AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.
In the month of August, 1911, six years after our first introduction to
him, we find our hero, Fillmore Flagg, seated in his private office at
Solaris. This office was located in a building on the public square,
near the store, which has been especially designed and constructed, for
use as the central office for the general co-operative, farm movement.
Here, Fillmore Flagg, has been busily engaged for more than two months,
in planning the preliminary work for eight new farms. For the moment, he
seems absorbed in a dreamy reverie. From this, he was sharply aroused by
the entrance of a messenger, who announced a visitor. The visitor proved
to be none other, than our old acquaintance, George Gaylord. The
greetings, exchanged between these re-united college chums, were cordial
indeed! In the conversations which are to follow, the reader will find a
continuation of the story of Solaris Farm.
"Shades of venus! How well you are looking, Fillmore! I need not ask
how you have fared since last we met! One look at your face, tells the
whole story! The goddess of good fortune, must have smiled on you right
royally! I congratulate you most heartily! The fame of your exploits
here at Solaris, has reached New England! What a lovely village you have
made! And the farm too, is just delightful! To behold it, is well worth
the price of a long journey! Of course, at some convenient time, you are
to show me the farm, and tell me all about it."
"Thank you George, for your congratulations; You have surmised
correctly! I have been prospered, far beyond my most sanguine
expectations! At the proper time, I shall take pleasure in relating the
whole story for your benefit. Now, I am anxious to hear something
regarding yourself. Tell me, my dear fellow! To what piece of good
fortune, do I owe this unexpected visit? And, may I hope, that the
goddess you just mentioned, has been equally gracious with her smiles
for you!"
"It is a long story, Fillmore, and I can assure you it is not a pleasant
one. It seems a pity to mar your peace of mind by relating such a
miserable tale of woe! During the past five years, the unkind fates have
frowned upon me, and I have suffered much! In order to give you an
intelligent reason for my visit to Solaris, I must tell you of some
good, and many bitter things which have transpired, since we parted at
the hotel on Mount Meenahga."
"Really! George, I am sorry for your misfortunes! But surmising so much
from your preparatory statement, I now wish to know all that you can
consistently tell me. For the bitterness and suffering, you have my
sympathy in advance."
"Thank you Fillmore! I knew that I could rely on your sympathy and
friendship, under all circumstances. Please pardon any lack of coherence
or orderly arrangement of details, in what I am about to relate.
"Late in the month of November, which followed our parting in the
mountains, in accordance with previous arrangements, I took charge of
the church in the New England city, where my uncle George resided. My
relations with the members of the congregation, proved as pleasant as
could be desired. I became acquainted with Martha Merritt, my uncle's
niece by marriage. She was a beautiful girl! Very winning, sweet and
amiable. I soon became fond of her company. This seemed to please both
my uncle and my mother. I could see that they had set their hearts on a
marriage between Martha and myself.
"About the middle of the following January, acting on a suggestion from
uncle George, I asked Martha for her hand in marriage. After taking a
whole week for consideration, she finally consented and we were engaged.
Some days later, I urged her to name an early day for our wedding. Very
much to my surprise, she said 'You must not hurry me, George! You must
give me time!' I hastened to assure her that I did not wish to be
inconsiderate, and begged her to take another week, in which to fix the
date. During this time, I saw very little of Martha. In the brief
interviews that followed, she was pale and agitated. At the end of the
week, again her old-time self, she came to me with the news that our
wedding day had been fixed for the fifteenth of June, five months
distant.
"Early in February, the clouds of disaster began to gather. My mother
was confined to her bed with what proved to be a serious illness. After
four months of almost constant suffering, which she bore with the
patience and fortitude of a martyr, she was borne across the dark water,
to join that vast majority, that silent, mysterious, ever increasing
host of the buried dead.
"My mother was buried on the fifteenth of June. Overwhelmed with grief,
I readily assented to Martha's suggestion, that our wedding should be
postponed until the first of October. Recovering slowly from the shock
of my bereavement, I turned eagerly to Martha, for loving consolation. I
was horrified, to find that her affection for me had turned to
ill-concealed aversion! There was a terror-stricken, haunted look in her
eyes, as she strove in every possible way, to avoid being left alone
with me even for a moment, which frightened and almost crushed me with
grief. I knew that something dreadful, must have happened! She was so
pitiful to behold, that I could not be angry or jealous! But, I resolved
to know the truth. At the first opportunity, I demanded an explanation.
Bursting into tears, she told me the story of her bitter experience.
"Falling on her knees beside my chair, Martha implored me to be
merciful. 'George,' she said, 'I know that I am the most wretched, and
the most desperately wicked girl on the face of the earth! You have been
so kind, and I have treated you so shamefully! How, can you ever forgive
me? The only reparation that I can now make, is to tell you the whole
truth, without reservation. Ten months before I saw you, while I was at
school near Boston, I met Phillip Plato. The fates would have it, that
we should fall desperately in love with each other, at our first
meeting. In a short time we were engaged. In entering into this
engagement, I did so without the knowledge of my uncle, or any friend. I
did not stop for a moment, to consider my duty to uncle George, who had
always been so good to me. I could think of no one but Phillip, and of
my love for him. In the delirium of love's first dream, the weeks passed
as days! Alas! The dream was passing brief! Somehow, Phillip's parents
became aware of our engagement. They were very wealthy, and exceedingly
ambitious to have Phillip marry more wealth. Angry with him, they came
to me and cruelly declared, that they would never allow him to wed such
a fortuneless girl! With look and gesture of scorn, they told me that
they were just on the eve of going abroad, taking Phillip for two years
of travel, in which they should strive to cure him completely of his
insane infatuation. This, then was the end of my romance. My cruelly
wounded pride, rose up in rebellion. I was furious! I returned scorn for
scorn! I bade them begone!
"'I returned to my uncle's home, my heart hot with the indignation of an
outraged pride, and filled with a determination, to show to the world no
sign, but to use all my strength of will, to cast Phillip out of my
life; to utterly forget him and his selfish, greedy, heartless parents.
When you came, George, I was more anxious than ever before, to please my
uncle in every possible way. I foolishly imagined, that in encouraging
your attentions as a lover, I was helping myself, to forget my love for
Phillip. Oh! What a terrible, cruel mistake! How terrible, how cruel, I
was soon to realize. You will remember, George, how strangely I behaved
at that interview, in which you asked me to fix the day for our
wedding. Let me explain. A few hours previous, while I was lost in one
of my occasional fits of melancholy moping, the voice of Phillip came to
my ears with startling distinctness. The voice said Martha, you must
remain true to me! I love you as devotedly as ever! I am determined,
never to give you up! I am coming home to wed you! I am surely coming!
Wait for me! These words kept ringing in my ears, like the tolling of a
funeral bell. They thrilled me through and through! The barriers of my
pride gave way. The returning tide of my love for Phillip, swept in upon
me with such force, that my heart almost ceased to beat! I was faint,
deadly faint! When I recovered consciousness and afterwards, at our
interview, I was absolutely wretched! Your request, added to my anguish.
I was powerless to answer, I could only beg for more time. All through
that dreadful week, I strove to convince myself that my ears had
deceived me, that the voice was not real, only a phasma, a
hallucination, born of my fits of melancholy. Unfortunately, I finally
succeeded!
"'Now, George, you shall hear the sequel, the climax of my wretchedness.
The day before your mother died, I received a long letter from Phillip.
It was written at Rome. Every line of that letter, was eloquent with
Phillip's steadfast devotion, and love for me. In brief, a complete
verification of what the warning voice had told me. His parents had
relented. He was coming home to make me his bride. He had planned to
arrive at Boston, in time to celebrate the New Year. He spoke of a long
letter, which he had written to me, just on the eve of his going abroad.
In that letter he had assured me of his undying love, of his
determination never to give me up. In closing, he had begged me to wait
for him, to remain true to him. He had repeated its contents, because he
had been constantly haunted with the idea that the letter in question,
had failed to reach me. And so it had.
"'This, George, is the summing up of my misery! It has filled my heart
with the anguish of despair! I can never love anyone but Phillip! I
cannot marry you, George! I cannot! It would be an unpardonable sin
against you, against my own soul! What shall I do? What can I do? What
atonement can I ever make, for the shame, the humiliation, the
suffering, which I have brought into your life?'
"In this brief sketch, Fillmore, you have the substance of Martha's sad
story. I believe it was absolutely true. I was deeply moved, by her
abject misery and humiliation. A great wave of tender sympathy, swelled
in my heart; blotting out all thoughts of self. I gave her back her
engagement, and bade her go free; free to marry whomsoever her heart had
chosen; assured of my forgiveness, and of my wish for her future
happiness. I need not repeat her grateful thanks. From this time
forward, our lives were widely separated.
"During the long tedious months that followed, I was going through a
bitter, humiliating experience. I strove by every effort to so interest
myself in my church work, that I might forget my griefs and my
disappointments. In this, I failed utterly. I found to my amazement,
that I did not possess a thorough belief or confidence, in the efficacy
of the atonement, the very ground work of the entire scheme of Christian
salvation. Without this belief, I could not hope to do effective work in
the ministry. No doubt, this was the cause of my lack of interest in my
pastoral duties; the one thing, during this time of trials, which most
disturbed my mental equilibrium, and added to the intensity of my
sufferings. My growing antipathy towards all kinds of church work, daily
increased the mental tension, caused by anxious seasons of watching,
praying, and fighting, against the farther dominancy of this monstrous
antipathy. All opposing efforts proved useless. With each succeeding
week, my Sunday services became more burdensome, more perfunctory, more
unsatisfactory, more self-accusing. At last, in self defense, the church
trustees proposed my taking a year's vacation, for recuperation.
"This welcome respite, I gladly accepted. My vacation, is now nearly
finished. I cannot go back to my church. I do not wish to go. I realize,
that I am wholly unfitted for its duties. I feel, that I have made life
a failure! In fact, Fillmore, you see before you in your friend George
Gaylord, a man who is aimlessly drifting on the sea of life, like a ship
without a rudder. A man not yet thirty, without a home, without
ambition, hope or purpose! Possibly, I may be in the clutches of some
approaching attack of nervous prostration, I hope not, I am sure!
"You must pardon my prolixity, Fillmore. I will now give you the reason
for my present visit to Solaris. After my mother became very ill, some
weeks before her death, she received a letter from Caroline Houghton, a
life long friend, an old schoolmate. At that time, Mrs. Houghton was
residing in a small town near Denver, Colorado. She was a widow with
scant means of support; with only one child, a daughter. Mrs. Houghton,
in her letter, said: 'I am dying among strangers! I am leaving my
darling daughter alone in the world, without money, without relatives;
simply in charge of recently acquired friends. As a last request, I beg
you, after I am gone to exercise a protecting care over my orphaned
child!'
"This letter worried my mother greatly. I think if she had been well,
she would have hurried to Mrs. Houghton's bedside. After some delay, she
finally turned the letter over to me to answer. Just at that time, my
mind was wholly preoccupied with preparations for my fast approaching
wedding day; and also, with the adjustment of a number of important
church matters, which demanded my immediate attention. Without taking
time to read the letter, without realizing its importance, or its
urgency; I mechanically placed it in my desk, thinking meanwhile, that
when the time came in which I could pen a reply, I would then confer
with mother for further instructions. Unfortunately, the letter became
misplaced and all memory of its existence, passed out of my mind!
"One month ago, while busily engaged in assorting and rearranging a
confusing mass of papers, I found the lost letter. After reading it
carefully, I became conscience-smitten, as I thought what serious
results might have followed my criminal negligence. I then commenced a
search for this young lady, which has finally lead me to Solaris. I have
traced her here, as a member of your colony. Her name is Honora Eloise
Houghton. Do you know her, Fillmore! Is she here?"
"Make yourself perfectly easy, friend Gaylord! She is here! She is all
right! Miss Houghton does not need your protecting care, or the
protecting care of anyone. She is abundantly able to take good care of
herself and of plenty of other people besides! She can dissipate your
troubles in a jiffy! She can give you something to think of, which will
not fail to hold your close attention. She can soon find a work for you,
in which you will be interested in spite of yourself! In fact George,
Honora Eloise Houghton, is one of the brightest, most independent,
capable, self-poised, self-supporting young women at Solaris! If she
should kindly consent to take you under the brooding care of her
protecting wing, in one month's time you would not know yourself, you
would be transformed into a new man! But, Miss Houghton is a very busy
woman. One of the most useful on the farm! Just at present, she is the
leading director of the nursery and kindergarten school; the principal
female teacher, in the gymnasium; the president of the dancing club; the
secretary and treasurer of the physiology club; and vice-president of
the botany, chemistry and history clubs. After faithfully performing the
duties belonging to these offices, she still finds time to do a great
amount of scientific research and reading; so much, that last year, she
easily carried off the prize, which was awarded to the best qualified,
scientific student among the young ladies at Solaris."
"Stop, Fillmore! You grieve and astonish me! You surely must be jesting,
in dishing up this long rigmarole, about Miss Houghton's
accomplishments! After what I have told you, I cannot conceive how you
can fail to understand, that I am not in a mood for jesting. As for the
girl, I very much desire to meet her, that I may have an opportunity to
express the regrets and apologies for my unfortunate neglect of her
mother's letter, to which she is so justly entitled. This painful duty
once performed, my interest in Miss Houghton will cease."
"I assure you, George, I am not jesting! I am very much in earnest! I
think I understand your case thoroughly. I know that you do not realize
the seriousness of that paralyzing, apathetic condition, into which you
have fallen. I do not think you need condolence, or any form of mild
sympathetic treatment. I am sure you do need very much, to be aroused by
new associations, scenes, friends and acquaintances; strong magnetic
people, with ideas so radical, so startling, that by one quick wrench,
your line of thought may be diverted into some entirely new channel. If
therefore, in my talk to you about Miss Houghton, I have succeeded in
arousing your indignation, in the slightest degree, I shall be
encouraged by knowing that my efforts for your good, have been made in
the right direction."
"Pardon me, Fillmore! I fear I have been hasty! And, that I have
entirely misjudged your motive! I am now in a much better frame of mind,
to listen attentively to what you have to say."
"That sounds much more reasonable, George. I will now return to my
description of Miss Houghton, which was broken off by your interruption.
For the reasons I have just stated, I believe that Miss Houghton, is the
one individual in a thousand, whose acquaintance just at present, would
prove most beneficial for you. Of course you have not seen her, you do
not know her; therefore, you cannot appreciate the peculiar charm of her
magnetic presence, or the force and dignity of her attractive character.
For this reason, a personal description, will fail to give you an
adequate idea of the noble type of womanhood which she represents.
"However, George, after these preliminary remarks, I hasten to assure
you, that as a woman, Honora Eloise Houghton, is a goodly person to
behold. One inch less than six feet in height, straight as an arrow,
broad of shoulder, and round of limb, swift of hand and foot, lithe and
willowy in every motion, her commanding figure possesses the grace and
beauty, of a Venus and a Diana combined. Her large, full, well turned
neck and throat, fittingly supports a symmetrical, well poised head, of
the same noble proportions. A long, thick, luxuriant growth of golden
hair, brilliant with changing hues of a coppery tinge, seemingly so
surcharged with electro-magnetic force, as to form a halo of sunshine
around both face and head, is her chief personal adornment. Her large,
oval face, well formed mouth, strong white teeth, firm chin, finely
arched, strongly defined brows, broad, smooth forehead, and straight
grecian nose; all denote a character of marked type and unusual force.
Full, clear, gray eyes, set well apart, beautifully and mirthfully
expressive, together, with a bright, ruddy complexion, are both
indicative of Miss Houghton's perfect health and strong, vital,
nervous-sanguine temperament. With this temperament and such a
magnificent physique, reinforced by wonderful psychic powers, she is an
ideal healing medium. The very personification of health! Such is the
potency of her magnetic force, that among the people of Solaris, cures
performed by the simple process of laying on of hands, have made her the
marvel of the village; they have won for her the confidence, respect,
admiration and love, of every member of the colony; man, woman or child.
"In conclusion, George, I may say with pride, that Miss Houghton
represents one of the noblest of women, which may be discovered, evolved
or grown by the co-operative farm. As an exponent of what the movement
can do for woman, she is a shining example, of which our people may well
be proud!
"Try to be patient with me, George! I have described this young lady, at
such length, in order that you may meet her without prejudice. We will
now go in search of Miss Houghton, for an interview. After introducing
you, I will return here. When the interview is at an end, I will have my
light, road mobile ready, and we will take a spin around the farm.
Afterwards, if there should be time, we will take a run over to Fenwick,
ten miles away."
"That arrangement will suit me very well, Fillmore! I am now quite
curious to meet Miss Houghton. After my interview with her is concluded,
I shall be delighted to accompany you on a mobile excursion over the
farm. I have in mind a host of questions, which I wish to ask; after my
tour of inspection, I am sure I can frame them more intelligently."
Four days later, we find George Gaylord, again seated in the office with
Fillmore Flagg. They are speaking of things which have transpired,
during the interval named.
"You are looking decidedly better, to-day, George! I congratulate you!
After the fright you gave me, while at the club dance, that evening
after your arrival at Solaris, I thought you were ticketed for a long,
serious illness."
"Really, Fillmore, I have Miss Houghton to thank for being able to again
walk and talk with some degree of steadiness! She is truly, the most
marvelous woman, that I have ever met! There seems to be a healing power
in the very touch of her garments! I feel quite sure, that she has
saved my life. I ought to apologize to the members of the dancing club,
for the very awkward sensation, which must have followed my unfortunate
collapse; that sudden attack of giddiness and loss of consciousness.
Miss Houghton tells me, that the attack lasted over an hour, after I had
been placed on a cot in the hospital. Were you there, Fillmore?"
"What a question, George! Of course I was there! That one hour, seemed
three to me. Knowing something of your critical condition, I was blaming
myself, for having foolishly attempted to crowd so much into your first
day's experience at Solaris. However, Miss Houghton assured me, that I
need not be alarmed over the trance-like condition, into which you had
fallen. She seemed to understand your case from the first, and declared
that she could cure you with a few days' treatment. She further stated
for my benefit, that I was in no wise responsible for the attack of
vertigo, which in your condition, was liable to occur at any time.
"So far as the dancing club people are concerned, no apologies on your
part are needed. They understand the circumstances, and wish me to
assure you, that they will rejoice with you over your speedy recovery.
It seems, George, that your physician prescribes plenty of fresh air and
sunshine for you, during the next few days. Do you think you are strong
enough to-day, for another mobile excursion over the farm?"
"Yes Fillmore, quite strong enough, provided the excursion is not too
long. To-morrow, if the weather should be fine, I hope we may be able to
take that trip to Fenwick, which you spoke of on the afternoon of my
arrival. The more I see of the farm, the more I am interested and
delighted. In a very short time, I believe I might become an enthusiast
on the agricultural question. Hitherto, I have had an unexpressed
antipathy, towards farm work.
"Strongly impressed with the idea, that a farm life must necessarily, be
as dull as ditch water; I find Solaris a revelation, which has opened my
eyes and scattered my foolish prejudices to the four winds. At every
turn, some new surprise awaits me. My typical farmer, with his shock of
untrimmed hair and beard, his stooping shoulders, his shambling,
plow-following gait, his great cow-hide boots, his coarse, soiled,
slouchy, ill-fitting blouse and overalls, his grimy hands, his
ill-at-ease, uncultured manners, and his born-tired expression of
countenance, I cannot find. In his place, much to my astonishment, I do
find a splendid people, in the prime of life, lithe, active and
energetic, in the possession of a superabundance of vitality, which
gives them the graceful air of having grown to a perfect maturity, on
the sunny side of life. What does it mean? Everywhere, I am politely
greeted, by dignified, graceful, self-poised, rosy-cheeked, bright-eyed,
happy, well-dressed, educated, refined and polished men and women. Can
it be possible, that they are farm laborers?"
"Every one, friend Gaylord! It is to rightly organized farm labor,
properly supplemented by appropriate machinery, that these people owe
the superior condition in which you find them."
"You have surely created a new era in farming, Fillmore! Do you think a
general introduction of co-operative farming, will produce equally
successful results elsewhere?"
"Much better and more satisfactory, George! Co-operative farming, even
here at Solaris, has as yet scarcely passed the threshold of the
experimental stage. Every new farm, will profit by the errors and
successes of those previously established. Each one will add to the
strength and working capacity of the mass. This improvement will
steadily increase, until the children born under the new system, become
its principal working factors. When that time arrives, the influence of
the born and bred agriculturalists, will have grown so strong, socially
and politically, that a new impetus will be given to the movement, by
the favorable legislation which they can then command.
"When we consider the future of the co-operative farm, as a working
factor for good, in the affairs of the Republic; we can then appreciate
the great importance of the movement. Stirpiculture, wedded to
agriculture, ushers in a new era for the birth and education of an
epoch-making race of dominant thinkers, so well born, so self-poised, so
harmoniously developed, physically, intellectually, and spiritually,
that without effort, they are naturally chosen by the masses, as social
and political leaders."
"What an enthusiastic dreamer you are, Fillmore! The picture of the
future of the movement, which you have so graphically drawn, seems too
good to be true! My brain is in a whirl trying to follow you! Let us now
prepare for that promised ride."