I have made a discovery--I have found out America's Princely Man! It is
Abraham Lincoln, and this is his Birthday!
Magazines have been coming down from the North telling us all about this
Princely Man, and I have asked grandmother and Uncle Theodore hundreds
of questions, it seems to me, about him. And I can see that they never
get tired answering those questions, but seem as if they could talk
about him forever.
Scarcely a political debate occurs, either in Congress or in the Press
of the country, but the possible views or actual example of Abraham
Lincoln are quoted as the strongest argument, Uncle Theodore says.
The magazines find it impossible to publish too much about him. Mention
of his name in an incidental fashion from a stage or forum draws a burst
of cheering; or if the reference is of a humorous nature the laughter is
close to tears.
"With love and reverence his memory is cherished by the American people
as is the memory of no other man," said dear grandmother. "Quoting a
'Decoration Day' orator," she added, "'He was called to go by the
sorrowful way, bearing the awful burden of his people's woe, the cry of
the uncomforted in his ears, the bitterness of their passion on his
heart. Misunderstood, misjudged, he was the most solitary of men. He had
to tread the wine-press alone, and of the people none went with him.
But he turned not back. He never faltered. As one upheld, sustained by
the Unseen Hand, he set his face steadfastly, undaunted, unafraid, until
in Death's black minute he paid glad life's arrears: the slaves free!
Himself immortal!'"
Yes, it is quite certain that Abraham Lincoln is America's Princely Man!
_I_ would like to make something happen in the world that would be
talked about after I am dead. Grandmother says that it is only something
that one does for the _good_ of the world that is remembered after he is
dead. "If a man has money, people will lionize him as long as he is
living for the sake of it," she says, "but money counts for nothing when
a man is dead."
"Money!" said Uncle Theodore, who had been listening to our talk. "I
doubt whether Abe ever owned enough to buy a farm."
_February 15th, 1----_
One comfort, I am not bothered much with Aunt Gwendolin--she has become
acquainted with a French nobleman, Count de Pensier, and he is
attracting all her attention, thanks be to goodness! Mrs. Delancy is
delighted, and is doing all she can to further the acquaintance. "It is
not every day that one has the privilege of associating daily and hourly
with one of the _titled aristocracy_ of the old world," she has said
several times in my hearing.
When we first arrived Aunt Gwendolin saw some of the Spanish ladies
wearing mantillas on their heads, and she immediately bought one for me.
"There!" she said when I put it on, "isn't that simply perfect? Doesn't
that make her Spanish through and through?" She says that when I become
a thorough Spanish-American she is going to give a "coming out party"
for me.
The scarf is really quite becoming. Uncle Theodore admired it, or
admired me with it on, so I wear it wound around my head when I go on my
rambles through the country with him. I really much prefer it to the
bristling hats of the American women, and it is quite pleasant to be
called "señorita," and to be thought Spanish.
These long head scarfs are also worn by the poor women, but theirs are
made of cotton. On the street they carry their babies strapped to their
backs with it, the little heads and legs bobbing up and down until one
would think they might snap off. Sometimes the scarf ties the baby to
the mother's bosom, thus leaving her hands free for other work.
"Our American sensibilities" (quoting Aunt Gwendolin) "are sometimes
shocked by Mexican doings."
One day we saw a procession headed by the father carrying a tiny coffin
on his head. Behind him walked the mother dragging by the hand a little
bare-foot girl, of two or three; and behind them again trotted a dog.
The father was drunk, and staggered as he walked.
As we watched the little procession on the way to the graveyard they
passed in front of a saloon where they sold pulque. The father wanted
another drink, so he started to enter the saloon taking the little
coffin under his arm. He stumbled on the threshold, and the little pine
box fell out of his hands down onto the flag-stones, the cover coming
off. And we saw a little dead baby within the coffin, with a crown of
gilt paper on its head, and a cross of gilt paper on its brow. In its
little hands were a bunch of flowers. The man laughed awkwardly, put the
lid on the coffin and placed it on his head again, proceeding toward the
graveyard without his drink, followed by the mother, the girl, and the
dog.
"Why do not the American missionaries who are crossing oceans to find
heathen, look for them at their own doorstep?" said Uncle Theodore
afterwards, when he was telling the story to grandmother.
"Sure enough," returned grandmother, "it does look as if the
unenlightened of its own continent is America's first duty."
Aunt Gwendolin is having moonlight walks and talks innumerable with
Count de Pensier--and--oh, I am having LIBERTY!
_February 21st, 1----_
We have had some unusual excitement lately--a bull and tiger fight. The
day following, the description came out in a morning paper:
"A fight between a Tiagua bull and a Bengal tiger in the bull ring
this afternoon was most ferocious, and will result in the death of
both animals. The sickening spectacle was witnessed by 5,500
people, largely Americans, and many of them tourists, who stopped
over here especially to witness the barbaric spectacle. After three
bulls had been despatched in the regulation manner, the star
performance was pulled off. The two animals, enclosed in an iron
cage, about thirty feet square, were brought together, and the
battle between the enraged brutes commenced. The bull was first
taken into the enclosure and given the usual bull fight tortures to
arouse his ire, and then the iron cage containing the tiger was
wheeled up to the entrance; but the tiger refused to get out and
open the battle, and the bull attempted to get into the small cage
and get at his adversary. The bull was badly scratched about the
face. Finally the tiger came from his cage, and the bull gored the
cat with a long, sharp horn as he emerged. With a screech of pain,
the cat, with a powerful lunge, broke the bull's right leg, and
then the two animals went into the fight for their lives. The tiger
was able to spring out of the way of the bull in a number of
instances, but when the big, heavy animal caught his adversary it
went hard with the tiger. The bull stepped upon the tiger in one
instance and there was a crunching of ribs audible in the seats of
the amphitheatre.
"The bull disabled the tiger in the back, and after that the
fighting was tame, and the Americans cried for pity, while the
Mexicans cheered and wanted the performance to continue."
Mrs. Delancy, and Aunt Gwendolin, along with Uncle Theodore and Count de
Pensier, attended the fight. Grandmother would not go, and I stayed with
her.
"A _Christian lady_ going to a bull fight," I said to grandmother under
my breath.
"Yes, my dear," returned grandmother looking really pale, "it shocks me
quite as much as _you_. It was not so when I was young. American women
of the present day must see everything. It is deplorable!"
When the scene was the most harrowing, and the Americans were calling
for the fight to be stopped, Aunt Gwendolin, and I believe several other
American women, fainted, and had to be carried out.
"Dear me, dear me," said grandmother again, when she heard the harrowing
details. "That is just the way with Americans of the present day; they
must see everything. It was not so when I was young."
Who should walk into our presence at that very moment but Professor
Ballington. He had heard grandmother's remark, without knowing the
cause for her words, and as he was shaking hands with us he said:
"You believe the poet Watson diagnosed Uncle Sam's case when he said:
"'But when Fate
Was at thy making, and endowed thy soul
With many gifts and costly, she forgot
To mix with those a genius for repose;
And therefore a sting is ever in thy blood,
And in thy marrow a sublime unrest.'"
"It was not so when I was young," said grandmother. "How can we lay the
shortcoming at the door of Fate?"
"Chinese women would never attend a bull and tiger fight, grandmother,"
I whispered into her ear when the professor was looking the other way,
"nor Chinese gentlemen."
"I hope not, my dear," is all the reply dear grandmother made.
Professor Ballington only stayed with us a day or two; he was just on a
tour, he said, and had to cover a certain amount of space within a
certain period of time. Grandmother and I were very desirous that he
should remain longer; but I really believe Aunt Gwendolin felt relieved
when he was gone. She did not appear to feel comfortable with his
comprehending eyes upon her when she was entertaining Count de Pensier.
_February 28th, 1----_
The Count has proposed to my Aunt Gwendolin, and she has accepted him.
Grandmother is in tears ever since, and Uncle Theodore is furious. I
heard the latter talking to my grandmother--in his excitement he seemed
to forget my presence--and he said:
"That Frenchman is just a fortune-hunter, one of those penniless,
titled gentry that swarm in Europe. He wants Gwendolin's money to regild
a tarnished title, and Gwendolin wants the title! He has found out from
Arabella Delancy the size of Gwendolin's fortune, in possession and in
prospective, and he has offered his title in exchange for it! That's the
size of the whole affair!"
"That's what grieves me most," said grandmother, with quivering lips;
"it is not holy matrimony."
"I look for a divorce within five years!" continued my uncle.
"I had always hoped that Gwendolin and Professor Ballington would make
up some time," added grandmother.
"Oh, Gwendolin would never suit Ballington," returned Uncle Theodore.
"Your granddaughter--the little Celestial--is the making of a woman much
more to his taste--" He looked up suddenly, and seemed to remember for
the first time that I was in the room.
I, sly, subtle Oriental that I am, worked away on my shadow embroidery
and never by the wink of an eyelid, or the movement of a muscle showed
that I heard a word.
_April 5th, 1----_
We are home again, and all is bustle and confusion--Aunt Gwendolin is
going to be married. She pays no attention to me now at all; and you
know, dear diary, how that grieves me. Dressmakers, milliners, caterers,
florists, decorators, throng the house. Count de Pensier is staying in a
hotel downtown. He calls every forenoon, and every afternoon; and
declares, with his hand on his heart, that he cannot return to his own
country without his bride.
Cousin Ned has asked me to marry him. He is down in his luck, and
blue--missed in his examinations--and he says he believes he might
settle down and do something if he were only married. He says the
relationship is so far out that there is nothing to hinder him and me
from being married.
Get married, indeed! There's nothing farther from my thoughts.
_May 25th, 1----_
Well the fuss and flurry are all over--they are married, Aunt Gwendolin
and Count de Pensier. I cannot do better than copy a paragraph out of
the newspaper to describe the doings:
"The church was beautifully decorated with azaleas, palms, orchids;
tall white wands supporting sheaves of palms stood at each aisle. The
walls of the church were festooned with green wreathing. The bride was
given away by her brother, Theodore Morgan, Esq. She looked exceedingly
handsome in an exquisite gown of heavy, ivory-white satin, with panel of
filet lace, seeded with pearls. The long train was trimmed with lace and
pearl seeding. With this was worn a costly lace veil, caught to her
Titian hair with a chaplet of orange blossoms, and she carried a shower
bouquet of Bridal roses.
"The six bridesmaids were gowned in ivory taffeta silk, wearing picture
hats; and each carried an immense bouquet of Bride's-maid's roses."
As is usual at American functions, the men did not seem to be of enough
importance to mention anything more than their bare names.
It all took place in _Christ's_ Church. Was He there? Grandmother says
He is back in this world now in spirit. What did He think of it all?
"Grandmother," I said when it was all over--the church display, the
reception, the eating and drinking, the dressing--"if I am ever married
let it be in China."
"My dear child," said grandmother in alarm, "why do you make such a wild
request as that?"
"Seated at a table the bride is offered a tiny cup of wine," I replied,
"of which she takes a sip, while the bridegroom in a seat opposite her
also sips from a similar cup of wine. The cups are then exchanged, and
again tasted, and the marriage service is completed. They have time to
think about each other, instead of thinking of what a grand show they
are making for the world."
Grandmother looked at me in silence a few moments, then she said:
"Your grandfather and I were married quietly in our own little home
parlour. I was dressed in white muslin, and your grandfather in
corduroy. We were thinking more about each other than anything else, my
dear."
The bride and groom, Count and Countess de Pensier, started at once for
the ancestral home in sunny France, I suppose to begin regilding the
tarnished title Uncle Theodore spoke about.
Oh, be joyful! I shall not have to go to the "Fashionable Boarding
School" any more! I shall not have to appear at a "coming out party!" I
shall never come _out_ now; I shall always stay _in_! Grandmother says I
may stay in if I want to, and I _do_ want to. I shall never have to
steal out the back door in grandmother's clothes any more, sing any more
foreign songs, or pretend I am Spanish! It is lovely to be able to act
the truth! "It is an ill wind that blows nobody good." (This last is one
of grandmother's familiar sayings.)
Cousin Ned has lost one of his eyes! Got it knocked out at the last
"Play."
_May 30th, 1----_
I have made a most astounding discovery. Walking down the street
yesterday I saw a great placard on a wall announcing a lecture; subject,
"_The Yellow Peril_." What did it mean? I thought _I_ was the Yellow
Pearl, and that nobody outside of the family knew it. But this was
spelled p-e-r-i-l instead of P-e-a-r-l. What could it mean? I could go
no farther, but returned at once to question grandmother.
"Grandmother!" I cried, entering her room, "what is the yellow peril?"
Dear grandmother's cheeks flushed, and she said, "My dear child, why
bother yourself about that?"
"Why, grandmother, I thought when I overheard Aunt Gwendolin talk, that
_I_ was the Yellow Pearl; she called me such the first day I came," I
said. "But on the placard it is spelled p-e-r-i-l. What does it mean?"
"I am sorry you saw it," said grandmother hesitatingly. "There is too
much being said on that subject by a certain class of people--It is the
_world_ God loves," she added as if talking to herself, "not the United
States, Great Britain, Germany; the yellow people are just as dear to
God as we are. The gentle Christ looked widely over the world, shed
tears for it, shed blood for it."
"What does the yellow peril mean, grandmother?" I repeated anxiously.
"The Mongolian races are more yellow than the Caucasian races," said
grandmother, when forced to answer. "They are also more numerous, and
some people fear that if we allow them in the country they may get the
upper hand, and become a menace to our people. Do not think any more
about it, Pearl. Our dear late Phillips Brooks," she added after a short
pause, "said, 'No nation, as no man, has a right to take possession of a
choice bit of God's earth, to exclude the foreigner from its territory,
that it may live more comfortably and be a little more at peace. But if
this particular nation has been given the development of a certain part
of God's earth for universal purposes, if the world in the great march
of centuries is going to be richer for the development of a certain
national character, built up by a larger type of manhood here, then for
the world's sake, for the sake of every nation that would pour in upon
it that which would disturb that development, we have a right to stand
guard over it.'"
This was a long speech for dear grandmother, who is not given to
speechifying, and I know the subject must have given her serious
thought, or she would never have remembered it.
"Is America being built up by a larger type of manhood, grandmother?" I
asked.
"Oh, my dear, I do not know, I do not know," returned grandmother.
I stopped talking to grandmother, because she looked worried, but I
could not stop _thinking_, I am both the Yellow Pearl, and the yellow
peril! Why am I here? What were four hundred millions of us born into
the world for? Is yellow badness any worse than white badness?
_June 20th, 1----_
What a heavenly time we are having, grandmother, Uncle Theodore, and
myself, living our nice, quiet lives without distraction! Sometimes we
have Professor Ballington in to dinner, then he drops in evenings quite
often when he is not formally invited. Other old friends come too,
enough to break the monotony.
Chauffeur Graham was obliged to leave grandmother's employ some time
ago; indeed he has never come back since we returned from Mexico. He
says it is his last term in the Medical College, and he has to give all
the time to his studies. It would be nicer if he were around. I do not
seem to care about going out in the automobile now at all.--How is one
to know whether this new chauffeur may not run the automobile into a
telegraph pole, or something, and kill us all?
_June 13th, 1----_
Chauffeur Graham has graduated. He is now Doctor Graham. Isn't that
lovely! Just like a story book! Uncle Theodore and I went up to see him
take his degree. My! wasn't he fine looking! Tall, beautiful figure,
and, as I said before, a handsome face. Uncle Theodore is quite
interested in him, as well as grandmother.
On the evening of the day on which he received his degree, he overtook
me as I was walking through the park, and told me that he had noticed me
in the audience.
He says he is going to put in a year's practice in the hospital before
going to China. I was glad to hear that; it would seem rather lonesome
in this big America without him, I really believe.
Poor Cousin Ned is standing behind a counter downtown, selling tacks and
shingle nails. He had to give up his studies on account of his eyes--the
one eye could not stand the strain. Unluckily about that time his father
lost his money in some speculation, and there was nothing for it but
poor Ned must go to work.
_Another June._
I have been so happy, and life has been so satisfactory that I have not
written in my diary for many months. I believe it is only when one's
heart is so sorrowful and distracted that it must overflow somewhere,
that one pours it into a diary. I have so much to say now that I
scarcely know where to begin.
Well, to begin at the beginning, one night Uncle Theodore asked Doctor
Graham to dinner, along with Professor Ballington, and another
gentleman. After that Doctor Graham began to call quite frequently
evenings--he seemed to enjoy grandmother's company so much, and I am
sure she enjoyed his.
Well--Oh, I never can tell how it all came about, but I have promised
to go to China with Dr. Graham, to help him learn the Chinese language.
It is an _awful_ language for a foreigner to learn, and I just could not
bear the thought of the poor fellow having to wrestle with it alone.
It was one evening we were alone in the drawing-room, grandmother having
been unable to appear owing to a headache, that we came to the final
arrangement.
But suddenly I thought of something that was going to upset it all, I
believed,--he didn't know who I was!
"Oh!" I cried, "I cannot go with you--you will not want me--you do not
know--that--I--am the Yellow Peril!"
He smiled down at me, and raised my chin in the palm of his left
hand--for he had not let me go from his right, although I had tried to
get away--and said, "I expect to be very proud of my Yellow Pearl."
Now I am receiving congratulations which are making me feel very happy
and proud, with the exception of Professor Ballington's. I cannot help
feeling sorry for that poor old bachelor. He came up to me and said:
"My dear Miss Pearl, I had been vain enough to hope once that I might
sometime call this pearl mine, but if I cannot do so, I do not know of
any one that I would sooner see claim it than Doctor Graham. And so I
say, God bless you! God bless you! You shall always have the love of an
old bachelor. And in this world, obsessed with fever and noise, with the
sham and superficial, may you always remain the genuine pearl you are."
There were tears in his voice. Why must every rose have a thorn?
We are going to China, Doctor Graham and I, my native land; the land of
flashing poppy-blossoms, red azaleas, purple wistarias, blue larkspur,
yellow jasmine, oleanders, begonias, and flowering bamboos--the Flowery
Kingdom. Dr. Graham is going to establish a hospital, to set broken legs
and bind up broken heads; and I am going to try and prevent any more of
those little Chinese babies from being thrown out on the hillsides to
die.
Grandmother says if we go to China it ought to be to tell the
Confucionists and Buddhists about the great Christ. But I believe if He
went there Himself He would be mending broken legs, binding up broken
heads and hearts, and saving the little babies from being thrown out on
the hillsides to die. Dear grandmother is a standing proof to me that
the Christ means much more to the world than China's Confucius or
Buddha. One day when she was seated in her rocking-chair I threw my arm
around her and told her so. The dear old lady never seemed to accept my
words as a personal compliment at all, but began, as once before, to
sing in a low, quavering voice:
"Let every kindred every tribe
On this terrestrial ball,
To Him all majesty ascribe,
And crown Him Lord of all."