CHAPTER SIX
A REMINISCENCE
I pity the man who has never slept out doors in the Rocky Mountains.Swingin' around with the earth, away up there in the starlight, hefills himself full o' new life with every breath; and no matter howtough the day has been, he is bound to wake up the next mornin' plumbrested, and with strength and energy fair dancin' through his veins.For it to be perfect, a feller has to have a pipe, a fire, and someone close and chummy to chat with. This night me an' the Friar bothwent down to the crick and washed our feet. We sat on a log side byside and made noises like a flock of bewildered geese when we firststuck our feet into the icy water; but by the time we had raced backand crawled into his bed, we were glowin' all over.
We didn't cover up right away, because the Friar just simply couldn'tseem to get sleepy that night; and after a minute he put some morewood on the fire, filled his pipe again, and said: "So you want me totell you about my story, huh? Well, I believe I will tell you about myboyhood."
So I filled my pipe, and we lay half under the tarp with our heads onour hands and our elbows on our boots, which were waitin' to bepillows, and he told me about the early days, talkin' more to himselfthan to me.
"My mother died when I was six years old, my father divided his timebetween cleanin' out saloons, beatin' me, an' livin' in thework-house," began the Friar, and it give me kind of a shock. I'd hada notion that such-like kids wasn't likely to grow up into preachers;and I'd allus supposed 'at the Friar had had a soft, gentle youth. "Iwas a tough, sturdy urchin," he went on, "but I allus had a soft heartfor animals. I used to fight several times a day; but mostly becausethe other kids used to stone cats and tie tin cans on dogs' tails. Iused to shine shoes, pass papers, run errands, and do any other oddjob for a few pennies, and at night I slept wherever I could. I had abig dry-goods-box all to myself for several months, once, and I stilllook back to it as being a fine, comfortable bedroom.
"One morning I was down at the Union Depot when a farmer drove up abig Norman hoss hitched to a surrey. Some o' the other kids joshedhim, called the hoss an elephant and asked where the rest o' the showwas. The man was big, well fed, and comfortable lookin', same as thehoss, and he didn't pay any heed to the kids except to call one of 'emup to hold the hoss while he went into the depot. The kid wanted toknow first what he was goin' to be paid, and he haggled so long 'atthe farmer beckoned to me to come up. 'Will you hold my hoss for me afew minutes?' he asked.
"That big gray hoss with the dark, gentle eyes seemed to me one of themost beautiful things I had ever seen, and I was mighty anxious tohave charge of him, even for a few minutes; so I sez, 'You bet Iwill.'
"The other kids roasted me and made all manner o' sport; but they knewI would fight 'em if they got too superfluous, so after a bit theywent on about their business. The's somethin' about man's love for ahoss that's a little hard to understand. I had never had no intimatedealin's with one before, yet somethin' inside me reached out andentwined itself all about this big, gray, velvet-nosed beauty left inmy charge. I reckon it must be in a man's blood; that's the onlyexplanation I can find. All the way back along the trail o' history wefind the bones of men and hosses bleachin' together in the same heap;and about every worthwhile spot on the face o' nature has been foughtover on hossback, so it's small wonder if the feel of a hoss has gotto be part of man's nature.
"The farmer had had a woman and a little girl in his care, to see offon the train, and he was gone some time. I had a few pennies in mypocket, and I bought an apple an' fed it to the hoss, gettin' moreenjoyment out of it than out of airy other apple I'd ever owned. I canfeel right now the strange movin's inside my breast as his moist nosesniffed at my fingers and his delicate lips picked up the bits ofapple, as careful an' gentle as though my rough, dirty little hand hadbeen made o' crystal.
"I was so interested in the hoss that I gave a start of surprise whenthe farmer's voice behind me sez: 'You seem to like hosses, son.'
"'I hadn't no idee 'at a great big one like this could be so smoothan' gentle,' I said, with my hand rubbin' along the hoss's throat. 'Ithink he's a wonder.'
"'Do you like other animals?' asked the farmer.
"'I reckon I must be an animal myself,' sez I, 'because I allus getalong well with them, while I have to fight a lot with humans.'
"'What do you want for tendin' to this hoss?' he asked me.
"'I don't want nothin',' sez I. 'We've got to be friends, an' I don'tcharge nothin' for doin' favors for a friend. Besides, he's got somuch sense, I doubt if he needs much watchin'.'
"The farmer grinned, looked into my eyes a long time, and gave me adollar. 'Now tell me how you'll spend your dollar,' sez he.
"Well, I was purty well floored. I had never owned a dollar before inmy whole life, my father havin' taken away every cent he had everfound on me; and I stood lookin' at the coin, and hardly knowin' whatto do. The farmer stood lookin' down at me with his eyes twinklin',and after a minute, I handed the dollar back to him. 'This is toomuch,' I sez. 'A dime would be plenty for the job, even if I didn'tlike the hoss; but if my old man would find a dollar on me, he'd giveme a beatin' for hidin' it from him, take it away, get drunk, and thengive me another beatin' for not havin' another dollar.'
"So he asked me all about my father; and I told about him and about mymother bein' dead, and the twinkle left his eyes and they grew moist,so 'at he had to wink mighty fast.
"He told me that his own boy was dead and his girl married, and thatthe' wasn't any children out at the big farm, and asked me if Iwouldn't like to come and live with him. He told me about all thehosses an' the cows an' the pigs, an' that I could have a clean littleroom to sleep in, an' plenty o' food and clothes, and could go toschool. It sounded like a fairy tale to me, and I sez, 'Aw go on,you're just joshin' me'; but he meant it; so I got on the seat besidehim, and as soon as we got out o' town he let me drive the big grayhoss--and I entered into a real world more wonderful than any fairytale ever was.
"When we drove up the shady lane and into the big barn lot, a littleold lady with sad eyes came to the door, and sez: 'Now, John, who isthat with you?' and my heart sank, for I thought she wasn't goin' tostand for me; but he took me by the hand and led me up to the door,put his arm about the little woman's shoulder, and sez with a tremblein his voice: 'This here is a little feller I've brought out to becompany for ya, mother. He hasn't any folks, and he is fond ofanimals, and, and--his name is John, too.'
"At first she shook her head and shut her lips tight; but all of asudden the tears came to her eyes, and she put her arms about me--andI had found a real home.
"Those were wonderful years, Happy, wonderful; and I have thesatisfaction o' knowin' that I did them about as much good as they didme. Their hearts had been wrapped up in the boy, and he must have beena fine feller; but just when he had been promoted out o' the grammargrade at the head of his class, he had took the scarlet fever an'died. I wasn't used to kindness when I went there; so I never noticed'at they kept me out o' the inner circle o' their hearts at first. Icalled the little woman Mrs. Carmichael for some time; but one dayafter I'd brought home a good report from school, I called her this,and she spoke to me sharp--I never knew any soft-hearted person in theworld who got so much solid satisfaction out of actin' cross as shedid. Well, she spoke to me sharp, and sez: 'John Carmichael, why don'tyou call me Mother?'
"I looked into her face, and it didn't look old any longer, and thesad look had left her eyes, and they were black and snappy an' full o'life; so I tried it; and we both broke into tears, but they were tearso' joy; and then he insisted that I call him Dad, and we became afamily; and about the happiest one in the world, I reckon.
"I rode the hosses bareback, shot hawks with my rifle, picked berries,did a lot o' chores, and worked hard with my books. It was a full,round life with lots of love and happiness in it, and I grew, body andmind and spirit, as free and natural as the big oak trees in the woodspasture.
"Mr. Carmichael had looked up my blood father and had done what h
ecould for him; but it was no use, and one winter's morning he wasfound frozen in an alley. I didn't learn of it until the next Junewhen he took me down to the city cemetery where my father and motherlay side by side. I did feel downcast as we all do in the presence ofdeath; but it wasn't my real father and mother who were lyin' therebeneath the quiet mounds. Fatherhood and motherhood are somethin' morethan mere physical processes. The real fathers and mothers are thosewho put the best part o' their lives into makin' the big, gloomy worldinto a tender home for _all_ the little ones; and after my visitto the graveyard I felt drawn even closer to Dad and Mother than I hadbefore.
"Children ought to have dogs and hosses and plenty of air and soilabout 'em, Happy. We don't learn from preachin', we learn fromexample; and we can learn a heap from the animals. We talk about oursanitary systems; but we allus mean the sanitary systems outside ourbodies. Now, the animals have sanitary systems, but they are insidetheir own skins, where they rightly belong. Look at the beautifulteeth of a dog--These come from eatin' proper food at the proper timeand in proper quantities. If a dog isn't hungry, the dog won't eat. Ifa child isn't hungry, it is fed candy in a lot o' cases, and this isdownright wicked. Of course the animals find it hard to live, crowdedup the way man allus fixes things; but as a rule animals are temperateand clean, patient and honest, wise and strong; and I wish we'd use'em more as instructors for the young. Most mothers think a dog'stongue is dirty--Why, a dog's tongue is chemically clean, and healin'in its action; while the human mouth is generally poisonous--ask adentist.
"And a cow's breath, after she has rolled in with sweetly solemndignity from the clover field--Ah, that's a pleasant memory! I'llventure to say 'at mighty few monarchs have been as worthy o' bein'kissed before breakfast, as Nebukaneezer was while he was undergoin'punishment for his sins. I had gone to that farm with my soul allstunted and gnarly; but it straightened out and shot its little stemsup toward the blue, the same as the stalks o' corn did.
"All I had as a start was a love of animals; and this is why I allustry to find the one soft spot in a man's nature--Even if it's a secretvice, it is something to work on. This is what makes such a problem ofTyrrel Jones. I can't find out a single soft place in him; but I'mgoin' to get into the heart of him yet, if I can find the way.
"Well, Dad and Mother passed away within a week of each other a shorttime after I had been graduated. I had made up my mind to stay on thefarm with 'em as long as they stayed; although all sorts of voiceswere callin' to me from the big outer world; but their daughter livedin the city, and had been weaned away from the farm, so she sold it,and I started on my pilgrimage.
"They had left me an income of three hundred and fifty dollars a year;and I determined to go to college. When I thought of how rich and fullmy own life had been made, after its stunted beginning, I wanted to doall I could to make the whole earth like that farm had been, and itseemed to me that the best way was to become a priest of the Lord. Itried my best; but I have been consid'able of a failure, Happy. Now, Ihardly know where I stand. I am sort of an outcast now, and just doingwhat seems best on my own hook.
"A lot of my ideals have been lost, a lot of my hopes have faded, alot of my work has seemed like sweeping back the waves of the sea; butfor all I have lost, new things have taken their place, and I havenever lost my faith in the Lord. Now, I am weak in doctrine and astranger to dogma; and the things for which I fight with all my souland heart and strength, are kindliness and decency.
"As long as one bein' in the world is cold or hungry or diseased,every other bein' is liable to become hungry and cold and diseased.What I am fighting for is a world without poverty. Most o' the ills oflife spring from poverty, and poverty is the result of selfishness andgreed. The earth is reeking with riches, but its bounty is not dividedfairly.
"Happy, if I could only hold up the Lord, so that all men might seethe beauty and fullness of Him, the glory and grandeur of His simplelife and His majestic self-sacrifice, the fleeting cheapness ofmaterial things would sink to their real value, and we would allbecome one great family, workin' together in peace and contentment.Now, go on to sleep."
It was purty late by this time sure enough, and I fell asleep soonafter this; but I awakened durin' the night and found myself alone. Itwas cold when I stuck my nose out from under the tarp, but it was awonderful night, clear and still, with the stars swingin' big andbright just above my reach.
As I lay there, I heard Friar Tuck singin' softly to himself out wherethe trail dipped down into the valley:
"The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet: I do not ask to see The distant scene,--one step enough for me."
I had never heard his voice so wonderfully beautiful before; but, mystars, the sadness of it made me choke! It wasn't just a song, it wasa cry; and I knew that it came from a lonely, bleedin' heart. I put myhead under the covers again, puzzlin' over what was on his mind; butfirst thing I knew I was awakened by the glad voice of the old FriarTuck, singin' his favorite mornin' hymn: "Brightest and best of thesons of the morning"; so I cooked breakfast, and he went his way, andI went mine.
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