I didn't look for anybody to be about that early after the night that
outfit had put in; but just before I reached the corral I saw Barbie
an' Jim ridin' slowly toward the stable. They was ridin' close together
an' lookin' into each other's eyes, an' I'm glad to say that even that
soon I felt nothin' but joy in the sight. A little farther on I spied
Jabez an' his wife standin' on a knoll, lookin' at the sunshine, an'
before I reached the house I saw two others swingin' up the trail on a
lope. In a minute I made out Bill Hammersly an' Jessamie. For just one
second I did feel a little bit out o' the world; but by the time they
rode up I was able to welcome 'em with a joke.
"We lost our way," sez Bill. "Is it too late?"
"It's never too late," sez I. "But I'm right down sorry that you didn't
arrive last evenin'. We had about as stirrin' a weddin' here as ever
you see."
"Who was it that Barbie married?" asked Jessamie.
Just then Jim an' Barbie came around the corner o' the house, an' I
sez: "Mr. an' Mrs. Bill Hammersly, allow me to make you introduced to
the Earl o' Clarenden an' his bride."
They was totally devoid of remarks for some time. Jim was the first to
speak, an' he seemed a trifle put out. "What do you mean by such
nonsense, Happy?" sez he. Then they all looked at him on account of him
usin' the tone he had. I turned to Barbie an' sez easily: "I was
tellin' Bill down at Frisco about a month ago that I rather doubted if
Jim here would take the job; but if so be that he wants it, it's open
for him. If not, that Hawthorn thing has the next chance."
I stepped back a few paces after this an' let 'em talk it out. Jim was
the most flabbergasted of any, Barbie looked a little bit frightened;
but Jessamie sez: "If Happy Hawkins sez 'at you're the Earl of
Clarenden, why you might as well give up. He has inside information on
every given subject, an' things don't never happen until he's had his
finger in it somewhere." Jessamie allus was a good feller.
An' that's the way it turned out. Jim an' Barbie went back to Clarenden
on their honeymoon, an' Barbie's taken the lead over there the same as
she'd do anywhere. I stayed right at the Diamond Dot 'cause Jabez
didn't seem able to get along without me; an' I hit work harder than
ever. Now I oversee the Diamond Dot, Jim's place down in the Pan
Handle, which is full stocked an' runnin' easy with the ex-governor's
backin', an' also the ol' Colonel Scott ranch which Bill and Jessamie
fell heir to.
Jim an' Barbie an' the children come back every summer; Bill an'
Jessamie an' their outfit hop in on me most any time, Ches an' his
bunch drop in for a week or so now an' again, an' if I ever do get
lonesome I just sneak my full-dress uniform out o' the hay an' go down
to Frisco for a little easin' off o' the guy-ropes. Oh, I haven't had
to petition to congress to have my name changed; I'm Happy. I'm happier
than any human ever had a right to be, an' life never drags none--at
least not in the daytimes. The' 's dozens o' boys named after me, an'
only the recordin' angel knows how many dogs an' ponies. Take it as a
big gatherin', an' if any one yells, "Happy, you rascal, get out o'
here," Why the' 's a general stampede.
Barbie's allus extra kind to me, as if she still felt that the' was
somethin' left for me to forgive her; but my goodness, the' ain't a
thing. It wasn't her fault--she couldn't never have loved me--not in
the only way I wanted her to. And it ain't my fault--I couldn't help
but love her, an' the' was only one way that I could love her, an' that
was world without end. I'm not sorry I loved her; why, the' ain't
nothin' in life I'd take for this love of mine--and it is mine. The'
ain't nothin' can ever take it away from me, the' ain't nothin' can
ever put a limit to it; an' though it has burned in my heart like fire,
I reckon the worst it has ever done was to burn up the natural-born
evil I started out with. I ain't mean-hearted nor jealous--I can't even
understand it.
I can easy see how a feller would kill a man for ill-treatin' the woman
he loved; but I can't see how he could marry a girl who didn't love him
with all her heart. An' Jim, he's been square. They're happy, an' I
stand afar off watchin' 'em; an' some way when I'm out in the
starlight--when it seems that I ain't lyin' on the earth at all, but
floatin' slow an' easy like an eagle restin' on his wings--I seem to
share in their love, an' I don't seem to grow old.
I don't reckon I ever will grow old, 'cause love is--love is--some way
MY love is like the starlight itself; an' the starlight don't scorch
an' weaken an' pester like the sun; it soothes an' softens an' lifts a
man up where it's calm an' steady and--and pure.
The longer I live the fonder I grow o' the stars. It don't take as much
sleep for me now as it used to, an' I never was dopey; so the' 's
mighty few nights 'at I don't have a little visit with 'em. I know now
'at they keep whirlin' an' circlin' away up there; but they never
deceive a body. You can allus keep track of 'm, an' when the seasons
change an' you can't see 'em for a while, you know 'at they're tendin'
to their duties just the same; an' somehow it kind o' holds a man to
the trail when the trail is gettin' rougher than he thinks he can stand.
I've got a heap o' friends, men an' women of all kinds; an' when they
come to me ragin' an' bitter, I just take 'em out an' show 'em the
stars; tell 'em the ones who are about to go on a long journey, but who
will come back again when they're due, an' not a minute late. The' 's
something about the stars 'at allus seems to take the wickedness out of
a human. I've had 'em come to me--men an' women both--with murder in
their hearts; but after we've visited a while with the stars they
either sigh or sob--but they allus go away clean an' rested.
It's a funny notion; but sometimes I feet like as if I'd like to be a
star myself; away up above the worry an' selfishness of the world, an'
helpin' to bring peace an content to those who look up to me. It's a
funny notion--especially for a feller what's follered the trail I have.
Me an' the preachers lock horns purty often; but they're all right,
most of 'em, when you treat 'em like humans an' make 'em play fair. One
of 'em happened out here on a visit, to sort o' rest up, an' he called
me some kind of a Persian name an' read me a little book called The
Other Wise Man. I reckon I know that book, all except the big names, by
heart; an' if one of my stars would ever cut out o' the herd an' go
off, slow an' stately on a new trail, why I'd foller that star--God
knows I'd foller; an'--I wouldn't let on to no one else except
you--but, way down, deep in my heart, I'm hopin' that sometime I'll get
the chance.