VI
JASPERSON'S BEST GIRL
Jasperson came to the ranch at the time of the March branding, and itwas well understood between the contracting parties--Ajax and I of thefirst part, and Jasper Jasperson of the second part, all of SanLorenzo County, in the State of California--that the said Jaspersoncame to us as a favour, and, so to speak, under protest. For he hadnever worked out before, and was possessed of money in bank and somefour hundred acres of good arable land which, he carefully explainedto us, he was unwilling to farm himself. Indeed, his appearancebespoke the man of independent means, for he wore a diamond collar-stud--his tie was always pulled carefully down so as not to interferewith this splendid gem--and two diamond rings. In Jasperson's hotyouth he had come into violent contact with a circular saw, and thesaw, as he admitted, had the best of the encounter--two fingers of hisleft hand being left in the pit. A man of character and originality,he insisted upon wearing the rings upon his maimed hand, both upon theindex finger; and once, when Ajax suggested respectfully that thediamonds would shine to better advantage upon the right hand, heretorted reasonably enough that the mutilated member "kind of neededsettin' off." He seized the opportunity to ask Ajax why we wore nojewellery, and upon my brother replying that we considered diamondsout of place upon a cattle ranch, he roundly asserted that in hisopinion a "gen'leman couldn't be too dressy."
During the first month he bought in San Lorenzo a resplendent blacksuit, and an amazing dress shirt with an ivy pattern, worked in whitesilk, meandering down and up the bosom. To oblige Ajax he tried onthese garments in our presence, and spoke hopefully of the future,which he said was sure to bring to his wardrobe another shirt andpossibly a silk hat. We took keen interest in these important matters,and assured Jasperson that it would afford us the purest pleasure tosee once more a silk hat. Then Ajax indiscreetly asked if he was aboutto commit matrimony.
"Boys," he replied, blushing, "I'd ought to be engaged, but I ain't.Don't give me away, but I ain't got no best girl--not a one.Surprisin', yes, sir, considerin' how I'm fixed--most _sur_prisin'."
He took off his beautiful coat, and wrapped it carefully in tissuepaper. We were sitting on the verandah after supper, and were wellinto our second pipes. The moonlight illumined the valley, butJasperson's small delicate face was in shadow. From the creek hard bycame the croaking of many frogs, from the cow pasture the shrilling ofthe crickets. A cool breeze from the Pacific was stirring the leavesof the willows and cottonwoods, and the wheat, now two feet high,murmured praise and thanksgiving for the late rains. When nature iseloquent, why should a mortal refrain from speech?
"Boys," continued Jasperson; "I'm a-goin' to tell ye something;because--well, because I feel like it. I've never had no best girl!""Jasperson," said Ajax, "I can't believe that. What! you, a youngand----"
"I ain't young," interrupted the man of independent means. "I'm nighon to thirty-six. Don't flim-flam me, boys. I ain't young, and I ain'tbeautiful, but fixed up I am--dressy, an' that should count."
"It does count," said my brother, emphatically. "I've seen you,Jasperson, on Sundays, when I couldn't take my eyes off you. The girlsmust be crazy."
"The girls, gen'lemen, air all right; the trouble ain't with them.It's with me. Don't laugh: it ain't no laughin' matter. Boys--I'mbashful. That's what ails Jasper Jasperson. The girls," he criedscornfully; "you bet they know a soft snap when they see it, and I ama soft snap, an' don't you forget it!
"I left my own land," he continued dreamily, in a soft, melancholyvoice, "because there ain't a lady within fifteen miles o' my barn,and here there's a village, and----"
"Her name, please," said Ajax, with authority; "you must tell us hername."
"Wal," he bent forward, and his face came out of the shadows; we couldsee that his pale blue eyes, red-rimmed and short-sighted, weresuffused with tender light, and his pendulous lower lip was a-quiverwith emotion; even the hair of his head--tow-coloured and worn _a laPompadour_--seemed to bristle with excitement, "Wal," he whispered"it's--it's Miss Birdie Dutton!"
In the silence that followed I could see Ajax pulling his moustache.Miss Birdie Dutton! Why, in the name of the Sphinx, should Jaspersonhave selected out of a dozen young ladies far more eligible MissBirdie Dutton? She was our postmistress, a tall, dark, not uncomelyvirgin of some thirty summers. But, alas! one of her eyes wasfashioned out of glass; her nose was masculine and masterful; and herchin most positive. Jasperson's chin was equally conspicuous--negatively. Miss Birdie, be it added, was a frequent contributor tothe columns of the _San Lorenzo Banner_, and Grand Secretary of alocal temperance organisation. She boarded with the Swiggarts; and Mr.Swiggart, better known as Old Smarty, told me in confidence that "shewouldn't stand no foolishness"; and he added, reflectively, that shewas something of a "bull-dozer." I knew that Old Smarty had sold hisboarder an aged and foundered bronco for fifty dollars, and thatwithin twenty-four hours the animal had been returned to him and themoney refunded to Miss Birdie. Many persons had suffered grievously atthe hands of Mr. Swiggart, but none, saving Miss Dutton, could boastof beating him in a horse-deal.
Presently I expressed surprise that Jasperson had the honour of MissDutton's unofficial acquaintance.
"I was interdooced last fall," said our friend, "at a candy-pullin' upto Mis' Swiggart's. Not that Miss Birdie was a-pullin' candy. No, sir;she ain't built that a way, but she was settin' there kind ofscornful, but smilin' An' later she an' me sung some hymns together.Mebbe, gen'lemen, ye've heard Miss Birdie sing?"
I shook my head regretfully, but Ajax spoke enthusiastically of thelady's powers as a vocalist. He had previously described her voice tome as "a full choke, warranted to kill stone-dead at sixty yards."
"It is a lovely voice," sighed Jasperson, "strong, an' full, an' rich.Why, there ain't an organ in the county can down her high B!" Then,warmed by my brother's sympathy, he fumbled in his pocket, and found asheet of note-paper. Upon this he had written a quatrain that heproposed to read to us _au clair de la lune_. The lines wereaddressed: "To My Own Blackbird."
"She's a pernounced brunette," explained the poet; "and her name isBirdie. I thought some of entitlin' the pome: 'To a Mocking Bird'; butI surmised that would sound too pussonal. She has mocked me, an'others, more'n once."
He sighed, still smarting at the memory of a gibe; then he recited thefollowing in an effective monotone:--
"Oh! scorn not the humble worm, proud bird, As you sing i' the top o' the tree; Though doomed to squirm i' the ground, unheard. He'll make a square meal for thee."
"It ain't Shakespeare," murmured the bard, "but the idee is O.K."
My brother commended the lines as lacking neither rhyme nor reason,but he questioned the propriety of alluding to a lady's appetite, andprotested strongly against the use of that abject word--worm. He toldJasperson that in comparing himself to a reptile he was slapping thecheeks of his progenitors.
"But I do feel like a worm when Miss Birdie's around," objected theman of acres. "It may be ondignified, but that there eye of hers doesmake me wiggle."
"It's a thousand pities," said I softly, "that Miss Dutton has onlyone eye."
Jasperson wouldn't agree with me. He replied, with ardour, that hewould never have dared to raise his two blue orbs to Miss Dutton'sbrilliant black one, unless he had been conscious that his mistress,like himself, had suffered mutilation.
"I'm two fingers short," he concluded, "an' she's lackin' an eye.That, gen'lemen, makes it a stand-off. Say, shall I send her this yerepome?"
"Most certainly not," said Ajax.
"Then for the Lord's sake, post me."
I touched Ajax with my foot, and coughed discreetly; for I knew mybrother's weakness. He is a spendthrift in the matter of givingadvice. If Jasperson had appealed to me, the elder and moreexperienced, I should have begged politely, but emphatically, to beexcused from interference. I hold that a man and a maid must settletheir love affairs without help from a third party. Ajax, unhappily,thinks otherwise.
"Miss Dutton," he began, tentatively, "is aware, Jasperson, of your--er--passion for her?"
"She ain't no sech a thing," said the lover.
"Yet her eye," continued Ajax, "is keen--keen and penetrating."
"It's a peach," cried the enthusiastic poet. "There ain't another likeit in the land, but it can't see in the dark; an', boys, I've notshown my hand--yet!"
"You've made no advances directly or indirectly?"
"Not a one. By golly! I--I dassn't. I jest didn't know how. I ain't upto the tricks. You air, of course; but I'm not."
My brother somewhat confusedly hastened to assure Jasperson that hisknowledge of the sex was quite elementary, and gleaned for the mostpart from a profound study of light literature.
The poet grinned derisively. "You ain't no tenderfoot," he said. "Ireckon that what you don't know about the girls ain't worth picklin'."
"Well, if you mean business," said Ajax didactically, "if nothing wecan say or do will divert your mind from courtship and matrimony--if,my dear Jasperson, you are prepared to exchange the pleasant places,the sunny slopes, and breezy freedom of bachelor life for the thornypath that leads to the altar, and thence to--er--the cradle, if, inshort, you are determined to own a best girl, why, then the first andobvious thing to do is to let her know discreetly that you're in lovewith her."
"As how?" said Jasperson, breathlessly. "I told ye that when she wasaround I felt like a worm."
"You spoke of wiggling," replied my brother; "and I suppose thatheretofore you have wiggled _from_ and not _to_ the bird.Next time, wiggle up, my boy--as close as possible."
"You're dead right," murmured the disciple; "but look at here: when Icall on Miss Birdie, she sez, 'Mister Jasperson,' or, mebbe, 'MisterJasper, please be seated, an' let me take your hat.' Naterally, boys,I take the chair she p'ints out, an' then, dog-gone it! she takes_another_."
"Do you expect this young lady to sit down in your lap, sir? Maids,Jasperson, must not be lightly put to confusion. They must be stalked,and when at bay wooed with tender words and languishing glances. Nowlisten to me. Next Sunday, when you call upon Miss Dutton, take thechair she offers, but as soon as a suitable opportunity presentsitself, ask to see the album. Thus you will cleverly betray a warminterest in her by showing a lively interest in her people. And tolook over an album two persons must----"
"You bet they must," interrupted the poet. "They must nestle up.That's right! What kind of a chump am I not to have thought of thatbefore? Yes, boys, she's got an album, a beaut', too: crimson plushan' nickel. And, of course, the pictures of her folks is inside. Bygum! I'll give the homeliest of 'em sech a send-off as----"
"You will not," said Ajax. "Remember, Jasperson, that a burning blackeye indicates jealousy, which you must beware of arousing. Don'tpraise too wantonly the beauty of Miss Dutton's sisters and cousins;but if the father is well-looking, pay your mistress the compliment ofsaying that the children of true lovers always take after the father.In turning the leaves of the album you might touch her hand, quiteaccidentally. No less an authority than Mr. Pickwick commends arespectful pressure."
"I'll do it," exclaimed Jasperson, "I'll do it, sure!"
"Has she a pretty hand?" I asked.
"Has she a pretty hand!" echoed the lover, in disdainful tones, "Shehas the hand of a queen! The Empress of Roosia ain't got a whiter nora finer hand! Miss Birdie ain't done no harder work than smackin' akid that needs it."
"I've heard," said I, "that she can smack--hard."
"An' I'd be a liar if I denied it," replied Jasperson. "Wal,gen'lemen, I'm obligated to ye. Next Sabbath I'll wade right in."
Upon the following Sunday our hero rose betimes, tubbed himself,shaved himself, perfumed his small person with bergamot, and thenarrayed it in the ivy-bosomed shirt and the $75 suit of broadcloth.His toilet occupied just two hours and seventeen minutes. Ajaxdecorated the lapel of his coat with a handsome rosebud, and then theimpatient swain tied round his neck a new white silk handkerchief,mounted his horse, and betook himself at a gallop to the villagechurch. Ajax remarked with regret that the pace was too hot at thestart, and feared that our colt would finish badly. As we walked backto the verandah, I told my brother that he had assumed a bigresponsibility; for I was convinced that Miss Dutton, albeit possessedof many admirable qualities, was not the woman to make littleJasperson either happy or comfortable. She, doubtless, being a wisebird, would greedily snap up this nice worm who had waxed fat in therichest soil. But how would the worm fare when swallowed up andabsorbed?
At five that afternoon the amorous poet rode slowly up to the corral.As he sat limply upon his sorrel horse, smiling dismally at Ajax, wecould see that the curl was out of his moustache, and out of the brimof his sombrero; upon his delicate face was inscribed failure.
"Boys," said he, throwing one leg over the horn of the saddle; "Ididn't get there. I--I mired down!"
Later, he gave us some interesting details. It transpired that he hadmet his sweetheart, after Sabbath-school, and had sat beside herduring the regular service; after church he had accepted a warminvitation from Mrs. Swiggart to join the family circle at dinner. Attable he had been privileged to supply Miss Birdie with many dainties:pickled cucumbers, cup-custards, and root beer. He told us franklythat he had marked nothing amiss with the young lady's appetite, butthat for his part he had made a sorry meal.
"My swaller," he said plaintively, "was in kinks before the boolyonwas served."
"You say," murmured Ajax, "that Miss Dutton's appetite was good?"
"It was just grand," replied the unhappy bard. "I never seen a ladyeat cup-custards with sech relish."
"We may infer, then," observed my brother, "that Miss Birdie is stillin happy ignorance of your condition; otherwise pity for you wouldsurely have tempered that craving for cup-custards."
"I dun'no', boys, about that. Me an' Miss Birdie sung out o' the samehynm book, and--and I sort o' showed down. I reckon she knows whatails Jasper Jasperson."
Ajax unwisely congratulated the lovelorn one upon this piece of news.He said that the Rubicon was now passed, and retreat impossible. Wenoted the absence of the rosebud, and Jasperson blushingly confessedthat he had presented the flower to his best girl after dinner, an actof homage--so we presumed--in recognition of the lady's contempt ofdanger in mixing pickled cucumbers with cup-custards.
"After that," said Jasperson, "I thought of the album, an' 'twas thenmy feet begun to get cold. But I up and as't to see it, as bold as acoyote in a hen-roost. Then she sez, kind of soft an' smilin': 'Why,Mister Jasper, what d'you want to see my album for? you don't know myfolks.'"
"A glorious opportunity," said Ajax. "What did you reply, my buck?"
"Dog-gone it! I'd ought to have sailed right in, but I sot there,shiverin', an' said:' Oh! because ...' jest like a school-girl. And Icould see that the answer made her squirm. She must ha' thought I wasthe awflest fool. But to save me that's all I could stammer out--'Oh,because ...'"
"Well," said Ajax, encouragingly, "the best of us may be confounded inlove and war."
"You do put heart into a man," murmured the little fellow. "Wal, sir,we sot down an' looked through the album. And on the first page wasMiss Birdie's father, the mortician and arterialist."
"The what?" we exclaimed.
"Undertaker and _em_-bammer. He's an expert, too. Why, MissBirdie was a-tellin' me--"
I ventured to interrupt him. "I don't think, Jasperson, I should likean undertaker for a father-in-law. Have you considered that point?"
"I have, gen'lemen. It might come in mighty handy. Wal, he was thehomeliest critter I ever seen. I dassn't ring in that little song an'dance you give me. And on the nex' page was Mis' Dutton." He sighedsoftly and looked upward.
"The mother," said Ajax briskly. "Now, I dare swear that she's a good-looking woman. Nature attends to such matters. Beauty often marriesthe b---- the homely man."
"Mis' Dutton," said Jasperson solemnly, "is now a-singing in theheavenly choir, an' bein' dead I can't
say nothing; but, gen'lemen,ye'll understand me when I tell ye that Miss Birdie never got her finelooks from her maw. Not on your life!"
"Doubtless," said Ajax sympathetically, "there was something in thefaces of Miss Dutton's parents that outweighed the absence of merebeauty: intelligence, intellect, character."
"The old man's forehead is kind o' lumpy," admitted Jasperson, "but Ididn't use that. I sot there, as I say, a-shiverin', an' never openedmy face. She then showed me her cousins: daisies they were and nomistake; but I minded what you said, an' when Miss Birdie as't me ifthey wasn't beauties, I sez no--not even good-lookin'; an', by golly!she got mad, an' when I tetched her hand, obedient to orders, shepulled it away as if a tarantula had stung it. After that I madetracks for the barn. I tell ye, gen'lemen, I'm not put up right forlove-makin'."
Ajax puffed at his pipe, deep in thought. I could see that he wasaffected by the miscarriage of his counsels. Presently he removed thebriar from his lips, and said abruptly: "Jasperson, you assert thatyou showed down in church. What d'you mean by that? Tell me exactlywhat passed."
The man we believed to be a laggard in love answered confusedly thathe and Miss Dutton had been singing that famous hymn, "We shall meetin the sweet By-and-by." The congregation were standing, but resumedtheir seats at the end of the hymn. Under cover of much scraping offeet and rustling of starched petticoats, Jasperson had assured hismistress that the sweet By-and-by was doubtless a very pleasant place,but that he hoped to meet her often in the immediate future. He toldus that Miss Birdie had very properly taken no notice whatsoever ofthis communication; whereupon he had repeated it, lending emphasis towhat was merely a whisper by a sly pressure of the elbow. This, too,the lady had neither approved nor resented.
Upon this Ajax assured our friend that he need not despair, and hesaid that the vexed question of the fair's appetite had been set atrest: a happy certainty was the sauce that had whetted her hunger.Jasperson listened with sparkling eyes.
"Say," said he; "if you'll help me out, I'll write a letter to MissBirdie this very night."
I frowned and expostulated in vain. Within two minutes, pens, ink andpaper were produced, and both Jasperson and my brother were hard atwork. Between them the following composition was produced. Jaspersonfurnished the manner, Ajax the matter.
"To Miss Birdie Dutton.
"Dear Friend,--Since leaving you this afternoon, _more abrupt than agentleman could wish_, I have taken up my pen to set forth thatwhich is in my heart, but which cannot leave my trembling lips. Dearfriend, there is too much _at steak_ for me to be calm in yourpresence. When I sat by your side, and gazed with you at the noblefaces of your parents, reading there, dear friend, the names of thosegreat qualities which have been inherited by you, _with queenlybeauty thrown in_, then it was that a sudden sinking inside robbedyour lover of his powers of speech. And how could I see the lovelinessof your cousins when my eyes were dwelling with rapture upon thestately form of her I trust to call my own? Be mine, dear friend, forI love you and hope to marry you, to part neither here nor in thesweet By-and-by.
"Yours respectfully,
"Jasper Jasperson.
"P.S.--_Important_. The ranch is four hundred and three acres,_paid for_. And there's money somewhere to build a niceresidence, and to furnish it according to Hoyle. We'd keep a hiredgirl.
"P.P.S.--_And a pianner_. J.J.(_A true lover_)."
This billet-doux was sealed and despatched, and in due time brought anacceptance. The engagement was formally ratified at a banquet given bythe Swiggarts, and the health of the high contracting parties wasenthusiastically drunk in pink lemonade. The marriage was arranged totake place during the summer vacation, and Pacific Grove was selectedas the best spot in California for the honeymoon.
Thus smoothly for a season ran the course of true love. But threeweeks later, when the landscape was wearing its imperial livery oflupin and eschscholtizia, when the fields at night were white withmoonflowers, when a glorious harvest was assured, and all beasts andbirds and insects were garrulous of love and love's delight--upon May-day, in short--was disclosed a terrible rift within poor Jasperson'slute.
He had escorted his sweetheart to the annual picnic, and returninglate at night found Ajax and me enjoying a modest nightcap beforeturning in. We asked him to join us, but he refused with someasperity, and upon cross-examination confessed that he had promisedMiss Button to take the pledge at the next meeting of the lodge. Now,we knew that Jasperson was the pink of sobriety, but one whoappreciated an occasional glass of beer, or even a mild cocktail; andwe had heard him more than once denounce the doctrines of theProhibitionists; so we were quite convinced that meek submission tothe dictates of the Grand Secretary of Corona Lodge was bothunnecessary and inexpedient. And we said so.
"Birdie knows I don't drink," stammered our hired man, "but she thinksI'd ought to take the pledge as an example."
"An example," echoed Ajax. "To whom? To _us?_"
"She said an example, gen'lemen, jest--an example."
"But she meant us," said Ajax sternly. "Our names were mentioned.Don't you deny it, Jasperson."
"They was," he admitted reluctantly. "She as't me, careless-like, ifyou didn't drink wine with your meals, and I said yes. I'd ought tohave said no."
"What!" cried my brother, smiting the table till the decanter andglasses reeled. "You think that you ought to have lied on our account.Jasperson--I'm ashamed of you; I tremble for your future as the slaveof Miss Dutton."
"Wal--I didn't lie," said Jasperson defiantly; "I up and told her thetruth: that you had beer for supper, and claret wine, or mebbe sherrywine, or mebbe both for dinner, and that you took a toddy when youfelt like it, an' that there was champagne down cellar, an' foreignliquors in queer bottles, an' Scotch whisky, an'--_everything_.She as't questions and I answered them--like an idiot! Gen'lemen, theshame you feel for me is discounted by the shame I feel for myself.I'd ought to have told Birdie that your affairs didn't concern her;I'd ought to have said that you was honnerable gen'lemen whom I'mproud to call my intimate friends; I'd ought to have said a thousandthings, but I sot there, and said-nothin'!"
He was standing as he spoke, emphasising his periods with semaphoricmotions of his right arm. When he had finished he sank quite overcomeupon the big divan, and covered his flushed face with a pair of smallhands. He was profoundly moved, and Ajax appeared less solidlycomplacent than usual. I reflected, not without satisfaction, that Ihad done what I could to keep Jasperson and the Grand Secretary apart.
"This is very serious," said Ajax, after a significant pause. "I--Ifeel, Jasperson, that this engagement was brought about by--me."
"It's a fact," assented our hired man. "And that's what makes me feelso mean right now. Boys, I love that woman so that I dassn't go aginher."
Ajax rose in his might and confronted the trembling figure upon thedivan. My brother's nickname was given to him at school in virtue ofhis great size and strength. Standing now above Jasperson, hisproportions seemed even larger than usual. The little dandy in hissmug black garments with his diamond stud gleaming in the ivy-bosomedshirt (his rings had been given to Miss Birdie), with his featureswilting like the wild pansies in the lapel of his coat, dwindled to anamorphous streak beneath the keen glance of my burly brother.
"Do you really love her?" said Ajax, in his deepest bass. "Or do you_fear_ her, Jasperson? Answer honestly."
The small man writhed. "I dun'no'," he faltered at last. "By golly! Idun'no'."
"Then I do know," replied my brother incisively: "you've betrayedyourself, Jasperson. You're playing the worm. D'you hear? The_worm_! I once advised you to wiggle up to the bird, now I tellyou solemnly to wiggle away, before it's too late. I've been a fool,and so have you. For the past three weeks I've had my eye on you, andI suspected that you'd fallen a victim to an ambitious andunscrupulous woman. You've lost weight, man; and you've no flesh tospare. Marry Miss Dutton, and you'll be a scarecrow within a year, andrequire the services of the mortician within two! I got you into
thisinfernal scrape, and, by Heaven I I'll get you out of it."
"But what will the neighbours say?" stammered Jasperson, sittingupright. At my brother's words his pendulous nether lip had stiffened,and now his pale blue eyes were quickening with hope and vitality. Hearranged his white satin tie, that had slipped to one side, andsmoothed nervously the nap of the broadcloth pants, while Ajax clad inrough grey flannels took a turn up and down our sitting-room.
My brother and I had lived together for many years, years of fat kineand years of lean, but I couldn't recall a single instance when he hadconsidered the opinion of Mrs. Grundy. In coming to California, to arough life on a cattle ranch, we had virtually snapped our fingersbeneath the dame's nose. I mention this because it sheds light uponwhat follows.
"The neighbours, Jasperson," replied Ajax, "will say some deucedunpleasant things. But I think I can promise you the sympathy of themen, and your ranch is fifteen miles from a petticoat."
"I dassn't break it off, gen'lemen, not by word of mouth; but--but wemight write."
"And lay yourself open to a breach of promise case and heavy damages.No--I've a better plan than that. We'll make Miss Dutton release you.She shall do the writing this time."
"Boys," said Jasperson solemnly, "she'll never do it--never! Her mindis sot on merridge. I see it all now. She hypnotised me, by golly! Iswear she did! That eye of hers is a corker."
"What night are you to be initiated?" asked Ajax, with seemingirrelevance.
"Next Toosday," replied the neophyte nervously.
"You have never, I believe, been on a spree?"
"Never, gen'lemen--never."
"They tell me," said Ajax softly, "that our village whisky, the sheep-herders' delight, will turn a pet lamb into a roaring lion."
"It's pizon," said Jasperson,--"jest pizon."
"You, Jasperson, need a violent stimulant. On Tuesday afternoon, myboy, you and I will go on a mild spree. I don't like sprees any morethan you do, but I see no other way of cutting this knot. Now, markme, not a word to Miss Dutton. It's late, so--good-night."
Between May-day and the following Tuesday but little transpired worthrecording. Miss Dutton sent the convert a bulky package of tracts,with certain scathing passages marked--obviously for our benefit--inred ink; and we learned from Alethea-Belle that the initiation ofJasper Jasperson was to be made an occasion of much rejoicing, andthat an immense attendance was expected at Corona Lodge. Thestorekeeper asked Ajax outright if there were truth in the rumour thatwe were to be decorated with the blue ribbon, and my brother hintedmysteriously that even stranger things than that might happen.Jasperson complained of insomnia, but he said several times that hewould never forget what Ajax was doing on his behalf, and I don'tthink he ever will. For my part I maintained a strict neutrality.Ethically considered, I was sensible that my brother's actions wereopen to severe criticism; at the same time, I was certain that mildmeasures would not have prevailed.
The Grand Secretary, while I was in the post-office, invited me quiteinformally to participate in the opening exercises, and to assist atthe banquet, the benediction, so to speak, of the secret rites. Shesaid that other prominent gentlemen would receive invitations, andthat she was certain the "work" would please and edify. She expressedmuch chagrin when I tendered my regret, and amazed me by affirmingthat Ajax had cordially consented to be present. This I considered anoutrageous breach of good manners upon his part: if he kept hispromise, a number of most worthy and respectable persons wouldconsider themselves insulted; so I advised Miss Birdie not to countupon him.
"I like your big brother," she said, in her hard, metallic tones; "heis such a man: he has made quite a conquest of me; for mercy's sakedon't tell him so."
I pledged myself to profound secrecy, but walking home the remembranceof an uncanny gleam in her bold black eye put to flight my misgivings.I decided that Ajax was justified in using "pizon."
Upon Tuesday afternoon I deemed it expedient to remain at the ranch-house. About five, Jasperson, arrayed in his best, accompanied Ajax tothe village. The lodge was to open its doors at 7.30; and at ten mybrother returned alone, breathless and red in the face, the bearer ofextraordinary tidings. I shall let him tell the story in his ownwords.
"The whole village," said he, "has been painted by Jasperson a lovelypigeon-blood red!" Then he sat down and laughed in the mostuncontrollable and exasperating manner.
"By Jupiter!" he gasped; "I knew that whisky was wonderful stuff, butI never believed it could turn a worm into a Malay running amok." Thenhe laughed again till the tears rolled down his cheeks.
Between the gusts and gurgles of laughter a few more details leakedout. I present them connectedly. The kind reader will understand thatallowance must be made for my brother. He is a seasoned vessel, but noman can drink our village nectar with impunity.
"Of course," he began, "I knew that, this being his last day, the boyswould ask Jasperson to celebrate. So, mindful, of your preciousreputation--I don't care a hang about my own--I kept in thebackground. Upon inquiry you'll find that it is generally concededthat I did my best to prevent what has happened. And Jasperson wasfoxey, too. He hung back, said he was going to join the lodge, andwouldn't indulge in anything stronger than Napa Soda. He had threerounds of that. Then he was persuaded by Jake Williams to try a glassof beer, and after that a bumper of strong, fruity port--the purejuice of the Californian grape. That warmed him up! At a quarter tosix he took his first drink of whisky, and then the evil spirits ofall the devils who manufacture it seemed to possess him. In less thanhalf-an-hour he was the centre of a howling crowd, and none howledlouder than he. He set up the drinks again and again. I tried to draghim away, and failed miserably. I'll be hanged if he didn't get holdof a six-shooter, and threatened to fill me with lead if I interfered.He told the boys he was going to join the lodge. That was the dominantnote. He was going to join the lodge. He had come to town on purpose.How they cheered him! Then that scoundrel Jake Williams was inspiredby Satan to ask him if he was provided with an initiation robe. And heactually persuaded Jasperson to remove his beautiful black clothes andto array himself in a Sonora blanket. Then they striped his poor whiteface with black and red paint, till he looked like an Apache.Honestly, I did my level best to quash the proceedings: I might aswell have tried to bale out the Pacific with a pitchfork. At aquarter-past seven the Swiggarts drove into Paradise, and I wish youcould have seen the Grand Secretary's face. She had no idea,naturally, that her Jasper was the artist so busily engaged indecorating the village. But she knew there was an awful row on, and Ifancy she rather gloried in her own saintliness. Presently the lodgefilled up, and I could see Miss Birdie standing on the porch lookinganxiously around for the candidate. Finally I felt so sorry for thegirl, that I made up my mind to give her a hint, so that she couldslip quietly away. She greeted me warmly, and said that she supposedMr. Jasperson was around 'somewheres,' and I said that he was. Thenshe spoke about the riot, and asked if I had seen a number of brutalcowboys abusing a poor Indian. She told me that her brothers andsisters inside the lodge were very distressed about it. And as shetalked the yells grew louder, and I was convinced that the candidatewas about to present himself. So I tried to explain the facts. But,confound it! she was so obtuse--for I couldn't blurt the truth rightout--that, before she caught on, the procession arrived. The catechumenwas seated upon an empty beer-barrel, placed upon a sort of floatdragged by the boys. They had with them a big drum, that terriblebassoon of Uncle Jake's, and a cornet; the noise was somethingterrific. Well, Miss Birdie's a good plucked one! She stood on thesteps and rebuked them. That voice of hers silenced the band. Beforeshe was through talking you might have heard a pin drop. She ratedthem for a quarter of an hour, and all the good people in the lodgecame out to listen and applaud. I was jammed up against her, andcouldn't stir. At the end she invited them to come into the lodge tosee a good man--I quote her verbatim--an upright citizen, a credit tohis country and an ornament to society, take the pledge. When shestopped, Jasperson began, in
that soft, silky voice of his. He thankedher, and said he was glad to know that he was held in such highesteem; that he cordially hoped the boys would come in, as he waspaying for the banquet, and that after supper they might expect a realsociable time!
"That's all, but it was enough for the Grand Secretary. She gave aghastly scream, and keeled over, right into my arms."
"And where," said I, "is Jasperson?"
"Jasperson," replied Ajax soberly, "is being removed in a spring-wagonto his own ranch. To-morrow he will be a very sick man, but I thinkI've got him out of his scrape."
Bunch Grass: A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch Page 8