very god, for each day he came to the wicket of the fence, with Dakta in his arms, and with a smile which was like a beam of sunshine, he would say, “Hey! little master, here she is,” and with that he would put Dakta through the wicket.
Each day ever since she has been with me, sharing joy and sorrow and teaching me with infinite patience and love the great lessons of life — Faithfulness, Gratitude, Cleanliness, Godliness and Work.
For ten years she has been steadfast and her love unchanged, although I have led her through the mire many times, and hunger and cold have been her portions.”
Here he put his hand upon the dog and turned its face upward, and, looking into its eyes, said:
“But never lack of love, old girl! Never that!”
The dog kept its eyes upon him as he spoke, and the men were silent as it gave a little whimpering answer and licked the man’s hand.
Turning once more to his circle of listeners, the man continued his story:
“I have called you Dakta’s comrades for she selected you, and her judgment is unerring in regard to those who have wealth.”
Here he smiled, and in a whimsical tone said:
“She is an aristocrat, and traces her family many generations, and therefore shuns those who do not belong to her class. For we have mingled with each and every class — having been the invited guests of multimillionaires, pampered social leaders, and sat at the table of all of the rulers of the world. We have dwelt in hovels, slept in the desert, and wandered forsaken and alone along the highways.
lonight our pilgrimage ends, for we have won the fight and I am once more in possession of my soul.”
The music of his voice had stilled all the warring elements within each man, and they scarcely breathed for fear of losing that which they felt had entered and warmed them. There was no need for the gin and whisky, which had kept the blood heated, for there was a glow from the eyes of both man and dog which made them warmer than they had ever been.
Putting his hand on the dog’s head, he said:
“Attention. Dakta! It is time to choose.”
Immediately the dog was on its haunches, ears erect, nose quivering and eyes going from man to man.
“I have called you Dakta’s comrades, but you are mine as well — for ‘Lo! the stranger was at your gates and you took him in and bathed and fed him.’
We need helpers, and Dakta shall choose. After she has selected each one for his particular office, we will discuss the work to be done. I will tell you in advance, however, that you will receive greater payment for your services than you have ever had before.”
The men were as graven images.
Then came the command:
“Leader! Dakta!”
With a dignity which was inspiring, Dakta walked around each man, looking, first, intently into each face and then sniffing. Having made the rounds, she walked to the most besotted looking, and putting her paws on his knee, looked up into his face and whined, meanwhile waving in triumph the flag of her tail.
The man at whose knee she stood put out a trembling and hesitating hand, whereupon Dakta crave a little yelp of pleasure, and kissed it, At this the entire attitude of the man changed, and he sat erect, where before his body had slouched, and his head went up until the carriage of the body was that of a ruler, and he arose from his chair and, with eyes alight, followed Dakta to the right hand of the man and seated himself on the floor beside him.
Again came the command:
“Treasurer! Dakta!”
Once more the dog made its rounds, stopping finally in front of a man who had kept his eyes upon the ground. He stirred uneasily at the touch of Dakta’s paws upon his knee, and made a movement as if he would push her away. At that she gave a little cry and jumped into the lap of the man and commenced to lick his face.
The man made no move for a moment, and then suddenly clasped her in both arms and hid his face in her neck.
“Well chosen, Dakta!” said her master.
“Come, comrade, and sit at my left.”
The man rose, still holding Dakta close to his heart, but his head raised high and his eyes straight ahead — and took his place at the left, upon the floor.
Again came the command:
“The Mender! Dakta!”
Wriggling out of the arms of the man who held her, she once more made her rounds, this time stopping before Steve, and whining as if in recognition.
Steve looked down into the animal’s face and said:
“Hell! What are you?”
At this Dakta leaped about him in ecstacy and tugged at his coat, until Steve put out his brawny hand and caressed her head.
Once again came the voice of her master:
“Well selected. Let him sit in front of me, Dakta.”
And dragging Steve by the coat, she brought him in front of her master, who put out his hand and said: “Welcome, Brother.” As the man’s hand touched his, a smile went over the face of Steve and glorified it, and he silently took his place as indicated.
Once more rang out a command: “The Light Bearer! Bring the Light Bearer, Dakta.”
This time Dakta made a flying leap into the lap of Pete, and dog and man gazed into each other’s eyes. Then, as Dakta sprang to the floor, Pete followed her where she led him, to her master, who held out both hands and said:
“My Brother!” And Pete passed around and placed his back next to that of the man. A final command rang out:
“Select the brothers of each!” And Dakta made her rounds, bringing two to sit next to the Treasurer, two next to the Leader, two next to the Mender, and two next to the Light Bearer, coming herself to curl up at her master’s feet.
His eyes traveled over the men seated about him, now all with their heads erect and smiles upon their faces, and joy radiating from them all.
In a voice sweeter than any music, he said:
“Hell becomes Heaven when there is Harmonv!
Is it not so, Brothers?”
THE SENSES
SEEING: —
From my nest on shore I gaze across the sea to a tiny speck of white which appears on the horizon — a fluttering sail.
Suddenly, a swiftly darting thing of gray — a puff of smoke —
I strain my eyes in vain, but nowhere can be
seen a fluttering sail of white or the darting thing of gray.
Only the ever-moving sea, gleaming with light!
FEELING: —
What tragedy has been enacted?
How many souls have silently bid adieu to the sunshine and the sea?
To what home is the news carried?
How many hearts are made to suffer?
How many homes bereft?
TASTING: —
I sit and gaze from my nest on land, but only a wall of gray can I distinguish.
Suddenly upon my lips a taste of salt!
Can it be that I, too, have been submerged and the waters of the sea caress my lips?
Alas! no! for the gray wall fades away and before my eyes is a sunlit sea with nothing in sight and upon my lips only my tears.
HEARING: —
From out my nest I gaze upon the sea. Gray it is, from leaden sky.
A deadly silence — then the tramp of myriad feet.
Suddenly the stillness is shattered by a volley and the last honors of the land are given to my all!!
TOUCHING; —
From outside my nest I gaze upon the sea.
My hands clasp only the leaves of many flowers and dampened earth, when leaden sky is reft and the tears of the angels of heaven fall upon my head in understanding, — and are added to the sea!
From out my nest I gaze across the sea.
A sunlit, sparkling sea
A gleaming dancing sea —
“All joy! all hope! be thine,”
It seems to say,
“For life has just begun.”
FANCIES
Birds go seeking
Mates,
All on a day made gay.
“Trees are blooming,
Branches waiting, —
Will you come?”
Shy the answer —
Swift surrender —
Roundelays are heard.
Time is flying,
Summer coming,
When the families
Say farewell.
In a pasture green
Fair flowers bloom;
Gay their faces —
Bright their dresses.
Swiftly seeking,
Whirling, wheeling,
Comes a flock
At noon.
“Here are daisies,
Sweetest grasses,
Buttercups and clover,
Let us linger, sip and treasure.”
Summer passes,
Grasses perish,
But in sweetness
Is Springtime cherished.
Daylight passes,
Night approaches,
Lights begin to gleam.
In the houses
One can fancy
Nestlings tucked to rest.
Good night, sea,
Good night world,
All my soul goes out
To thee.
Happy meeting,
Friendly greeting
Upon the milky way,
TRUSTING
Upon the ocean wide
Two little ships set sail.
Over an ocean blue
Two little birds sailed true.
Kneeling upon a nursery floor
Two little children fair.
Under a star-lit sky
A youth and a maiden, shy.
With sightless eyes and folded hands,
Old age murmurs, “
God knows best.”
Faith — trust — love — courage! That is all — God does the rest.
THOUGHTS
Thinking, thinking, thinking,
As the needle travels to and fro
Through sheerest linen — finest lace-
Weaving patterns — all unseen,
Upon its face.
Pictures vivid, pictures dim,
Pictures gay and with sadness grim,
Tiny feet — clinging hands —
All are in the fabric’s sheen.
Unseen tracery takes its place,
To weave again its mystic theme.
THINKING
The only value of thinking
Is thinking of things worth while,
Of thinking of what you want to be,
And thinking of things to do
For the folks — who know not the value
Of thinking of things worth while.
All that you are, or will be,
Is vested in thinking,
And it’s the thoughts worth while,
And the deeds well planned,
Which build your mansion here — and there,
So what are you thinking now — there?
Oh! the hours we spend,
And the days we spend,
In thinking no thoughts at all —
For the only thoughts — which really count —
Are the thoughts of love sent out to all,
For they are the thoughts worth while.
YESTERDAY-TODAY
A Fantasy in Three Parts
PART I. — YESTERDAY
LITTLE wisps of clouds I meet as I wander by the sea, — fragile as lacy petticoats that imprison the form. Useless they seem to be, but as I watch I think I see a form. Multiplying, I mistake seeming for fact, and revel in the vision they recall.
Cloudless skies — dazzling sunshine — heavy scent of flowers, and floating upon the breast of the jeweled sea, a barge — gay with silken draperies, flowers and the music of many blades cleaving the waves.
Upon a golden couch lies a softly clad nymph. Sapphire are her eyes, alabaster her arms, coral tinges her mouth and pearls gleam, as the sun warms and bathes her in its rays.
So motionless she lies that one might think it a magical statue carven by a master hand — only, in the eyes gleams a force which keeps at regular beats the play of the blades and sends the craft to the port desired.
Supporting herself on one arm, she raises high the other and points to a gleaming palace by the water’s edge, and wTith a quicker rhythm the barge sweeps over the water and reaches the landing.
It is a palace of dreams which appears to be holding within its walls the design of Aspiration.
Alighting from the barge, the nymph seems to float through the air, so lightly does she glide over the earth, and enters the palace.
In the entrance hall she hesitates and looks — from the left, where Music beckons, to the right, where Art smiles, and then stands and gazes at a closed door. It is simple in design and quite plain and ordinary compared to the rest of the palace, but unlike all the other doors, which stand open, this is tightly closed. On looking closer, over the portal can be seen in infinitesimal letters, the words Knowledge, Wisdom, Power.
In front of this door sits a figure wrapped in flowing garments. Hesitatingly, the nymph approaches, and addresses the figure in accents which are full of sweetness and yet are throbbing with will and determination.
“I would enter. Open the door for me.”
“By what right do you issue that command?” asks the custodian.
“The right of Desire. Is that not sufficient?”
“Nay! not here. The other rooms may be entered and dwelt in by that alone, but this opens its doors only to aspiration for Qualities, for it is that knowledge only which can be gained within.”
“Qualities! What are they? I tell you I will enter! You may sit there forever, if you will, but I shall pass you.”
“Gladly will I stand aside for you when you are able to give me the pass-word which unlocks the door,” replied its keeper.
“And where shall I purchase that word? No price is beyond me.”
“There is no price. It is just a little word. Seek it diligently and you will find.”
With a gesture of disdain the nymph swept past and entered the rooms, first to the left and then to the right, and then coming again to the closed door, seated herself and said:
“I WILL enter! No matter how long I must remain. What is the use of this palac
e to me, if that room is closed? I will have none of it! I command you to open the door.”
But the figure remained motionless, and finally, wearying of the silence, the nymph approached and touched the sleeve of the garment — but, alas! it gave no response, for it was stone.
PART II. — TODAY
Lying within the embrace of many pillows was a woman, her eyes fixed upon the sea, which rolled and tumbled below her making a very symphony of sound.
Her eyes travelled slowly to the horizon, then back to the book which lay upon her lap. Picking it up she commenced to read:
“Lying within each and every soul is the seed which contains the memory of all past achievements, all past desires, like a pure crystal which reflects all within its surface. Just as the crystal will reflect blurred pictures when it is marred by ill usage, so this seed fails to give the perfect flower of knowledge when it has met with neglect To give it warmth will bring to view all its possibilities, all its loveliness.
“Make a search for that seed within you which contains all memories. Review each and every event by pouring upon it the sunshine of understanding and searching. Look within and “Know Thyself.”
At this the woman put down her book and once again her gaze wandered to the horizon and within her eyes came a gleam — gazing intently — without movement.
One watching her would have said she saw something upon that sea, which stretched before her.
With a swift movement she slips from her pillows, and with wide open eyes, exclaims:
“The door — the same one of my dreams.”
Entranced, she remains motionless until a sudden gust of wind picks up her book and flings it at her feet.
Stooping, she picks it up, and then, as her eyes scan the page, there is a sudden tenseness of the body, as she reads: —