The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 18, 1898, Page 25

THE SAN FRKANCISUUO CALL, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1S98. Medlarks th nd & butcher, anc mer, he had 1 e'h ot he; his can d call What ings. baby adlar I got 'em all did borr don’t you git so n or his heels'll jest He stopped in his ing the wagon wit child and place h She was a fair. with her T d gol were crow se he the ¢ chicks comfortabl Ambrose glorifi ST pever impatient w To tell the truth- “Law he! Yed Medlark wa, with him since; straying under the snow did once. 1ed by s, and not what the his annual pair of shoes out of his own x he could save went ze an oil cloth table cover little red rocking chai fur ter spend on him autiful being on ea ed by a red toboggan had spent his stock- eged ter keep “Me an’ maw’s ruggider .ech, in his courage and aptness with guns and ho “Reckon he don’t gu broken fingers to a p ough his tears of pain, “an' ve kin set it e affected by the child's b 3 but this morning his patience f knew all about Christmas, and Ambrose, the oldest boy, 1 veterinary surgeon), and, early in the k that he would “git the chimbly in ' The season was late in De- ith and Medl ’ to it 1 a blac romised Mr now Santa ( < it fair to 1 a candy were candy negro aun- very well y red face never nd talked in a a little money by yvears the'lad had suit of clothes and a wagon for C! settled, slick,” Am- dolla Honey, igh that hoss' feet. spatter out on ye!" occupation of load- h cotton to lift the rv that ar curls blown about her eves as blue as thought that she rth. ng to the settlement proud brother: and at hi ed and that his thin, d above his coarse copper-toed shoes on ' the little Ambre an’ kin stan’ £, F . ed in his fathe ile talent, in his fluent, braggart ve s; which, truly enough, ith her. Ambrc mother- father. t words, whiie he grinned e considered. he owed those rful hard he kin Ambr hid 1t even from h jon random blow idn’t go to do it, paw,” wer hou - had never been so harsh led at the sight of Pearl and cuffed his ears be- r in a box among the cotton. “Looks like you ' ter kill the little chick,” was his surly parting word. “Ye don’t 'pear to keer fur nuthin’ nur nary, 'cept havin’ you' time an’ you' kill ’er some day with you' keerless ways. The tears started under Ambrose’s evelids, but he wink- oKk Ambr ild tend beast’s hoofs. He s fore he placed the e Maalark Elowestil after (he hoy. abd i vaconany, ChUOTED off bodily st least s0ithe pibthers any. A slouching yet athletic shape was lounging on the Gonairea tenm of horee andiox, xRy salinr:w‘d‘(nu‘("::fq:iflzll"t “Baby's good; baby ain’t mean,” she added. But Ambrose hardly heard rivdr bank when they approached. Much amazed, Am- @own the hollow. %% .the plalntive little tones, he was s0.absorbed in his daring scheme. He drove proge greeted hfs father.. Medlark wore, Miss Carroll Presently the ox’s horns and the hors next came Ambrose’s little figure; first one angle in the air, then the other. “Ef the erying!” snarled Medlark. He walked back to the house, kicking the frozen earth with his heels and grumbling to himself. Usually he was gay, open-tempered and sanguine; but to-day he felt himself aggrieved. Every year he invested what money he could spare in lotteries, and always $5 went to the Louisiana lot- tery. Nobody knew of it, because for years he walked six miles to another postoffice to send his letters containing the money. No one can calculate how much money comes out of lean pocketbooks in the South for lotteries. The negroes would sell their skins, if they could, to buy chances. “Laws, boss!" a negro said to one moralist; “I don’t call $3 high fur a year's hopin’!” head emerged; elbow made an little fool ain’t “Ambrose sprang altzr her. and he swaggered about, gloating over his secret fine fortune. Half his dis- taste for work was due to his craving to sit and sun himself and plan what ke would do with his money. He was going to buy a farm and machinery and how superior to the selfish people about him. So his vain imaginations went =0 it could not be traced. When he wrote to agent replied that no money and no such but what could he do? He had no It was not registere ing for the ticket the Medlark had been los the agent lefter had been received. oo clothes were not right; but when she explained that she would only take the pleture to his knees, above where the big patch was, he consented; and putting kis left hand on his sister’s shoulder, he spread the right close to his side, stood v who was Santa Claus. But that is a secret which the elders ride about on the fastest horse of the county, and wear a starched shirt every very straight, and glared sternly into the lens. “Now, don’t ye wink nur always keep; and Ambros told Clay, who was eight, nor Pearl, @ay, with a diamond In his cravat. He was very liberal in his dreams. His move, sis,” said he, “till Miss Carroll tells ye, an’ I'll give ye my pretty gourd— bl mly believed Santa Claus lived in the sky where Wife should have a black girl to help her, and he would glve Ambrose a gun, quit now!” But Pearl squirmed and-wanted to turn her head. e s ite 1id to come down the chimney just as 20d the baby the most splendid doll that could be bought. He was munificent “Pearl, ye got ter keep still, an’ quit you' meanness!” whispered Ambrose the sn ; to all his humble friends: and this made him feel what a good fellow he was, in anger; he was desperate lest the picture should be spoiled. “Ef ye don't, ye won't git drawed!” Tt edlark chimney neec mending in spite of all Mrs. Medlark and on from r to vear, working mischief underground. ‘“‘Baby don’ wanter be drawed,” said the intractable Pearl; “baby wants yrose could do with mud, \d stones. Dr. Thomas Jefferson Med- Tt car—this very week, in fact—he had received a dreadful blow. The t' ride in the waggin.” Ambrose's father, had been a iver (Just as he had been a carpenter letter that he sent to the lotte nt, consequently the money for his ticket, Ambrose was at his wit's end; he thought of the childish dread of the camera and, I am sorry to s “Ef ye don’t be good, the black tr The threat served its purpos he whispered fiercely in the little ear: 11 git ye e. Poor Pearl smothered her sobs and stared Pe soon's eve oun’ to | Sk ; mor was no time to earn an 1z before the drawing. No use, either, with a most wretched expression at the three-legged monster. In LI 20 Mediark had not “come ragun’ > to the chimney. to apply to Medlark (though he knew very well that she had more than was all over, and Miss Garroll St et st hbors said that T Thomas Jefferson .\M!m'k was as triflin’ as he $6 hoarded in an old stocking and buried under the fireplace), because she was Ambrose bashfully offered to “tote” it for her to the ferryboat. Medlark was “stirrin’,” and Ambrose was prejudiced again: tteries >sult of her uncie’s experience, who had The ferry was an old raft-like craft unprotected by guards of any kind. T in spite of Thomas Jefferson’s dis- Spent $115 in two vears in tickets and never had received a cent’s worth back. Miss Cartoll was busy with her camera, focusing a midriver view; that is had risen out of the condition of ‘“movers’ Mrs. Medlark used to say | v things about them. But she had no sense, how she came to lay the plateholder on the wagon, where it was a great pleasure into “re and owr N a herd of cows and innumerable fowls, 2D¥how, in the doctor She would cry and say that it was for the tc Pearl, who carcfully removed the top slide. All wite an’ pitty!” cried Pearl It was Nealarkc o told the childfen @bout' Cheikmas; She. managed cllldren; whenishe wes just savingtit to,buycaiiyOks ofioxen — Haduitighe "Miss Carroll's exclamation of horror struck cold to Ambrose’s heart. Nl ark o heer for dinner, and always ook them to the Made it all out of his chickens, too? Medlark was consumed with a sense of - ain’t no picter on this one,” he ventured to plead; “it’s plumb white!” SR L D house. What & wonderful tree Was that, ‘to Srievance. “Yes, it's ruined,” said Miss Carroll, and if ever in his life Ambrose wanted children who hard 1 candy twice to slap baby sister, it was then. “Luck- a vea A whole beaut red or green ily the other is left. T'll develop it, di- or yellow tarlatan bag, overflowing rectly. After you have unloaded your with and one gift, at least, be- cotton come over to the house, and if e . the negative isn’t good we must try again.” You may be sure Ambrose lost no time in getting back to the big house. He was greeted at the kitchen door by Aunt Caledonia, the cook. “Ye seekin’ Miss Dora? Wall, I doan’ reckon ye kin see 'er. Miss Dora, is ye in de dark room?"” A voice came back: “Wait a minute, « Callie; don’t let anybody in.” he in de dark room,” said Caledo- nia solemnly. “Ye all better be gwine.” Ambrose only shuffied his feet and held stopped smiling, and why it sometimes L e e Pearl’s hand tightly. B then abruptly seemed to get straight; It’s a picter, he \enturfid, She’s and he kn he wore a sealskin done drawed Pearl’s picter. 3 is' and a_buffalo Caledonia scowled. “Looks like dis yvere hull settlement low t’ git Miss Dora draw dar picters fur nuthin’,” she S etout th Cittsitor remarked sarcastically. nt friends being in to “T ain’t gwine have Pear] drawed fur the schoolhouse. He, too, bought Christ- nothing’,” said Ambrose, trying to pro- mas nreser Like most Arkansas pitiate. gwine fotch ’er a big pail 1 scaly-bark hick'ry nuts. Will I fotch ye one, tew?” “Do hush, the critter!” shouted the unappeased Caledonia, in her deepest notes of scorn. “Scaly-bark hick’ry nuts! Boy, we all is wallerin’ in scaly- nas hoard. One proud s bought his father a bark hick'ry nuts a'ready!” This year Mr. Francis Poor Ambrose was dumb. “Trackin’ up my clean flo’ wid you’ hick’ry nuts!”—the stream of Caledo- nia’s wrath flowed on with swelling turbulence—*“looks like de hull settle- ment ben comin’ see Miss Dora dis mawnin’, an’ mud shoe-deep, too! De truck dey fotch 'er—mistletoe an’ ber- ought complacent ar Christmas, “ont ries, an’ sich fool t’ings nobuddy want must git suthin’ more for paw. Ain't —an’ a-messin’ an’ a-gummin’ an’ a- it tew bad T done spent all my mon wantin’ o’ deir picters drawed! Git out an' come t'morrer, if ye want you’ picter. I tell ye hit sho' not be done t'day, nohow.” Ambrose slunk away abashed, all his visions of Christmas glories like broken soap bubbles. Nevertheless, he returned to the set- tlement with Pearl the day before river bank. Though it was December there was a genial warmth in the air “Ain’t it pretty, s?" said Ambrose. My word, that’s Migs Carroll!” He could have shouted for joy, because at the sight of Miss Carroll there flushrx-(l over him a scheme for obtaining the most beautiful Christmas gift for his fatk Miss Carroll’s graceful figure was poised with a little backward bend before a camera, and her head was hidden under a black velvet focusing cloth. She waved her hand at the children to get out of the way. "Or I'll take you,” she cried. “Where'll she take we uns? “She won't take us anyv-here, the black cloth an’ it takes folkses. “Good little children, tew?” said Pearl, at once associating a camera with bears and wild hogs and the “black man,” who carry “mean"” little Arkansas “Most's pretty’s the Christmas tree. asked Pearl, anxiously. " answered Ambrose; “it's that ar trick with the wagon nearer Miss Carroll, until he could speak to her. Pearl began to whimper. “Baby 'faid! Bud hold baby!™ He was in a great haste, but he put his arms about her in the box. clung to him, and instantly began to smile. “Miss Carroll,” said Ambrose, with his heart in his mouth, “does ye want me ter fotch up a pail of scaly-bark hick'ry nuts?” “*Yes, thank you,” sald Miss Carroll. “They—they ain’t fur a present, exzackly,” sald Ambrose, very red and miserable; “I want ye to do suthin’ fur me fur 'em. Kin—kin ye draw folkses good iz trees an’' haouses, ma'am “Do you want me to ‘draw you,” Ambrose?" “Naw, ma'am. Pearl there—fur a Christmas gift to paw.” sparkling with eagerness. “Well, I have taken one photograph,” said Miss Carroll kindly. ‘But never mind; you shall have one taken your own way. Get Pearl out and stand up.” Ambrose knew what it was to have “his picter drawed,” and he pulled out th: folds of Pearl'sifrock and brushed her hair with his hand and crossed her hands stiffly in front of her, precisely as he remembered his mother's having She His eyes were They ¢ ud hear his high, sweet, childish voice, ‘Hold up, Honey, Bud's a coming.'” Christmas. His father had been kind to him in the interval; affectionate as usnal to Pearl, and more than usually industrious. Ambrose admired his mighty strokes with the ax. He fol- Jowed him about like a dog seeking to with him, and she wore her best frock fl(v plaided voollen stuff nearly covered help him. ith a white ron; and her yellow “I'd really like to give Ambrose a right nice Christmas gift,” thought Medlark. “Fact is, in justice t' the children, I’d orter have that money. T'll save some o't out fur them.” Ambrose longed day and night for his picture, and at last, the day before Christmas, he determined to make one more appeal to Miss Carroll. Scaly-bark hickories beine so de. spised he had cast about in his mind for a more acceptable offering, and finally hit upon a ‘possum, which he felt sure would be pleasing to the dragon who the weather.” 4 guarded the studio—that is, Aunt Callie, his oL he were rugged his looks gave the lie to his strength. r, in spite of When did the wicked device first slip into his mind? 1 dare say he did not Night after night did he go out hunting with some men of the neighborhood, S ) lads of td are often taller; and he vorn by hard know himself; all the morning it had been there, pricking his thoughts, an until his services were considered valuable enough to be rewarded with a ‘\"‘ :k_ until his sharp little elbows and shoulder blades I ready to prick ugly, nagging thing, like a thorn in his shoe. *“I wouldn't do her so mean ’possum. through his thin clof Yet his face kept a childisk and beauty in fur anything on ieclared stoutly, when the temptation first ap- The next day he took Pearl (because Mrs. Medlark was washing and pre- iegiaann, air and tru s; though peared. Then: * no more than right, snoopin’ raoun’ and paring for Christmas), packed her in the rude wagon which his father had !.1~ TOWH had a x nd dete mouth hidin’ money husband!” And then—alas for Thomas Jef- made for her, and trudged away to the store. How ablaze it was with galety was {oo firm. cotton basket to empty it see that ferson Medl who had always been an honest man!—then, he began to and festive preparation! The glass cases were littered with picture books. lhl-gr_zm};rs‘i‘r one hand were crooked. Really, they had b . and were think of ways to steal the money Innumerable red wagons and dolls hung from a rope stretched across the f"'ytrh:’ '-h; ,r”v[‘m surgeon so unskillfully that they wers orry sight. Bu No wonder Ambrose found his father irritable that morning! Meanwhile, shelves. There were new hats and bonnets and piles of beautiful, ready-made 4 il ay AS o St - nbrose; he was proud of “paw’s the sweet-tempered boy was already finding excuses for the man. “I had orter clothes, and cups and saucers with “Love the giver,” o *“To a good boy, T“:l‘ 5 Lhe Bis ofieys vthing that the worthless fellow did, been more keerful-like,” he thought, penitently. He jes natchelly got skeered ‘“To a good girl,”” on them, and splendid gilt jewelry—a dazzling display! e Mrs 1ad bred her children in the firm faith that their father was up, an' folks allers it ill when they're skeered. Waal, I wisht I got suthin’ store was full, too; everybody, black and white, laughing and joking. But & wonderful man, ‘wht sional “misery in the back” and “hurtin’ in the pjcer fur him Christmas!" 5 the only person that Ambrose saw in all the crowd was Miss Carroll. Before leaderet il e him from making a shining It was not very long before they emerged from the thick woods along the he couid get his ragged cap off, much less offer his 'possum, she held out a package to him saying, in her sweet, kind voice: “Why, Ambrose! I was going to send this to you.” 5 X > { ; T and the moist e Aaiae AT et S D e onsiderable. It did not disturh the boy's blind hero-worship that his ']k‘ :rr-:';v) :\'n‘.lvlrl(x:]x "h'l.‘m?.,:,’\“ \I\‘n‘y'.‘.(\‘ Iy;r,;yr:f[ h:g;a“a‘r\;;s 5“1;‘}.‘;9;;;5& ‘i‘xf'ihtel “Let him see the negative first,” said«Mr. Francis.. who was looking at a fLHhr)“ d a v\]vm‘n'( temper and would have gusts of unre ming fury, lik vast and somber cvpress forests. Over the rivi -Ia& the “m‘e settlement., The little glass pane. [‘There you are, boy.” All Ambrose's Southern politeness a negro's, In which he %as as Jikely as not to beal his children cruelly, When jow white houses, the dull-gray mill, from which came. an incessant busz of barely availed to stifie a groan of dismay.: Truly enough, there were the ox e b roRe nd say, as in eX- iline machinery, and the brighter tints of Mrs, Carroll's house had no relief 2nd the horse, the wagon and the children, the hills and river, but what an 'nt enjure nothin’ this mornin’! He does o e of green fol now that even the water oak boughs were bare. But there awful change had come to the faces? : s AImDIY. HoaEc thelbIONE. AT ror s em " . was a sober richness about the landscape with its morning shadows—the sun Little Pearl laughed aloud. “Pitty niggers!” cried the baby gleefully. father's way if the iatter seemed “ill"—the ck out of his burning on the whitish-brown stalks of the cotton fields, the purple hues of “You hush!” admonished Ambrose; but he added, in apology, “we uns et ed. “Pore pa reckon he. caynt help { thought. “Rin't i T 1= yhe willows in the foreground, the pink shades in the blur of distant ~um trees, faces is kinder black.” D L b hiv e e i hought.. “Rin't it mussis {hrouph Svhich ‘the more trunks showed like chalk lines, the splashes of “I forgot,” said Miss Carroll, “you don’t know that what is white in the O e oy i T ey i e R ey ereen holly or mistletoe among the dark tracery apainst the blue sky, and the negative becomes black in the print, and thé other way, too. You will like the It was true; the baby carried the key of her father's heart and he was .y v.like glitter of rowan berries makine their 0wn brfilliant effect in évery pool. print better. These are yours, Ambrose—one for your father, one for your mother, one for you. Look at them.” Miss Carroll had taken great pains, and at a time when she had little Jeisure, but she felt repaid by the look of speechless ecstasy that stole over Ambrose's face. He thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful. They were, indeed, admirable prints, toned to a rich brown, and the lens had caught the children’s faces in their moment of abandon with charming fidelity. “Lucky it was the stiff one that was destroyed and not the other,” said Miss Carroll. *“Well, Ambrose, will you carry my camera to the river for me?” “I never kin thank you, ma’'am,” said Ambrose. He walked along by her side, holding the legs of the camera with an awful sense of responsibility. He had sent all his other presents away to the schoolhouse, but the photographs he would not allow to go out of his sight, or rather, out of his feelings, for he carried them carefully in his hands. There were reasons why he should not trust them to his pockets. thought, rather a hang-dog look. He explained that he had been to the store and was now on his way up-country to sell a few turkeys. As vouching for his words the tur- keys cackled and fluttered under his hand. Nevertheless, Miss Carroll suspected the fowls to be' no better than a pretext, and that his real errand would take him to a cer- tain distillery in the hills. But she wronged him; for Dr. Medlark was going to no worse place than the Postoffice. Yet she did not-altozether wrong him, since, pinned under his flannel shirt was a letter to the lottery agent contain- ing $5 of Mrs. Medlark's hard savings. “Come on in, if you’' goin',” called the ferryman roughly to Medlark. He was a hard-working, prosperous man, who had small regard for the doctor. Medlark scowled and strode after the others. Meanwhile, no sooner had Pearl scrambled out of the wagon than she straightway began to be “mean.” Ambrose tried to control her, un- til Medlark, awekening out of a gloomy kind of The visions of wealth which Medlark bought with his Jottery tickets were real fascination. No Sooner i ine done, when they went to the photograph boat, Clay and he, six years ago. el o e o AT magic slip of pasteboard come to him than his fancy be- Will she do, naow?” said he. And Miss Carroll had not the heart to change s came intoxicated. Every year he grew more sure of winning, anything, she merely told him to come into the picture also. He said that hit Continued on Page Thirty-two.