ADELAIDE STAYS AT HOME WITH HER FATHER.
Mr. Bombs did not go to Chicago alone nor as soon as he intended. He
planned to go at the first breaking out of the Centennial, which was to be
on the day when Chicago was exactly one hundred years old. The city was
expected to be in an unusual state of ferment from the beginning; and many
things were going to be done to herald the coming glory of the Jubilee
week, among the most important of which was to be the much advertised
re-burning of the city.
"King Pang is trying to keep his fires to the front; but his '_ads_' will
cost him something," laughed Bombs scornfully; "for there are others and
others and they are going to make a big show of everything, from a
razor-back porker to a Golden Rule Mayor. It will be tedious."
"Everything '_from a jackass to a lyre_,' as the Romans say," remarked
Miss Drawling.
"Yes, and you might spell it l-i-a-r," sneered Bombs. "I don't believe
Pang will be there."
"Then why do you go so soon?" asked Mrs. Schwarmer. "You will die of
_te-di-um_--not _te-deum_. There! Mr. Bombs you have spoiled me. I never
made a pun before in my life. I had rather make a pie than a pun."
They all laughed and Bombs said he "must obey his royal father's mandate,
and find out all he could about Pang's trade, with or without King Pang's
aid."
"Perhaps if you will wait a little we will go with you and try to divide
the tedium into shares," suggested Mrs. Schwarmer, whereupon there
occurred a large amount of social banter which finally ended in a
declaration from the ladies that if he would _wait_ they would surely
accompany him; and a declaration from _him_ that if _they_ would surely
accompany him, _he_ would surely wait.
"And you, Miss Adelaide, and Mr. Schwarmer--you will go and take shares
with us, will you not?" asked Bombs.
"Say no, father. We don't want any stock in the Chicago Jubilee. Let's
stay here together," said Adelaide.
"Of course we will stay and keep house, Addie--that is, eat up our
dividends, so to speak."
"Good! Good!" laughed Adelaide.
"Indeed, Miss Adelaide! Won't you feel rather lonely to have us all flit
away?"
"No, Mr. Bombs. I can go to see Ruth every day and the faithful Dombey
will be my escort. I like it here. It's so beautiful, still and sweet. I
would not go to Chicago and be in all that smoke, dust, fire, dynamite and
stuff for anything. O how happy we are going to be here, aren't we
father?"
"Yes, Addie, quite comfortable, I reckon. Of course we shall miss them,
most assuredly we shall; but we'll try and not grow thin over it," laughed
Schwarmer.
The next day after their departure Adelaide went to see Ruth and took her
mother's journal as she had promised.
"You see how dearly I prize it," she said, taking off the rose-scented
covering. "I have had it rebound and adorned with her own portrait and
those of other _Friends_ so far as I can find them--every one she
mentioned in the Journal--William Penn, Elizabeth Fry, Lucretia Mott and
many others."
She handed it to Ruth to look at the portraits. It was bound in soft gray
plush and had bands and clasps of solid silver.
"O how delicate and shining!" exclaimed Ruth taking it tenderly from her
hand--"like her quiet, cheerful spirit I fancy."
"Yes, that's the way I tried to have it seem," replied Adelaide brushing
away a tear; "but I didn't know as you would understand it. Her dresses
are all of this dove-like tint. Sometimes when I am alone I put them on."
"Did she wear the Friends' cap and bonnet?" asked Ruth.
"No, she did not think them essential; but she drew the line at adornments
for the production of which human life is imperiled or animal life
recklessly destroyed," replied Adelaide.
"And this is your mamma on the first page? How much you look like her!"
"Not mamma, but mother," said Adelaide. "She wanted me to call her
mother--to speak of her and think of her as mother, and I always have. I
call my _second_ mother, mamma."
"How old were you when she died?" asked Ruth.
"Three years, and father married again when I was four."
Ruth handed back the journal and Adelaide began reading in a low tuneful
voice like that of a mother talking to her child.
"MY DEAR DAUGHTER ADELAIDE:
"The doctors say that I have consumption--the incurable disease, and that
I cannot live many years at the longest. I can hardly believe it--I feel
so well and happy and have such a desire to live and be ever near thee to
guard thee against the evils and perils of this world; but lest I may not
I will try to make it plain to thee what the evils and perils are that
encompass us around and about--plain to thee according to my light,
received through the teachings that have been handed down to me through a
long line of ancestry, from such good and wise men as George Fox and
William Penn. Remember that I do not say that they were the only wise
teachers in the world or that their light is the perfect light or rather
all the light; but that it is good so far as it goes has not as yet been
gainsayed. Even thy father who was not reared in my faith, can find no
flaw in it except that it is impracticable in the present imperfect
conditions of the world. I trust he is beginning to see the light of
Christ as it is and will be. Keep near him, dear child, very near him.
Seek for the living light together, hand in hand. It is needed everywhere,
in our daily walk and conversation and even in our dress and adornments. I
am not one who thinks that the cut or style of a dress or hat is of great
importance and yet I have been led to perceive that there is a line beyond
which it would be a sin to go--that we should use nothing for personal
adornment which calls for the cruel slaughter of animals or for vicious
and degrading work from our fellow creatures. Lest words fail to express
my meaning, I will give thee an experience of my own as an illustration.
"Thy father gave me a set of pearls for a wedding gift. All my friends
both in and out of Friends Society said it was a beautiful and appropriate
gift. I thought so too. Their gentle lustre pleased me. They were in
harmony with my silver-gray gown. We went to Paris for our wedding trip.
One day we visited the famous oyster markets and parks which provide such
a bountiful food supply for the sustenance of the human race.
"'What a blessing particularly to the working people,' said thy father.
'The ever-ready meat that unlike beef does not have to be killed and
cooked.'
"But even while we were talking of the goodness of Providence in
furnishing such a convenient sort of food, a shadow crossed our path, that
startled us both. It was a man with a sallow complexion, bulging brow and
piercing eyes. He was hurrying on at a wild and rapid pace but as he
observed us he stopped stone still and glared at us--or rather at my pearl
brooch and ring--glancing from one to the other with a greedy look that
frightened me for I had read of people being robbed of jewels in the
streets of Paris in broad daylight.
"'Oh! he's not dangerous,' laughed the guide. 'He's one of those
scientific wretches who is on the watchout for pearl oysters. He goes
prowling around the oyster beds and markets in search of them. He was
looking at your pearls to see if they had a _perfect skin_ and a _fine
orient_.'
"'I see he is interested in oysters as pearl producers instead of food
products,' said thy father.
"'He has curious ideas about pearls,' said the guide. 'He says they are
the product of disease in the animal--that the disease is contagious and
he is hard at work trying to spread the contagion!'
"'Spreading contagion among oysters! What a work for a sane man,' said thy
father. 'How does he manage the business?'
"'He takes the oysters that are afflicted with the pearl disease and puts
them in the bed with those that are not afflicted and keeps them there
until they catch the disease. He says it is as easy to spread as the small
pox.'
"O how horrid! I cried. How satanic! To think of going to work
deliberately to introduce disease and contagion, even among the lower
forms of life! And he does all this, not to benefit the hungry poor but to
hang more and more pearls around the necks of the greedy rich!
"Thy father laughed; but it was no laughing matter for me. I cried over my
wedding pearls that night and resolved to lock them up out of my sight as
soon as I returned home.
"The next day I was strengthened in my resolution by meeting with a pearl
diver. The poor man was worn out before his time by this dreadful
business. He sat day after day by the sea looking out upon its sparkling
surface and dreaming and talking of the perils he had encountered down
below in its green gloom--of the hideous armor he wore when he went forth
to war with its savage army of sharks and devil-fishes, in order to win
pearls for the Queens of the world and the queens of men's hearts.
"Will you show us your awful armor? I asked.
"'Certainly, madam, and get my son to trick me out in it, though I've
never worn it since the day that the shark cut off my air pipe and the
terrible pressure blew out my eye balls and ear drums to the bursting
point.'
"O don't put the horrid thing on, I pleaded, only show it to us.
"But put it on he would--the ply upon ply of clothing, the heavy weights
for the feet, back and breast and the awful barred helmet, which was
screwed up at last like a lid to a coffin, making him deaf and dumb to the
outside world! O, my child, I cannot tell thee of the sensations I felt as
I looked upon that manacled denuded specimen of the human being sent out
to fight the vain war for _pearls_!
"But the worst of all is the war between governments and nations. It is
the giant murder. It impoverishes and brutalizes humanity. It is the
cardinal sin against which the Society of Friends have always striven.
George Fox began the good fight, and William Penn though reared for the
army and tempted by rewards of glory and honor, renounced all and joined
the blessed Brotherhood of Peace. Not only that but he came to this new
world and put his principles into practice, as thou wilt see when thou are
old enough to read his life which thou wilt find in my little library that
I have willed to thee. Read it and ponder it in thy heart, dear child. It
will tell thee far better than I can of the sin and horror of war and the
beauty and loveliness of peace.
"Look about thee and search out the apostles and prophets of peace the
world over and establish spiritual or visible communion with the friends
of peace everywhere. Those that preach and write and paint--foremost among
whom at the present time are Count Tolstoi and Vassili Verestchagin of far
off Russia. I had read much about Tolstoi and knew of his great influence
for peace; but it had never occurred to me that an artist could make the
painted lesson fully as effective until we met Vassili on our trip abroad
and talked with him face to face. He was educated for the navy even as
Penn was, but he laid aside the sword for palette and brushes and painted
the horrors of war so truly and in such living colors that no one with a
soul could look upon them without being converted to peace--so truly that
the German soldiers were not permitted to look upon them! So truly that
the Russian soldiers fled their country rather than be compelled to join
the army. So truly that he was counselled by the Government to destroy one
of his greatest truth-tellers--a large picture of Alexandre II. sitting
safely on a hill watching the awful slaughter of his soldiers at the
battle of Plevua.
"The truth seems terrible to behold, especially to 'the powers that be,'
said Vassili as we stood by the ghastly picture of the 'Frozen Sentinel in
the Shipka Pass,' but I can't help that, I must paint the truth or
nothing. I wade through the inferno of the most hideous battles for the
precious kernel of truth, and when I find it I can't gloss it over and
make it appear what it is not. If you ever have another awful war in
America I shall have to come over and paint it truly."
"'You need not wait for another war,' said I, 'to get material for a
warning truth. We have a glorification of war every year--yes, twice a
year now; that is more dangerous than war itself, because it begins at the
root. It takes hold of the children.'
"'I shall be there in good time,' were his last words to us. I believe
that he will come, dear child, and that thou wilt see him and help him in
his mission of truth.
"Next to the giant murder of war there is another murder that is like unto
it. It is not wholesale murder like that which is done by the Government
army, but it is worse in some respects. It is surely worse for the one who
strikes the death blow--for the man that is hired by the Government to
murder its criminals inasmuch as such a life-taker is abhorred not only by
the criminals whom he releases from life as gently as possible, but by the
people whose instrument he is; while the other murderer, the army officer
who leads hundreds of splendid young men and horses over wounded bodies of
friends or foes to cruel slaughter is applauded on all sides and covered
with honor and glory.
"I saw them standing side by side one day--these two kinds of murderers.
One was plainly dressed and carried a grimy black bag in his white bony
hand. He was wrinkled and old before his time. He was nervous and
shrinking, as though the fingers of the living were pointing at him and
the curses of the dead following him.
"The other man was richly dressed and had a sword at his belt. He was
large, full-fleshed and florid. He was bold, brazen and bulging, as though
the whole world were at his back, pushing him forward and encouraging him
to cultivate every bestial faculty to the full extent.
"Yes, dear Adelaide; I saw these two men standing side by side one day at
a railway station. It was before thou wert born. I knew well enough who
the man with the sword was, but the other!--the frightened, woe-begone
looking man? Thy father did not want to tell me about him at first. He
thought it might hurt thee and me. He was foolish about such matters as
kind husbands are apt to be. It cannot hurt anyone to talk and think
freely at any time about anything that is worth thinking or talking about.
It hurts them and those born of them to suppress the truth."
"O how true!" exclaimed Ruth! "Ralph ought to hear that."
Adelaide nodded as she went on.
"And I did think of those men until my journey was ended, and I have
thought of them many times since. Thanks to my righteous teachers I was
able to see them as they were. They filled my soul with horror and
pity--pity, for I perceived that they were the monsters the Government
(which is ourselves) had made. But I pitied the scared looking man with
the grimy black bag in which his weapon of death lay concealed more than I
did the man with the glittering sword that he wore boldly in the eyes of
all. He looked so wretched, so oppressed and conscience stricken, that I
thought the time would surely come when he would throw off the terrible
yoke that had been put upon him and refuse to use the bolts of heaven for
the extinction of human life. But when I heard that he was working by
night and day on an awful chair--a veritable throne of death on which the
criminal will sit and die without looking upon his executioner's hated
presence; my pity was mingled with loathing, for I perceived that he was a
willing instrument instead of a terrible necessity, and that he cared
nothing for the victims of the law except that he might be spared from
their cursings and hate. That he was plotting against them while he was
hiding away from them and making of that _death-machine a life-work_.
"Beware of all such men, my dear daughter. Believe thy mother when she
tells thee that the life-taker is sure to be a brute. Trust not thyself
least of all to the so-called capable brute. See to it that the occupation
of the man that would marry thee be not of their kind.
"In short, marry no one unless the spirit moves thee strongly. Remember
that the credit is not to those who bring the most children into the world
but those that bring the best or take the best care of those that are
already here."
Adelaide paused and looked at Ruth questioningly.
"She meant that the Krupp guns, torpedo boats and all those horrible war
implements were inventions of the capable brute, did she not?" asked
Adelaide.
"Yes, and more too. She meant all those dangerous things that are made for
boys to celebrate with," said Ruth.
"And the capable brutes are such inventors as Krupp and Pang--and Bombs,"
added Adelaide hesitatingly, as though averse to including him in the same
class.
"Yes," replied Ruth; "but Mr. Bombs is young and perhaps you can influence
him to do better things."
Adelaide shook her head vigorously. Ruth had not quite caught her meaning
but she did not know just how to explain it, so she went on with the
journal.
"Next to the cruel game of war are the celebrations that glorify war or
warriors. They are murderous at the core and they are growing worse and
worse every year. Notably our Independence Day. I was never so fully
conscious of it as now. I have just been to see a little boy who is dying
of _Tetanus_. His sufferings were terrible to witness. His father gave him
that invention of the evil one, a toy pistol. No father in our society
would have done such a thing. O how I wish Vassili had been there to paint
the scene in its true horror and exhibit it all over this reckless
American continent.
"Last of all come the games of chance. Many of them are dangerous to life
and limb and all of them are more or less sinful. They are wrong in
principle inasmuch as they are a waste of energy--the great Divine energy
that was given us for the regeneration of the world and the building up
and beautifying of the God-given body instead of tearing it down, defacing
it, brutalizing it and arousing within it the murderous spirit of
resistance and revenge. Such games are too numerous to mention. Thou wilt
know them by their signs. They are among the perils that encompass thee
around and about.
"Look at them with an unclouded vision. Let not custom blind thee to their
sinuousness and wrong. Set an honest face against them. Cast out the devil
that is in them and invent new ways of amusing the young and entertaining
the old.
"Think of these things, dear child. Think of the women and children that
are shivering and starving while millions and millions are being spent in
battleships and hideous inventions for the destruction of human life.
Raise thy voice against them and do whatsoever thou canst to avert or heal
the poverty and misery that follow in their track.
"How I wish I could be spared to go with thee, for I feel that thou _wilt_
go about doing good to souls in need. Yes, the spirit tells me so, dear
child, and I must listen and be content."
Truly thine,
ELEANOR TOWNSEND SCHWARMER.
"How I wish she could have been spared; and how I wish I could see Vassili
Verestchagin!" whispered Adelaide as she closed the journal.